Travel on Victor42

A Relaxing 6 Day 5 Night Early Summer Trip to Xi an

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Thu, 28 May 2026 20:39:00 +0000

Bordering the Hexi Corridor to the west and China’s vast eastern plains, the Guanzhong Plain has witnessed the rise and fall of countless brilliant civilizations. Visiting this ancient land in early summer, you can truly feel the weight of history beneath your feet.

Day 1: Bell and Drum Towers & Muslim Quarter

Xi’an Bell and Drum Towers

The Bell Tower sits at the absolute center of modern Xi’an, connecting directly to the city wall’s four main gates.

The gate names hold deep meaning: Changle (Everlasting Joy) to the east, Yongning (Everlasting Peace) to the south, Anding (Stability) to the west, and Anyuan (Pacifying the Distant) to the north. Together, their first characters form a wish for eternal peace in Chang’an.

Though the original Tang structures are gone, the current towers date back to the Ming Dynasty. A perfectly preserved Tang Dynasty bell is now displayed in the northwest corner.

Historically, these towers weren’t just for keeping time; they enforced the law. Tang Chang’an ran on a strict curfew, and anyone caught roaming the streets between the evening drum and morning bell risked execution. The romanticized “morning bell and evening drum” was actually a highly stressful daily reality for ancient citizens.

The view from the Bell Tower reveals a central axis stretching straight to the horizon. Such an immaculate layout, conceived over 1,400 years ago, required a massive population, strict royal etiquette, and elite urban planning—earning its World Heritage status today. Local drivers joke that navigating this grid is entirely stress-free; if you miss a turn, you just take the next one.

A short walk away is the Drum Tower, equipped with 24 smaller drums marking traditional solar terms and a main drum for timekeeping.

Inside, you’ll find exquisite Ming Dynasty furniture and artifacts.

In May, swifts fill the sky, darting close to visitors’ ears. The complex wooden brackets of the ancient architecture make perfect nesting spots. Cities change, but these ancient ruins remain a sanctuary for the birds year after year.

Muslim Quarter

The Muslim Quarter is massive. “Muslim Street” is just its most commercialized tourist hub.

I actually prefer the deeper alleys around Huajue Lane. We explored them on Day 6. They’re bustling with e-bikes and locals buying groceries, offering a much more authentic vibe.

Walking back to our hotel, the illuminated Drum Tower and circling swifts pushed Xi’an’s ancient ambiance to its absolute peak.

Day 2: Terracotta Army

In Xi’an, you can justify skipping any attraction—except the Terracotta Army. Since the palaces of the Qin and Han dynasties were mostly destroyed or abandoned, the Tang Dynasty dominates the city’s visible history. The Terracotta Army is the ultimate window into China 2,000 years ago.

Pit 1

The guide mentioned that before the discovery, this was just a farming village. When locals unearthed pottery while digging a foundation, it changed their lives—and history—forever.

The panoramic view of Pit 1. The guide joked that out of the 120 RMB ticket, this view alone is worth 100.

Pit 1 contains mostly infantry and features the largest number of restored figures.

The sea of fragments in the back reveals the reality of the excavation; nearly every standing figure was painstakingly pieced together from thousands of shards.

These weren’t simple toys; Emperor Qin intended to bring a true-to-life army into the afterlife. The figures’ outfits strictly dictate military rank. While the bodies were mass-produced, the varied facial features reflect the diverse ethnic makeup of both the artisans and the Qin military.

Pit 3

Pit 3 is smaller but acts as the command center, featuring higher-ranking officers and cavalry.

Many figures here are headless. Archaeologists suspect it wasn’t looted, but simply abandoned midway due to the peasant uprisings that toppled the dynasty.

Notice how all the warriors are empty-handed? Their wooden weapons rotted away, leaving only bronze triggers and arrowheads. Rumors credit advanced anti-rust technology for preserving the bronze, but it was actually the dense, alkaline loess soil that sealed out the oxygen.

We also walked past Pit 4—completely empty. The dynasty collapsed before it could be filled.

Pit 2

Pit 2 houses the iconic Kneeling Archer. Because of its lower profile, it survived roof collapses beautifully and has become a symbol of Xi’an.

The most chilling detail is the hyper-realistic tread on the archer’s shoe. It’s a testament to the Qin state’s terrifying standardization.

Every weapon and tile had its maker’s name carved into it. If a part failed, the artisan was executed. This unparalleled craftsmanship wasn’t born from artistic passion, but from a desperate need to stay alive.

What drove the Emperor to build this? After conquering the known world, his only undefeated enemy was time. He poured his empire’s resources into defeating death, treating the afterlife as more vital than the living world. It’s no wonder his dynasty barely outlived him.

Large sections remain unexcavated, clearly showing the collapsed wooden roof beams that originally sheltered the army.

Another highlight is the imposing General figure.

His square-toed shoes mark his elite rank.

Museum

The museum details the Qin’s brutal but effective military meritocracy, which fueled the state’s unstoppable expansion.

A broken figure perfectly illustrates the hollow torso construction.

A color restoration of the General. The vivid “Chinese Purple” oxidized and vanished within days of excavation, leaving only the terracotta color we see today.

Lishan Garden

A quick taxi ride took us to Lishan Garden, the actual burial mound of Emperor Qin.

The Terracotta Army is merely the eastern garrison for this massive necropolis.

The absolute masterpieces here are the half-scale Bronze Chariots.

These aren’t static models. The doors open, the joints move—if the Emperor were shrunk by half, he could drive them away.

Nearby is a pit of civil officials, complete with tools for scraping bamboo slips, proving he intended to take his entire bureaucracy to the grave.

He even sacrificed real, highly prized horses. Emperor Qin tried to replicate his entire empire underground, complete with rivers of flowing mercury, all in a futile war against time.

Day 3: Tang Paradise

Today was dedicated to a Tang-style photoshoot for my wife and daughter.

Tang makeup evolved drastically over time. Early Tang aesthetics leaned toward slim elegance.

It wasn’t until the High Tang era that the bold, vibrant makeup we stereotypically associate with the dynasty became popular. Tang Paradise itself is a purely modern theme park built on the historical site of the royal gardens.

The park is anchored by the grand Ziyun Tower. Historically, Emperor Xuanzong diverted water from the Qinling Mountains to build this garden, causing a severe drinking water shortage for his citizens.

To visit without mingling with the public, Xuanzong built an elevated, fully enclosed private road called “Jiacheng.” This physical separation mirrored his growing detachment from the common people, signaling the slow decline of the empire.

We rented a boat for a leisurely cruise before returning our costumes early.

Day 4: Pagodas & Everbright City

Xi’an Museum

The floor map explains a lot: the Han Dynasty capital isn’t fully layered under the Tang capital. The Sui and Tang dynasties essentially abandoned the old, cramped ruins and built an immaculate grid city from scratch.

Han inherited Qin’s traditions, producing their own, albeit smaller, terracotta warriors.

The museum heavily features the Silk Road, which the Han initiated and the Tang perfected.

Downstairs, we explored Tang Chang’an’s layout. Its 150-meter-wide main avenue was designed to psychologically overwhelm commoners. Later, emperors retreated to the elevated Daming Palace. This physical isolation bred political instability, eventually allowing eunuchs to seize military power and orchestrate the dynasty’s collapse.

This grand grid layout deeply influenced Japanese capitals like Nara and Kyoto.

Outside stands the Little Wild Goose Pagoda, which miraculously survived a devastating Ming-era earthquake.

Big Wild Goose Pagoda

Next was the Big Wild Goose Pagoda inside the active Da Ci’en Temple.

It leans slightly northwest due to historic groundwater extraction, though the tilt is stabilizing.

Built for the famous monk Xuanzang, it safely stored the precious Buddhist texts he hauled back from India.

Xuanzang took a grueling northern route to India primarily because it offered the diplomatic protection of established Buddhist kingdoms.

Grand Tang Everbright City

We spent the evening strolling through this massive, bustling Tang-themed pedestrian district.

Day 5: City Wall & Guangren Temple

Xi’an City Wall

We ascended via the South Gate (Yongning Gate). It boasts a formidable three-tier defense: gate tower, archery tower, and sluice tower, with a trapping “barbican” courtyard in between.

The wall features protruding bastions (“horse faces”) to eliminate defensive blind spots.

I noticed sloped edges and found ancient Ming drainage systems hidden beneath modern grates—crucial for protecting the rammed earth core from water damage. The wall’s low, thick design marks the military shift from repelling ladders to absorbing cannon fire.

Guangren Temple

Located in the northwest corner, this rare Tibetan Buddhist temple features Ming architecture.

The Qing Dynasty smartly patronized Tibetan Buddhism to cement alliances with Mongolian and Tibetan factions, ensuring border stability.

My daughter was thrilled to spin the prayer wheels, which I explained was a traditional way to make wishes.

Dream of Chang’an

We returned to the South Gate for this immersive evening show. The audience plays the role of foreign envoys arriving in the Tang capital.

After an outdoor welcome, we moved into the barbican for an elegant performance celebrating Tang poetry, martial arts, and cultural fusion.

Day 6: Great Mosque

Deep in the Muslim Quarter lies a mosque dating back to the Tang Dynasty, though its current look is distinctively Ming.

Due to aggressive Ming assimilation policies, the mosque was built disguised as a classic Confucian temple, complete with flying eaves. The only giveaway is its east-facing entrance, directing worshippers west toward Mecca.

The Chinese wooden brackets act identically to Islamic pendentives, shifting weight to open up the prayer hall.

In the innermost courtyard, you finally see Arabic script ingeniously stylized to mimic square Chinese characters. It’s a remarkable, living testament to cultural survival and fusion.

Geographic Background

Enclosed by the Loess Plateau, Qinling Mountains, and the Yellow River, the Guanzhong Plain is a natural fortress. The loess soil, blown in over millennia, was easy to farm and nurtured early civilization.

Guarded by four tight mountain passes (Hangu, Wu, Dasan, and Xiao), it was the ultimate strategic stronghold for early empires.

However, nature pushed back. Centuries of over-farming and deforestation caused massive soil erosion, severely muddying the local rivers and ruining the ecosystem. This environmental collapse played a major role in later dynasties abandoning the area.

Local Life

Weather, Transit, and Food

May is highly comfortable here (25-30°C). We stayed near the Wulukou metro, providing excellent access to both historic and modern districts.

Xi’an is undeniably the carb capital of China.

We dove into Pita Bread in Mutton Soup, Zenggao (date and sticky rice cake), and various noodles. While I struggled slightly with the intensely sour local flavor profile, the Muslim-style stir-fries were fantastic.

Observations

Xi’an exists as two parallel worlds: the deeply historical and the effortlessly modern.

You don’t have to exhaust yourself climbing ancient towers; you can simply sip coffee on the rooftop of the Kaiyuan Mall for a flawless, vibe-heavy view of the Bell Tower.

The city brilliantly blends ruins into daily life. Inspired by the rammed-earth history, even modern buildings adopt a warm, earthy palette, creating a seamless visual transition across millennia.

It’s also the city that best fulfills Western stereotypes of China, drawing immense crowds of international tourists seeking the “Qin and Tang” experience.

Travel Expenses

Our total for the trip came to just over 11,000 RMB:

Here’s the planning document I used (feel free to copy and adjust): https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/EAKawEhfuiOa2QknREFcTrhvnQd?from=from_copylink

Trip planning follows a specific logic. If you’re curious about my process, check out this guide: How to make a travel itinerary step by step.

Xinjiang Travel Guide Exploring Nature and Ethnic Cultures

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Mon, 13 Apr 2026 11:03:00 +0000

Fresh off a trip to Xishuangbanna, I couldn’t wait to plan my next adventure. The destination—Xinjiang.

The furthest west I’d ever been was Dunhuang. I was completely clueless about traveling in Xinjiang, knowing only that the Tianshan Mountains split it into North and South. I had a very fuzzy idea of what each region offered or what to expect.

Xinjiang is massive. To narrow down my options, I spent two nights heavily researching, organizing, and verifying info with AI to build this conceptual travel guide. It breaks down the travel experience across Xinjiang’s prefectures through two lenses: natural scenery and ethnic culture. Pairing this with a deep dive into Xinjiang’s administrative and topographical maps helped me form a solid baseline understanding of the region. It was a game-changer.

Of course, this is just a starting point. This guide is far from exhaustive, paints in broad strokes, and likely contains a few blind spots. I’ll have to rely on my own eyes and feet to fill in the blanks and make corrections.

Part 1: Natural Scenery

A breakdown of signature landscapes across Xinjiang’s 14 prefectures.

Overview: The Geographic Logic of Xinjiang

You can sum up Xinjiang’s geography in one phrase: Three mountains sandwiching two basins.

Altai Mountains — Northern grasslands, forests, and lakes
Junggar Basin — Northern Gobi, deserts, and oases
Tianshan Mountains — Grasslands, snow peaks, and canyons (The North/South divide)
Tarim Basin — Deserts, Gobi, oases, and desert poplars
Kunlun Mountains & Pamir Plateau — Ultra-high peaks, glaciers, and alpine lakes

Northern Xinjiang vibe: Grasslands, lakes, forests, snow mountains — lush, abundant, scenic. Southern Xinjiang vibe: Deserts, Gobi, canyons, desert poplars — vast, epic, rugged. Eastern Xinjiang vibe: Flaming Mountains, Yardang formations, extreme heat — harsh, unique.

Northern Xinjiang (7 Prefectures & Cities)

1. Ili Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture — The Jiangnan Beyond the Great Wall

The Ili River Valley opens westward, catching moist Atlantic currents. It boasts the highest rainfall and lushest vegetation in Xinjiang, earning the nickname “Wet Island of Central Asia.”

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Kalajun Grassland	A “3D Grassland” and World Natural Heritage site with distinct vertical layers	World Heritage, 3D Grassland
Kuerdening	World Natural Heritage, the most intact reserve of Tianshan Schrenk’s spruce	World Heritage, Spruce Forest
Nalati Grassland	One of China’s top six grasslands, famous for its “sky meadow” landscape	5A Scenic Area, Sky Grassland
Tangbula Grassland	A “Hundred-Mile Gallery” featuring endless flower fields along highway S315	Scenic Gallery, Road Trip
Sayram Lake	Xinjiang’s highest and largest alpine cold-water lake; the “last tear of the Atlantic”	Alpine Lake, Deep Blue
Guozigou Bridge	A spectacular suspension bridge cutting through Tianshan	Engineering Marvel
Zhaosu Grassland	Hometown of heavenly horses, massive July rapeseed fields, gateway to glaciers	Horse Culture, Glaciers
Xiata Ancient Trail	Historic pass crossing Tianshan to the Muzart Glacier; a hiker’s paradise	Glacier Hiking, Ancient Trail
Qiaxi Forest Park	Virgin spruce forests, Ili’s hidden gem with fewer crowds	Primeval Forest, Niche

Summary: Alpine grasslands + spruce forests + glacier trails + alpine lakes. This area offers the most concentrated and diverse natural beauty in Xinjiang.

2. Altay Prefecture — The Oriental Switzerland

Located at the southern foot of the Altai Mountains. Its forest-lake-snow-mountain scenery, centered around Kanas Lake, peaks in autumn.

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Kanas Lake	Deep alpine lake famous for color-changing water and “lake monster” legends	5A Area, Photography
Hemu Village	Tuva settlement with rustic cabins, birch forests, and morning mist	Tuva Village, Autumn Colors
Baihaba	The “Northwest’s First Village” on the border, mixing Kazakh and Tuva cultures	Border Village, Rustic
Koktokay	Global Geopark featuring the granite Shenzhong Mountain at the Irtysh River source	Global Geopark
Wucaitan (Rainbow Beach)	Yardang landforms by the Irtysh River with stunning sunset views	Yardang, Sunsets
Ulungur Lake	Xinjiang’s second-largest freshwater lake; great for winter ice fishing	Lake, Fishing

Summary: Alpine lakes + primeval forests + Yardang landforms + border villages. Mid-September to early October is the golden window.

3. Bortala Mongol Autonomous Prefecture — Gateway to Sayram Lake

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Sayram Lake	Xinjiang’s highest (2071m) alpine cold-water lake with a scenic ring road	Alpine Lake, 5A Area
Hariturege	Primeval forest canyon at the source of the Bortala River	Forest Canyon, Niche

Bortala is small, but Sayram Lake is its crown jewel. It sits perfectly on the route from Urumqi to Ili, making it a must-pass destination.

4. Tacheng Prefecture — Grasslands and Borders

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Ganjiahu Forest	The world’s largest primeval Haloxylon forest reserve	Desert Forest, Ecology
Lujiaowan	Summer alpine meadows in the Barluk Mountains	Alpine Pastures
Baketu Port	Border crossing offering views into Kazakhstan	Border Port

Tacheng’s scenery is scattered and less commercially developed, making it ideal for deep, niche exploration.

5. Changji Hui Autonomous Prefecture — Tianshan’s Northern Gateway

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Heavenly Lake (Tianchi)	Xinjiang’s most iconic attraction; an alpine lake beneath Bogda Peak	5A Area, Iconic Landmark
Jiangbulake	Alpine meadows blending with rolling seas of golden wheat (July-Aug)	Meadows, Wheat Fields
S101 Highway	The “Tianshan Geographic Gallery” featuring Danxia landforms and canyons	Road Trip, Danxia

Right next to Urumqi, Changji is home to the postcard-perfect Tianchi (a half-day trip) and the increasingly popular S101 road trip route.

