However, it's still in its early stages of globalisation and we discovered within minutes that it was going to be hard to communicate - the two of us having learnt about 3 words in mandarin. We arrived in the early morning, the mist and grey skies laying low over the town. Both of our phones had died, and we wandered along the streets without a map and only our memory to guide us to our guesthouse. We found the east gate by accident, and headed along what we assumed had to be ‘east street’. Number 49 appeared at a small intersection, and then we discovered that no one was home. In fact, we had hardly seen anyone all morning.

There was only one choice, to divide and conquer. I went in search of an atm / anyone who could help and Daniel waited in the dark, just in case the guesthouse owner decided to show. I think I walked for about an hour. No one spoke English - except a few words here and there, sending me on a criss-crossed trail through the alleyways of town. My best lead was the lady at the post office. She clearly said ‘Go down to the next street and turn right’. It turned out what she should have said was go to the end of the city wall, walk out of the gate and turn left.

My pockets now packed with cash, I headed back to the guesthouse to find Daniel still in the dark, right where I left him. We threw our bags back on and headed up to the heart of town for lunch. We found an inn that was as old as the hills and settled down for fried rice and dumplings. It is also important to mention that this is where Daniel first watched the new Star Wars trailer. He cried. Long story short, the lady who served us lunch called our guesthouse, a friend of the owner came to collect us and the lady proceeded to charge us for the plates and cutlery our lunch came on. It was strange, but apparently totally normal here.

Chen picked us up and guided us back to the 200 year old guesthouse by bike. It was a beautiful place in the traditional Han style. The doors opened into a large reception room, which then opened onto a courtyard. Our room was upstairs, tucked away in a quiet corner. Chen was gone within minutes and we were back on our own again. Actually, we never saw another soul in that place the entire time.

To explore the ancient town, you have to purchase a ticket which costs 150 yuan (about $30). This ticket lasts 3 entire days and gets you through the turnstile barriers knocked up out the front of every ancient dwelling. Within the ancient city walls there are some 4000 of these Ming and Qing era courtyard buildings, traditional dwellings and shops. They are beautiful buildings, grand in form and exquisite in ornament, bearing witness to Pingyao’s economic prosperity.

The first we explored was the Rishengchang Exchange Bank - the ‘father of banking’ in China. This humble abode once controlled the economy of China, with over 30 branches lending, exchanging, borrowing and dealing. About 20 ancient banks or piaohaos — at one time, half in the entire country — were within the walled city. Most no longer exist, but this one shines as an extraordinary example. The bank sits near the intersection of the two streets alive with street stalls, sellers and red lanterns - East street and South street. If you're going to see any foreign faces, it's around here that you will most likely bump into a few. As we wandered around the alleyways marvelling at the vats of beef stock, ancient calligraphy stalls, giant cats, intricate building tiles and shaggy street dogs, the most amazing sunset burned through the fog, lighting the pavement a rich gold. We headed home as the temperatures dropped and my toes turned a cool purple.

As a result of the booming banking business and a flourishing of wealth, the need for security guards developed, with large sums of money and precious treasures travelling across the country. Hence, the birth of the ‘Ancient security guard company.’ These guys had their headquarters just down the road, a complex collection of rooms and buildings, training grounds and common areas. Each member was a Kung fu master, protecting their goods with their life. Daniel shot a few arrows here and spent some time checking out the carts, chests and ancient delivery documents.

There is also two extraordinary temples - one of Confucius and one of the City God. Like all the other buildings, they lay within the grey walled labyrinth, potentially missable if your eyes aren’t peeled. Stone animal heads guided us in to a multi storey structure, burning bright with candles, awash in blue incense smoke. The temple was a state run academy in the old days, a place for scholars and the like to document and ponder the teachings of a master.  

On our last evening, we were hoping for a repeat sunset of the first as we climbed the stairs up onto the city wall. English tourist signs told stories about the walls from the Ming dynasty (1368 to 1644), the 72 watchtowers that kept Pingyao protected. Some areas bear the marks of cannon damage, but on the whole, they have stood the test of time in a remarkable way. The sky started to darken and all the lights of the town started to illuminate as we hurried along as fast as we could. From the elevated position, it was easy to see the vast amount of restoration work in process in the quieter corners of the town. Piles of bricks, sand and equipment outnumbered houses.

Ironically this little city feels threatened by the very thing it developed and nurtured - money. Pingyao escaped the destruction of the cultural revolution because the city seemed too remote and too poor to be trashed by the red guards. Now, its challenge is to escape the fate of other Chinese cities moving through the 21st century - a sort of disney-fication to generate as many yuans as possible from the tourist pocket. The thought of it becoming some sort of fake version of itself is kind of heart breaking, but a fate not even parts of the Great Wall have managed to escape in a world fuelled by paper notes and silver coins.

I can only hope it doesn't become a walled ancient city of souvenir shops and guesthouses.