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上有天堂,下有苏杭 - Heaven Above, Suzhou and Hangzhou below
“Beyond doubt the finest and the noblest in the world” was Marco Polo’s verdict on Hangzhou. Mind you he also said the city was 100miles across and had 12,000 stone bridges, but I guess falling in love does funny things to a man, so we’ll let him off this one.
Whether he would have come to the same conclusion had he visited since prefabricated concrete has rolled in by the tonne is probably unlikely, but nonetheless modern Hangzhou shakes off many of the uglier features that blight Chinese cities to ooze considerable charm. Of all the Chinese cities I’ve visited to date, it is easily the one I would want to live in the most. And I’m not alone - it was recently voted China’s most liveable.
History Hangzhou was the capital of the Southern Song Dynasty in the 12th and 13th century. It was a thriving home to merchants, scholars and poets. The term “Venice of the East” is often banded around and there is no doubt it was a cultural and economic centre. During it’s heyday estimates have the population comfortably over the million mark and
it is believed to have been the largest city in the world.
These days, though, genuine history is at more of a premium. Hangzhou’s closely-packed wooden buildings were a finely crafted pile of tinder and fires were a regular occurrence. One temple in particular has been destroyed (and rebuilt) no fewer than 16 times due to fire, war and political fiddlings. But actually it doesn’t detract from the place at all - the rebuilding of history is itself part of the history of the city, so knowing that the pagoda you’re admiring is no more than a decade old is some of the character of the place. It’s all just part of the cycle.
Buddha-ful But it’s not the ample history that is the big draw to Hangzhou these days it is in fact (believe it or not for a sprawling Chinese metropolis) its natural beauty. The modern day conurbation (population of 6.2 million) is nestled up against Xihu - the West lake. Before my trip I told at least half a dozen different colleagues of my intentions to visit Hangzhou, and without fail the response was identical: “ah yes, the West Lake, very beautiful”. And so it
is. The lake is an old marsh, 6 square kilometres in area that though the ages has been cleared, and now sits beside 50 square kilometres of lush, rolling hills and gardens that are sprinkled lightly with pagodas and temples, all of which silhouette the skyline romantically.
Lush Xihu really is an ideal spot for a stroll. It forces you to slow your pace, to open the senses and to admire the nature. It’s also quite staggeringly green everywhere. Were a 6-year old to paint a picture of a garden, it would look similar. Awash with colours, many of which are painted well outside the lines.
Rain in the Excitement I’m afraid the photos can’t do it justice though - the weather was too wet humid for clear photos, which would no doubt have been striking on a clear day with the sun glistening off the water. Not that I minded the rain, in fact I rather enjoyed wallowing in it. It rarely rains in Beijing, but when it does it’s utterly disappointing. It doesn’t smell right (there’s a whiff of burnt toast to it), it doesn’t taste right and it doesn’t feel right. The only benefit it
does is to wash the air of a chunk of its smog and pollution. But in Hangzhou things were different. It smelt sweet like rain should, and it’s soft to the touch. Shut your eyes and it could be an August bank holiday in Ilfracombe.
And when it wasn’t raining, even just the humidity was a delight. Beijing is irrepressibly dry; Hangzhou on the other hand was like snuggling up to a moist sponge (an experience much more desirable than that metaphor would suggest). I spent much of the weekend walking round taking large, frog like, gulps of air in the hope that I could store up enough inside me to overcome the need to breathe for at least the first 72 hours back in Beijing.
A Gauge of Umbrellas And the rain certainly didn’t put off other tourists either - the gardens were a sea of umbrellas (though when you’re a foot taller than most of those wielding said umbrellas perhaps a more appropriate collective term would be a “gauge” of umbrellas). Many were visitors from other parts of China, but you also got the impression that many were locals proudly enjoying their city’s charms. And even
away from lake in the city itself the cityfolk seemed to be pleasantly laid back, and happy in the self-confidence that their city is one of the finest in all of China. I almost bit my own tongue off when a bus stopped for us at pedestrian crossings. What is this place? I could’ve hugged it...
On top of the loveliness of the place, the local AIESECers who received us could not have been a more cheery, friendly bunch. There really must be something in the water here. I left contemplating the practicalities of a Hangzhou-Beijing daily commute to work...
Reading back, it seems I’ve mainly dribbled on about the rain. You can take a man of England but you can’t take England out the man...
Datong Those who read my blog "
Datong - at the Coalface of China" may be interested in:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8672104.stm
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lewis siwel
lewis lin
A sentimental essay
I am glad that you have experienced an enjoyable journey to Hangzhou. If you got chance traveling backward to the Marco Polo's time, maybe you'll find a more impressive city with hundreds of Buddhist temples standing here and there as landmarks which have been reduced to less than five now. After all, tour of today's Chinese paradise will not be a waste of time for most travelers when the municipality began pouring billions of yuan into it since 1980s. And your writing is the latest testimonial, bringing me much pleasure. Thank You Jerry. Well written !