6. Urumqi City — The Metropolis

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Nanshan Scenic Area	Pastures and forests on the northern Tianshan slopes; a quick 1.5h drive away	Suburban Pasture
Bogda Peak	Eastern Tianshan’s highest peak (5445m); visible in the distance	Snow Mountain

Urumqi is primarily a transport hub. While nature isn’t its main draw, Nanshan is a great weekend escape.

7. Karamay City — Yardangs and Gobi

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Urho Ghost City	One of China’s top three Yardang landscapes; features wind-eroded castles	Yardang Landforms, 5A
Ailik Lake	Karamay’s only natural freshwater lake; an oasis in the Gobi	Lake, Niche

Karamay is defined by its Yardang landscapes. The Ghost City is a classic pitstop on the drive to Kanas.

Southern Xinjiang (5 Prefectures)

8. Bayingolin Mongol Autonomous Prefecture — Xinjiang’s Largest

Covering a quarter of Xinjiang, Bayingolin spans across Tianshan, featuring both the lush north and the arid south.

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Bayinbuluke Grassland	China’s second-largest grassland; famous for Swan Lake and sunset river bends	Alpine Grassland, Sunsets
Bosten Lake	China’s largest inland freshwater lake, bordered by vast reed marshes	Large Lake, Reeds
Luntai Poplar Forest	World’s largest primeval desert poplar forest; turns golden in late autumn	Poplar Forest, Desert
Luobu Village	Desert oasis home to descendants of the Lop Nur people	Desert Oasis, Culture
Tianshan Stone Forest	A rare high-altitude geological marvel near Bayinbuluke	Stone Forest, Niche
Kumtag Desert	The closest desert to any urban area in the world	Desert, Hiking

Summary: Incredible geographic diversity. From Bayinbuluke in the north to the Tarim poplars in the south, it’s the only prefecture containing grasslands, massive lakes, and deserts.

9. Aksu Prefecture — The Canyon Kingdom

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Tianshan Grand Canyon	Giant reddish-brown canyons often called “China’s Colorado”	Red Canyon, 5A Area
Wensu Grand Canyon	Even larger than Tianshan Canyon; a massive mix of Danxia and Yardang	Grand Canyon, Danxia
Tomur Peak	The absolute highest peak in the Tianshan range (7443m)	Ultra-High Peak
Tarim River Source	Headwaters of China’s longest inland river	River Source
Shaya Poplar Forest	Primeval forests along the middle reaches of the Tarim River	Poplar Forest

Summary: Canyons are the main event. Keziliya and Wensu are jaw-dropping geological wonders.

10. Kizilsu Kyrgyz Autonomous Prefecture (Kezhou) — Gateway to the Pamirs

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Oytak Red Mountain	Volcanic landforms meeting glaciers; an “ice and fire” spectacle	Volcano & Glacier
Muji Crater	The “Eye of the Pamirs,” 1500-year-old craters amid plateau wetlands	Crater, Wetlands
Karakul Lake	Glacial lake at 3600m offering stunning mountain reflections	Plateau Lake

Kezhou’s scenery clusters at the Pamir Plateau entrance. Oytak and Muji are brilliant niche spots for photographers.

11. Kashgar Prefecture — The Pamirs

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Pamir Plateau	The “Roof of the World” (4000m+); core stretch of the Karakoram Highway	Plateau, Epic Road
Muztagh Ata	The “Father of Ice Mountains” (7546m); a landmark of the Pamirs	Ultra-High Peak
Baisha Lake	Half white sand, half turquoise water; the Pamirs’ most beautiful lake	Plateau Lake, White Sand
Karakul Lake	Famous for its flawless reflections of Muztagh Ata	Plateau Lake
Panlong Ancient Road	A winding road with over 600 hairpin turns	Highway Landscape
Tashkurgan	Plateau town housing the Stone City ruins and the gateway to Pakistan	Ancient Town, Border

Summary: The Pamirs are the crown jewel here. This is the highest and most “extreme” landscape zone in Xinjiang.

12. Hotan Prefecture — Heart of the Taklamakan

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Taklamakan Desert	The world’s second-largest shifting sand desert; the “Sea of Death”	Shifting Desert
Desert Highway	Cuts straight through the Taklamakan; an incredibly isolating drive	Extreme Highway
Niya Ruins	The “Pompeii of the East” hidden deep in the desert	Ruins, Exploration

Hotan is all about the desert. It is the driest place in Xinjiang, defined by desolate, vast beauty.

Eastern Xinjiang (2 Cities)

13. Turpan City — Fire and Extreme Heat

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Flaming Mountains	Red mountains known from Journey to the West; summer temps hit 80°C	Extreme Heat, Landmark
Grape Valley	An oasis canyon entirely shaded by grape trellises	Oasis Canyon, Orchard
Kumtag Desert	Urban desert walkable from Shanshan county	Urban Desert
Karez System	Ancient underground irrigation system	Water Conservancy
Tuyugou	Oldest Uyghur village featuring ancient Thousand Buddha Caves	Canyon Village, Culture

At -154m, Turpan is the lowest and hottest place in China. The landscape contrasts extreme heat with cool oases.

14. Hami City — Eastern Gateway

Landscape	Highlights	Tags
Dahaidao	Spectacular Yardang formations; a Mars-like no-man’s land	Yardang, No-Man’s Land
Barkol Lake	Transition zone between Tianshan grasslands and the Gobi	Alpine Lake
Hami Ghost City	Massive Yardang landforms second only to Urho	Yardang Landforms

Dahaidao is a recently hyped destination, perfect for off-roaders and serious photographers.

Cross-Regional Landscape Comparisons

High-Altitude Lakes

Lake	Location	Elevation	Vibe
Sayram Lake	Bortala	2071m	Deep blue, highest alpine lake
Kanas Lake	Altay	1374m	Color-changing water, forests
Tianchi	Changji	1910m	Iconic landmark
Karakul Lake	Kezhou/Kashgar	3600m	Mountain reflections
Bayinbuluke	Bayingolin	2500m	Swan habitat, winding rivers
Baisha Lake	Kashgar	3300m	The most beautiful Pamir lake

Deserts & Gobi

Landscape	Location	Vibe
Taklamakan	Hotan/Bayingolin/Aksu	Shifting sands, massive scale
Kumtag	Turpan/Qiemo	Deserts touching the city
Urho Ghost City	Karamay	Premier Yardang landforms
Dahaidao	Hami	Mars-like no-man’s land

(Condensed for brevity while maintaining utility).

Travel Planning Guide (Nature)

Northern Xinjiang (Nature Focus)

Top Pick: Ili (5-7 days): Grasslands, forests, lakes, and glaciers. Highest density of scenery.
Add-on: Altay (3-4 days): Unbeatable autumn colors at Kanas and Hemu (Best in Sept-Oct, contrasting Ili’s June-Aug peak).
Pitstops: Sayram Lake, Tianchi, Urho Ghost City.

Southern Xinjiang (Geography Focus)

Pamir Plateau (2-3 days): Muztagh Ata and plateau lakes.
Canyon Route (Aksu): Tianshan and Wensu Grand Canyons.
Desert & Poplars (Bayingolin/Hotan): Taklamakan Highway and Luntai poplars (late October).

Eastern Xinjiang (Extremes)

Turpan (1-2 days): Flaming Mountains, Grape Valley, and extreme heat.
Hami (1 day): Dahaidao off-roading.

Part 2: Ethnic Culture

Based on data from the 2020 Seventh National Population Census.

I. Overall Demographics

Xinjiang is a highly diverse region with a resident population of 25.85 million:

Uyghur: 11.62 million (44.96%)
Han: 10.92 million (42.24%)
Other Minorities (Kazakh, Hui, Mongol, etc.): 3.31 million (12.80%)

Core Insight: While Uyghurs are the largest single ethnic group, they do not hold an absolute majority. The Han-to-Uyghur ratio is nearly 1:1, with over a dozen other minorities spread across the region.

II. Spatial Layout at a Glance

Northern Xinjiang

Urumqi, Karamay, Changji, Bortala, Tacheng: Han majority, modern urban vibe.
Ili River Valley: A multi-ethnic melting pot.
Altay: Kazakh majority (The only prefecture where a non-Han group exceeds 50%).

Southern Xinjiang

Kashgar & Hotan: The cultural core of the south, heavily Uyghur (~97% and ~93% respectively).
Aksu & Kezhou: Uyghur majority.
Bayingolin (Korla): An outlier in the south with a Han majority (~59%).

III. Two Distinct Cultural Experiences

Xinjiang has many minorities, but Uyghur and Kazakh cultures offer the most distinct and tourism-ready experiences.

The Uyghur — Oasis Agricultural Civilization

Geography: South of Tianshan, oasis towns around the Tarim Basin.
Lifestyle: Settled agriculture and vibrant bazaar trading.
Experiences: Exploring massive bazaars in Kashgar, walking through ancient labyrinthine streets, visiting mosques, and enjoying oasis orchards.
Food: Polo (pilaf), baked samsa, naan-pit meat, and hand-pulled noodles.
Top Destination: Kashgar. It is the absolute heart of Southern Xinjiang and the most perfectly preserved “living” city on the Silk Road.

The Kazakh — Steppe Nomadic Civilization

Geography: North of Tianshan, from the Ili Valley to the Altai Mountains.
Lifestyle: Seasonal nomadic herding, transitioning between summer and winter pastures.
Experiences: Staying in white yurts, witnessing grand seasonal migrations, and experiencing equestrian culture (horse racing, sheep tossing).
Food: Boiled mutton, Naryn (noodles with meat), mare’s milk, and baursak (fried dough).
Top Destination: Ili. It offers the most mature combination of stunning grassland scenery and accessible Kazakh herder culture.

Part 3: Travel Logistics

Flights from Hangzhou to Xinjiang

Urumqi: Direct flights available. The universal hub with the most options.
Kashgar: Direct flights available. Ideal for heading straight to the Southern core.
Altay: Direct flights available. Perfect for chasing Northern autumn colors without layovers. Note: Other cities require layovers in Urumqi or stopover flights.

North vs. South Quick Comparison

Vibe	South Xinjiang (Uyghur)	North Xinjiang (Kazakh)
Core Hubs	Kashgar, Hotan	Yining, Altay
Best Seasons	Spring/Autumn (Avoid summer heat)	Summer (Grasslands), Autumn (Altay)
Pace	Slow, cultural, wandering bazaars	Long drives, hiking, massive landscapes
Language	Uyghur dominant; Mandarin limited	Mandarin widely spoken

Final Itinerary Tips

First-Timers: Go North (Ili). The visual impact of grasslands and lakes is unbeatable, and the infrastructure is very forgiving.
Plenty of Time (10+ days): Fly direct to Kashgar for 3-4 days in the South, fly back to Urumqi, then spend 5-6 days in Ili to experience both worlds.
Autumn Chasers: Fly direct to Altay in late September to catch Kanas at its golden peak.
Southern Xinjiang Notes: Keep a translation app handy, expect security checkpoints, and prepare for intense summer heat.

Part 4: Commuting Analysis

Xinjiang is massive—a level of vastness hard to grasp for those used to the densely populated provinces of Eastern China. When traveling on a tight schedule, commuting time becomes a critical factor.

The following data is based on real-time queries from the Amap (Gaode Maps) Driving Route API, grouped by Xinjiang’s 14 prefectural-level administrative divisions. Distances and times represent the estimated driving distance and time from the nearest airport to the attraction. Please note that road conditions vary significantly by season and weather; these values are for reference only.

1. Urumqi City

Airport: Urumqi Diwopu International Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Heavenly Lake (Tianchi)	73 km	56 min
Nanshan Scenic Area	143 km	1h 39 min

2. Changji Hui Autonomous Prefecture ⚠️ No local airport; uses Urumqi

Airport: Urumqi Diwopu International Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Heavenly Lake (Tianchi)	73 km	56 min
Jiangbulake	236 km	2h 38 min

3. Ili Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture

Airport: Yining Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Kalajun Grassland	123 km	1h 47 min
Nalati Grassland	245 km	3h 09 min
Kuerdening	152 km	2h 11 min
Tangbula Grassland	227 km	3h 13 min
Qiaxi Forest Park	179 km	2h 57 min
Zhaosu Grassland	183 km	2h 39 min
Xiata Ancient Trail	270 km	4h 02 min

4. Altay Prefecture

Airport: Altay Xuedu Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Kanas Scenic Area	229 km	3h 12 min
Hemu Village	260 km	3h 46 min
Baihaba Village	248 km	3h 59 min
Wucaitan (Rainbow Beach)	106 km	1h 19 min
Ulungur Lake	106 km	1h 44 min
Koktokay	290 km	3h 29 min

5. Tacheng Prefecture

Airport: Tacheng Qianquan Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Barluk Mountains	180 km	2h 48 min
Ganjiahu Haloxylon Forest	486 km	6h 39 min

6. Bortala Mongol Autonomous Prefecture

Airport: Bole Alashankou Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Sayram Lake	131 km	2h 01 min
Hariturege	61 km	1h 01 min

7. Karamay City

Airport: Karamay Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Urho Ghost City	92 km	1h 27 min
Ailik Lake	91 km	1h 44 min

8. Bayingolin Mongol Autonomous Prefecture

Airport: Korla Licheng Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Bosten Lake	76 km	1h 08 min
Luobu Village	80 km	1h 31 min
Luntai Poplar Forest	197 km	2h 43 min
Bayinbuluke	376 km	5h 18 min
Kumtag Desert	661 km	8h 32 min

9. Aksu Prefecture

Airport: Aksu Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Wensu Grand Canyon	49 km	42 min
Tianshan Grand Canyon	305 km	3h 33 min
Shaya Poplar Forest	252 km	3h 10 min

10. Kizilsu Kyrgyz Autonomous Prefecture (Kezhou) ⚠️ No local airport; uses Kashgar

Airport: Kashgar Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Oytak Red Mountain	99 km	1h 36 min
Muji Crater	367 km	4h 13 min

11. Kashgar Prefecture

Airport: Kashgar Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Baisha Lake (Pamirs)	158 km	3h 01 min
Karakul Lake	190 km	3h 26 min
Tashkurgan Stone City	290 km	4h 45 min
Panlong Ancient Road	329 km	5h 34 min

12. Hotan Prefecture

Airport: Hotan Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Taklamakan Desert Highway	351 km	6h 33 min
Niya Ruins	371 km	5h 11 min

13. Turpan City

Airport: Turpan Jiaohe Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Grape Valley	15 km	21 min
Karez Folk Custom Park	13 km	20 min
Flaming Mountains	39 km	39 min
Tuyugou	58 km	57 min

14. Hami City

Airport: Hami Airport

Attraction	Distance	Driving Time
Hami Ghost City	38 km	53 min
Dahaidao	171 km	3h 31 min
Barkol Lake	195 km	2h 45 min

6 Days and 5 Nights of Spring Leisure in Jinghong Xishuangbanna

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Thu, 09 Apr 2026 18:17:00 +0000

Visiting Xishuangbanna in late March was a brilliant decision; our family of three returned completely fulfilled.

You might not believe it, but I actually ran a statistical analysis on historical flight prices from Hangzhou to Xishuangbanna. While there were no groundbreaking conclusions, I did spot four distinct price peaks: Spring Festival, the Water Splashing Festival, summer vacation, and National Day. The window between the Spring Festival and the Water Splashing Festival is a clear trough—possibly the lowest of the year. Taking time off to travel then offers incredible value.

I’ve always thought the map of Yunnan Province resembles a short-legged camel. Xishuangbanna sits at the southernmost tip—right on the camel’s hind leg—bordering Myanmar and Laos.

The Xishuangbanna Dai Autonomous Prefecture is vast, comprising three county-level divisions. Jinghong City is the capital and houses the only airport. While Menghai and Mengla counties offer Pu’er tea culture, botanical gardens, and border tours, we kept our family leisure trip strictly within the Jinghong area (the red circle). Our farthest excursion was to Wild Elephant Valley, just an hour’s drive away. For first-time visitors, this red circle easily packs a week’s worth of activities.

We arrived on the evening of Day 1 and kept things light. We grabbed some Dai-style rice noodles near our hotel—the combination of fresh mint and Sichuan peppercorns was absolutely phenomenal. Strolling down the palm-lined city streets, the tropical vibe hit us immediately.

Day 2: Primeval Forest Park & Gaozhuang

Primeval Forest Park

Located just outside Jinghong, this park features a narrow, linear layout—you walk to the end and head back the same way. From the entrance inward, it’s divided into three main stops: Golden Lake, Aini Village, and the Tropical Rainforest.

Aside from general sightseeing, each area hosts scheduled activities. Golden Lake features the signature peacock flight, Aini Village offers interactive folk dances, and the Tropical Rainforest hosts a mini water-splashing party.

We took the sightseeing buggy straight to the farthest point: the Tropical Rainforest. Stepping off, we passed through a food and shopping plaza into the monkey sanctuary.

Unlike traditional zoos, there are no visible fences here. It feels more like wild macaques have naturally gathered due to long-term feeding.

Further in lies the primeval forest loop, which eventually brings you back to the monkeys.

There’s also a paid jungle trekking course, but the minimum age is six, so my daughter couldn’t participate yet.

This rainforest is worlds apart from the woods back in Zhejiang. Thanks to abundant sunlight and rainfall, the vegetation is hyper-dense. Fierce competition forces trees to grow straight up; their trunks remain bare while all the foliage clusters high up in the canopy.

To support their massive weight and absorb surface water, these giants develop extensive root systems that boldly break through the soil. One root structure even looked exactly like a peacock’s flowing dress.

Undergrowth plants have their own survival tactics, evolving massive leaves to capture whatever sunlight trickles down. One banana leaf was larger than my daughter.

Even rough-barked trees are completely overrun by moss, wasting zero surface area. Despite the sunny weather, the rainforest is so humid that you can see water constantly dripping from the moss even at high noon.

The strangler fig is a quintessential feature of Xishuangbanna’s rainforest—a brutal display of botanical usurpation.

We all know banyan trees create their own mini-forests by dropping aerial roots that turn into new trunks. But do those aerial roots serve a purpose before hitting the dirt?

I used to think they didn’t, assuming the main tree supplied all the nutrients. However, a strangler fig’s aerial roots must function independently. Its seeds are deposited high in host trees via bird droppings, germinating in the humus of branch crevices. The aerial roots extract moisture directly from the air as they descend. Once they strike soil, they explode in growth, rapidly transforming into a fully grounded plant and thickening their exposed vines into massive wooden cages.

Often, multiple strangler figs colonize a single host, wrapping it from top to bottom, starving it of light and water. If their growing roots chafe against each other and expose their inner tissues, they can even fuse together, sharing water and nutrients in a process called “natural grafting.” Eventually, the host tree rots away inside, leaving the massive, hollow strangler fig complex standing in its place.

It’s not just the figs. Relentless vines creep everywhere, easily snapping thick bamboo. The flora here is ruthless, crushing competitors to claim dominance.

Next time you hear the phrase “law of the jungle,” don’t picture a polite, temperate forest—picture this tropical battlefield.

Leaving the rainforest zone, we crossed a suspension bridge into Aini Village.

The Hani people call themselves Aini, and this area showcases their culture through exhibits, artifact displays, and interactive dances. There’s also a somewhat out-of-place Dendrobium (orchid) pavilion.

While browsing the cultural boards, I made a fascinating discovery: they have a calendar operating on a base-13 cycle. A prime number!

Our modern astronomical calendars trace back to the Babylonian base-12/60 systems. We count to 10 on our fingers, but they used their hands differently. If you use your right thumb to count the three joints on your other four fingers, you easily count to 12 on one hand. For every 12 on the right hand, you raise one finger on the left hand. Five fingers on the left times 12 equals 60. That’s the origin of our 60-minute hours and 12-sign zodiac.

So, seeing a base-13 system blew my mind since it lacks an obvious anatomical basis.

After digging deeper, I realized it’s not strictly a base-13 mathematical system. A 13-day cycle begins and ends with the “Rat.” This reflects the Hani philosophical view of cycles: a cycle must overlap with the start of the next one to signify renewal and continuity. It’s much like a musical scale (Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Ti)—there are only seven distinct notes, but we always sing the eighth “Do” to complete the octave.

The Hani still operate on a 12-zodiac daily loop. Further research revealed their main traditional calendar is actually a 10-month system inherited from the ancient Qiang people. A year is divided into 10 months of 36 days each (exactly three 12-animal cycles). The remaining 5 or 6 days are artificially inserted as “New Year days.” Ultimately, it’s still rooted in a 10/12 framework.

Leaving the exhibits, we headed upstairs to the Aini Village plaza.

At one end was the Dendrobium pavilion, where I saw orchids growing directly on tree bark for the first time.

Visitors could join in on traditional bamboo-clapping and circle dances. Because many ethnic minorities in China share cultural roots, you’ll see variations of these dances across the Southwest.

We took the buggy back to Golden Lake for the peacock flight.

The event began with a lengthy over-water dance performance featuring themes like the Peacock Dance and the Dai King’s parade.

However, watching a massive flock of peacocks swoop down from the hills toward the stands was undeniably breathtaking.

Animal flight falls into three categories: powered flight, soaring, and gliding. Birds, bats, and insects use powered flight to actively overcome their weight. Eagles and albatrosses soar, utilizing thermal updrafts to stay aloft without flapping. Gliding is basically a controlled fall over a distance—which is what peacocks do. They can glide down from high places, but they have to walk back up.

That said, they can easily clear this lake, which makes them far superior to chickens.

Afterward, there was a paid feeding session. My daughter had a blast. The peacocks’ cyan and blue plumage looked spectacular in the warm sunset light. Peacocks and elephants are undoubtedly the twin animal superstars of Banna.

In hindsight, our itinerary here was flawed. I hadn’t checked the show schedules closely. The performances are highly overlapping; if you catch one, you automatically miss the others. This poor scheduling wasted over an hour and a half of our time just waiting around.

A smarter approach: catch a peacock flight right at the entrance, head straight to the rainforest (join the water splashing if interested), hit Aini Village, and then leave.

Gaozhuang and the Night Market

We grabbed a taxi to Gaozhuang and visited Wat Pha Sorn Kaew (the Grand Golden Stupa) after dinner.

Completed in 2013, it’s a completely modern temple that gets a facelift every year.

Free from historical constraints, the architects heavily integrated modern technology. The interior feels more like a luxury hotel than a traditional Theravada temple.

The extensive use of blue genuinely creates a serene, “pure land” atmosphere.

Being a modern structure, the lighting was clearly designed from the ground up. It looks best at night, so coming after dark was a huge win.

(A gallery of stunning night shots follows)

The stupa marks the highest point in central Gaozhuang, offering a bustling aerial view of the Starlight Night Market.

The periphery of Gaozhuang is lined with uniquely designed, towering hotels that frequently appear in Banna’s tourism ads.

Day 3: Ancient Village & Buddhist Temples

Mandiu Ancient Village

I specifically mapped out this niche destination. It’s a traditional Dai village that rarely makes it onto standard tour routes, offering a glimpse into more authentic local life.

We arrived just before the local morning market closed.

We lingered at a fruit stall, essentially turning it into an all-you-can-eat buffet of egg fruit, milk fruit, yellow dragon fruit, sugar apples, and tamarind.

The village has an old well. The pavilion above it is clearly new, but it captures the right aesthetic.

Despite being an “ancient” village, it’s not isolated in the deep woods. Locals embrace modern life; many homes are being converted into restaurants and guesthouses.

We caught a slice of local life: an elder sitting in the distance, playing a bamboo flute-like instrument.

Walking further uphill brought us to the ancient temple at the peak.

The exterior walls featured fascinating murals. Unlike typical Chinese Buddhist art, the style oddly evoked medieval European religious paintings.

Inside, there was a small blackboard, likely used for teaching Dai or Mandarin.

The Dai script is full of loops and hooks, distinctly different from Thai. Despite sharing cultural roots, the two languages diverged long ago and are mutually unintelligible today.

Outside stood a Bodhi tree. In Buddhism, it represents a portal to another realm, and its form here genuinely imparted a sense of inner peace.

Nearby was a small rubber plantation. My daughter always asks how things are made, so it was great to show her exactly where tires and pacifiers come from.

The village is compact and quiet, largely free of tourists, allowing us to soak in the tranquility.

Prajna Stupa

This is the largest silver-white stupa in Jinghong.

It’s just a stupa, not a temple, so there’s no interior to explore.

Smaller standalone statues surround it.

You simply walk the perimeter. It’s a bit out of the way, but since we had a chartered car, it was an easy detour.

Manting Park

Manting Park is a major urban hotspot. It encompasses the former Dai King’s palace, royal gardens, and an elephant education center.

Its true draw, however, is travel photography. Unlike active temples that enforce dress codes (no bare shoulders or knees), this park offers stunning Dai architecture with no wardrobe restrictions. The palace area was completely overrun by tourists dressed as “Dai maidens.”

The architecture we see today is a modern reconstruction. Personally, I think their obsession with gold outshines even the Ming and Qing emperors.

Artifacts are displayed outside the palace. As the “hometown of peacocks,” the bird’s motif is woven into every cultural facet.

Historically, this region was known as “Mengle” under the Dai kings. “Meng” means “place” in Dai, a prefix you’ll see everywhere on the map. “Le” simply refers to the Dai people.

Similarly, “Man” means “village,” as seen in Manzhang Village (“Zhang” meaning elephant). Dai grammar is interesting—the common noun comes first, and the distinguishing modifier follows.

Even the name “Xishuangbanna” translates to “Twelve Thousand Fields,” originating from a Ming Dynasty administrative tax division. It stuck.

Rushing to the elephant show, we passed a fig-like Ficus tree dropping fruit that looked exactly like figs inside.

The elephant conservation and education efforts here are commendable. (I’ll bundle the elephant facts into the Wild Elephant Valley section).

The presentations were entirely educational—focusing on feeding and health checks rather than unnatural, crowd-pleasing tricks.

At the end, the elephants splashed the audience in greeting.

We exited the elephant park and walked along the garden’s far bank, passing a small white stupa near the exit.

Wat Rajabhoj (Zongfosi)

Manting Park connects directly to Wat Rajabhoj.

Visiting during the day reveals layers of intricate details that are lost in the dark.

One gate in particular looked noticeably older than the rest.

I spotted a stone stele with unfamiliar characters—likely related to the life of the monk it memorializes.

In Dai culture, even dragons are depicted with elephant tusks and trunks.

Day 4: Wild Elephant Valley

This long, narrow park stretches from southeast to northwest. The southeast section houses the elephant enclosures and paid trekking. The middle section features tropical flora, fauna, and commercial areas. The vast northwest is a wild elephant habitat accessible by cable car and boardwalks.

Elephant Science & Rainforest Trekking

We booked the rainforest elephant trek and headed straight to the enclosures, catching another educational session while waiting.

Here, handlers inspected an elephant’s teeth. Elephants will only hold their mouths open like this for people they deeply trust.

Some fascinating facts we learned:

Elephants replace their teeth 5 times, maxing out at 6 sets. Wild elephants grind through them faster eating tough bamboo, usually dying around age 60 when the last set wears out. Captive elephants eat softer food and can live into their 80s.
Asian elephants have 5 front toes and 4 back toes; African savanna elephants have 4 front and 3 back.
Their digestive efficiency is terrible—only 40% of food is absorbed. During our trek, the elephant dropped fresh dung packed with undigested grass. Calves sometimes eat their mother’s dung to acquire essential digestive probiotics.
Asian elephants operate in matriarchal societies. Males leave the herd upon reaching adulthood.
The folding of an elephant’s ears indicates its age.
A trunk contains zero bones, only muscle. Its true dexterity comes from a small “finger” at the tip (Asian elephants have one, African elephants have two). This functions like a primate’s opposable thumb, allowing them to pick up objects as small as a soybean—a critical evolutionary trait for tool use.

The trek involved following an elephant through the rainforest, feeding it at a designated spot, snapping photos, and returning, all accompanied by expert commentary.

Afterward, we spotted a mother and calf on a side path.

Calves have to learn how to use their trunks; this one was playfully stepping on its own nose.

During the trek, tropical insects buzzed around us. A girl in our group screamed, thinking they were bees.

One landed on my hand. It was actually a hoverfly—a harmless, aphid-eating master of flight that mimics bees as a defense mechanism. Unlike bees, hoverflies can hover perfectly still and even fly backward.

Flora, Fauna & Folk Performances

We didn’t linger in the middle section.

We grabbed lunch and stumbled upon an ethnic performance featuring the Wa people’s intense hair-swinging dance.

On the way to the cable car, my daughter found a tiny snail in the orchid garden and happily carried it around.

Wild Elephant Habitat

A 30-minute cable car ride took us over several valleys to the summit.

From above, the rainforest looks like a chaotic, interconnected web of vines, making it hard to distinguish individual trees.

Compare that to this orderly bamboo forest I photographed in Anji, Zhejiang years ago. The competition here is far more subdued.

We scoured the water sources below for wild elephants.

Staff advised looking for heavy dung concentrations as indicators of frequent visits.

At the summit’s observation deck, my daughter and I geeked out over the extensive insect exhibits.

We spotted large red ants on nearby trees. I initially feared they were invasive, highly aggressive Red Imported Fire Ants, but they were actually native Weaver Ants, which build nests by folding leaves and are mostly defensive.

We didn’t see any wild elephants. The odds are notoriously low. You have to remember: we are just guests here. The elephants don’t exist to serve tourists. Our real job is to appreciate their environment and observe the incredible ecosystem in peace.

The boardwalk down featured brilliant exhibits on insect camouflage. We saw a “walking popcorn”—likely a planthopper nymph that secretes a massive waxy disguise to fool predators.

We somehow took a wrong turn and ended up exiting through the North Gate, passing a small theater playing adorable clips of local elephant sightings.

Day 5: Tropical Flowers Garden

A solid alternative to the further-out botanical gardens. It’s professionally zoned and culminates in a popular white sand beach. Our ticket included fish and deer feeding, plus a “miracle fruit” tasting.

The fish at the entrance were ravenous, practically climbing over each other out of the water for food.

Nearby was Torch Ginger, whose massive “petals” are actually bracts protecting tiny real flowers inside.

We saw tall, slender betel nut trees, a common sight in Jinghong.

And avenues lined with Royal Palms. It functions beautifully as a local walking park.

We caught a rubber-tapping demonstration. Kids loved poking and pulling the elastic, half-dried rubber.

We also found Cassia fistula pods (Sausage Tree). The shell is rock hard, but smashing it open revealed neat, segmented compartments.

At the fruit orchard, we tried the “miracle fruit.”

First, we tasted painfully sour lemons and papayas. Then, we ate the berry. Afterward, the sourness vanished completely—the lemons tasted like honey! The effect lasts up to half an hour.

A sudden tropical downpour trapped us for 20 minutes. It was actually quite pleasant. The rainforest is unique in that it essentially generates its own rain via massive transpiration from the dense canopy, creating a localized water cycle.

Post-rain, we explored the orchard, spotting Jabuticaba and Oleaster.

A local showed me the trick to picking Oleaster: the large, deep red ones are sweet, while the smaller, yellowish ones are incredibly astringent.

Across the bridge, the sun hitting the coconut terraces was stunning.

We also saw dense clusters of Thai cherry blossoms (actually a legume, not a true cherry or Thailand’s national flower).

My daughter played at the artificial white sand beach, which had a great Southeast Asian resort vibe and transitioned into a lively party spot at night.

Local Life & Logistics

Geography & Hotels

Xishuangbanna functions about an hour behind Beijing time socially; you easily find yourself eating dinner at 8 PM. In late March, temperatures ranged comfortably from 20-35°C with very few mosquitos.

I mapped out four main hotel zones:

Gaozhuang: Built for tourists. Luxury, nightlife, and heavy traffic jams. Skip if you want authentic local flavor.
City Center: Where we stayed. The heart of local life, great logistics, and minimal traffic.
Sunac Resort: A self-contained bubble for families who don’t plan to explore much.
Outskirts: Great budget options with few attractions nearby.

Transportation & Food

If you aren’t staying in Gaozhuang, chartering a car is essential. It guarantees a ride back from remote spots like Wild Elephant Valley, and local drivers offer invaluable tips.

Our driver recommended an incredible hillside restaurant overlooking Gaozhuang.

Our family loves Southeast Asian flavors—mint, lemongrass, curry—so Banna was culinary heaven.

We devoured Dai rice noodles, Myanmar street food (crispy banana pancakes, meat wraps, pounded chicken feet), and customizable bean soup breakfasts.

We also tried a wild mushroom hotpot. It’s strictly timed for 35 minutes to ensure toxins are cooked out, and they even keep a sample of the broth on file just in case! It tasted exactly like a rich “Buddha Jumps Over the Wall” broth.

Other highlights included stir-fried wild flowers, passion fruit fish, and an incredibly refreshing mint beef dish.

We even tried a deep-fried bug platter (bamboo worms, bee pupae, and cicadas)—mostly they just tasted like cooking oil.

Honestly, even if you skip the tourist sites and just walk around eating, it’s worth the trip.

Observations

Dai architecture is ubiquitous—gold and silver accents with sharp, soaring eaves on everything from airports to flea markets and even temporary construction sheds.

You hear two dominant accents here: the local Dai accent ending sentences with “ga,” and the Northeastern Chinese accent from the massive influx of drivers and service workers.

The air was sometimes hazy, a result of cross-border slash-and-burn farming in Laos.

We loved browsing the local farm markets, discovering everything from edible wild flowers to massive tilapia and pressed chili cakes.

Expenses Breakdown

Finally, here’s our expense breakdown. The trip totaled roughly 13,000 RMB.

Traveling during the off-season is the best. Flights accounted for half the budget, and the rest was well-balanced.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

A 6-Day Off-the-Beaten-Path Road Trip in West Inner Mongolia and North Ningxia

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Sat, 11 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

My daughter fell in love with the desert after our trip to Dunhuang last month. Ever since we got back, she’s been begging to go to Crescent Spring again.

Say no more!

However, a desert trip during the National Day holiday means avoiding tourist hotspots like Shapotou and Xiangshawan. After some research, I landed on a less-traveled route: Bayannur – Alxa – Wuhai – Shizuishan – Yinchuan. The entire drive was a breeze, with green routes on the map app all the way. The attractions weren’t crowded either. We spent two days playing in the sand and two days sightseeing, discovering a desert and Gobi landscape different from Dunhuang’s. This “reverse tourism” trip was a huge success.

Most of this route winds through western Inner Mongolia, with a small portion dipping into northern Ningxia. It largely follows the Yellow River through the western section of the Hetao Plain.

Inner Mongolia has a vast east-west span with diverse landscapes. The east boasts the Hulunbuir Grasslands, but since it’s north of Harbin, October is already winter. The grass turns yellow and it’s bone-chillingly cold. The central region offers both grasslands and deserts; Ulanqab’s Ulan Hada volcano was a close contender for this trip. But for a true desert experience, you have to head west. The four westernmost prefecture-level cities—Alxa, Bayannur, Wuhai, and Ordos—are the premier choices for desert adventures.

Day 1: Arriving in Bayannur

We flew from Hangzhou to Bayannur with a transfer in Beijing.

The flight from Beijing to Bayannur offered views of complex mountain terrain, likely over the Shanxi area if I recall correctly.

In Mongolian, Bayannur means “rich” (Bayan) “lake” (Nuur). As you travel through Inner Mongolia, you’ll encounter “Bayan” and “Nuur” frequently in place names. Other common Mongolian terms in place names include Hot (city), Gol (river), and Ulan (red), appearing in various combinations.

Bayannur is often shortened to “Ba League,” where “League” (盟) is an administrative division equivalent to a prefecture-level city. On your travels, you’ll also see many “Banners” (旗), such as Alxa Left Banner and Urat Rear Banner, which correspond to county-level cities.

I picked up the rental car at the airport. It’s been years since my last car rental trip, and I was surprised to find the process is now fully automated. You inspect the vehicle and unlock it all through your phone.

On my first road trip in Inner Mongolia, the bilingual road signs immediately caught my eye. Nearly every Chinese character was accompanied by Mongolian script.

Inner Mongolia uses the traditional Uyghur-style Mongolian script, an older form that resembles braided hair.

This is completely different from the Phags-pa script promoted by Kublai Khan, which was influenced by the Tibetan alphabet but is no longer a living language.

Meanwhile, the nation of Mongolia, due to influence from the former Soviet Union, adopted the Cyrillic alphabet (essentially Russian letters) for writing Mongolian. In recent years, there has been a push to revive the traditional script, and now both are used officially.

I don’t speak Mongolian, but after observing the script for a few days, I noticed a pattern. The number of characters doesn’t always match the Chinese. For proper nouns like place names, the Mongolian is often one long, continuous “braid,” regardless of the number of Chinese characters. However, for modern concepts like “County Government,” the word counts often align. I suspect these modern terms were phonetically transliterated from Chinese, creating this discrepancy.

I’m not sure if my theory holds water; I’d love for any Mongolian-speaking friends to shed some light on this.

Back to the journey. We checked into our hotel in Ba League that night. I had been picturing a city the size of Dunhuang, but as we drove into the urban area, I realized they were in different leagues entirely.

Dunhuang is a remote county-level city under Jiuquan’s jurisdiction. While famous for tourism, its scale and population are no match for the prefecture-level city of Bayannur. Ba League is filled with residential buildings over 20 stories high, generally taller than those in Hangzhou, giving it a vibe similar to cities in Guangdong or Fujian. A quick search showed Ba League has a population of 1.5 million, compared to Hangzhou’s roughly 10 million. That’s a considerable size for a non-provincial capital in the north.

Day 2: Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake

The adventure officially began.

The Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake is a very niche, off-the-radar spot. When we arrived, you couldn’t tell it was a national holiday. The low ticket price is a dead giveaway that this place is more for locals than tourists.

Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake lies at the foot of the Yin Mountains, that faint range you see in the distance—yes, the same ones from the famous ancient poem.

The scenic area has two parts. You first arrive at a lake area with various water and sand activities, mostly involving boats and vehicles, plus the obligatory camel rides. For my daughter, having sand, water, and camels was a perfect day.

A long ride on a desert bus takes you into the desert proper. This is where the real magic happens, deep in the Ulan Buh Desert. It was an experience that even the more popular spots later in the trip couldn’t match.

This area has fewer activities: sandboarding, archery, and go-karts. From the top of the sandboarding dune, you get a stunning panoramic view of the Ulan Buh Desert. Sandboarding is unlimited—sleds are scattered at the bottom for you to grab and use as you please. The go-karts are also a blast; I highly recommend a couple of laps.

This spot is on the way from Ba League to the Western Dream Canyon, so logically, it’s best to visit it en route to avoid backtracking. However, it takes a long time to fully enjoy, making it difficult to fit into a single day with other destinations, and there aren’t many good hotels nearby. I’d suggest skipping it if you’re traveling without kids or with older children, as Wuhai Lake offers a similar and more comprehensive experience.

But this day was all about my daughter’s fun in the sand. Other sights could wait. We left just before sunset and headed back to Ba League.

The drive back was scenic, with lush vegetation, small villages, and vast fields of reeds and sunflowers.

The suburbs here in the Hetao Plain are vastly different from those around Dunhuang. Dunhuang is surrounded by arid land with almost no agriculture. Here, thanks to the Yellow River, the plain is one of China’s key agricultural hubs. The villages we passed were all business, with shops selling seeds and offering farm equipment repair. Unlike rural areas in southern China, you won’t find “agritainment” or leisure farms here; everything is dedicated to supporting agriculture.

Day 3: Yin Mountains Drive & Western Dream Canyon

This was our longest day on the road.

We set off from Ba League and drove towards the Yin Mountains again. From this day forward, the weather turned overcast, adding a stark, desolate beauty to the landscape, though it wasn’t ideal for photography.

We passed Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake once more. The hazy air finally cleared as we reached the foot of the Yin Mountains, revealing their true form.

We drove along the southern foothills, which are quite steep. The northern slope, by contrast, is much gentler, gradually merging into the Inner Mongolian Plateau.

The Yin Mountains are a significant climatic divide, but in a counter-intuitive way. One would assume the sunny southern slope, which also gets the summer monsoon winds, would be more verdant. However, in this arid region, it’s not about how much moisture you get, but how much you can keep. The southern slope’s intense sun exposure causes rapid evaporation, while the shaded, cooler northern slope retains more moisture, supporting lush alpine grasslands.

It’s fascinating to imagine a completely different world thriving just behind these barren-looking peaks.

We spent most of the day driving along the base of the mountains, the reddish-brown range weaving in and out of view. I put on a Xu Wei playlist I’d prepared, and the vibe was just incredible—an experience I’ll never forget.

Our first stop was Jilu Fort, said to be where the famous Han dynasty lady-in-waiting, Wang Zhaojun, passed through on her way to marry a nomadic chieftain. This photo shows the landscape along the highway nearby, where you can see the varied colors and compositions of the Yin Mountains’ rock and soil.

We didn’t actually make it into the site, though, due to a small mishap.

Jilu Fort also serves as the base camp for an off-road event. But the navigation app didn’t seem to care, routing me as if I were in a 4x4. Things got sketchy fast—the path was leading us into a creek bed, which our standard sedan couldn’t handle.

I had to turn off the navigation and try to find the way myself by following tire tracks. My reward? Getting stuck in a seemingly harmless patch of sand.

By the time we were rescued an hour later, it was too late to visit. We took a closer look at the mountains and got back on the road.

We passed A’gui Temple and the Yin Mountain Rock Paintings without stopping, heading straight for our main destination: the Western Dream Canyon.

On the other side of the road lay a desert at the foot of the Yin Mountains. Despite the low-lying shrubs, the colors were astonishingly rich: various shades of green, yellow, orange, pink, and burgundy, all set against the white of the salt flats. It was as vibrant as any autumn forest.

We reached the Western Dream Canyon, a stunning Yardang landform carved by wind erosion. We had now officially entered Alxa League.

This spot was more popular, with more tourists, but it still didn’t feel crowded.

The area has three routes. The central path is the core attraction, where you drive a short distance before walking or taking a shuttle for an up-close look at the canyon. The left and right routes are full self-driving loops with scenery that’s grander in scale but a bit more monotonous.

The left-hand route climbs to a high plateau offering a wide-open view of a wind farm deep within the mountains. From here, you can clearly see the different colored rock layers of the Yin Mountains; only the deep red sandstone has been sculpted into canyons.

After our visit, we had another two-hour-plus drive to the city of Wuhai. This stretch was also spectacular. Before hitting the expressway, we drove a long road that cut straight through the Ulan Buh Desert, flanked by endless yellow sand and occasional, massive solar farms. Many of these roads were unnamed on the map, and one was simply called the “Desert-Crossing Highway.”

Day 4: Wuhai Lake

Wuhai Lake was a highlight of our trip, and the city of Wuhai itself left a fantastic impression. It was another day dedicated to playing in the sand.

Looking at a map, it’s surprising to find a city as compact as Wuhai in the vast expanse of Inner Mongolia. But its modern streets, towering skyscrapers, and “Meng C” license plate (indicating its importance) suggest this city is something special.

A bit of research revealed its history as a classic resource-based city, built on coal. Wuhai was formed by merging two areas, Wuda and Haibowan, which originally belonged to different leagues. Due to the rich coal deposits, both areas were elevated to city status before being combined into one.

Wuhai’s centerpiece, Wuhai Lake, is a marvel in itself. It was created by diverting water from the Yellow River into the Ulan Buh Desert, forming a massive man-made lake. The Yellow River flows into the lake from the south and exits from the north to continue its journey.

The east bank of the lake is home to the city and a free public riverside park where the tour boat docks are located. The west bank is the Wuhai Lake Scenic Area, which features a unique “thousand-island lake” landscape in the desert, accessible only by boat.

Being a national holiday, we waited in line for the boat for at least 40 minutes. However, the city had thoughtfully arranged for a live band and a clown to entertain the queue, who even interacted with tourists, asking where they were from. It was a nice touch.

Listening in, I realized nearly everyone was from neighboring provinces—Ningxia, Shaanxi, Gansu, Xinjiang—with a few from the northeast. I overheard one family from Shanghai, which, along with our family from Zhejiang, made us the only two from the south. It seems Wuhai isn’t quite a top-tier national tourist destination yet.

Once we disembarked, we were in the main activity area. The crowd from the boat quickly dispersed across the vast space, and it suddenly felt spacious again.

The whole place felt like an upgraded version of Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake. With huge expanses of both water and sand, the variety of activities is immense, surpassing even Dunhuang’s Mingsha Mountain. It’s a paradise for adventure seekers, with dune buggies, desert off-roading, helicopters, and speedboats.

There wasn’t much for my young daughter to do, though. We took a sightseeing shuttle to the far side of the dunes to walk along the famous desert highway.

A perfectly straight road cutting through the desert, pointing like a sword towards the distant city skyline and mountains.

Climbing a dune beside the road, the view towards the city was a stunning tapestry of layers: sand dunes, the lake, reed marshes, city skyscrapers, and Gande’er Mountain, creating five distinct horizontal lines. The human-like figure on the mountain peak is a colossal statue of Genghis Khan.

The scenery here is highly dependent on the weather; overcast skies don’t do it justice. But on a clear day, it must be breathtaking—the online photos are no exaggeration. Spring or summer might be the best times to visit.

For a phone photographer like me who sticks to auto mode, sunny weather is crucial in Wuhai. On a clear day, the lake reflects a brilliant blue sky. The contrast between that saturated blue and the yellow sand makes phone cameras produce incredibly vibrant photos. On an overcast day without any strong colors, the photos turn out flat and gray.

Take the top-right photo, for example. The bright red of the lighthouse and the blue of the floating bridge gave the camera’s algorithm enough color information to better capture what I saw, even rendering the sky’s gradient with more subtlety.

After the desert highway, we took a monster-wheeled truck to the lakeside to ride an amphibious vehicle. It was a gentle ride, and I even let my daughter drive the whole way. She’s had plenty of practice with kiddy cars at amusement parks and handled it like a pro.

We parked the vehicle and took a bamboo raft back to the main activity area. By then, the park was closing, and a light rain had started to fall. We took a quick camel ride before catching the boat back.

Wuhai Lake is a gathering place for countless red-billed gulls. They followed our boat on both trips, flying so close you felt you could almost touch them.

Our original plan for the evening was to drive to Shizuishan in Ningxia, to be closer to Shahu Lake, our next day’s destination. But given that Shahu Lake is similar to Wuhai Lake and we had spent a full, satisfying day here, we made a last-minute decision to stay another night in Wuhai.

Day 5: Shitanjing Town & Yinchuan

Since we were skipping Shizuishan and Shahu Lake, we picked an alternative from our list: the small town of Shitanjing.

Inner Mongolia truly lives up to its reputation as a wind power giant. The resources are abundant. Leaving Wuhai, we were constantly flanked by wind turbines; this was the closest we’d ever been to them.

Shitanjing Town is tucked deep in the Helan Mountains, on the road between Shizuishan and Yinchuan, and falls within Shizuishan’s administrative area.

Shizuishan is a bit like Wuhai. The two cities are neighbors, share similar natural resources, and were both elevated from counties to cities because of the coal industry. If Wuhai is Inner Mongolia’s “coal pearl,” Shizuishan is Ningxia’s industrial engine.

Shitanjing was once a booming coal mining base. Now, with its high-quality coal resources depleted, it has been repurposed as a film set. Its well-preserved 1960s architecture tells the story of that industrious era.

The town is tiny, just two intersecting streets. But this was once the bustling market for coal workers who came from all corners of the country, a place that added a little spice to their lives.

There are still businesses operating today, but now they serve tourists. With fewer than five restaurants, a handful of souvenir stalls, a couple of general stores, and a small exhibition hall, that’s the extent of it. The rest of the town is made up of empty, old buildings. On the outskirts, a few modern structures suggest some local industry still exists.

A kilometer away stand the abandoned miners’ dormitories, their windows now just dark, glassy voids. In the distance, the Helan Mountains stretch on endlessly.

As a film town, it has been the backdrop for many realist dramas. The only one I’ve seen is “Minning Town.”

This is one of the show’s filming locations, though I couldn’t for the life of me recognize the scene. The dilapidated houses resemble those in Yongquan Village. If this was indeed the setting, then the desert reclamation efforts over the years have been incredibly successful—the village in the show was completely barren.

Leaving Shitanjing, we drove a long stretch through the Helan Mountains. The rock layers, twisted by tectonic forces, have left wavy patterns etched into the mountainsides.

The Helan Mountains have many of these black rock strata. We also saw several active coal mines along the way, leading me to believe these black layers are rich in coal.

Once we left the mountains, we hit the expressway to Yinchuan. The desert and Gobi landscapes vanished completely, replaced by lush, green plains on both sides of the road.

This journey had taken us through a symphony of landscapes: farmland, Gobi, desert, the Yellow River, mountains, and plains. The scenery was ever-changing.

We arrived in Yinchuan, checked into our hotel, and headed out for dinner. Afterwards, we stumbled upon a National Day drone show during our walk. We were watching from behind, so all the images were mirrored.

But seriously, it’s a public holiday. Why are you showing me this?

Our walk took us to Yinchuan’s Drum Tower and the central pedestrian street.

Seeing the Drum Tower brought back a wave of memories from my Beijing trip a few years ago. It was the same season, the same temperature, another post-dinner stroll, and the architecture was strikingly similar.

The pedestrian street was packed. We decided not to brave the crowds, grabbed a few bottles of fresh milk, and taxied back to the hotel.

Day 6: The Journey Home

We didn’t plan any activities for our last day. Since the hotel didn’t offer breakfast anyway, we all slept in, filled up the car, returned it, and caught our flight back to Hangzhou.

You might be wondering why we drove to Yinchuan for our flight after visiting Shitanjing. The simple reason is that as a provincial capital, Yinchuan has direct flights. Flying from Shizuishan or Wuhai would have meant a layover of at least 1.5 hours. I’d much rather spend that time driving than sitting in an airport.

Trip Tidbits

Transportation

This was our first multi-city road trip with our daughter, covering about 400-500 kilometers. Thankfully, careful planning ensured each leg of the drive was under two hours, which was manageable for her and not too exhausting for me. One thing’s for sure: next time, I’m renting a car with cruise control. Manually maintaining speed is a real workout for your foot.

The attractions on this route are generally quite far from urban centers. Aside from Wuhai Lake, which is right in the city, most places were at least an hour’s drive from the nearest town. And since kids have no concept of time, we rarely hit the road before 11 a.m. This meant lunch was usually packed snacks or a big hotel breakfast that doubled as brunch.

Weather

During the National Day holiday, daytime temperatures in Ba League were a pleasant 20-25°C, with nights around 10°C. However, starting from our arrival in Wuhai, the weather turned overcast and chilly, with daytime highs dropping to around 15°C. It even rained on our last day in Yinchuan.

Food & Accommodation

Now, let’s talk about food. I’d read in travel guides that you can’t go wrong with beef and mutton in Inner Mongolia and Ningxia, and my experience confirmed it. Every meal was delicious. Even the hand-pulled mutton at the Yinchuan airport was so good we ordered a second large plate.

Curiously, the streets of Ba League had more shops selling duck necks and feet than mutton restaurants. A chain called “Lonely Duck” was as common as convenience stores. When I asked a local about it, she said, “We cook mutton at home all the time, so why would we go out for it?”

This local lady from Ba League gave us two excellent recommendations:

Laoniutou: A tiny, hard-to-find shop near a fire station that sells beef jerky. She insisted we buy the fresh jerky sold by weight, not the pre-packaged kind, and mentioned she buys it herself regularly. We got half a kilogram, and the rich, beefy flavor was so addictive we snacked on it throughout the trip.
Laoyangguan: A mutton hotpot restaurant just a few hundred meters from Laoniutou. We went there the night we got back from Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake. We skipped the hotpot and ordered the hand-pulled mutton. The quality of the meat was superb; such a simple preparation was all it needed to be amazing.

I also have to recommend the Bolinhan Hotel in Wuhai. We booked it last minute when we decided to stay an extra night, and it turned out to be the best hotel of our entire trip, despite not being the most expensive. The bedding, amenities, and breakfast were all top-notch. The breakfast spread was fantastic, and the restaurant staff were incredibly warm and welcoming. It’s where I first tried savory Mongolian milk tea.

Next door to the hotel is Yanyun Casserole, a restaurant owned by the same hotel group. Trusting our “can’t-go-wrong-with-mutton” motto, we tried the radish & mutton casserole and the yellow tomato & beef casserole. Both were excellent.

We also kept encountering a local cold dish made primarily with bean sprouts. I found it delicious and refreshing and had it at several different restaurants.

All in all, our days consisted of a big breakfast and snacks for lunch, followed by a mutton feast for dinner every single night. I think I’ve had enough mutton to last me the next several months.

Trip Expenses

In the vast and sparsely populated northwest, transportation is the biggest cost. Airfare took the largest chunk, followed by the car rental.

Finally, two desert trips in just over a month have left me with plenty of memories to savor for a long time. It’s time for a change of pace for our next adventure. A beach island? A tropical rainforest? A winter wonderland?

Who knows? It’s the suspense that makes for a great surprise.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

Dunhuang Revisited - A 5-Day Family Trip

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 12 Sep 2025 00:28:00 +0000

It’s been four years since my last visit, and my daughter is finally old enough for a proper long-distance trip. The goal was to introduce her to the desert and Gobi, a landscape starkly different from the lush mountains and rivers of southern China.

Traveling with a kid raises the bar for transport and lodging. We narrowed it down to three well-established desert destinations: Mingsha Mountain in Dunhuang, Shapotou in Ningxia, and Xiangshawan in Inner Mongolia.

I’d been to Dunhuang before and written a detailed travelogue about it: Dunhuang Self-Drive 5 Days 4 Nights, covering all the main attractions.
Shapotou in Ningxia offers a unique combination of desert and the Yellow River.
Xiangshawan in Inner Mongolia is less scenic and more of a desert resort, but it’s commercially well-developed with plenty of attractions, including a water park.

After much discussion, my wife and I decided on a return trip to Dunhuang. Familiarity meant fewer potential pitfalls, plus we had a chance to visit the Yadan Geopark, which we missed last time. Having only been to the great Northwest once before, our decision to revisit the same city speaks volumes about its charm.

As of 2025, there’s a single direct flight from Hangzhou to Dunhuang, which departs in the afternoon and arrives in the evening. It was my daughter’s first flight, and she was thrilled.

Our itinerary dedicated the first and last days to travel, leaving us with three full days for exploring. We tackled the West Route to Yadan on day one, saving the next two for Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Lake.

West Thousand Buddha Caves

This was a stop along the West Route on our way to Yadan.

The famous Mogao Grottoes are also known as the Thousand Buddha Caves and are located east of Dunhuang. To the west lies a similar, smaller complex: the West Thousand Buddha Caves. For the average tourist who has already seen Mogao, a visit here isn’t essential, which explains the tranquility and lack of crowds.

We’ve visited Mogao before, and while our daughter is likely too young to appreciate the grottoes fully, giving her a quick glimpse was a good introduction. This place was perfect for that.

We joined a guided tour of four caves, where photography was forbidden. The statues here are more heavily damaged, but the murals are on par with those at Mogao. A few details were particularly striking and unique to this site:

The only tent-style grotto ceiling in all of Dunhuang, sloping down from a central beam in a nod to nomadic culture.
Partially restored statues from the Republic of China era, offering a rare look at their inner construction: a wooden core wrapped in straw and coated with mud.
A layered mural created by the Shazhou Uyghur regime. They whitewashed over original Sui and Tang dynasty frescoes to paint their own. Over the centuries, the whitewash has faded, allowing the older artwork to peek through, creating a fascinating overlap of two distinct artistic periods on a single wall.

Other features, like the predominantly male-like appearance of Sui dynasty Buddhas and the distinct representations of disciples Ananda and Kasyapa, are also seen at Mogao and serve as valuable resources for studying ancient history and fashion.

Yadan Geopark

Yadan is the final destination on the West Route, a road that literally ends there.

The first sight of Yadan is guaranteed to be awe-inspiring. Even for desert veterans, it’s an entirely new experience.

The perfectly flat terrain, the uniform horizontal textures of the yardang formations, and the vast, distant horizon combine to stretch one’s sense of space to the absolute limit. It’s a stunning display of order emerging from the chaos of nature.

The feeling is akin to gazing upon a sea of clouds from an airplane window.

The landscape’s formation is a story of natural order.

A diagram from Yadan’s official website clearly illustrates its geological evolution.

During the Middle Pleistocene (c. 300,000–100,000 years ago), this area was a freshwater lake that deposited perfectly level layers of soil. In the Late Pleistocene (c. 100,000–10,000 years ago), the land rose, the lake dried up, and the exposed layers were subjected to extreme temperature shifts. This, combined with persistent, powerful winds, began to carve the landscape much like water carves a canyon. The wind sculpted long, ridge-like yardangs, which were then further eroded into walls, towers, and pillars, destined to one day crumble back into dust.

The Yadan landscape is in a constant state of flux. What we see today is its geological prime. In tens of thousands of years, these magnificent structures will be gone.

Sightseeing Bus

The first leg of the tour is a bus ride with stops at designated viewpoints.

Our first stop was a police station built right into a yardang—a relic from the area’s initial development.

Many of the park’s yardangs have been named for things they resemble, the most striking being the “Peacock Standing Gracefully.” It’s remarkably lifelike. My daughter, however, was far more impressed by the swings at the rest stop, where we happily passed the time.

Of all the formations we saw, the most spectacular has to be the “West Sea Fleet,” a vast and rare collection of massive, ridge-like yardangs.

Here’s a GIF to give you a sense of the scale.

Vegetation is sparse here. Instead, black gravel acts as an anchor, securing the soil and protecting the landforms from wind erosion.

Electric Off-Road Vehicle

I’ve sketched a rough map; the red line is the bus route. It’s high-res enough to save. Based on my observations, there are at least three types of off-road vehicle experiences:

At the “Peacock” stop, there’s an “Off-Road Vehicle Station.” We skipped this one. Staff explained it follows the main road but allows you to stop anywhere. I suspect it takes the small blue loop on the map during the return journey.
At the start of the blue route, there’s another station where we rented a self-drive vehicle for ¥298. You can stop whenever you like but must stick to a designated gravel path. It’s a low-speed electric cart; the route takes about 20 minutes non-stop.
The electric cart route ends at the park’s prime sunset spot. Here, you’ll find more powerful off-roaders and boat-shaped “desert assault buses.” Staff said these could take you deep into the Gobi along the green route and back. I’m not sure how far in they go.

We took our time on the electric vehicle route, stopping frequently for photos and a Hami melon snack on the Gobi, turning a 20-minute ride into a nearly two-hour adventure.

A gallery to showcase the beauty of Yadan:

Former World of Warcraft players would surely appreciate my excitement, seeing landscapes reminiscent of The Barrens, Thousand Needles, and Shimmering Flats come to life. I felt an undeniable urge to just walk off into the deep Gobi alone.

While the park names these formations after familiar objects—some fitting, some a stretch—I believe that if you strip away human projections, its raw, natural form is a masterpiece of pure beauty.

Mingsha Mountain & Crescent Lake

We spent the next two days at Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Lake, an ideal desert playground for kids.

It’s rare to find a desert attraction so conveniently close to a city in China. It offers all the wildness and romance of the desert, yet it’s only a ten-minute taxi ride from our hotel. The ticket is valid for three consecutive days of unlimited entry, and it’s even free for residents of nearby cities like Jiuquan and Jiayuguan (check the official account for current policies).

The park has several gates, but the central one is the main entrance where taxis drop you off. The view upon entering is shown above, but it’s even more stunning at sunset. The interplay of light and shadow gives the dunes a dramatic, three-dimensional quality. I have more photos in my previous Dunhuang travelogue.

The park is split into two zones. The East Zone is geared towards adventure and “conquering nature,” with paid activities like hot air balloons, off-roading, and paragliding. The West Zone evokes the romance of the ancient Western Regions, featuring the camel camp, Crescent Lake, and sightseeing carts.

We had done the East Zone activities on our last trip, and they’re mostly unsuitable for young children, so we headed straight for the west. Under the midday sun, we found a shaded spot by Crescent Lake for our daughter to play freely in the sand.

This is one of my favorite spots in the park. Just out of frame to the lower left is Crescent Lake. The shape, layers, and curving ridge of this particular dune are perfect, projecting a sense of solitary power.

As the sun began to dip, we started exploring. My daughter absolutely loved the camels and rode one each day. Time was the only thing stopping her from going for another round.

We visited Crescent Lake and the Yuequan Pavilion on its shore. The small, lush courtyard feels wonderfully surreal set against the vast expanse of sand.

In the middle of the endless desert, this pristine little courtyard feels almost like a mirage.

From a vantage point above, the reflection of the towering dune in the water creates a stunning optical illusion, like a deep abyss.

For centuries, Crescent Lake has been sustained by natural groundwater. However, with the water table declining in recent years, the city of Dunhuang now artificially replenishes its groundwater to maintain the lake’s water level.

This small body of water supports a surprisingly vibrant ecosystem. We saw flocks of sparrows, a resident magpie, and even a stray cat.

As evening approached, the dunes began to take on a dramatic, three-dimensional texture. We decided to climb the nearest peak to watch night fall over the lake.

The dunes appear deceptively close. It’s only when you see the tiny silhouettes of people on the summit that you grasp their true scale.

We reached the top just in time to see the lights around Crescent Lake switch on, their glow complementing the fading sunset.

The nearby Crescent Lake Town is a new addition since our last visit. The park has added several new shows, which was a welcome surprise.

At 8:30 PM, the Starry Sky Concert kicked off in the town. There were no live singers, just a DJ playing a setlist over powerful speakers aimed at the dunes, with a host pumping up the energy. Tourists, glow sticks in hand, covered the entire hillside. The younger crowd belted out Power Station’s “Dang” with infectious enthusiasm during the mass singalong. I even saw a woman in her twenties, there by herself, spontaneously break into a street dance. Everyone was completely immersed, and the energy was contagious.

The concert was a surprise, as we had only intended to climb the dune for the view. On the other side, the rising moon illuminated a completely different world—one of perfect tranquility.

As the concert neared its end, a swarm of lights appeared from behind a distant dune. My first time seeing a drone show in person was here, in the middle of the desert.

The next day at the park was for more sand play and camel riding, but we had a “secret mission.” In the afternoon, we visited a photo studio outside the park where my wife and daughter got a “Feitian” (flying Apsara) makeover, transforming into an ethereal mother-daughter duo. These studios are everywhere and offer full photo packages, but we opted for just the costumes and makeup, with yours truly behind the lens.

We focused on portraits that day, so I didn’t take many landscape shots. After the photoshoot, we skipped the concert and headed back to the city for a celebratory dinner.

A Turbulent Return

On our last day, we had a flight back to Hangzhou. We chose a connecting flight through Lanzhou to avoid the early morning direct one. While the trip out was smooth, the return flights were uncomfortable. My daughter started feeling dizzy as we approached Lanzhou.

After a 30-minute rest in Lanzhou, we boarded the next plane. The descent into Hangzhou was turbulent, and my daughter succumbed to motion sickness.

To complicate matters, a thunderstorm was raging in Hangzhou. Our plane aborted its landing attempt at Xiaoshan Airport and had to divert to Wenzhou to wait for clearance. The Wenzhou airport was packed with other diverted flights, all queued up. After a long wait, the weather in Hangzhou finally cleared, and a 40-minute flight later, we landed.

By the time we got a taxi home, it was past 1 AM. We had spent over 10 hours on planes—as long as an international flight—leaving everyone drained. But my daughter’s motion sickness lingered. Halfway home, she got sick again all over the taxi, followed by several more episodes. We finally got home, cleaned up, and fell into bed after 2 AM.

She probably won’t want to get on a plane for a few years. But it was a test, and it was a clear sign that we’re not quite ready for long-haul international travel just yet.

Travel Notes

Visiting Dunhuang in early September is far more pleasant than in April, as you avoid the risk of sandstorms. Temperatures are about 10°C warmer, and a short-sleeved shirt with a light, long-sleeved sun-shirt is perfect for both day and night.

The West Route is a long haul. There are no public buses, and taxis won’t go that far, so your options are a tour, a chartered car, or self-driving. Yadan is a two-hour drive one-way from the city, and the basic park tour takes another two hours. If you go to Yadan, you’ll have time for at most one other stop on the route. It’s an incredible place for sunset, but with a young child’s bedtime and Dunhuang’s sunset being two hours later than Beijing time, we had to pass.

We chartered a car for the day and had a great chat with our local driver. I was surprised to learn that Dunhuang has hydropower; he used to work at one of the local stations. Despite the flat terrain, it plays a supporting role in Dunhuang’s energy mix.

The driver pointed out two common types of trees in the area: poplar and Lombardy poplar. The photo above was taken at the West Thousand Buddha Caves, so I’m not sure if these are the same. He explained that all the roadside trees are irrigated through underground pipes every 20 days or so. With maybe only five rainy days a year and rarely more than a drizzle, it’s a testament to the immense, unseen effort required to maintain greenery in a desert city.

Commercially, the Shazhou Night Market in downtown Dunhuang has grown exponentially in the last four years. What was once a single short food street is now a sprawling network of six or seven alleys filled with restaurants, souvenir shops, and photo studios.

Across from the market’s south gate, we stumbled upon a restaurant called “Chen Lao Ba Mutton Fen Tang.” We loved it so much we went twice, and our daughter ate heartily. The owner was incredibly passionate, coming over to explain the different cuts of lamb on our plate. Seeing us trim the fat off, he looked genuinely shocked and exclaimed, “But that’s the best part! What are you even eating?!”

An after-dinner stroll through the quiet local streets outside the market offered a novel and atmospheric experience, with their khaki-colored walls, warm yellow lamplight, and distinctly desert-like poplar trees.

A breakdown of our trip expenses:

After two trips, we feel we’ve now checked off all the major highlights of Dunhuang. Perhaps our next visit will be a stop on a grander Qinghai-Gansu loop tour—an adventure we’re already looking forward to.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 15 Sep 2023 17:32:00 +0000

Most people travel, but few plan meticulously. Accommodation, food, transport, tickets—it’s all interconnected. One change can throw everything off. This complexity discourages many from detailed planning. They book flights and hotels and wing it. But beneath the apparent spontaneity lies potential chaos.

As summer turns to fall, the weather’s perfect for travel. I’ve been deep in trip planning lately, which got me thinking: how do you systematically plan a trip? With a solid framework, travel planning becomes straightforward, turning a jumbled mess into a smooth process. Follow this, and you can create travel plans quickly and easily, without losing flexibility.

Breaking Down the Elements

Before I share the method, let’s start with the underlying logic.

Travel aims for enjoyment, but it’s still physical. Real-world needs apply. Coordinating these needs is the reason for a travel plan. The key to simplifying it all is almost too simple:

You can only be in one place at a time.

We’re bound by 3D space and 1D time. Your body must be somewhere, and you can’t be in two places at once. Time, too, marches on.

Therefore, planning a trip boils down to filling each moment with a location.

Obvious so far, but here’s where it gets useful:

Travel elements break down into time, location, and items. Time and location define your environment. You are the trip’s subject. You know you; what needs planning are your extensions (your stuff) – items.

We further break down time and location, laying out all the trip’s elements. I’ve separated “potential destinations” and “confirmed destinations” because sometimes destinations are limited by other factors, requiring choices. It’s not crucial, but it helps.

With the elements atomized, the question is: which ones do you decide first, and in what order?

Reassembling the Elements

The breakdown is fixed, but reassembly needs your input. What’s the trip’s purpose? To see something you’ve dreamed of, even if it’s a hassle? Or to simply relax and enjoy? Even with the same goal, focusing on efficiency versus total enjoyment leads to different travel styles.

I’ve identified two planning models based on my experience. I use different approaches depending on the situation.

A. Sightseeing Mode

Sightseeing mode prioritizes efficiency.

Efficiency = Total Happiness / Total Time = (Happiness at Destinations + Happiness in Transit) / Total Time

Here, destinations provide the most happiness per unit of time, while transit provides less, or even negative, happiness. If you enjoy transit equally, you likely prefer the other mode, discussed later.

“Destinations” aren’t just tourist spots. In Sightseeing Mode, an enjoyable journey, like a scenic coastal drive, is a destination, not transit. Typical “transit” is things like city subways or waiting in lines.

Minimizing transit time boosts efficiency. If teleportation existed, you’d skip the commute. High efficiency means the trip was “worth it.”

Planning order for Sightseeing Mode:

Consider getting to and from the destination city, in-city transport, and places worth seeing.
Decide how many days and nights to spend. This is limited by transport (train/flight schedules) and your vacation time.
Confirm destinations. Based on trip duration, decide if you can visit all potential destinations or need to prioritize. City transport is a constraint; some spots might be inaccessible or too time-consuming without suitable transport.
Book hotels and create a packing list. Research to find a conveniently located hotel. Trip length is crucial for hotel booking. Your packing list depends on destinations; hiking gear differs from beach gear.
Find restaurants or commercial areas. This can be skipped in big cities or if you’re not a foodie. It’s necessary when traveling with my toddler, who needs regular, specific meals. If there are busy areas near destinations (for lunch/dinner) or the hotel (for dinner), focus on those. If it’s remote, you need a concrete dining plan, like takeout or packed food.
Plan the daily itinerary: It’s almost done by now. This step is about adjusting the order, balancing morning and afternoon time, and ensuring a good overall pace.

There’s a Sightseeing Mode variation. Unlike the “9-to-5” version, those with ample time needn’t choose destinations due to time. They can visit everywhere, simply extending the trip. Other aspects are similar.

B. Vacation Mode

Vacation Mode prioritizes total enjoyment.

Total Happiness = Efficiency x Total Time

Here, you first maximize efficiency, minimizing unpleasantness. With constant happiness ensured, only time affects the total. If 3 days aren’t enough, try 5; if 5 aren’t enough, try 7, until you’re content.

Planning order for Vacation Mode:

Consider getting to and from the destination city, in-city transport, and how many days and nights to spend.
Book hotels. Find a hotel with great views or amenities, considering distance to transport hubs and in-city transport options. Public transport versus driving greatly impacts hotel choice.
List potential destinations and research local restaurants. Which easily accessible destinations are worth visiting? Any local delicacies you’re keen on? Research those.
Create a packing list. Items have no constraints, so consider this anytime.
Planning is essentially done. Just await departure.
For a more detailed plan, select destinations and combine them with preferred restaurants and areas to create a daily itinerary.

Differences Between the Two Modes

The modes seem distinct, but there are blurry areas. You might not be a “special forces” traveler or someone who just enjoys sleeping in a new city. Where do you fit?

The modes can produce identical itineraries, but the source of happiness differs:

Sightseeing Mode’s happiness comes from the physical world: locations. The more you explore, the greater the happiness. This mode accepts some transit unhappiness, compensated by destination happiness.
Vacation Mode’s happiness comes from the mental world: time. As fatigue and boredom build, marginal happiness decreases. To maintain happiness, this mode allows changing activities and destinations anytime.

Here’s an analogy: Imagine a day at Disneyland. How would the modes differ? It’s not hard.

If a trip offers great destination happiness (for Sightseeing Mode) and a well-paced itinerary keeps Vacation Mode constantly happy, both are satisfied, but their reasons differ.

If there are two attractions, one hard to reach but immensely joyful, the other easily accessible but mildly amusing, Sightseeing Mode chooses the former, Vacation Mode the latter.

Where does your happiness mainly come from? Or, where do you want it to come from on this trip?

These modes aren’t definitive. Everyone has preferences. The key is to lay out the elements, connect them, and draw your own travel planning flowchart. Use it repeatedly. You’ll find travel planning isn’t so hard. As you get better, you’ll travel more, increasing your overall happiness.

Putting It into Practice

Theory’s fine, but let’s apply this framework to a real trip, using the more involved Sightseeing Mode.

In April 2021, during the Qingming Festival, I road-tripped to Dunhuang with family and friends—four of us in total. I handled the itinerary, and everyone enjoyed it. Even two years later, we all consider it our most memorable trip. Here’s the travelogue: https://victor42.eth.limo/post-en/3596/

The travelogue shows the result. I’m sharing the planning process, which used the “9-to-5” Sightseeing Mode.

Prerequisites and Potential Destinations

Flying round-trip from Hangzhou to Dunhuang, with a 3-day Qingming holiday and 2 days of annual leave, flying was the only viable intercity option. So, I booked flights immediately.

The best I could manage, even using all 5 days, was a 5-day, 4-night itinerary. We’d leave early on day one, have half a day for sightseeing; sleep in on day five, and head straight back, arriving home at night. That left 3.5 days for actual exploration.

Dunhuang, a desert city, is susceptible to sandstorms, and many attractions are outside the city. Renting a car locally made sense, so I arranged that too.

For potential destinations, I quickly researched online and listed these:

Recommended Destinations

Yumen Pass
Yangguan Pass
Mogao Caves
Encore Dunhuang performance
Singing Sands Mountain and Crescent Spring
Yardang National Geopark (temporarily closed)

Other Destinations

Leiyin Temple (near Singing Sands Mountain and Crescent Spring)
Dunhuang Museum
White Horse Pagoda (near Dunhuang Museum)
Western Thousand Buddha Caves
Dunhuang Film City
Dunhuang Grand Show (near Singing Sands Mountain and Crescent Spring)
Silk Road Flower Rain performance
Yulin Caves
Suoyang City

Finalizing the Destinations

I checked the map and grouped potential destinations geographically. A useful tip: search for each on a map app and add it to your favorites. Zooming out shows a cluster of stars, clarifying how to group them. Just select the ones you want.

East Line

Mogao Caves
Encore Dunhuang performance

West Line

Yumen Pass
Yangguan Pass
Western Thousand Buddha Caves
Yardang National Geopark (temporarily closed)
Dunhuang Film City

South of the City

Singing Sands Mountain and Crescent Spring
Leiyin Temple
Dunhuang Grand Show

Guazhou Line

Yulin Caves
Suoyang City

Downtown

Dunhuang Museum
White Horse Pagoda
Shazhou Ancient City
Silk Road Flower Rain performance

Grouping helps significantly with the daily itinerary, essentially one group per day. But I held off on the itinerary, needing a crucial element: the hotel.

Hotel and Detailed Itinerary

Hotel

Hotels should be central, near attractions, downtown, or transport hubs. Within that area, I weighed facilities and value. I chose a hotel in downtown Dunhuang, close to the night market and shopping, and was very pleased.

Tip for finding hotels: use the map mode in the Ctrip app. It displays Dunhuang hotels, showing the cheapest room’s price.

The filter function is key. Hotel details are standardized, so filtering quickly narrows options. For instance, with kids, I’d select a non-smoking room. Applying the filter removes many irrelevant hotels from the map.

If you’re using a computer, it’s even easier. I’ve developed a browser extension that lets you compare multiple Ctrip hotels side-by-side. It gathers ratings, negative review rates, room types, floor area, window details, bed sizes, and smoking policies into a single Excel sheet, allowing you to compare everything at a glance and make your choice quickly.

Feel free to use it: https://github.com/greenzorro/hotel-comparer

The hotel was now booked.

Restaurants

I scouted restaurants near attractions or the hotel. That’s how I handled it for Dunhuang. I didn’t have kids then, and adults are flexible with food, so I skipped a detailed food guide.

Like finding hotels, use the map search in the Dianping app. It shows Dunhuang’s food scene. Locate yourself, zoom in, and you’ll see nearby restaurants. Note: use the app; the mini-program lacks this. Meituan’s app works, but it’s slower.

Without a food guide, distance is crucial when finding food on the go. Map mode is very efficient.

Daily Itinerary

The daily itinerary simply combines the hotel, attractions, and restaurants/shops, considering time. No new work here. The key is estimating visit durations to avoid over- or under-scheduling.

Note: for popular attractions, like the Forbidden City, book tickets in advance.

Packing List

The packing list is separate, not tied to time or place. Once attractions are set, consider it anytime. I usually do it last.

I love Excel. Anything data-related, I use Excel, including travel items. It’s overkill for solo adult travel, but forgetting one baby item can be disastrous, so careful checking is essential.

Why 4 columns? It’s a thorough checking system, from left to right:

To Bring: This spreadsheet is reusable, accumulating over time. It includes items for all seasons and activities. Before each trip, I select from this column.
To Pack: Items are either carry-on or checked. Leaving carry-ons at the hotel defeats their purpose (like diapers – I’ve learned the hard way). Use Excel’s filter on the first column, select items for this trip, then decide which are carry-on, checking them in the second column.
Packed: Start packing, prioritizing carry-ons. Refer to the second column and check this one for packed items.
Brought: With carry-ons mostly packed, filter the third column, showing unpacked items. These are either unpacked carry-ons or checked luggage items. Continue packing. You can skip checking columns 3 and 4 if you’re organized.

Packing List: https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/R7EAwcYX1ikNlukteCdcVhdinhb?from=from_copylink

Travel Plan Document

By following this workflow, your trip is planned out clearly—it’s not rocket science. However, up to this point, it’s all just mental planning. You need a proper “container” for this web of information, both for your own review and to share with your travel companions.

I have a travel itinerary template I’ve used for years. It’s essentially a series of fill-in-the-blank questions; once you plug the information into the right spots, your guidebook is complete.

The document is divided into several modules: Itinerary, Packing List, Tips, Candidate Attractions, and References. The first three are for you and your group; the last two are backend notes for your own use while planning. There’s a divider between them—once the plan is finalized, just delete the bottom half and share it with your group.

Time: Month/Day - Month/Day (X Days, X Nights)
Inter-city Transport: Mode of transport. Local Transport: Mode of transport. Accommodation: Hotel name & nearby attractions/districts (if any).

First, the itinerary starts with an overview—this is the core foundation of the entire plan. The critical constraints—inter-city transport, local transport, trip duration, and accommodation—are all condensed into this short paragraph. Once these are nailed down, you won’t drop the ball on the basics, even if you haven’t planned the specific daily sightseeing yet.

For multi-city trips, I expand it like this for better visibility:

Time: Month/Day - Month/Day (X Days, X Nights)
Inter-city Transport: Day X fly to [Place], Day X fly to [Place]… Local Transport: [City] Metro + Taxi, [City] Walk… Accommodation:

Dates (X Nights) at [City, Hotel]. Notes on location/attractions.

Dates (X Nights) at [City, Hotel]. Notes on location/attractions.

Dates (X Nights) at [City, Hotel]. Notes on location/attractions.

However, expanding it this way requires extreme caution because the dates are all interconnected. If you miss an edit and book tickets or hotels based on a typo, it’s a recipe for disaster. The cost of changing flights or overseas hotel bookings can be painful.

For tasks like this, the human brain isn’t as reliable as code. So, I built a spreadsheet tool. You fill in the table, and it auto-generates the itinerary overview, ensuring zero errors. You can simply copy it from the spreadsheet and paste it into your document:

Inter-city Transport: 17th fly to Bangkok, 19th fly to Phuket, 22nd ferry to Phi Phi Don, 27th ferry to Phuket, 28th fly to Hong Kong, 31st fly home. Local Transport: Bangkok Metro + Taxi, Phuket Bus + Taxi, Phi Phi Walk, Hong Kong Walk + Metro. Accommodation:

17-19 (2 Nights) at Bangkok Asia Hotel. Near Siam Center, convenient location.

19-22 (3 Nights) at Phuket Sugar Marina Hotel -POP- Kata Beach. Near Kata Beach.

22-27 (5 Nights) at Phi Phi The Cliff at PP. Tonsai Pier area, convenient but quiet.

27-28 (1 Night) at Phuket Nai Yang Beach Resort & Spa. Near Nai Yang Beach, close to airport.

28-31 (3 Nights) at Hong Kong Metropark Hotel Mongkok. Mongkok area, bustling commercial district.

Transport & Accommodation Planning Tool: https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/IbkAwYIi6ieFcbkuIjuckpJlnQb?from=from_copylink

Back to the template. I’ve already covered the Packing List. Tips and References are sections I haven’t mentioned yet. These are basically notes—valuable info recorded for the group (Tips) and for your own research (References).

I’ve shared the template as an online doc; log in to save or download it. There’s a blank version and a filled-out “Dunhuang Road Trip” version. Comparing them shows exactly how I use the system. If you’re planning a trip to Dunhuang this spring, you can practically use it as is.

Travel Template: https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/T5DdwSjGsiU61CkUYVBcPpgunCc?from=from_copylink Dunhuang Road Trip Guide: https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/SN3cw8YF8iqbl1k3rR5cc10Rn9b?from=from_copylink

Planning Flights for Complex Trips

Ever get stuck right at the beginning trying to sort out travel between multiple cities? It can be a real headache. This is especially true when you’re trying to find the best deals for a complex itinerary during peak holidays, like National Day or Spring Festival, when flight prices go wild.

I built a spreadsheet tool to tackle this. Here’s how it works:

Dates: List your potential travel dates.
Fares: Look up and record the lowest fare for each day.
Fill: Just fill in the white columns; the gray ones will auto-calculate.
Indicators: Yellow marks the cheapest fare for a leg. Red or green shows a big price swing from the day before (defaults to 15%, but you can change it).
Confirm: When you’ve picked a flight, check its box to keep track.

Step 2 takes the most time, but AI can speed it up. AI browsers like Comet and Atlas or AI agents like Manus and Minimax can handle it, but your standard chatbot can’t. You’ll need some decent prompting skills, or you might get incomplete or no data at all. Honestly, since this is something you only do a couple of times a year, doing it manually is still the most reliable approach.

The sheet supports up to 8 flight legs, plenty even for a multi-city European tour. Then again, if you have enough time for a month-long, multi-city journey, you probably aren’t too worried about penny-pinching on flights, haha.

Flight Planning Sheet: https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/SIbUw5N3ci79d2kySNqcItRHnYd?from=from_copylink

Travel Expense Tracking

Finally, expense tracking. Skip this if you don’t track expenses.

I’m sharing an Excel spreadsheet that calculates expense percentages and per capita costs, useful for splitting bills with friends.

Travel Expense Tracking Template: https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/Q76ywiamqiBKeTkTxhrcBW4MnVd?from=from_copylink

Zhejiang Museum of Natural History Anji

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Wed, 27 Jul 2022 10:48:00 +0000

I recently visited the Zhejiang Museum of Natural History’s Anji branch, a place I’d been meaning to check out. It’s located in Anji County, Huzhou, about an hour’s drive from Hangzhou.

I opted for the afternoon session (12 PM - 4 PM), which is longer. But for a museum enthusiast like myself, time flies. Four hours for six halls means prioritizing – you can’t see everything in detail.

The recommended order is: Geology, Behring, Ocean, Natural Art, Dinosaur, and Ecology. Being my first visit, I moved quickly, took fewer pictures, and focused on the exhibit texts.

Geology Hall

The introduction is striking: a spherical screen displays Earth’s 4.6-billion-year evolution. Surrounding it, small exhibits showcase rocks and meteorites – granite, metamorphic, sedimentary, even meteorites from Mars and the Moon.

If you’re familiar with Earth’s history, the intro’s brilliance is clear: 4.6 billion years of dramatic change, with life somehow emerging in a volatile environment. From there, the epic of life’s evolution unfolds in the following six halls.

The introductory video is surprisingly detailed, covering major geological events.

Snowball Earth: A massive global ice age. Expanding glaciers reflected sunlight, reducing heat absorption and creating a feedback loop that froze the entire planet. The photo depicts volcanic activity, caused by crustal movement, which reversed this process.

Snowball Earth

Pangaea: The second instance of all continental plates merging into a supercontinent. Pangaea’s center, far from oceans, became vast Gobi deserts – the video is quite realistic. Pangaea eventually broke apart, forming today’s continents and oceans.

Pangaea

East African Rift Valley: Crustal movement is separating the African and Arabian plates, creating a rift valley spanning East Africa. Notably, our human ancestors would eventually emerge from this region.

East African Rift Valley

The Geology Hall’s central theme is the geological time scale. Everything pre-Cambrian is grouped as Precambrian. Subsequent periods each have displays of equal size and format, showcasing typical life and environments.

I suggest initially skipping the displays on the opposite side of the corridor. Focus on the main displays along one side – the hall’s core. Familiarity with evolution and taxonomy enhances the “epic of life” experience: primordial life in the oceans, the Cambrian explosion, Devonian plants conquering land, amphibians emerging, Mesozoic reptile dominance, and mammal takeover after the dinosaur extinction. It’s a whirlwind tour of life’s history.

Cambrian Display

Don’t overlook the small globes beside the displays. Each shows the continental distribution of that period. Unfortunately, they’re positioned too low; even for children, the ocean dominates the view. You need to crouch to see the landmasses, discouraging interaction.

Cretaceous Display

The displays are exceptionally well-crafted. Plant specialists might spot small yellow flowers from the Cretaceous onward, aligning with the prevailing theory of angiosperm (flowering plant) origin in that period.

Cretaceous Display - Small Yellow Flowers

After experiencing the main timeline, return to the hall entrance and explore the other side. As the Zhejiang Museum of Natural History, the geology section highlights Zhejiang’s history and contributions.

Zhejiang formed from the merging of two landmasses. Check your map app’s terrain view to see the rift valley in western Zhejiang’s hills.

Rodinia: A supercontinent, like Pangaea, where landmasses were joined. Rodinia existed much earlier than Pangaea.

Rodinia

Evidence of Glacial Movement

Remember Snowball Earth? The discovery of tillite was key to proving such extensive glaciation. The principle resembles these scratches, but is more definitive.

Tillite forms from slow-moving glaciers. The immense force scrapes up various rocks, incorporates them into the glacier, and crushes them. Disparate rocks become tightly compacted. When unearthed, geologists recognize glacial action as the only explanation. Tillite’s global distribution proves past global glaciation.

Golden Spike

The display’s explanation is concise. Let me expand on Golden Spikes. They’re essentially standards for demarcating geological ages.

Earth’s 4.6-billion-year history requires division into periods, similar to China’s dynasties. Given the vast timescale, multiple divisions are needed. The Qing Dynasty is subdivided into Qianlong, Jiaqing, and Daoguang. Geology uses six levels, from largest to smallest. The most familiar are:

Archean
Proterozoic
Paleozoic (The names of first four periods come from British locations where corresponding strata were initially discovered)
- Cambrian (Explosion of life, appearance of mollusks and arthropods)
- Ordovician (Appearance of chordates)
- Silurian
- Devonian (Fish dominated)
- Carboniferous (Plants with lignin grew tall. Bacteria and fungi to decompose it hadn’t evolved, so buried wood formed thick coal seams)
- Permian
Mesozoic
- Triassic (Dinosaurs emerged)
- Jurassic
- Cretaceous (Dinosaur extinction)
Cenozoic (Mammals rose)
- Tertiary
- Quaternary

So, what are Golden Spikes? They’re based on fossils of specific, representative species. These species, distinct from predecessors and reflecting major environmental shifts, mark the boundaries between geological ages. Organisms are markers; they divide geological time.

The hall features numerous interactive displays. If interested, you can explore them for a deeper understanding of the hall’s theme.

Coal Formation

A somewhat overlooked installation on the second floor provides a fitting conclusion to the Geology Hall, echoing the opening’s depiction of Earth’s evolution. Beneath us lies the profound history of Earth and life. On a geological timescale, what mark will our modern civilization leave? What should it leave?

Behring Hall

This hall is named after Kenneth Behring, a businessman and philanthropist who donated numerous wildlife specimens, primarily displayed here. It’s essentially the terrestrial animal hall.

1st Floor: Terrestrial Animals and Environments

The first floor focuses on terrestrial animals from different continents, showcasing representative species from Africa, North America, and Australia. Africa has the largest exhibit, representing the hall’s biodiversity centerpiece.

This scene is vast; I only captured a portion. The specimens’ lifelike poses and movements evoke a Serengeti National Park experience.

Perhaps due to my familiarity with nature documentaries, the animal specimens didn’t hold my full attention. I took fewer general photos, focusing instead on the text explanations and the animals’ survival strategies.

How different African savanna herbivores utilize resources, partitioning niches to avoid competition and maximize resource use.

A must-take photo: African large animal group portrait.

Warthog Specimen

The specimens’ postures have a scientific basis. A warthog raising its tail signals to predators: “I’m healthy and strong; you likely can’t catch me. Consider another target.”

A pertinent question, aiding understanding of natural selection and the predator-prey arms race.

While less diverse in large animals than Africa, North America and Australia are key to this hall’s species evolution exhibits.

Why are species on different continents so distinct?

Mammalian evolution has three stages:

Prototheria: The most primitive. Like the platypus, they lay eggs and secrete milk through their skin – unlike most mammals, but they’re classified as such.
Metatheria: Marsupials like kangaroos, Tasmanian wolves, and koalas. Born underdeveloped, they require a pouch to complete development.
Eutheria: Placental mammals like mice, antelopes, and gorillas. A newborn antelope can stand and run soon after birth, fully developed at birth.

Placental reproduction clearly offers better offspring protection. Combined with other advantages, it led to placental mammals outcompeting the other two groups globally. However, Australia’s early isolation by oceans, before placental mammals appeared, allowed marsupials to dominate, while they were replaced elsewhere.

South America also retains many marsupials. The Bering Strait land bridge provided a narrow passage from Eurasia and Africa to North America. The Isthmus of Panama later reconnected, allowing placental mammals into South America. Their late arrival explains the survival of South American marsupials, which even spread back into North America.

Cats, highly efficient predators, occupy the top of the food chain in most terrestrial environments. The museum dedicates a significant section to them.

Cat Family Tree

A bit of a feline tongue-twister: Lions are Pantherinae; cheetahs are Felinae. Cougars are Felinae; jaguars are Pantherinae.

Cat Family’s First Great Migration

In short: Cats originated in Southeast Asia. Their unique lifestyle led to remarkable dispersal. Adult cats must leave their families and establish new territories. Their large territories necessitate long migrations, leading to rapid occupation of available land.

Cat Family’s Second Great Migration

Both migrations resulted from falling sea levels, creating new land bridges. Comparing this with the cat family tree, small cats initially spread to all continents (except Australia), followed by large cats from Eurasia and North America expanding into Africa and South America.

2nd Floor: Animal Evolution

The second floor highlights species evolution, focusing on adaptations to environments. For instance, the entrance introduces convergent evolution, where different species evolve similar features for the same function. Wings are a prime example: birds, bats (mammals), and insects have evolved different wing types, all achieving flight.

Sideways or forward-facing eyes provide different advantages.

Pupil shape, like eye position, relates to vigilance or hunting.

Advantages of different pupil shapes (zoom may be needed).

The bird section is a highlight, visually comparing bird beaks to human tools to illustrate diet and feeding. I found the pelican amusing – a living net. However, I question the flamingo’s depiction, as they don’t primarily eat fish. This might be an inaccuracy.

Bird Beak Shapes and Functions

The next display continues, adding bird feet. You can deduce a bird’s diet and habitat from the beak and foot combination. Birds are categorized into seven groups based on feet:

Wading birds: Shallow-water dwellers, non-swimmers, relying on water for food. Long necks and legs. Small webs between toes aid traction on mudflats. Example: Cranes.
Waterfowl: Aquatic birds, capable of floating and swimming, some diving. Fully webbed toes act as paddles. Example: Ducks.
Landfowl: Ground-dwelling, flight is secondary. Leg strength supports walking. Example: Chickens.
Songbirds: Branch dwellers, small, known for singing and nest-building. Thin legs grip branches naturally. Example: Magpies.
Running birds: Ground-dwelling, large, flightless. Strong legs, enhanced running ability. Example: Ostriches.
Climbing birds: Inhabit vertical spaces (tree trunks, cliffs). Two toes forward, two backward, for stability. Example: Parrots.
Birds of prey: Aerial hunters. Sharp, hooked claws grasp prey. Example: Eagles.

Classification of Bird Feet

Combination of Bird Beaks and Feet

For comic relief: Shoebill

Following the bird section, examples of animal appearance and behavior adapting to the environment are presented.

The Same Species in Different Environments

Mimicry, such an ingenious behavior, deserves more detailed explanation.

Exit Corridor

Descending from the second floor, you enter the exit corridor. Here, you’ll find a biography of Mr. Behring and his contributions to science education. One side features a sobering timeline of animal extinctions since the 17th century, culminating in the northern white rhino, which went extinct in the wild in 2018.

Animal Extinction Timeline

Northern White Rhino Extinct in the Wild

Public attention often centers on animals, particularly large ones. However, since industrialization, the number of extinct small mammals, reptiles, insects, marine animals, and plants is far greater. The full timeline is truly disheartening.

Ocean Hall

I spent 2.5 hours in the first two halls and started to lose steam by the Ocean Hall, taking almost no photos.

Honestly, the Ocean Hall isn’t as impressive as the first two. The layout is confusing. You ascend a spiral ramp to the 2nd floor, descend another to the 1st, and then find yourself disoriented, forced to explore radially outwards. The hall’s narrative also feels disjointed, lacking a clear storyline.

The ascending spiral has its moments, captured in this short video: 【浙江省自然博物馆安吉馆-海洋馆入口-哔哩哔哩】. Ocean-themed photography lines one side of the corridor, the vibrant colors of the marine world creating a strong visual impact.

The 2nd-floor section follows an ecosystem approach, showcasing environments like rocky shores, estuaries, mangroves, kelp forests, and coral reefs. The deep sea should be included, but it’s understandably absent due to our limited knowledge. The exhibits are mostly text and image-based, lacking specimens and dioramas due to space constraints.

On the descending spiral, several large marine animal specimens (or perhaps models) are suspended overhead.

Reaching the 1st floor, you enter an enclosed area. Small live aquariums are interspersed with display boards, featuring common marine life such as fish and jellyfish.

Branching out from this central area, you’ll find exhibits on marine mammals, cephalopods, polar ecosystems, deep-sea exploration, the marine economy, and marine conservation – a somewhat scattered arrangement.

Ocean Sunfish Internal Structure

I quickly moved on after this.

Natural Art Hall

This hall was impressive, but I didn’t linger, eager to reach the Dinosaur Hall.

The Natural Art Hall’s theme is simple: no geological or biological expertise needed. Just bring your eyes and appreciate nature’s beauty directly – a quick visit.

1st Floor: The Beauty of Life

The 1st floor celebrates the beauty of life. Leaves, wood grains, butterflies, beetles, shells, feathers, and more are displayed artistically. These natural creations are stunning individually, and their collective display is breathtaking.

Colorful butterfly ornaments

Beetle display case

Beetles in nature are even more vibrant, many with an iridescent sheen. I suspect limitations in specimen preparation and collection prevented showcasing their full splendor. Beetles belong to Coleoptera, the most diverse order of insects, and indeed, of all animals. This species richness results in a stunning variety of appearances.

Narwhal

This Arctic whale’s horn remains a mystery. While once thought to break ice for breathing, newer research suggests a more significant role in mating and reproduction.

Shells and color wheel

This exhibit highlights nature’s difficulty in synthesizing blue pigments. As the color wheel approaches blue-violet, the shells become mostly grayish-white. While blue butterflies, flowers, and feathers are common, these organisms don’t actually create blue substances. They employ microscopic structures, a clever optical illusion using other colors.

Golden pheasant neck feathers spread out

2nd Floor: The Beauty of Non-Life

The 2nd floor showcases the beauty of non-living things – specifically, rocks and minerals. I’m no expert, so I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Malachite, the blue color comes from copper

Vivianite

Tanzanite

Tanzanite was my personal favorite, likely enhanced by the lighting. The visual effects of transparent substances under light are quantum phenomena at the crystal and atomic levels. The beauty of minerals is, in essence, the beauty of physics.

Aquamarine

Dinosaur Hall

Short on time, I still decided to explore this hall thoroughly. It was packed with kids, clearly the museum’s main attraction for them.

Stepping inside was breathtaking. A projector mapped images onto a dinosaur model, perfectly synchronized. The projections cycled through the skeleton, internal organs, muscles, and skin – an internal perspective rarely seen.

Here’s a hidden gem: easily missed if you’re focused on the dinosaur, it’s a light strip on the entrance floor, pointing to a wall displaying chordate classification.

It’s a metaphor: as chordates, we trace the evolutionary path, witnessing its branching, ultimately finding our place – placental mammals. See the short video: 【浙江省自然博物馆安吉馆-恐龙馆入口处-哔哩哔哩】

Chordate evolutionary tree

Dinosaur Classification

The second exhibit expands on the chordate evolutionary tree, introducing the dinosaur family.

Dinosaur evolutionary tree

Dinosaurs are taxonomically divided into two groups based on hip structure: Ornithischia (bird-hipped) and Saurischia (lizard-hipped). Ornithischians have a pelvis resembling modern birds, while saurischians resemble other modern reptiles.

However, birds didn’t evolve from ornithischians. Birds’ true ancestors are theropods, a saurischian subgroup. The pelvic similarity between ornithischians and birds is likely convergent evolution.

I witnessed a funny scene here. A mother, explaining the dinosaur family tree to her child, misread it, saying: “Dinosaurs are divided into bird-armed and lizard-armed, got it?” She then quizzed her child: “What kind of dinosaur is Triceratops? Bird-armed. What about Tyrannosaurus Rex? Lizard-armed.”

A classic “tiger mom” moment: expecting mastery from her child without understanding it herself.

Triassic Period

The Dinosaur Hall is chronologically arranged: Triassic, Jurassic, Cretaceous. Each period features representative species and environments, with numerous fossils and reconstructions.

Dinosaurs originated in the late Triassic.

Across the corridor, the Triassic oceans are depicted. Dinosaurs were land-bound – ichthyosaurs and pterosaurs don’t qualify – but their contemporaneous existence justifies their inclusion.

Ichthyosaurs, marine reptiles returned from land, initially swam like lizards, wriggling their bodies. Later forms swam like fish, using only tail fins – a significant adaptation for deep-sea life.

Mixosaurus, with limbs too reduced for walking on land.

Nothosaurs (pachypleurosaurs) also returned to the sea, but differently. They remained in shallow waters, using webbed toes to paddle and hunt small fish.

Nothosaurus

Meanwhile, on land, dinosaurs thrived. Herrerasaurus, though only 3-6 meters long, was a top predator. Its forelimbs were evolving for hunting, with five fingers reduced to three.

Jurassic Period

By the Jurassic, land predators had become even more formidable. As you can see, Yangchuanosaurus was much more robust, reaching up to 10 meters in length.

Yangchuanosaurus

On the herbivore side, sauropods (part of the saurischian group) were diversifying. These were the giants with long necks and tails, like Diplodocus, Brachiosaurus, and Mamenchisaurus.

Take a look at the skulls, especially the teeth. Different tooth structures reflect different feeding strategies – much like the division of labor on the African savanna. Nature always finds a way.

3 types of skulls and tooth functions

The Jurassic section features a fascinating “Death Trap” scene. Note Guanlong’s appearance – it sports feathers on its forelimbs. Guanlong, a tyrannosauroid, is related to T. rex. As a kid, I always saw dinosaurs depicted as scaly. Later research revealed that some carnivorous dinosaurs likely had feathers. While still debated, it’s now the prevailing view.

Guanlong profile

Cretaceous Period

By the Cretaceous, feathers were even more widespread. Velociraptor, a small dinosaur, was closely related to modern birds. Check out the feathers on its forelimbs and tail; it probably had downy feathers all over.

A classic Cretaceous herbivore is Triceratops, one of the last dinosaurs. The caption notes something interesting: while most assume the frill and horns were for defense, recent theories suggest they were primarily for courtship.

Courtship again! First the narwhal, now this. A recent study even suggests giraffes’ long necks evolved for mating, not reaching leaves. Love seems to trump survival – the wild romance of animals. →_→

This Triceratops fossil is remarkably complete, preserving most of the key bones. The display, of course, is a model.

Across from Triceratops stands its frequent adversary, Tyrannosaurus rex. Standing beneath it, gazing up at that massive jaw… the sense of intimidation is palpable.

Don’t scoff at its tiny arms – judging by the skeleton, it could easily win an arm-wrestling match.

While on the first floor of the Dinosaur Hall, look out the windows. The museum has some hidden Easter eggs. One window overlooks a dinosaur sculpture on the lawn – a nice touch.

Dinosaur Lifestyle and Other Reptiles

The second floor of the Dinosaur Hall is smaller. You’re greeted by an animatronic T. rex, surrounded by kids and parents snapping photos.

This floor explores dinosaur behavior. It highlights how challenging it is to study ancient animal behavior from fossils. Consider breathing: we can infer about bird ancestors by studying living birds, but the respiration of ornithischian dinosaurs, which have no living descendants, remains a mystery. Respiratory systems leave few skeletal traces, and soft tissues rarely fossilize.

CT scans of skull interiors might offer clues about breathing.

Another major theme on the second floor is the marine and aerial reptiles of the era.

Two different types of pterosaurs and their periods

A 10-meter wingspan – imagine that.

Marine reptiles also have their evolutionary tree.

Ecology Hall

This hall is massive, but I only had 40 minutes left. I had to speed through, but I grasped the main points.

It begins with the Biosphere 2 experiment, a failed attempt at a self-contained ecosystem. Why did it fail? Keep that in mind. The hall underscores ecosystem complexity from multiple perspectives.

The hall dedicates considerable space to explaining ecosystem components: producers, consumers, decomposers, their functions, food chains, and how water, carbon, nitrogen, and phosphorus cycle through nature. It adopts a wider view, focusing on interspecies relationships and interactions, rather than on individual organisms.

This small display exemplifies this. While the previous five halls would’ve highlighted a single moment in a pine moth’s life, here, its entire life cycle is shown. I’ve often seen the larvae and adults, but never connected the two.

Given the ecological theme, the hall meticulously recreates species’ habitats. The initial exhibits realistically depict several natural environments.

Beetles in their element.

There was a truly impressive section I couldn’t photograph due to time constraints. It consisted of dioramas, akin to those in the Geological Hall, each portraying a different environment and its characteristic species: subtropical desert, North American prairie, alpine tundra, and so on. The animal specimens and settings were incredibly immersive, resembling exquisite crystal balls.

Next, a unique circular area presents interspecies relationships and interactions, each accompanied by a short nature narrative and a realistic scene. This space truly highlights the museum’s creative approach.

Check out the short video: 【浙江省自然博物馆安吉馆-生态馆物种相互作用-哔哩哔哩】

Here’s another interesting point, one most people (myself included) likely haven’t considered: Ecosystems vary not just by location, but also by altitude within the same location.

Mount Everest serves as a prime example. Its 8,000-meter elevation encompasses seven ecosystems, with distinct differences between the windward and leeward sides.

The hall also explores how various natural factors influence ecosystems. While discussing rainfall, I came across an engaging interactive exhibit.

The diagram indicates that visitors can drag the screen below to alter the rainfall in the animation, which in turn changes the vegetation. The museum’s intention was to allow visitors to modify precipitation and observe the ecosystem’s response. Sadly, the device malfunctioned; regardless of the dragging, the animation consistently displayed a rainforest.

Further along, there’s more on ecosystem roles and conservation, but I’ll skip the details.

Near the exit, the initial question is finally answered: Why did Biosphere 2 fail?

Naturally, the answer extends beyond those few lines. A small theater screens a film about Biosphere 2. I was eager to sit, watch, and enjoy the yogurt I’d packed. However, with closing time nearing, I only managed a brief look.

The film noted that Biosphere 2 contained an overabundance of decomposers, disrupting the balance with other system components.

Conclusion

My overriding feeling during the latter half was a lack of time; I had to rush. Even so, the museum was thrilling overall. I highly recommend it.

Two minor issues:

While the video content is high-quality, some footage is quite blurry, likely from older sources.
Insufficient lighting. I frequently encountered text panels in dimly lit corners, making them difficult to read.

Finally, some advice for those planning a visit to the Zhejiang Museum of Natural History, Anji:

Book the afternoon session; it’s an hour longer than the morning one.
Even with the four-hour afternoon session, prioritization is key:
- If you have kids interested in animals, concentrate on the Behring Hall, Ocean Hall, and Dinosaur Hall.
- For those keen on the broader evolutionary narrative, focus on the Geological Hall, Behring Hall, and Ecology Hall.
- If you simply want to appreciate nature’s beauty, prioritize the Behring Hall, Natural Art Hall, and Ecology Hall.
The museum is less than a 30-minute drive from Anji town, so you can grab a bite there beforehand.
The museum offers convenient underground parking.

5-Day Self-Driving Tour in Dunhuang

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Wed, 14 Apr 2021 20:57:03 +0000

Spring had just arrived in Dunhuang in early April, a couple of months before peak season. Despite the Qingming Festival holiday, it wasn’t crowded. Some sights, like desert plants or the Populus euphratica forest, weren’t yet in bloom.

Day 1: Departure and Dunhuang Museum

We flew from Hangzhou, connecting in Lanzhou before heading to Dunhuang. The landscape changed dramatically as we approached – a stark contrast to the south.

Dense, snow-capped mountains appeared below the clouds – the Qilian Mountains. Lower down, melted snow revealed dark rock. The terrain flattened into a dark brown Gobi desert, the boundary between the two strikingly clear. Further on, wind and temperature shaped the land into vast yellow sands. Finally, Dunhuang, a desert city, emerged through the clouds. The whole scene felt like an amazing 4D movie or game cutscene.

I’d hoped to avoid sandstorms, but the airport wind was fierce. The kind that makes you chase your hat, only to get a mouthful of sand.

One gust, a mouthful of sand, and you’re ready for adventure?

Luckily, we’d rented a car. We picked it up and went straight to the hotel. After dropping our bags, we visited the Dunhuang Museum. (Museum = geography and history lesson. Skip ahead for pictures if you prefer.)

Geography

Dunhuang, a county-level city under Jiuquan, is Gansu’s westernmost city. It’s closer to Hami in Xinjiang than Jiuquan, acting as a key passage to Xinjiang.

Dunhuang is inseparable from the Hexi Corridor. It forms a line with Jiuquan, Zhangye, Jinchang, and Wuwei to its east, connected by a single highway. Gansu’s map looks like a bone: the larger southeastern part is Gannan (centered on Lanzhou), while the middle and northwest are roughly the Hexi Corridor.

The Hexi Corridor’s geography is unique – a narrow passage with obstacles on either side. The Qilian Mountains lie to the south, with the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau beyond. The desert of western Inner Mongolia is to the northeast. Mountains from the Tianshan range are to the north. The corridor connects to Gannan and central China in the southeast, and to Xinjiang (the ancient Western Regions) in the other direction.

The Hexi Corridor is the Silk Road’s throat; Dunhuang is its gateway.

History

Most Chinese dynastic conflicts were within the Great Wall. It separated northern nomads, while the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau isolated plateau peoples and Central Asian civilizations. The Shu region blocked South Asian forces. Imagine ancient Han Chinese territory as a water bag with one opening: facing northwest, towards Dunhuang. This location gave Dunhuang an extraordinary historical role.

Civilization thrives on exchange, not just resources. Contact with the Western Regions began in the Western Han Dynasty. Zhang Qian’s mission, despite two captures by the Xiongnu, established relations and connected the Silk Road. The Han Dynasty controlled the Hexi Corridor, with Dunhuang at the forefront of cultural exchange. At its peak, the Protectorate of the Western Regions directly administered the area. The Han Great Wall and Yumenguan’s beacon towers witnessed this.

Silk Road trade wasn’t just China and the Western Regions. Cleopatra VII loved silk, as records and artworks show. Eastern goods spread throughout the civilized world.

During Wang Mang’s reforms, the Western Regions rejected his regime, cutting ties with the East. The short-lived Xin Dynasty fell, and the Eastern Han regained control.

After the Eastern Han, history focuses on the Three Kingdoms, overlooking the Wei Kingdom’s control of the Hexi Corridor and the open Silk Road. It remained generally open through the Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties, despite harassment from the Xiongnu, Xianbei, Rouran, and Turks.

The Sui and Tang Dynasties were the Silk Road’s golden age. Exchanges peaked. Jingjiao (Nestorianism), seen in “The Longest Day in Chang’an,” was introduced to China. The Tibetan Empire, a unified dynasty, arose. They invaded the Hexi Corridor and Western Regions, cutting off the Silk Road. Tang-Tibetan wars lasted nearly 200 years, with the corridor repeatedly lost and regained. Princess Wencheng’s marriage was to appease the defeated Songtsen Gampo. The Tibetan Empire, at its strongest, even captured Chang’an and attacked the southwest, allied with the Nanzhao Kingdom. It eventually collapsed from internal divisions. Zhang Yichao, from Shazhou (Dunhuang), led an uprising, captured the Hexi Corridor, and surrendered to the Tang, reconnecting the Silk Road.

After the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, the Song Dynasty was too preoccupied with the Liao, Jin, and Western Xia to regain control.

The Yuan Dynasty was brief but unified central China, the Western Regions, and the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau for the first time, solving the Han dynasties’ foreign affairs issues. Unity is key to stability. Even after Genghis Khan, with the Mongol Empire split, civilian exchanges continued. This vast empire was a highway for East-West exchange. Silk Road exchanges continued for over a century under the Yuan. Marco Polo witnessed China’s prosperity during this time.

The Ming and Qing Dynasties were relatively closed, and with rising maritime trade, the overland Silk Road declined. The Qing rebuilt Shazhou City, upgrading Dunhuang, but had little interest in opening it for trade.

Mogao Caves and Buddhism

Dunhuang’s geography and history are just the backdrop. The Mogao Caves and Buddhist culture are its soul.

Buddhism originated in India in the 6th century BC, spreading to China during the Western Han Dynasty. Ashoka made it the state religion of the Mauryan Dynasty, promoting it widely. Many Chinese sites still have Ashoka Temple and Pagoda. Most Eastern civilizations, including the Han, Western Regions, and plateau peoples, accepted Buddhism.

However, India, Buddhism’s birthplace, lost its status. Under colonial rule, it gave way to Persian and Arab religions. Its future shifted east, to Dunhuang. Dunhuang’s rulers represented Buddhist civilization, regardless of wars and changes.

Historical changes might have destroyed the city, but for the Mogao Caves, it was a crucible, forging today’s treasures.

We’ll discuss the Mogao Caves later (Day 3).

Museum

Here are some museum photos. There are many high-definition replicas of Mogao Cave art, for close observation.

A model of Mogao Cave 45 (High Tang period). The highlight: 7 statues with excellent expressions.

The Bodhisattva statue, the “Beautiful Bodhisattva,” depicts the ideal High Tang female image.

Han Dynasty documents. The beauty of this writing is clear.

A delicate Buddhist painting: the Nine-Tiered Pagoda of the Three Realms.

I missed photos of other interesting items. Chain mail, unearthed in Dunhuang, was one. Originating in Europe, it appeared in Dunhuang during the Han and Tang, showing surprisingly fast technology transfer. It was precious equipment, worn only by those of rank.

Leaving the hall, we saw a cute modern pixel painting, imitating the Mogao Caves’ Nine-Colored Deer murals.

Day 2: Yumen Pass and Yangguan Pass

We took the western route on day two. The original plan: West Thousand Buddha Caves first (a prelude to Mogao, with more detailed explanations), then Yangguan Pass and Yumen Pass. Finally, Yadan Ghost City for sunset among the wind-eroded rocks.

But Yadan Ghost City had closed last year, reopening to be announced – probably for periodic maintenance.

So, we adjusted: Yumen Pass first, working our way back, hitting as many spots as possible.

The Solar Power Tower

Near Dunhuang, we found a solar power station. I’d noticed neat squares in this area on the map, thinking it was a new tech district.

We detoured to the entrance and found it was a CGN photovoltaic project. For a remote desert city like Dunhuang, clean energy is ideal.

Behind the plant, a tall tower emitted a dazzling white light, with beams converging at the top, like Red Alert’s Prism Tower. It’s a solar thermal station, with thousands of mirrors forming a huge concave mirror. It boils water to drive a steam turbine. Energy efficiency is about 15%, lower than photovoltaics, but it generates AC, easier to connect to the grid.

This bright tower kept us company throughout the day, emphasizing the Gobi Desert’s flatness.

Yumen Pass

After nearly 2 hours, we were surrounded by barren landscape. Some sections had desert vegetation.

Three roads lead into the Yumen Pass scenic area, each to different ruins.

The right road leads to Dafangpan City and a beacon tower, 12 kilometers away, requiring a shuttle bus (fixed times, so you wait). The bus only stops for 30 minutes, not enough for photos and enjoying the view.

Dafangpan City’s full view. A Han Dynasty granary, opening to the south.

A beacon tower on the other side of the road.

Dafangpan City details, some with a Yadan feel. The small holes might be ventilation.

A small lake on the northeast side.

Back at the start, the left road leads to the Han Dynasty Great Wall ruins, 5 kilometers away, also requiring a bus (15-minute visit).

The ruins are shorter than expected, under 3 meters at the highest. The Han Great Wall is 136 kilometers long, from Guazhou to Dunhuang, blocking the Hexi Corridor’s entrance. This 300-meter section is the best-preserved in the country.

Two thousand years ago, soldiers used reeds and gravel to build it in layers. Different weathering rates create horizontal stripes.

One end connects to a beacon tower, always built on high ground.

The Great Wall wasn’t built all at once under Qin Shi Huang, but extended over dynasties. The Han Great Wall was built when Emperor Wu conquered the Western Regions. It included facilities for beacon fire transmission, troop garrisoning, transportation, and farming – a complete defense system.

The beacon fire system appeared as early as the Western Zhou Dynasty (“playing with the feudal lords with beacon fires”). The Han system was complex, with different signals for different situations, materials, and times of day.

Petrified firewood, seen in the museum. Soldiers collected reeds and Salix matsudana branches (unlike weeping willows, these grow upwards). They were plastered with mud for stability. The layered structure is visible.

Returning from the Han Great Wall, one road leads to Xiaofangpan City (Yumen Pass), a small castle and the scenic area’s core, just a few minutes’ walk.

The interior isn’t large, but you can stand on the wall.

A close-up of the outer wall, made of reeds and sand.

North of Xiaofangpan City, a modern observation deck lets you experience looking north. It’s flat between the tower and mountains, making it easy to spot enemies.

Yangguan Pass

Yangguan Pass has few ruins, mostly reconstructions. Siege weapon models are displayed in front of the antique-style pass.

Wang Wei’s line “West of Yangguan, there are no old friends” is literally true. Yangguan Pass was a border crossing, requiring a pass (equivalent to a passport). “Guanzhao” (关照) originally meant a pass, but soldiers would protect those with passes, evolving into its current verb meaning.

Beyond this pass, a beacon tower is the only remaining relic. It’s farther than it looks – you’ll need transport (battery cars, donkey carts, horses, camels – different prices).

I recommend riding a camel. The four of us swayed, the setting sun on our faces. The camel bells were the most beautiful part. The Mingsha Mountain camels (visited later) lacked bells. It was near closing, and the wind and bells made the experience vivid.

The handsome white camel leading the way.

The camel team arrived at the beacon tower. Looking back against the light, the scene was desolate and lonely – awe-inspiring.

Don’t rush back; the real highlight is ahead. Walk higher, and the scenery behind the mountain will take your breath away.

That’s my friend, not me.

Looking back, the same desolation.

You can pay extra to have the camels take you along the Yangguan Road, to a valley and sandy area. The guide claimed it’s a well-preserved ancient road.

It’s questionable, as the ancient Yangguan Road led out of the pass. But the stele of the ruins is at the beacon tower, so it might be true. The experience is what matters.

A Gobi traveler in the afterglow, looking like someone heading towards the vast Western Regions. An amazing end to a day on the western route!

Day 3: Mogao Caves

The Mogao Caves are very close to the airport, even closer than downtown Dunhuang. The site is split into two parts. First, you visit the Digital Exhibition Center, where you watch two short digital films, about 10-20 minutes each.

The first film is a regular movie with actors, providing background on Dunhuang’s history and the Mogao Caves. The second is a 360-degree dome movie, which uses digital models to showcase some of the best caves.

The actual caves are about 12 kilometers from the Digital Center. A buffer zone separates the two, and you must take the park’s shuttle bus—private cars aren’t allowed.

Stepping off the bus, the sheer scale of the Mogao Caves is immediately apparent. Over 700 caves exist, with almost 500 containing statues and murals. However, only around 60 are open to the public. Some caves, like those in the photo, were monks’ living quarters and lack murals. Mogao stretches for 1.7 kilometers, and this is only a small part.

Mogao Caves are a World Heritage Site, a national treasure, but what are they? Historically, they served as a temple complex for monks and a place of worship for believers.

During the Northern and Southern Dynasties, a monk named Le Zun arrived at Sanwei Mountain. He witnessed a golden light, “like a thousand Buddhas,” and began carving caves into the cliff face. This marked the beginning of the Mogao Caves.

From that point on, it was like a chain reaction – more monks and believers came to carve caves and create statues. Construction continued from the Northern and Southern Dynasties through the late Tang Dynasty. During the Song and Yuan Dynasties, local rulers maintained the site, but new construction largely ceased.

The cave area is a separate zone; once you exit, you can’t re-enter. You can’t wander freely – your ticket dictates how many caves you can visit. Booking in advance usually gets you an “A” ticket, granting access to 8 random caves with a guide. Caves open on a rotating basis for preservation. The guide unlocks each cave and locks it after your visit, minimizing damage to the murals from temperature, humidity, and light.

Photography is prohibited, so I’ll use official Mogao Caves or online images.

Mogao Cave 29

Built in the mid-late Tang Dynasty, with murals repainted during the Western Xia period.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=530741411143zh

This is the caisson ceiling of Cave 29. A caisson ceiling is a recessed decorative ceiling in Chinese architecture, adorned with painted patterns. The vibrant greenish-blue, seen extensively in many caves, comes from malachite green, a natural copper-based pigment.

The Western Xia and the contemporary Uyghurs left behind many caves in Mogao, each with distinct features. The walls are often covered with neatly arranged, repeating Buddha images, representing a thousand Buddhas.

Mogao Cave 329

Built in the early Tang Dynasty, with statues renovated in the Qing Dynasty.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=027193821344

This cave also features a 360-degree VR image from Digital Dunhuang: https://www.e-dunhuang.com/cave/10.0001/0001.0001.0329

Careless Qing Dynasty renovations left these statues somewhat crude, resembling those in a small, local temple. The main draws of this cave are the murals and caisson ceiling. I find the Tang Dynasty murals the most exquisite. Unlike the thousand-Buddha backgrounds of the Western Regions, the Central Plains dynasties’ murals tell stories. These “sutra transformation paintings” (jingbianhua) are a pioneering art form, using paintings to depict Buddhist scripture stories, akin to murals in Western European churches.

The north-side mural depicts Shakyamuni’s birth. Before becoming a Buddha, