Eggs in Chinese cooking

Eggs occupy about the same place in Chinese cooking as in Western. They make either the main thing in a dish or go with other main dishes. As in the west, chicken's eggs are the commonest eggs to eat. Next come duck's eggs, then goose's eggs. Great care should be taken with duck eggs. They must always be thoroughly cooked and should never be eaten uncooked nor should they be used for lightly cooked dishes such as poached eggs, scrambled egg, pancakes, etc. Pigeon's eggs, with transparent whites when cooked, are a fine delicacy to the Chinese. With all the media attention on cholesterol, consumers often lose sight of the fact that eggs are a nutrient-rich, affordable contributor to a healthy diet. Not only do eggs contain the highest quality source of protein available but they also contain almost every essential vitamin and mineral humans need. Because eggs are nourishing and easily digested almost in any form, they have always been regarded as good for the young and the frail by the Chinese. Chinese have boiled eggs, fried eggs, etc., but they do not usually mean breakfast nor are they usually made the same way as Western dishes of the same names. Boiled eggs are usually hard-boiled and usually dip-eaten with soy sauce at breakfast. As part of other dishes, they are hard-boiled so long that they become soft inside again. Fried eggs are usually sprinkled with soy sauce. Dropped eggs are dropped in soup instead of on toast, and eaten wet. Chinese have no shirred eggs but have stirred eggs, which is something between scrambled eggs and egg-omelet. Eggs are preserved by salting or lime-treating, for which duck's eggs, rarely eaten in Western countries but are very much appreciated in China, are more commonly used. Lime-preserved eggs are the so-called 100-year-old eggs, which are best when about 100 days old. The lime has a petrifying effect, making the egg look like it has been buried for at least a century. The black outer shell is removed to expose an amber-colored white and dark golden yolk. The egg has a pungent cheese-like flavor. Chicken eggs aremost often used, though duck and goose eggs can be substituted. I personally prefer the tastier duck egg version. Hundred-year eggs can be found in Chinese markets and will keep at room temperature (under 70ºF) for up to two weeks or can be refrigerated up to a month; usually eaten uncooked, for breakfast or as an appetizer. Soy sauce or minced ginger makes a good accompaniment. Also called century egg, thousand-year egg and Ming Dynasty egg. There are some very interesting Chinese omelets. Try them. They make for such variety as you may not have met with before. The Chinese use garnishes a great deal in their food. Besides watercress and the attractive onion flowers, shredded omelet makes excellent garnishes. Here are some common egg recipes for you, Happy cooking!

Chinese Dim Sum Cuisine

The name dim sum, literally means "to dot your heart" may refer to small dishes Chinese eat between meals, for snacks or tea time. These small portions, bite-size Chinese food consists of a variety of steamed, braised, baked and deep fried dishes, are not only pleasant to the eyes but delicious too.
"(In Canton) the Chinese fondness for snacks and small eats reaches a kind of apotheosis." E.N. Anderson, quoted in Ken Hom's 'The Taste of China'

Made from the freshest ingredients, dim sum is often served in the morning as breakfast or brunch in Chinese restaurants (not all of them serve dim sum) where instead of ordering, you choose from a wide assortment of tantalizing delicacies that the waiters bring out on trolleys and trays.  
There are the flavorful steamed shrimp dumplings wrapped in soft and subtle rice flour pastry (Har Gao), deep-fried egg-rolls, steamed buns with roast pork (Char Siu Bao), crispy yam croquette filled with minced pork, shrimps and Chinese mushrooms (Woo Kok), turnip cake (Lor Bak Ko), mango custard tarts and the list goes on and on. Dim sum chefs will constantly come up with new creations and may take you several visits to determine your favorites.
"The discovery of a new dish does more for human happiness than the discovery of a new star." (Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, The Physiology of Taste)

One thing about a meal of dim sum is that you can drink Chinese tea and you are often said to be drinking tea 'YUM CHA' when you have a meal of dim sum. Originated in tea houses in Canton, China, where you can find the best dim sum and Chinese dumplings, this unique Chinese food is now very popular in other Asian countries and in the west.

At 'yum cha', if you notice someone tapping impatiently by their cup when a friend pours them tea, they're not being impolite. It's a way of saying thank you.

 

Interesting symbolizations of Chinese food

China, a country with a long and profound history, is also known to the world for its delicate culinary arts. If you ever have a chance to travel to Beijing or any other parts of China, you’ll be impressed with all the delicious food that China has to offer.
Actually, many Beijing tour operators offer special travel route for those who come to taste the delicious Chinese cuisine, like Beijing ducks, spring rolls and Kung Pao Chicken.
But as we all know that China has a long and brilliant history as well as rich and profound culture. Many foods have special symbolizations.
Take fish for example, because the Chinese word for fish “Yu” sounds like the homophonic words both for wish and abundance. So fish is a indispensable dish in Chinese New Year Eve dinner. Another famous Chinese dish is Spring Roll. It looks like a piece of gold when its done after deep-fried in boiled oil, so people like to have them on the table to symbolize the prosperity of the coming year.
Another great chance to see the comprehensive culture behind food is wedding. We all know there must be something special for special occasions. So chickens are very popular in Chinese wedding banquet. Similar to fish, the reason why chickens are popular is also because of its homophonic to “Ji” which means auspicious.
Of course, there are some other special occasions like birthdays or important anniversaries which will also require special foods.
If you want to know more about this mysterious country, there is no better way than coming to a China tour personally. 

China Food Tour

Dodging Raindrops in Dali

The Weather 
 
Had I wronged the weather in another life ? Perhaps – but those who read the guidebooks will also note that summer is the rainy season in the province of Yunnan （云南）, so it is not unlikely that you’ll find yourself under the same leaden skies that I once did, wondering what you could have possible done to deserve it.

Though it really is impossible to complain. The temperatures hang around the mid-twenties Celsius despite the rain and the ferocious looking clouds add a certain photogenic gravity to the scenery at the same time as obscuring it.

For those on an open itinerary, the option of sitting the rain out in one of Dali’s many café-cum-bars is a pleasant enough pastime, but for those of us on a ruthless schedule, time allows for no such luxury. If getting wet becomes the order of the day, don’t worry, at least you won’t have been the only one! 
 
Dali: Past & Present

 
I arrived in Dali (大理), via Xiaguan (下关, see information at the end) in the rain. Even so, it was possible to make out the 4000m Cangshan (沧山) mountain range in the distance, interspersed with bushy white cloud. The mountains looked ponderous and alluring against the old city gate and shiny streets lending Dali a fairytale appeal upon first impressions.

Dali City was originally surrounded by a 6-kilometre city wall, of which now it is possible to walk along a small section a few hundred meters long. A great deal of the wall still remains, encircling the city. The wall was 8 meters high and 7 meters wide and backed up by a defensive moat.

Four great gates stand in the North, South, East and West of the city and the streets run in a grid like pattern within the walls, making it easy to navigate. Canals run through areas of the city and the tiled buildings with their courtyard gardens feel like they belong in another era. The courtyard gardens are brimming with flowers and plants, all of which added to an old-world magic.

This impression was never quite to leave me, although the reality of Dali is very much 21st Century and does much to lessen its own appeal. Beneath the curling, traditional roofs, souvenir shops do brisk business, tour groups are led around the city by guides dressed as members of the Dai minority and the rest of us chop up the city into photographs, aiming to capture that elusive sense of the ancient amidst the modern.

Vestiges of Dali’s substantial history remain visually in the form of the city’s wall, gates and some buildings, but as these have been renovated to cater to the tourist industry, it’s difficult to credit them as authentic. Dali is a reminder that it is not easy to maintain historical integrity against the onslaught of modernisation.

Nevertheless, it is a mistake to write the city off as charmless, as any early morning walk will reward you with pre-tour-group peace and a chance to exchange a smile and 1RMB for some freshly baked steamed bread. Likewise, take a twilit stroll beneath the silhouette of the castellated walls and you might imagine you’ve heard the ghosts of the battle cries of the Mongol hordes, seven centuries ago, razing Dali to the ground. 
 
The 3 Pagodas

 
Two kilometres north-west of Dali, and visible from the city are the famous 3 Pagodas (三塔寺). Hiring a bike is a great way to get there, or if you’re feeling less energetic, why not hail one of the many horses and carriages plying the route.

The 3 pagodas date from around 900AD and were originally part of a Buddhist monastery. Nothing of the monastery now remains and the towers themselves were renovated in the late 1970s and a new bell tower was added to the complex in 1997. From the top of the 3-storied bell tower there are magnificent views out over Erhai Lake and the mountains beyond.

The main pagoda is square and stands at almost 70 meters in height, at its base are four Chinese characters “永镇山川” that stand for “Everlasting Sovereignty and Peace”. Legend has it that the copper bird wings on the four corners of the top tier of the pagoda, cast a spell over demons in Erhai Lake that prevents them from surfacing. Two smaller octagonal shaped pagodas flank their square partner standing at 43 meters tall. It was not possible to climb any of the pagodas when I visited!

The grounds in which the pagodas stand are a pleasant stroll through topiary and vast dark green pines and ranks of new evergreens have been planted leading up to a temple and museum. The museum is a good place to escape from the rain for a while, housing a large collection of cultural relics from the area. A small, and easily missed lake provides a famous view of the 3 pagodas reflected in its mirrored surface. 
 
Erhai Lake

 
Erhai (Ear Sea) Lake (洱海湖) is very close to Dali and well worth taking the time out to explore. The lake covers almost 250km and is one of the largest fresh water lakes in China. There are many villages around its perimeter as well as parks, temples and pavilions.

Boats and ferries crisscross Erhai and it’s possible to go to and from almost any destination, it’s also possible to take your bicycles with you if you wish – the locals all do it! There are also islands on the lake, housing temples, which can be visited although you must usually pay a small entrance fee to explore the island itself.

There really is nowhere to escape from the rain here though, except to take a ride on one of the covered ferries, which is what I found myself doing. I cycled along a portion of the lake, until fed up with the wet-dry-wet-dry nature of the day’s showers-then-sunny weather, I decided to take a trip on a boat. Perhaps because of the mid-summer rain, I was able to negotiate a 50% discount off the ticket price and gratefully sank onto the warm, dry ferry.

The cruise I took was around 3 hours in total, with a good 2 hours cruising on the lake and stops at Putuo and Jinsuo Islands. It rained the entire time. It was pointless to explore the islands in the downpour that seemed to have settled in for the whole day. The magnificent scenery to be found here, mountains and meadows, remained hidden beneath a smudge of grey that stubbornly refused to move and the renowned placid surface of the lake writhed under a bombardment of raindrops. I counted myself, not for the last time here in Dali, unlucky. 
 
The Cangshan Mountains

 
For those mesmerised by mountains, a trip to Dali wouldn’t be complete without an excursion into the Cangshan range that edges this city. If you find your way into one of the small tourist information centres dotted around the city, you can pick up tickets and a bus that will take you up into the mountains for day’s exploring. It is possible to spend much longer on hiking trails around the area, but if you only have a day to spare, this is great option for making the most of the mountains.

Zhonghe Temple (中和寺) is located on Mt Zhonghe, part of the Cangshan range, and can be reached either on foot or by taking a cable car. I decided to take the cable car, as the weather had not improved and the rain continued to hammer down. The cable car makes a steady ascent of the mountain that takes around 20 minutes to reach the top, skirting over a diverse range of tree, bamboos and other greenery and offering superb views of Erhai Lake on a clear day.

This day, I was treated to the mists and cloud of the Cangshan range, and little else. At the top, steep and winding stairs traverse the pine-treed slopes and lead off to temples, waterfalls and forested walks. The rain effectively rendered this a useless activity as the steps were slippery, the views non-existent and without my umbrella I would have been saturated.

As it was, I explored the nearby giant, stone Chinese chess set and watched the cable-cars disappearing into the mists above it. Each piece came up to my knees and was around a meter in diameter. I also made my way to a waterfall, that defied the rain to remain majestic as a white tumbling torrent falling down into a blue pool of crystal clarity. The waterfall was surrounded by rocky cliffs that were painted with vibrant green mosses and gravity defying ferns.

My final stop found me taking a steep stone staircase up into the fingers of the pine trees. I found, quite by chance, a tiny teahouse with a stone floor and wooden beams. I ordered a pot of green tea and took shelter here, all alone, from the worst of the rain. A Chinese couple sat quietly reading in a corner.

A well-known English idiom goes “every cloud has a silver lining”. Sipping my tea and listening to the rain thumping on the wooden roof, I conceded the simple truth of this: that the peace and tranquillity of the teahouse, and Dali itself, were well worth the price of getting wet.

Songpan: Pony Trekking and Emma's Cafe

Beyond Horse Trekking 
 
Lying at the foot of the Minshan Mountains, in the northern reaches of Sichuan, is the quaint and well-preserved historic town of Songpan. Seen mostly as a stop over on the route between Chengdu and Jiuzhaigou, or as a base for horse trekking, Songpan has more to offer the traveler than initially meets the eye. Between Songpan’s tumultuous history, mix of ethnic minorities and its wide range of outdoor activities, even the most seasoned travelers should be entertained for a few days – if not more.

Although Songpan has a long and rich history among the Chinese, it has only recently become a popular stop for western travelers, largely because of its proximity to Jiuzhaigou National Park and to the southern entrance of Gansu province. One activity that has slowly become a necessity for backpackers seeking a full-fledged Sichuan experience are the pony-trekking/camping tours offered out of the downtown area.

The most popular pony-trekking tours last from one to fours days (longer if you’re feeling really brave) and have been given great reviews. Most trips should include a guide who speaks a minimal amount of English, a cook and basic camping equipment. Depending on the time of year you plan to go, you’ll want to bring warm clothes and possibly a sleeping bag; comfortable and sturdy hiking shoes are a must.

If you have your heart set on a multi-day expedition then take it from me and plan your trip wisely. Thinking it was only the beginning of October, and with the weather still being quite pleasant in Chengdu, my husband and I set off for Songpan with little more than a light jacket and a pair of jeans. For some reason we hadn’t even thought to check the weather report before we left home! When we arrived, however, we became all too aware that Songpan had skipped autumn and was feeling the effects of full-fledged winter already! Not only was it freezing cold, but it was also pouring rain and we were supposed to depart on a camping trip the next day?! That idea was scratched immediately as we realized we would be miserable to whole time: camping is no fun when you’re soggy and cold. Luckily Songpan is a charming town and has enough to offer for a few days’ time, but as you can imagine we were pretty disappointed about having to miss its main attraction simply due to our lack of planning.
 
 
A Strategic Marriage Yields New Beginnings

Songpan’s history reaches clear back to the Tang Dynasty when the Han and Tibetan nations were engaged in a ferocious battle. Peace finally found its place between these two great nations, but to cement the union princess Wencheng was married to the Tibetan king. It was at this time, over twenty-three centuries ago, that the first township was established in the Songpan area, with the new king and queen presiding over this strategic location.

It wasn’t until the Ming Dynasty, however, that Songpan expanded into its current boundaries and underwent a major facelift. Emperor Jiajing, of the Ming Dynasty, saw to the major task of erecting a wall, which to this day, encircles the heart of the town. With the Minjiang River flowing past its front gates, Songpan’s ancient wall is the largest of its kind in China.

In building the wall, Emperor Jiajing entrusted a general to oversee this massive project. Each brick weighed a hefty thirty kilograms, and had been mixed with water in which glutinous rice (sticky rice) had been cooked. The construction lasted five years and resulted in a strategically placed wall, atop which were placed weapons of defense needed to guard the city.
 
 
Fortune Backfires on the Town

During the Republican period, from 1912 to 1949, gold was discovered in the hills around Songpan. To cash in on the fortune to be had, the Zhangla Goldmine was constructed by the Kuomintang. Rumor has it that just as the KMT was finally fleeing the area, they overloaded their plane with so much gold that it crashed into the mountainside, at which point all the gold was scattered back to the earth. Prospectors are still known to try their luck in the nearby hills.

Tragedy struck the town yet again during the anti-Japanese war (1937-1945) when Japanese bombers missed their target of the gold mine and struck the town instead. Today there’s nothing in the town’s appearance that conveys this tragic past; the town itself is in good condition and is set to undergo more restorations in the near future as well.
 
 
Ethnic Groups

While Songpan lies within the Tibetan and Qiang Autonomous Prefecture, there is a visible Hui population in the community as well. Not only will Songpan appeal to the history buff in you, but if you’re interested in ethnic minorities then it’s a destination you will surely not want to miss. A major trading junction for the Tibetan, Qiang and Hui ethnic groups of Sichuan, Gansu and Qinghai; Songpan abounds in colorful ethnic garb. Be sure to leave extra space in your luggage because you’re not likely to leave this stop empty handed. (My husband can vouch for this first hand, as I dragged him around the markets for two days due to the poor weather! It’s truly a shopper’s paradise if ethnic minority artwork and clothing is your forte.)

One of the first things you’ll realize when you enter the town is that, contrary to what many people think, it is not only Tibetans who are populous in Songpan. Aside from the eminent Han presence, the Qiang minority dominates the local population as well. These men and women are unmistakable in appearance with their simple black gowns of silk, cotton and gunny cloth, which are paired with sleeveless sheep’s wool jackets. The women adorn silver jewelry and lace collars with beautiful silver ornaments. Their shoes are decorated with the embroidered designs for which they are renowned.

Historically, “Qiang” was the name given by the Han to the nomadic people inhabiting the western region of China. It wasn’t until the Han Dynasty (206 BC to AD 200) that an administrative region was created in the area. However, the Qiang weren’t formally recognized as a distinct group until the Tibetans reigned in the region, from AD 600 through AD 900. At this time a number of Qiang were assimilated into the Tibetan and Han societies, while a segment stayed nomadic and distinctively separate from their neighbors. The descendants of these early nomads comprise what is today known as the Qiang ethnic minority. They have no written language of their own, and due to their close historical contact with the Han, many of them speak Mandarin along with their tradition language of Qiang.

Like the Tibetans, the Qiang have been valued as great horsemen for generations. For centuries they have bartered and done business with the Hans by producing medicinal herbs, horses and other natural products for farming tools and other daily necessities. Their range of medicinal herbs and natural products encompasses a huge variety of ingredients, most of which are quite visible (delighting some tourists and horrifying others!) in the windows of their shops. It’s not unusual to see caterpillar fungus, various antlers and bears’ gallbladders on display. Also seen are various hides, for which I’m not sure what purpose they serve, but they are prominent nonetheless. While the westerner in me cringes every time I see one of these animal products, it’s important to remember that these medicinal products have been passed down through the generations for centuries, and any harm done isn’t done so with malice but through ignorance.
 
 
Not to be Missed

 
While Songpan isn’t overflowing with activities or sites to see, it does hold enough interest for a few days’ time and has been known to captivate travelers for longer then they had anticipated. Simply strolling through the old town should keep you entertained or a few days, but there are a couple of ‘must sees’ that I feel should be on the top of anyone’s list while in town.

The first one is horse trekking. Sadly, as I already said, I wasn’t able to make it into the grasslands for this experience. From talking to fellow travelers, though, I have gathered
that the most popular options are the two to three day excursions, which take you through the Muni Valley. At the entrance of the valley lays the Chaggar Monastery, which is said to be the sole active place of worship for the Gelukpa sect of Tibetan Buddhism in the Songpan region.

Other interesting itineraries that are offered are the longer excursions to Huanglong National Park and Xuebaoding Mountain. Both of these options would be best suited for late spring, summer or early autumn weather, as it does get very chilly at this high altitude! (Come prepared with warm thermals or else you’ll wind up like me: scouring the shops like a mad woman in hopes of finding a pair that are long enough to cover your calves! Not an easy task indeed!)

Lastly, no review on Songpan should be without a much deserved recommendation to Emma’s Café. Emma’s is situated about a block up from the main statue (the north entrance of the gate.) Along with a cozy atmosphere, internet connection, a CD burning service, and a menu encompassing a wide range of Chinese and western food, Emma’s staff is extremely helpful when it comes to hostel recommendations, tour information and any other questions you might have. Another perk is their book exchange: any two books can be traded for one of theirs. Emma’s should be able to assist you in making our connecting journey to Gansu, Jiuzhaigou, Huanglong or Chengdu, all while you sit back sipping your much deserved green tea or coffee after a long three day’s horse trek through some of China’s most amazing scenery. Enjoy!
 
 
Travel Infomation

Getting There
•From Chengdu: There are three buses a day, from the Northwestern bus station (Chadianzi.) Eight Hours

•From Jiuzhaigou there are three buses a day. two to three hours

•From Huanglong yo will need to hire a taxi. One and a half to two hours, depending on the weather conditons. (About 220 yuan, subject to bargaining skills.) =)

Hotels and Hostels: There are a number of budget guesthouses, ranging from adequate to quite nice. One thing most are lacking is thick blankets. If you’re carrying a sleeping bag it will come in handy here. There are simply too many guesthouses to list, so your best option is to show up and ask 'Emma' what she recommends. A fair price for a budget room should run Y50 per person, anything more and the owner is pushing it. Our first night was spent in a room with an outside bathroom and a shower that was not only across the street but was in someone else's home! We soon realized that we’d been 'had' (we’d paid Y100 for the two of us), quickly got our money back and switched rooms. We were able to get much better accommodation up the road at half the price. So, the moral of my story is this: be wise and do your home work. Shop around a bit before you settle on a room because they do vary considerably.

Standing at the Edge of the World

'mind boggling' 
 
I wait only twenty minutes for the next bus – just enough time to use the bathroom and read the station signage. One large sign graphically explains the eight ‘forbidden something’ – mind explosion, mind poisoning, mind chemical and mind erosion – which leaves me mind boggled but very amused. The bus fills quickly and leaves on time. I am both happy and relieved as I only have the afternoon to spend on this excursion and it will take another hour to get there. I’ve not really left myself enough time to explore but I am wary of being caught out without a bed for the night in this remote region.

The road has followed the coast for the most part, behind low coastal dunes and small headlands, across sandy river estuaries and semi-arid farmlands. It has taken the best part of the morning just to get to Weihai, on the beautiful north coast of the Shandong Peninsular. The city of Weihai is relatively small and stretches for kilometers along a shallow sweeping bay. Both the long distance bus and train stations are on the far eastern edge of the city – strange considering there are very few destinations to the east of Weihai – but this is not my ultimate destination today. 
 
Lands end

 
Small open fishing boats – just little black dots – pull in a days catch miles offshore. Later the road meanders further inland over rolling hills and farmlands. We take a sharp turn off the main road toward some rocky crags in the near distance. The bus makes a couple of stops in what appears to be a theme park in the lee of these rocky hills. Just one of a multitude of such ventures often built at the wrong time in the wrong location with the wrong expectations – now a bit of a ‘white elephant’. Back on the road we are just a few kilometers from our destination - to the right views of small villages, boats, beaches and the water, and to the left more of those rugged granite outcrops rising in stark contrast to the surrounding green fields.

Passing through one last village the bus stops and parks in the shade of a massive traditional gate announcing our arrival at Chengshantou – literally the end of the road for the Middle Kingdom and one of those especially interesting little places off the beaten track. I’m told the last bus back to Weihai will leave at 4.00 pm which doesn’t leave me long. I buy the rather over priced entrance ticket and quickly walk the last few hundred meters to the very edge of the Middle Kingdom. On my right is the deep blue Yellow Sea lapping gently on the rocks below. 
 
Rustic charm of thatched roofs

 
Overhead a brilliant blue sky is streaked with high thin clouds – a perfect picture. I make the obligatory photo stops like the other tourist who have ventured this far, taking a quick look at the lighthouse, read up on the ‘big fog flute’ used to warn seamen of the imminent dangers of the cape before the lighthouse was built. Then I hurry back past the bus, letting the driver know that he is to look for me in the village. With barely an hour I head out to explore the small fishing village nestled in the lee of Chengshantou.

Corn grows tall beside the protective stonewalls of the houses – in neat rows – narrow alleys in both front and back. Each courtyard home faces south; the windowless stonewalls shielding them from the harsh winter winds that blow in from the north. A small covered archway over the front gate gives the only access to the small courtyard gardens. Rambling creepers with colourful flowers, sunflowers chasing the sun and a couple of large shade trees compliment the simple texture of the stone and thatch. 
 
A warm welcome

 
More than half the homes in this section of the village are around sixty years old and still have thatched roofs which make most of the villages in the region unique. I wander down alleys that have recently been dug up to install more modern plumbing and drainage, peeking into courtyards with open gates. Taking care not to be intrusive I am looking for an opportunity to have a closer look.

A small friendly dog barks as I approach its gate and this offers me a chance to say hello not only to the noisy pouch but to the retired couple who come out to see what the fuss is about. We exchange greetings and when I ask if I can have a look their response is immediate and warm. They take me into the living room, the largest room in the main section of the house along the northern wall with a bedroom at either end. 
 
A retiring life

 
Recent renovations have created a clean, bright and tidy home with lots of windows to catch the winter sun. To the left of the courtyard was the main kitchen, attached to the living room in the main hall. Almost entirely clad in glass on the roof and internal walls this kitchen is only used for preparation of meals. The cooking was done is a smaller detached kitchen in the courtyard to the right of the entrance. This would reduce the risk of fire in these homes of stone, timber and thatch.

After showing me around the couple invite me to sit in the cool of the courtyard where we chat about our homes and families. The little watchdog sleeps in a straw stuffed tyre just inside the front gate. An old rusty bicycle is amongst an assortment of retired odds and ends about the house. A much newer modern bicycle also stands by the gate. During our chat I understand the couple have both retired but I’m not able to find out what they had done for a living – fishing perhaps!!!!
 
 
A reminder of my father

 
I made my farewells, wishing I could stay longer chatting with this lovely couple but my time is pressing on. Just down the alley I come across another group of villagers both men and women. An older man is mending a net. After greeting them all I am invited to sit once again in the shade and we chat some more. This time about where I am from, how I have traveled to China and how long did my flight take me. Eventually everyone leaves except the old man mending his net. I tell him how he reminds me of my own father who was also a seaman and a fisherman. Like this man he would also spend hours sitting in the shade of a tree on the riverbank near our home mending his fishing nets.

All too soon it is time to leave. I take a few more photos around this quaint and unique village wondering how much longer these thatched roofs would remain. Across the street and up the gentle slope, white tiled, two story homes built in the same style as the original traditional homes overlook their older cousins and the sea but they lack all the rustic charm of the old village. 
 
A special seat

 
I buy an ice block from one of many small stores while I wait for the bus avoiding for the umpteenth time the question of my age which is often asked good naturedly by curious men and women both. I never cease to be amazed at how accurate the men are at guessing something close. I jokingly take offense occasionally if they are wildly off the mark.

The bus arrives on time and I am offered the jockey seat right up front opposite the driver, climbing over the engine housing, which also doubles as a seat on most rural buses. It is only now that I notice that we are heading directly into the already low, setting sun and it will be right in my eyes all the way. I spare a thought for the driver who does this last run regularly. Before long the bus is not just full but packed to bursting and I am glad to have a seat. We make one more stop in the rather dreary small town about five or six kilometers from the cape where another large group of people are waiting, expecting to ride the bus.
 
 
The trek back

 
This town is full of small KTV bars and I assume just as many small guesthouses. Signs in and around the cape are also in Korean, which suggests that many visit here for business and or pleasure. After some jostling and re-arranging of luggage and passengers we leave for Weihai. I must be the only passenger who actually has one whole seat to myself and some space around me. We leave no-one behind and a few bags and small freight items are jammed against the windscreen and around my feet.

Once we leave this town the bus does not stop again leaving a lot of disappointed people stranded by the roadside. This must happen regularly so I am hugely grateful that I am on the bus and that I have a seat. I’m even grateful that I am squinting into the hot , soon setting sun, and not the alternative - a close crush of hot perspiring bodies. Our driver is more cautious, taking corners slowly until we stop at a large intersection where many of our passengers off-load finding alternative transport.

I have no idea if our overloaded condition is the reason that we returned along the coast road but it was far more interesting for me. All along the coast, the small fishing boats I had seen earlier were returning to shore. Because the bay is shallow, tidal changes in water level mean that the tide goes out a long way. To compensate for this an ingenious rig of two poles, one onshore and the other off shore in deeper water have been constructed at regular intervals. A wire rope is strung between the poles and the boats are hosted out of the water and pulled ashore where they are stored safely above the high water line each evening and just as importantly during inclement weather. 
 
The happy ending

 
With still plenty of daylight left when I arrived back in Weihai I had time to seek out a cheap room for the night. I did not have to look far as I was approached again by a very nice but persistent woman who showed me several options across the street from the station until I was both satisfied with the room and the price. She disappeared just as quickly as she had appeared.

That evening I sat outdoors with the locals eating Weihai style barbeque washed down with a locally brewed light beer. One of my waitresses – once she got over the fact that I was speaking Mandarin – related a story that one of her teachers had told her university class. Quote ‘Australia has no flies because it is such a clean country.’

I tried hard not to laugh too much – she had obviously never been to Australia where of course we have flies. There are some places where you just have to stay in your car because the flies are so thick, slow and ‘sticky’. In fact we have a joke that swiping at flies is our ‘National Salute’.

With the sun long gone beneath the horizon, I reflected on my wonderful but brief visit to the edge of the Middle Kingdom. It had been a great day – both interesting and amusing to the very end. 

Horse-trekking on Jade Dragon Snow Mountain

Getting there

It was early in the morning on my first on my first full day in Lijiang that I ran across a good-looking Naxi native woman, named He Xiao Wan. She couldn't speak any english, but my rudimentary Chinese sparked an interest in her eyes. She handed me a business card with a picture of a late-model car, telephone numbers and Chinese characters. She told me she was in the tour business and has access to a car to take me wherever. Honestly, I wasn't planning to go anywhere that day, but I asked her where I could buy a cup of coffee in old town Lijiang. She escourted me a a food vending booth and asked if I was hungry. Snce i was, I bought some coffee and a bowl of soup noodles. As I ate I practiced talking with her in chinese and her how nice looking that I thought she was. I also mentioned that I wanted to visit YuFeng Si (Jade Peak temple) to see the Wanduo Shancha (Camellia Tree of 10,000 Blossoms). No sooner had I done this Miss He was on her mobile phone calling to arrange a ride for me.

We walked through old town Lijiang, stock-filled with vending booths selling unique Chinese art, as the sun was just clearing the nearby mountain peaks for, what promised to be, a sunny, warm day. At the bottom of the hill there sat a old white van with a smiling Naxi man sitting in the driver's seat. Miss He introduced me to her brother as I climbed into van and tossed my daypack into the rear seat.
YuFeng Monastery

The van was an older rig, for the upscaled Lijiang viewscape. But it seemed sturdy enough to sit back and enjoy the ride out of Lijiang. Along the way, there were demolished buildings, parks with colorfully-dressed naxi women dancing and, of course, the serrated peaks of Yulong Xueshan looming n the distance. The Naxi siblings kept on talking to me in PuTongHua, like I was a local.

Unfortunately, I could only understand about one-tenth of what they were saying. But, they did keep pointing out horses and asking if I liked the QiMa (ride horses). Being a country folk from Idaho, of course I've spent many days out on the range in the saddle, I told them (wo cong xiangxia lai, dang ran keyi qimu!) of course, I liked riding horses!

The van pulled into a crowded parking lot below the gates to the monastery. I was surprised since it was early in the morning that there were so many tourists. But, hey, this is Lijiang and the vendors had their tables set up for another bustling day of business. The entrance fee to this monastery was 20 RMB and as I walked in the first thing that I noticed is that I was the only westerner in sight. Fragrant smells from potted shrubs (a type of gardenia) filled the air between the wafts of incense people burned as they entered. The incense sticks that they tried to sell me were HUGE! These things would burn for hours and were thicker than wedding cigars! I passed on buying the incense.

The monastery had many large, older trees throughout the grounds. One sign claimed that a large magnolia tree was more than 300 years old. There were many flowering plum, cherry and apple trees also planted there.

Yufeng monastery was built during the last years of the Qing dynasty regime of Kangxi. The main courtyardconsists of a hallway, a main hall as well as two other smaller courtyards. This kind of layout epitomised the typical architectural layout of a traditional Chinese courtyard. The main hallway faces the direction of the east and the entire roof is decorated. This is a classic example of the Qing dynasty's style of architecture layout of a traditional Chinese courtyard. On the rooftop of the monastery, there are wall paintings of the Buddha of "MiZong" Lama religion. In addition, pictures of the Buddha can be found in the main hall and on every pillar of the building. But the main attraction of this monastery is the Camellia tree of 10,000 Blossoms. while the number of blossoms may be a bit exaggerated, I was visiting this monastery during blooming season and eagerly anticipated viewing this sight.

After walking up a series of stairwells, Miss He and I entered into a sunny, opened courtyard where there stood the famous bush. Countless peoplewere there taking pictures of their family in front of this Camellia. So many people, that I decided that perhaps just a single bloom might make a better picture. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of flower blooms on this trellised, old plant, I walked behind the bush and took my photo of a single bloom with the blue sky and bright sunlight behind.
Unexpected surprise

The courtyards of WuFeng Monastery were very attractive and fragrant. Afterhaving viewed the camellia of 10,000 blooms, Miss He and i went back to the van. The driver spoke some unintelligeble Chinese and the next thing I knew we were headed up YuLong Xueshan, instead of back into town. I was enjoying the ride and we passed many panamoric sights along the way. When the van stopped, I could tell that we were at a truly Chinese tourist destination. When we walked into the main building, there were pictures of horses, the mountain and horses on the mountain. This could mean only one thing.....this place offered guided horse-treeking trips up Jade Dragon Snow Mountain! I listened intently as the tour planner pointed at various routes available on a map drawing on the wall. I could understand here when she mentioned fees for the different lengths of treks, but didn't understand much else. Since I was on a paid vacation, I decided that I wanted to spend the whole day horseback riding, so I purchased the 300 RMB package.

Miss He, however, wasn't going to go with me on the ride. Since I had checked out of a guesthouse in old town, I had a 30-pound daypack that I didn't want to carry up the mountain with me. So, I had to make a fast decision. Should I trust 2 Naxi people to keep my daypack (with passport, money and other valuables) in their van,or should I take it with me on the trek? I told them that I trusted them as I would my friends and opted to leave my valuables in the van.
Then I walked back tothe stables and the Naxi already had a horse and a guide picked out for me to ride. The horse looked somewhat frail and small, but it was equipped with a comfortable saddle, bridle and stirrups. The guide, a 56-year old Naxi man also named He, looked at me enthusiastically with encouragement. At this point, I didn't know what to expect,was he going to ride along with me, or was he going to walk all the way up the mountain with the horse harness in hand?
Up the mountain

Traveling independently in a foreign-speaking country has risks, as well as rewards waiting for every traveler. I didn't plan go on a horse-trek when i arrived in Lijiang. But as Lao Tzu would say, " A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving", I decided to "throw caution to the wind" this day and just do it. I wound up having 2 other Chinese riders, with their guides, join us for the trek.
Aswe wound up the mountain, the valley of Lijiang became more and more distant.

Flowering shrubs, piles of rocks and the dirt trail were all around. As we climbed, more and more pine trees were visible, then further on, fir and spruce trees. My horse seemed to clamour along lazily at the outset, but when we got to s teeper, rougher terrain, this horse showed tremendous agility and endurance. It would even gallop if the guide gave it the right signal. My guide, it turned out was partially deaf. He would communicate with the horse in grunting and wailing sounds, and the horse semmed to understand this.

After about 2 hours of climbing, we came upon an old wooden building sitting in a clearing. Inside of this building, there were cooks sitting around a barbeque and a pantry. Although unlit, the smells from the barbeque started to make me hungry as a woman offered me a cup of green tea. It turned out there were about 6 riders and 8 or 9 guides for the lunch this day. We were served BBQ beef, corn-on-the-cob, potatoes and tea. A simple banquet, but I was pleasantly surprised with their rustic hosting. Also, thank goodness, plenty of hot, clean water.

Mid-day was upon us, as we mounted the horses and continued to ascend. Remnants of snow and ice became visible as the trail became much steeper. There were parts of the trail so steep that we had to dismount and walk up the mountain with our guides. Although I couldn't identify many plants in this terrain, I did not several sprouting rhododendrons and wild peach bushes, blooming in brilliant pink. After a steep climb, we entered into a rocky meadow. Here my guide handed me the reigns to the hoses, shouted something in Naxi. or mountain guide talk, and this frail, little horse was off to the races! It galloped furiously through the meadow and I had to hold onto the reigns tightly. When I pulled back on the reigns, it just continued to run. I was a little frightened. Finally, after tugging hard on the ropes, the horse came to a halt. I was impressed that this horse could run so swiftly after such a climb!

After another ascent, we entered into a smaller meadow that had a smaller wooden building on the flanks. Although the trail continue beyond the building, I knew that this was as high up as we were going. The trail beyond the meadow was simply too steep to ride any further. If a person wanted to climb to the summit, I am sure that this was the direction to go. All around us were jagged precipes of rocks. The air temperature was much cooler and the wind much stiffer. The horse were allowed to rest while the riders took pictures and scampered up the mountain. I rested beside a rock and talked with some Naxi guides the best that I could. It seemed that they wanted to trade me some clothing for my black pearl bracelet. I told them that the bracelet was a special gift and I wouldn't part with it. They looked at it with amazement. Maybe they had never seen authentic black pearls, shimmering with blue and green colors, ever before. After resting, the temperatures seemed to drop and I was ready for the descent.
Arriving back at the van

The descent back down Jade Dragon Snow Mountain was very eventful. My horse, it appeared, was eager to get back to his personal stable. He descended much faster than the other horses. Along the way, another guide in front of us twisted his ankle and had to sit down for awhile. Further down the mountain, he reappeared, limping briskly, to again handle the reigns. I felt sorry for him because he was obviously in a lot of pain. I told him that he could ride my horse back and that I would walk. But he refused. This reinforced my feelings that these Naxi mountain guides are tough people. My guide, Mr. He, smoked cigarettes and was 56 years old. I wondered how long that he has been leading trips up the mountain....

I tried calling Miss He, to let her know that we would be back down the mountain sooner than I expected. But, her mobile phone was turned off. I started to wonder if maybe I wouldn't see them again. I had left my passport, several thousand RMB and other personal valuables in the van with her and her brother. This was a true test on the honesty and integrity of the Naxi people. Should I have done this? No! Would I have done this back in my home country, the U.S.A.? No.

So, I was a little concerned by my own lack of planning at this stage. My guide and I broke off from the other riders near the bottom. Mr. He wanted to show me his home. When we arrive there, it was an older Naxi brick and mud stucture. Mr. He lived in a one-room sleeping house. He unsaddled the horse, gave it fresh straw and water and showed me around his dwelling. It had good, clean running water, but very few appliances. It was modest, at best, and I could easily tell that my guide was a simple peasant. But I also know that he is an excellent horseman andguide. Next, we walked back to the parking lot and the white van, with Miss He was parked there. I said hello and then glanced in the rear seat for my pack. Hallelujah!! It was there! So, I thought, a fitting end to another day of adventure and unexpected surprises in China! That's when I had the driver take the final photograph.

Lijiang is a very commercial city, hosting thousands of visitors a day. While money seems to be the standard of value everywhere these days, it was good to have met and gotten to know some of the Naxi folks of Lijiang. I believe that they are good, upright people and they proved it to me on this day. Miss He and i never got back together during my remaining 4 days in Lijiang.

Huanglong: The Hidden Jewel of Sichuan

A Holy Site

Laying almost directly in between the popular tourist destinations of Jiuzhaigou and Songpan, Huanglong National Park is a site that is often over looked by tourists. However, one will be hard pressed to find a natural site that matches Huanglong’s unique beauty. Here, the tourist blurbs aren’t lying when they proclaim Jiuzhaigou and Huanglong the world’s ‘Fairylands on Earth.’

Like Jiuzhaigou, Huanglong is the site of a rich history for the Tibetan and Qiang ethnic groups. With its otherworldly topography, Huanglong has served as an important religious site for the Tibetan people for centuries. Also calling the park home are the endangered giant panda and the golden snub-nosed monkey, although it’d be highly unlikely to spot one of these creatures in the wild.

Because of the valley’s relative isolated location and its importance in Tibetan religion, it has been spared the development and heavy tourism that have reached Jiuzhaigou. However, as the word spread about Huanglong’s natural beauty and the flux of tourism began to increase, in 1983 the park dedicated a World Heritage Site by the United Nations.
A Natural Wonder

Like it’s famous neighbor, Huanglong was formed by millions of years of glacial activity. It’s main valley snakes it’s way through the earth, creating the vision that has been likened to the tail of a dragon. The shimmering scales composing this natural wonder are in fact calcium carbonate and limestone deposits, which feed into a number of hot springs and waterfalls. However, if you arrive with your swimsuit you’ll be greatly disappointed: there’s nowhere to go for a soak. (Which probably is a good thing, as one can only imagine what a zoo that would make of the place!)

Aside from the park’s legendary multicolored pools, Huanglong can also boast a number of awesome waterfalls that should not be missed (Liantai waterfall is a must see.) Also en route are a number of Tibetan temples (you’re likely to share the trail with pilgrims), and, of course, the amazing Yuchuifen Shan (Yuchuifen Mountain.) All of the pools are concentrated along the main route, which peaks at 5,500 meters (and yes, the oxygen does get noticeably thinner up there!) There are too many pools to list, and each is unique in color and depth, ranging from an aqua blue to green, white and a number of shades of yellow. If you hike the trail both ways, or one-way at the least, there’s no way to miss any of the major pools; they’re all along the main path.
To Go Or Not To Go...

One of the only drawbacks of going to Huanglong is also one of its virtues: it’s relative inaccessibility. Now tell this to a Chinese tourist and they’re likely to disagree with you – vehemently. There is definitely not a shortage of Chinese tourists at the park. On the other hand, for a westerner it’s a bit of an ordeal to get there, but even more of an ordeal to leave.

Coming from Jiuzhaigou it was pretty straightforward to get to the park. A daily bus departs the main bus station at 7 am each morning. Leaving from Songpan is not so easy though, as I’ve heard from fellow travelers. There are no buses that go from Songpan to Huanglong, so it’s necessary to hire a taxi for the trip (about two hours one way.) If you’re able to share a taxi this isn’t such a bad option though.

The journey from Jiuzhaigou to Huanglong takes about two and a half to three hours, depending on the weather, and passes through beautiful scenery along the way. One of the first things you’re likely to notice when you arrive in the Huanglong ‘town’ is that there is a serious shortage of accommodation. In our case, we’d planned to arrive that morning, check out the town for the remainder of the day, then wake up the following morning to explore the park. We soon came to realize this plan was only feasible if one has about 600 Yuan to spend on a hotel room – at the least! There are only a few choices of hotels in the vicinity and these cater to the predominantly upper class tour group category. However the rooms did look very nice if you’re in the mood for a splurge! I’ve also heard reports of some basic lodging within the park (which would be a great experience), but I didn’t see any cabins myself.

If one wishes to visit the park in a day and thus bypass the expensive lodging in Huanglong town, then it seems the way to go (and this is what we did) is to get an early start, see the whole park in half a day (which isn’t hard to do) and then share a taxi to Songpan. The park itself isn’t difficult to traverse in a few hours since there is only one path to hike either way. If you happen to get a late start there is also a cable car that can take you half way up the mountain, although walking at least one direction is recommended if you really want to experience the beauty of the valley. If you’re feeling a little weary about the elevation gain, don’t despair: once you reach about half way up the mountain there are oxygen stations galore! (This also becomes quite a source of entertainment, as some hikers are a wee bit overly dramatic to say the least!)

Once you’ve seen the park and are ready to hit the road to Songpan (western food and cheap accommodation awaits!), the next step is to arrange for a decently priced taxi to make the journey. If your situation is anything like ours was, you’ll be exiting the park in the early evening, exhausted from a day of buses and hiking and will be ready to check into your hotel room. (Luckily, though, you’ll have been spared the nightmare of lugging your backpack around the park all day, as there is an awesome visitors’ center at the park’s entrance that will hold your luggage for free!)

In leaving Huanglong, the ideal situation would be to arrange for a shared taxi with other Songpan bound tourists. If this isn’t possible though, you’ll have to cover the fare on your own, and with it being a two hour ride you’re not likely to pay anything less then 230 Yuan. Believe me, we don’t have sucker written on our faces, and we bargained like madmen before we finally succumbed to paying the fee, but the truth is 1) no one is very eager to drive that far at the end of the day, and 2) all of the drivers know you have no other choice but to take one of their taxis to Songpan (or be stranded); thus bargaining isn’t much of an option.

Another thing to watch out for is the old ‘switch-a-roo’ that the cabbies might try to pull on you. We came to realize that most, or all, of the cabbies live outside of the park's entrance/exit live in the general vicinity of Huanglong and don’t want to drive as far as Songpan. Especially that late in the evening it simply doesn’t make economical sense for them to be driving all the way there. Therefore, they’ll negotiate a fare with you, drive you to the top of the hill (in heavy fog this can be an intense ride to say the least!), pull over to the side of the road and hand you off to a fellow driver who will then take you the final leg of the journey. If you’re tired and mildly depressed about the money you’re about to fork over for the ride, then this seemingly scamy maneuver might be enough to put you over the edge. After enduring a white knuckled ride through the fog, on the wrong side of the road, we thought we thought we were about to be deserted in the middle of nowhere or ridiculously bribed just to finish the rest of the trip, but alas the divers had it all worked out, so it was best just to relax and enjoy the ride.
The Journey is Half the Fun

While not entirely ‘off the beaten path’, Huanglong does take more effort to reach than the average tourist destination, especially if you’re a foreign tourist with limited Chinese capabilities! However, if you decide to visit the park you will not be disappointed. Having visited a number of mountains and natural sites in China, I would honestly have to say this is my favorite site yet. While it wouldn’t be fair to compare it to its ever-popular neighbor and visually unsurpassed neighbor, Huanglong holds it’s own in the contest of pristine natural beauty and simplicity. While attracting it’s fair share of visitors (we were almost pushed off the planks and into the pools on a number of occasions by the massive crowds!), it is able to remain a sort of hidden gem in this heavily touristed region of Northern Sichuan.

On a side note, another reason to visit Huanglong is it’s wonderful museum and visitors’ center (where you can stash your bags!) The designers of the museum have done a great job putting together a variety of informative and attractive displays on the histories of the various ethnic groups that inhabit the park. It’s a must see for anyone interested in the Qiang and Tibetan minorities.

 

Private 2 day tour in Beijing

We just came back from a trip to Beijing from 4/1/07 to 4/8/07. We booked a 2-day private tour thru ineedhotel.com This tour did not follow the confirmed itinerary they emailed me.

1. They took us to Juyongguan at the Great Wall instead of the famous Badaling because Juyongguan is closer to Beijing. Because I traveled with two small children, it was hard for me to climb the steps to the top to see the view. Be aware, the steps at Juyongguan are very steep and high. But if you don't climb to the top, you won't be able to see the main view. I suggest going to Badaling because there is a toboggan sled available that will take you to see the spectacular view up high and bring you back to the exit.

2. On each day, they took us to two places for shopping. Those places are sponsored by the government and they give huge commission to the travel agency/ tour guide. The prices at these places are triple than the prices at other local stores. The tour required that we stay at least 40 minutes at each stopping spot, otherwise they will be fined. This is really a waste of time. We did not make any purchase on the first day, and the tourguide seemed to be upset. When I bought a small bag (75g) of tea (140rmb) at a tea house on the second day, the tourguide had a big smile when he walked us out to the parking lot. Until now, I still don't know if this mandatory shopping schedule is made by the tour guide, or the tour company.

3. The tour guide's English may not be as fluent as you would expect. Strong accents, difficult to understand. Our tour guide constantly bragged on his English studies and his hard work, giving us reminders to give him a big tip. (After awhile, this became annoying!)

4. The Peking Roast Duck dinner included in the tour was at a small local restaurant, not the famous Quan Ju De Restaurant. All of the other meals provided in this tour consisted of basic chinese food at small restaurants..

This is my personal experience that I would like to share with you if you are planning to arrange a private tour in China. Make sure you choose a good travel website, check their reviews and reconfirm your itinerary when you first meet with your tourguide. Good Luck!

More Than A Bridge Over Water

The sun is rising like a rare ruby over the rooftops as a lone riverboat whispers around the corner of the canal. The water, tonguing the scarlet light of daybreak, swallows the boatman and his barge into a silent silhouette. The bleached bone-colored walls of the buildings blink into shadow before becoming highlighted by the glittering paladin growing in the sky.

There’s another couple standing on the bridge next to us, and down the lane the tender tinkling of wares as they’re set out on water-side tables, ready for breakfast-seekers. Other than that, it’s us, the sunrise, and the piquant beauty of a town that travelers, not tourists, know about.
A Living Fossil

In northeast Zhejiang Province, between the fabled jewels of the Yangtze--Hangzhou and Suzhou--lies a slender footprint of anthropological marvel: the town of Wuzhen. Bisected by China’s most ancient waterways, Wuzhen has been subsisting in the ebb and flow of this country’s turbulent history for more than 1,300 years.

In May 1999 the government pledged to invest 200 million RMB over five years for the maintenance and improvement of Wuzhen, considered one of China’s most delicate cultural fossils. A genuine deposit of life spouting forth from the lacework waterways of the Yangtze delta, Wuzhen is a town that has been preserved—not restored or dolled up for a role in a farcical play. It’s not so much a living museum as a time-capsule town of fish, rice, and silk where the Water Market weekly floats by and sells fruits, vegetables, meats, and goods from their trade boats into the villagers’ windows.
Knowing What to Look For

And though you may be trailed by ticket-checking security guards and can easily find the public toilets, the traditional lifestyle of Wuzhen is not just “put on”—it carries on in its time-worn way, the trace of an organism that stumbles along in its natural pattern in much the same way as the water that has slipped through the canalways for just as long.

Wuzhen’s fame reached our ears by accident, stumbled upon only via the documentations of travelers who had been there and done that. It’s not a place you can find on the internet unless you know what to look for, and I haven’t found report of it in any of the current printed guidebooks on China. However, if you do know what to look for, there is more than enough information on the web to get you geared up and pumped up to get there—which isn’t terribly convenient as its not a stop-over on the major Shanghai, Suzhou, Hangzhou tourist-triangle. Wuzhen even has its own gorgeous and amazingly user-friendly website which can be found at www.wuzhen.com.cn/oldweb/wuzhen.eng.
Not Knowing What to Expect

We got to Wuzhen from Suzhou via JiaXing. That is, from the main bus station in Suzhou we bought tickets to Jia Xing and didn’t listen to anyone when they told us there’s nothing worthwhile in JiaXing. An hour later, in the tiny bus depot, we bought tickets for Wuzhen, and then bumped through the countryside for another hour until we pulled up to the side of the road and were told to get off.

At first glance, Wuzhen doesn’t look like what you expect it to look like. That’s because twenty percent of the original town limits, and what’s grown up outside it, is the same as many of China’s small towns today: dull, lifeless apartment blocks and wide streets, as squared-off and box-like as the designers probably were who erected the buildings. But a five minute walk down each of the ‘modern’ section of the towns’ two thoroughfares and a bridge crossing later and suddenly you’ve dropped into another century. It’s almost depressing to look down and see that your clothes don’t match the delicately orchestrated opus of stone, wood, and tiles that knuckle up along the canals and covered passageways of Wuzhen.
Slow Opening

The 2-kilometer-long layout of the city is divided into 6 districts along an East-West-East circuit. The districts are dissected by waterways and demarcated by function: the Traditional Workshops District, the Traditional Culture District, the Traditional Food and Beverage district, the Traditional Shops and Stores District, the Traditional Local-Styled Dwelling Houses District, and the Water Township Customs and Life District. The majority of the buildings that have been preserved were constructed in the Ming and Qing dynasty.

Strolling through the narrow streets in the early light of morning, as people were just waking up (and brushing their teeth out of their windows), it felt as if doorways didn’t exist—just boarded up building fronts—which lent an echoing feel of abandonment to a period lost to time and modern living. But one by one slats of walls would be removed and put aside, and people’s doorways and shopfronts were revealed piecemeal, their smiles opening just as slowly but equally broad. It was beautiful.
Traditional Workshops District

And once the shops and doorways had all opened we could easily find which district we were in. The Traditional Workshops District was shop after shop of coppersmiths and woodcarvers, carpenters, shoe-makers, tobacconists, looms set to weaving and, across the street, the cloth-dyeing workshop. The area is famous for its indigo-dyed calico, which is fashioned into batiked goods like shoes, dresses, shirts, coats, trousers, headscarves, wall-hangings, bedspreads—practically anything you might be after. The finished textiles are then sold in the Traditional Shops and Stores District, along with many other goods that the town of Wuzhen has been fashioning for centuries.
Mouthful of Joy

In the Traditional Food and Beverage District you can find Wuzhen’s local dishes and snack foods (小吃) as well as tea houses to beat all tea houses. Late morning, as we strolled through the area taking note of food local to Wuzhen, I spotted some bright-green mounds resting in a bamboo basket beckoning to me through plumes of steam. I approached the little shop and asked what the little green balls were. Up close they were even more stunning, the most pure emerald-green color I’d seen. I couldn’t believe it was edible or that it would be delicious. I was expecting it to be a very local kind of dumpling made from very strange ingredients.

But I was wrong. They were pumpkin steamed glutinous rice dumplings with filling inside. Pumpkin is one of my favorite foods, especially the way the Chinese cook pumpkin, and I was overjoyed and asked for one. “Which filling would you like?” She asked me. I returned with “What fillings do you have?” and she rattled off a short list. But one filling stood out and I forgot the others “黑芝麻” (hei1zhi1ma0): black sesame. A pumpkin dumpling with black sesame filling? I thought I had died and gone to heaven. Two of my most favorite foods rolled into one delectable little steamed ball of deliciousness. I had never been so happy as I was strolling along those streets in the morning light with my pumpkin-black-sesame-dumpling in hand.
Time for Tea

Tea shops are also a specialty of the Traditional Food and Beverage District, and one Tea Shop in particular stands out in its fame. The Fanglu Pavilion Teahouse, south of the Ying Bridge, is said to be the best in Wuzhen. Legend has it that the owner and founder Lu Tong, as he was just beginning his business, ran into a spot of trouble with some poisonous tea leaves. Luckily Lu Yu, the infamous Tea Aficionado and author of the Cha Ching, the Tea Bible, was passing through Wuzhen. Lu Yu saw Lu Tong’s distress and taught him how to pick, make and serve tea so that it had the best flavor. Lu Tong’s Fanglu Pavilion Teahouse has been serving delicious tea in incomparable surroundings since.
Scholarly Endeavors

Another of Wuzhen’s claims to fame is its impressive list of scholars. In the twentieth century the contemporary writer Mao Dun, who wrote The Lin’s Shop, hailed from Wuzhen. In 1984, 20 years after his death, his childhood home was renovated and can be visited today. But what’s of more interest is the Mao Dun Museum, which used to be the famous Li Zhi Academy of Classical Learning. From the Song (960-1279) to the Qing (1644-1911) Dynasties Wuzhen produced more successful candidates in the highest Imperial Examinations than any other town south of the Yangtze. All the candidates attended this prestigious Academy to prepare for sitting the Exam.
Passing Time

As noon neared we sought out a place for a rest and a snack. Following the locals’ example we gathered around the town square. We sat on a bench along a covered promenade, looking over the square with the theatre-playhouse on one end and the Daoist temple on the other. As I peeled a Chinese Grapefruit as big and golden as the sun above us, I couldn’t help but think that the locals across from me, similarly perched along benches on the opposite promenade, looked like a flock of preening and roosting cranes: isolated in small groups, left to their private conversations, heads turning, observing—watching the world go by as the river below them coursed on.
Impressed

It’s no wonder that to know Wuzhen is to know its history and its industry. You can’t just see Wuzhen as a tourist would; you have to experience it and absorb it with a traveler’s mind. And if you’re lucky enough to catch the traditional Flower Drum Operas or Shadow Puppet Shows held in the community theatre you’ll see that the artistry of Wuzhen isn’t for amateurs. The internal aesthetic embedded into this charming town has honed masters of its many simple yet beautiful trades over the centuries, whether it’s breeding silkworms or raising chrysanthemums; constructing buildings or building bridges; maneuvering boats or putting on operas; writing fiction or studying the Classics; weaving fabric or carving wood. A day spent in Wuzhen is likely to be fossilized in your memory for time immemorial.
Information

Wuzhen is located in Northeastern Zhejiang Province, 17 kilometers north of TongXiang

Getting There by bus:
Suzhou to JiaXing 26RMB
JiaXing to Wuzhen 8RMB

There are several buses from the Wuzhen bus station to both Suzhou, Hangzhou, and other towns in the area.

In town it's best to walk, but they have convenient and cheap pedicabs as well

There are several hotels in the area, and you should negotiate a price. Ask a pedicab driver to take you to a cheap one and a few options should materialize

Tickets for the Ancient Town districts of Wuzhen are 100RMB--but worth it. Similar to Pingyao, the all-inclusive ticket will get you into every little mini museum and 'area' that would otherwise be restricted if you were just strolling the streets.

Some hoteliers will offer a room price with ticket price included, but this is not recommended as they won't actually give you a ticket and you won't be able to visit any of the places of interest. Negotiate the room separately and buy the ticket on your own.

 

Taishan: From Top To Bottom

I had stood on many summits before coming to China, and they were all, without exception, empty. There were trees, or rocks, or snow, or other people, or cairns and even the odd hungry goat, but nothing else.

Summits in China are not the same.

I’m used to this now and so it is no surprise to reach the summit of Taishan and find it laid out like a small town. With paved streets, shops, temples, restaurants and hotels. A part of me is always disarmed by this branch of civilisation that exists at the top of most mountains in China, but I can’t deny that it makes exploring a lot more interesting and provides welcome shelter and sustenance for the weary climber.

This winter’s evening, the summit is deserted. I walk over to the edge and can see nothing but a wall of cloud and fog as though someone is holding a sheet of grey paper before my eyes. I am disheartened at this “viewlessness”: one of the great pleasures of reaching the top of any mountain is being able to look down and survey the world at your feet. There is no chance of this for me.

The night is swooping down quickly to squeeze me against the summit and the cold is biting; I can see my breath and my camera’s zoom lens doesn’t want to work. Great swathes of white cloud keep dancing across the paths, hiding the summit from view and wrapping me up in misty arms, before releasing me again. A welcome hotel light shines out from the gloom and one of the staff calls to me: I accept their offer of a room for the night and step inside.
The Hotel: 南天门宾馆

The patron tells me that at this time of year there are few hotels open on the summit – there are few visitors. I can understand his Chinese and I accept a room for the night. He takes me to the room, it is a twin room, it is very big and freezing cold. I ask him if I can have a smaller room, but he tells me the smaller rooms have no heating. OK. I ask him about the heating and he tells me that it will be switched on automatically at 8pm and not before. I settle for the big room at 80RMB and some hot water, but the flask in my room is empty.

Outside the temperatures plummet to a low of -15°C. This doesn’t worry me, I have lived in the North East of China where it gets much colder than this – the difference, I will soon discover, is that they have heating!

I decide to eat dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. It is expensive, but then it is one of the only places serving food and it is at the top of a mountain. Food must be transported up, I concede, but still the price seems extravagantly high. I don’t think they are ripping me off, I can read the menu. Even the simplest of dishes: potato strips with green peppers, is 30RMB. I order the cheapest meat dish, a vegetable dish and a beer (SUPER expensive) and the bill is almost 100RMB. However, I am warm.... well, still wearing my winter coat and I have hot food, so I can’t really complain.

When it gets to 8.15pm and the heating is still not working, I phone the reception. They tell me if I want the heating on I must pay them an extra 40RMB – I am a little annoyed, asking them why they didn’t tell me this at the beginning (they don’t reply) and I decline on principal.

The room is freezing, the bed is freezing, the sheets are freezing, the floor is freezing, even in all my clothes and coat – I am freezing. I call them again, not 15 minutes later, and agree to pay them in exchange for some heat.

Even with the heating, which comes swiftly enough after I have agreed to pay for it, I remain cold for the entire night, sleeping and waking by turns into a room where I can still see my breath.

When I leave at 6.45am I pay my bill at the reception. It is a young guy who looks at my bill and asks me to pay 80RMB, this is the price of the room. I think about it for a moment – he hasn’t asked me for the extra money for the heating – I decide not to tell him.
The Sunrise

The morning is not looking promising. It is still dark and it has snowed overnight, the snow has been blown into drifts and hugs the steps and doorways with white hands. It is the fluffy stuff with the consistency of polystyrene – no hope of making snowballs.

Alone, I make my way to the “Sunrise Watching Peak” (日观峰). The cloud maintains its grip on the sky and it begins to snow with half-hearted flakes. It is so cold, even with my two pairs of socks and my thermals I can feel an iciness creeping into my feet. I stand watching for the sun amidst the silence of this wall of cloud.

A famous guide book says that 60,000 people were on the summit to watch the Labour Day sunrise in 2001.

I am alone, on January 26th 2007, when, like a pale coin released from the palm of the sky, the sun gleams for a few seconds.
Morning At The Summit

From this point onwards, the morning doesn’t stop. The sun appears increasingly and the cloud thins. Snow covers everything in a fine mesh. The trees are frosted and the cracks in every rock are filled with white lines of ice. The colour of the sky starts to shift, from grey to pale pink and finally – like a breath of fresh air – the blue arrives.

The impossibly bright patches of sky are dazzling against the lifting mists and the mountain is becoming visible. Pine trees step one by one into view, the pale blues and greens of the rocks and pine needles come out from hiding and the curves and valleys of Taishan reveal themselves.

The transformation is incredible.
A Circuit Of The Summit

I might be on a different mountain. The summit is huge, with room for a TV & weather station that sits in ugly prominence and a number of temples and towers scattered on the peaks above the “village”. The village is what I consider the circuit of streets, steps, shops and restaurants that huddle on the flatter part of the summit.

I stop at the bell tower and the monks, happy to see a foreigner, invite me to ring the bell for free. I accept and the sound looms over the mountain, 3 times. There are other temples: a simple one for Confucius and the more elaborate Azure Clouds Temple. Perched at the highest point of the summit is the impressive Jade Emperor Temple (玉皇顶) and at its front stands the famous “Wordless Monument”, a stele bearing no inscription that instead invites every climber’s imagination to describe the view.

I stumble by chance across the Immortal Bridge (仙人桥). Here, 3 large boulders have collapsed onto each other over a large ravine; they hang in the air creating a “bridge”, hence the name.

Exploring the summit is like being in a new world, it is fresh and clean and quiet and the cold is never-ending. After 2 hours, this early morning winter wonderland, beautiful as it is, leaves me aching and I drop into a small cafe to slurp a big bowl of steaming hot noodles and try to shake off the chill.
Going Down

It is time for me to leave, having explored the summit, and I decide on taking the West Route down to give me an alternative view of the mountain. I still must first negotiate the Path of Eighteen Bends, but the snow has been cleared from the steps by the fastidious sweepers and I make a swift and easy descent.

The blue sky has lifted my spirits enormously and Taishan has become the swan (not the ugly duckling of yesterday), all snow-dusted and glistening. With every step down I feel warmer, my feet and fingers thawing and I meet a few climbers now, the first of the days new arrivals. They look weary but I feel as light as a fairy, springing down the steps and admiring the mountain as I go.

Hawkers are abroad this morning selling small packets of Buddhas whose faces are fixed in a variety of grimaces. The price starts at 8RMB and I am not interested, but the hawkers get slim pickings these wintry days and when he drops the price to 2RMB I am as happy to buy them from him as he is to sell them.
The Western Route Down

The Western Route down begins at the Middle Gate (中天门) and descends in a mixture of pathways and road. Most visitors to Taishan will take the bus, but in winter there are only one or two buses a day and I decide to walk. Even with my map, I have big trouble locating the footpath and descend for the most part along the winding road. This turns out to be 15km long.

I have the road to myself for the majority of the journey and I do indeed see a different face to Taishan. This side of the mountain is steep and rocky and covered in deciduous trees that form a tangled blanket of leafless branches – it must be lushly green in the summer!

There are cows wandering the road and great rocky precipices that are obviously waterfalls in the summer, and must be very impressive. Now they are smooth slides and terraces of pale stone amidst the pines.

I pass Zhulin Temple (竹林寺), surrounded by bamboos, but it is closed.

Further down, I stop at a tiny hut that is perched on the side of the road. A cat, two dogs and a chicken are idling outside and an old woman smiles curiously at me. I buy a bottle of water and a packet of biscuits from her and sit down on a stool. The cat, who must be starving, comes and mews incessantly at my feet. I throw her a biscuit and she gobbles it up, I throw her another one– it is the only way to shut her up. I have a new best friend.
Back At The Bottom

It is perhaps 5 hours later and the town of Tai’an appears over the brick dam of a frozen reservoir and I know that I will soon leave Taishan. As usual, the city with its high rises and cranes, feels like an intrusion into the stillness of the mountain. There is a small village here and the road is busy with contrasts: 4-wheel drives swish by along with other locals carrying big plastic bottles full of water.

Looking back at Taishan for the last time I see this mountain as a great bulk of rock dressed in green rags. The sky is pale blue with whispers of white cloud. I imagine for a moment the story of creation where my trip to Taishan really started; and from the chaos of that cloudy box emerges a newborn mountain against a pristine sky.

I am a small traveller in this world, with neither fame, nor fortune, nor political destiny. I will leave no inscriptions to inspire generations, but I have told my tale here, these are my words for the “Wordless Monument” and so I leave my words, my name, my footprints, with all the others who have gone before.
Information (January 2007)

Taishan (泰山) is located in Shandong (山东) Province in the East of China. Tai’an (泰安) is the town at the foot of the mountain and the best place to base yourself to explore. The temperatures at the top of the mountain are VERY cold (-15°C even though at the bottom of the mountain it may be quite warm. Warm clothing, thermals, gloves, hats and scarves are essentials during the winter.

Smooth Sailing in the Wake of Defeat

I’m standing in the stern of the ferry looking back across our wake. The water is clear and blue, the sky is too and on shore the white high-rise buildings stand in sharp contrast against the sky. In just a few short minutes our ferry is disgorging another load of day-trippers at the islands visitor center. The lure for me was an island surrounded by crystal clear waters, steeped in centuries of history and it is just off the coast of Weihai. Since I am passing through on my way to ‘Land’s End’ at Chengshantou it seems prudent to take a look. Liugong Dao is something I’d been longing for but never thought I’d see so I am unprepared. But the thought of yet another day without a swim is soon swept away by the surrounding beauty of the island.

I’d spent the night in Weihai on my way back from Chengshantou, that picturesque village at the edge of the world. When I got off the bus the afternoon before I’d managed to find a nice cheap room near the bus station for the night. All I had heard about Weihai has been positive and it is living up to my expectations. I am up early the next morning – partly because I haven’t slept well on account of marauding mosquitoes throughout the night - but I want to make the most of another beautiful day and I’m unsure of what I will find.

Historically, Weihai has played a significant role in the defense of Beijing including China’s demoralizing defeat by the Japanese Navy in 1894. Liugong Dao together with Dalian and the port of Lushun were home to China’s Northern Naval Fleet that at the time of the confrontation numbered around forty vessels many of them bought or borrowed from Britain and Germany. Ding Ruchang, the Naval Commander at the time was a man of action, having proven himself throughout his career: he made his way through the ranks to his final and fateful position. In 1880 he was sent to Britain to deliver two new battleships, the ‘Chaoyang’ and the ‘Yangwei’. The first modern ships in the Chinese fleet as they began to recognize the wisdom of equipping their navy with the same caliber of craft that the had allowed countries like Britain, Germany and America to gain control and maintain their foothold in the Treaty Ports along the China coast.

In 1890 with the assistance of the British, Ding Ruchang set up a Naval Training School for Chinese Officers on Liugong Dao. Despite this training by the British, the Japanese were able to outwit and out maneuver the Chinese Fleet with many of her ships floundering as they fled westward before the ominous advance of the Rising Sun. Ding Ruchang, overcome with shame at the destruction of his fleet by the smaller Japanese flotilla took his own life in 1895. The British eventually took control of the island three years later, and during more than thirty years that the British controlled the island they built a Naval Academy, a hospital, a school, churches, residences and the island became a popular summer resort for the British Navy and today is another well-preserved example of foreign influence on the Peninsular.

The evening before I had been assured that I could easily get to the docks from my hotel. The bus stop was just across the intersection. I am in luck - there is a bus waiting at the stop when I arrive but it is soon evident that it is not going anywhere despite being packed. It has just had a minor altercation with a taxi – both drivers were on the street loudly voicing their opinions and gesturing wildly with their hands - the female taxi driver had pulled out in front of the bus. I wait, watch and listen for a few more minutes as the crowd of waiting passengers grows. The next bus, when it arrives would be crowded too so I hail down a taxi and head for the port where I eat breakfast before taking the ferry out to Liugong Dao.

Escaping the crowds is easy. Turning to the left after exiting the arrivals building I follow the old docks past the two story brick barracks and some modern gray patrol boats to the southerly tip of the island which faces the mainland just a few kilometers way. Dotted around the island are the remains of cannons and underground bunkers with a tunnel network. From here I follow the narrow flagged streets up the gentle slope exploring the beautifully preserved officers quarters, classrooms, and officers residences. On a small headland overlooking the passage between the island and the mainland I stumbled across another cannon placement. What a stunning view through wind swept, stunted conifers, back to the mainland, along the rugged coastline and westward towards the distant capital of the Middle Kingdom.

Just above the settlement is landscaped parkland with a small memorial to the Revolution. Much of the island is a nature reserve covered in forest from the islands peak down to the rugged western shore and a cable car carries visitors up for a 360 view. I spend several hours wandering the quiet cobbled streets, inspecting the neat but Spartan Naval Academy, the temple and small galleries and museums. Liugong Dao is a hikers paradise with just a few small roads and goat tracks across the island. As the sun rises higher in the sky I slip down to the beach beneath the concrete bow of the Jiawu Naval Museum, a tribute to the 1894/95 Sino-Japanese battle. Ding Ruchang, immortalized in stone, telescope in hand, eyes scanning the horizon stands wind swept and watching from the deck of his memorial.

Liugong’s history is a turbulent one, swinging from rural revolutions and prosperous trade through epidemic disease. Legend also has it that a merchant ship, floundering during a fierce storm, her crew fearful for their lives is drawn to the island by a mysterious light. When close enough the men leap ashore in shallow water collapsing exhausted at the feet of an old man holding the torch that had guided them in. He then helps each man, shouldering them one by one on his back into his house where his wife reputedly feeds this ravenous crew from a pot of rice that never empties. When the men rise the following morning they find the couple mysteriously gone and the local residents explain that these celestial beings often give assistance to sailors. Ironically, today there are no residents with this legendary family name.

I take my shoes off to wade in the cool refreshing water. The beach is small, narrow and none to clean but the water glistens like gold in the sunlight as each little wave tumbles in. Surprised by the sparkling in the water I take a closer look and discover gold flakes - fools gold, I suspect - tumbling in the gentle waves. I wander slowly at the waters edge, looking for shells and coral and flotsam from the sea. The beach is awash with bits of lime green kelp looking more like discarded plastic shopping bags until closer inspection reveals the truth. My thoughts return to swimming but I have no bathers and nowhere discrete to change. I’m not the only person combing the beach that afternoon looking for who knows what. While I find nothing of real interest I do collect some small bright red clamshells to add to my collection of nautical mementos from places I have been - pebbles and shells or corals from around the world.

Off shore, small fishing boats lie quietly at anchor. The passing of larger deep sea fishing vessels and outer island ferries is announced by the sudden slapping on the sand of many small waves produced by their wakes making landfall. An upturned dinghy - her timber planks shrinking and her green paint peeling - lies rotting in the sun above the high water line. Another larger battle-scarred rusting hulk sits propped upright also rotting in the long grass above the beach, what’s left of her crisp white coat suggesting a more glorious past. In the background the bow of the museum thrusts proudly seaward - hard gray lines in concrete. I look back on this trio of silent stranded hulls – one of concrete, one of steel and one of timber – a fitting tribute to the sea faring history of this island.

The beach ends in a small headland. Rather than return along the beach I clamber up to the road following it further out around the coast but there is little to see. Unseen dogs bark at my approach before I turn walking back through the small village behind the museum. Flanking me on the right is the central forested peak of the island. The tree-lined street is cool but I stop to buy an icecream from one of the small poorly stocked local stores. I choose to skip the Jiawu Museum as I’ve gleaned enough information from the much smaller, free exhibition halls in the temple complex on the slope above the arrivals hall. I buy what turns out to be a very cheap string of black cultured pearls which last only a month before the silver wears off and the clap collapses. I dawdle past the elegant new hotel, the first on the island, browse through the souvenir shops and enjoy an ice-cold bottle of water and a snack while I rest in the breezeway of the buildings that house the cable car station.

Back on the mainland, I have a couple of hours to kill. While I find little of exceptional interest I am sure there are things to discover given more time. Today the city is booming – a manufacturing base for a cute little three-wheeled car, tyres, clothing and accessories, seafood and other food products and clocks, an industry that began more than a century ago. Another Shandong specialty is beer and Weihai is no exception being home to a joint venture with Korea’s Asahi brand and home to her own brew, Weihaiwei that proudly bears the city’s historic name. Weihai, fully recovered from her inglorious past is embracing her future with the same gusto and confidence that Ding Ruchang expressed during his days of glory.

Travelling the Yangtze

Of all the factors that have worked together to fashion China into a huge land of mystery and intrigue, the tremendous influence of the Yangtze River upon the people and their culture is beyond dispute. Holding distinction as one of the nation’s two “Mother Rivers”, the Yangtze bisects the country to provide an important geographical and cultural boundary between northern and southern peoples. The third longest waterway in the world, it slices through an area inhabited by about a third of the country’s population while making its dramatic 6,000 kilometer journey eastward. Those who choose to take a trip on this vital transportation network are carried through some of the most economically important areas in China. With high expectations of a remarkable expedition through the heartland of China, I set out to plan my Yangtze River cruise on the “Golden Waterway”.

Looking into possible Yangtze River cruises I quickly found that there are many options to choose from related to price, trip length and the type of ship one travels on. Beautiful cruise ships equipped with the latest luxuries and entertainment ply the river particularly during the peak season from April to October. Since I was traveling in the off-season when the water level is a little too low for large cruise ships as well as wanting to experience the river journey through the eyes of the people, I chose to book my fare on a regular Chinese passenger ship heading upriver from Yichang to Chongqing. This particular section of waterway is known as the most scenic as it passes through the legendary Three Gorges of incredible breathtaking natural beauty. Traveling upriver takes slightly longer as the ship must steam against the current, but it is also cheaper than most downriver cruises. Depending on the comfort and privacy level one desires during the trip, there are a variety of ticket classifications available. I purchased a second class ticket which provided me with a small cabin on the port side containing four comfortable bunk beds and a shared bathroom.
Underway on the ship

The adventure actually began upon my arrival by train in the busy city of Yichang which serves as an important transportation hub at the point where the middle and upper reaches of the Yangtze River divide. Yichang lies about 1,600 kilometers inland from the Yangtze’s final meeting with the East China Sea and is a major center of navigation for river steamers. Walking down to the riverfront it is quite easy to purchase tickets from any of the travel booths for the four day upriver journey to Chongching or any intermediary stop in between. The recommended embarkation time is about four hours before departure, so once my ticket was purchased I used my remaining moments to visit a local market and stock up on fruit and snacks for the trip. The ship itself looked like a typical Chinese riverboat on the exterior and had recently been refurbished on the inside. A shallow draft vessel designed for river cruising, it contained three public decks with narrow, steep stairwells connecting them. There were open rails along the port and starboard sides on each deck allowing passengers to appreciate the sights along the way, and a rear deck with a few benches.

With the ship sounding a series of short horn blasts, we got underway from the moorings as friends and family members lined the shore to wave goodbye. Almost as soon as Yichang fell out of sight into the misty background the ship was already making its approach to GeZhou Dam, the first dam and water conservation project on the Yangtze undertaken by the Chinese government. Beyond this dam the famous Three Gorges Area extends 193 kilometers along the waterway with craggy, sheer mountain peaks rising up to 1,000 meters above the river. By the time we were safely through GeZhou Dam most of the passengers had settled into their berths for the slow journey upriver and I had familiarized myself with the ships layout and stretched out to relax with a good book. I was surprised to find that throughout the trip I would be sharing the cabin not only with three other passengers, but with their friends and family members as well. In view of the Chinese tendency toward hospitality where “personal space” is not a consideration, my cabin mates were naturally quite willing to share our limited space rather than allow their friends to sleep on the common deck. At one point I actually counted nine people piled into our small room, contentedly tripled up in the bunks and chatting happily. One benefit of the close quarters and amiable attitude of the people was that they were very willing to share what they had, so I was allowed to taste all kinds of special homemade goodies which they had packed and brought along for snacking.

As the ship journeyed westward the first gorge we passed through was Xiling Gorge and begins upon entering Nanjin Pass. Xiling Gorge is 66 kilometers long and during certain times of the year orange-colored orchards can be viewed along its banks. Steaming upriver through the treacherous rapids, whirlpools, rocks and shoals clearly evident by the turbulent water, I was reminded that years ago this stretch of river was particularly dangerous for ships and used to require the assistance of “river trackers”. This able-bodied group of men would literally pull boats through the rapids and shoal water by their own brute strength to keep ships from running aground. Today the helmsmen have to remain alert and steer carefully, but most of the dangers have largely been eliminated with a wider and deeper channel where travel is much less treacherous. The engines humming steadily against the swift current, our first view of the massive Three Gorges Dam was the next major sight to come into view. Stretching more than two kilometers across and towering 185 meters high, the dam is an overwhelming sight looking at it from aboard ship.

Since the Three Gorges Dam Project has been so controversial and attracted an amazing amount of world-wide publicity, I was anxious to see the site for myself to judge the impact that the dramatic changes have had upon the river. The dam is an incredible feat of engineering with its enormous powerhouse and spillway where the water cascades through to produce an impressive misty spray. There is also a second powerhouse and cofferdam which is visible from the scenic lookout point above the dam. The dam supplies hydraulic power to major Chinese cities like Shanghai and Suzhou and provides additional power for the rapidly developing country in its ever-growing demand for energy. As China’s largest engineering project the dam is also designed to help control seasonal flooding which has threatened communities downriver for centuries. The dam itself creates a reservoir that extends all the way upstream almost to the city of Chongqing and required the relocation of entire towns and historic sights. The change to the width and depth of the waterway has greatly increased commercial shipping access by allowing large freighters to enter China’s interior and all ships traversing the river travel through a series of five locks so they can be raised/lowered to the appropriate water level. As my ship passed through this multiple-hour locking process I watched in fascination at the procedure as we gradually moved up step by step. Not only were the decks of the ship full of curious onlookers, but the observation areas on the dam were also crowded with people onshore watching as boats of all sizes made their way through the locks. Though some people ardently proclaimed that the soul of the river would be forever lost by the building of the Three Gorges Dam, my general impression was that the beauty of the Gorges and towering hillsides has not been diminished by the changes to the contour of the river. In addition, the vast scope of the dam across such a mighty river is an engineering marvel which will remain a major symbol of national pride for years to come.

Experiencing the Three Gorges

Traveling on upstream we stopped briefly in the town of Zigui which holds a tomb and memorial pavilion for one of China’s well-known poets and is famous for its dragon boat racing during festival times. One of the main benefits of traveling by slow boat across China is having time available to lounge on the deck, contemplate the beauty of the scenery passing by, and meet new friends from all walks of life. At mealtimes in the dining room everyone sat together at tables and discussed not only the quality of the Chinese food being served, but ideas on issues that affect people everywhere. Afterwards the inevitable game of cards or chess would begin under the watchful eyes of an interested audience. Each time we pulled into a port along the way, merchants would scramble to sell their hot meals of rice and fish quickly ladled into styrofoam trays and passed into outstretched arms holding out money. This routine was repeated countless times at all hours of the day and night as passengers and cargo were shuttled across the main deck in each small town.

The middle gorge, Wuxia Gorge, extends for 44 kilometers through deep valleys and forest covered mountains, though during our transit a heavy mist dropped in which served to intensify a sense of closeness to the gorge walls. This section is full of zigzags making the route appear completely blocked by mountains until the ship makes a sharp turn and the river opens up ahead. Voyaging through this narrow section of the Yangtze an interesting way to spend some time is to stand on the deck and watch other river barges pass on their journey downriver loaded with all kinds of different cargo. At the western edge of the gorge the Twelve Peaks of Mt. Wu can be seen on a clear day and add a completely different panorama of beauty. Here our ship made a quick stop at Wushan where some passengers disembarked to take side trips to see the Three Small Gorges on the Daning River.

The final gorge, Qutang Gorge, is the shortest at just 8 kilometers in length but boasts the grandest and most dramatic sights. Looking out at the sheer, steep cliffs one can view Meng Liang Staircase which dates back to the Song Dynasty on the south bank just before arriving at Baidi City otherwise known as the White Emperor City where the river rolls and surges along. Another important city, Yunyang located on the north bank is famous for its salt industry. On the opposite side sitting on top of Flying Phoenix Hill is Zhangfei Temple with glazed tile and red walls. The ship made another stop at Wanxian which is an important port for the textile industry with its bustling market selling bamboo handicrafts, local food specialties like bean curd milk and spicy noodles, and a wide variety of fresh fruit. Ships traveling downstream generally drop anchor here around midnight in order to be ready to go through the gorges with the first shaft of dawn’s daylight.

Shibaozhai, a very picturesque 12-story red wooden pagoda situated on the north bank, has long stood as a gem of Chinese architecture. Literally called “Stone Treasure Fortress”, the facility dates back to the Qing Dynasty with stairs running to the top for a nice view of the river. Built high upon a rectangular sheer cliff rock, the temple now sits close to the waters edge with the rest of the bluff underwater. Each floor of the wooden structure contains interesting artifacts, paintings and sculptures and is certainly worth a brief visit. Our final stop was at the city of Fengdu, located on the north bank and known as the “Ghost City” to most Chinese people, a reputation it earned during the Eastern Han Dynasty. Here on Mingshan Hill there are fantastic temples of underworld gods constructed, according to tradition, as a place for punishing the devil and awarding good.

Thus the journey came to an end as we neared Chongqing, a bustling city in the southeast part of the Sichuan Basin located where the Yangtze and Jialing Rivers meet. As the largest industrial and commercial city for southwest China this major economic trade center was established more than 3,000 years ago. The inland port was opened to foreign trade in 1890 and the city has played a key role in the growing economy of the southwest region ever since. Surrounded by mountains on all sides Chongqing is known for its humid and cloudy climate suitably demonstrated the day we arrived with clouds and rain showers. Getting off the boat, passengers are faced with a significant climb up a well-worn flight of stairs or a quick ride on a cable tram. The city was built on the edge of the bluffs and is quite mountainous with some neighborhoods hanging suspended against the sheer rock. Once the capital city of China, the city boasts an interesting history and is where the U.S. Flying Tigers successfully helped to defend the skies from daily Japanese air raids.

My Yangtze River travel now at an end I took a moment to gaze back down the river in the direction the ship had just traversed and review all the good memories and beautiful sights along the way. The Yangtze River has done much to nourish China’s long and splendid culture and remains one of China’s most revered attractions. A cruise along the Yangtze with its varied cultural heritage and scenic views is a wonderful way to experience inland China at her best.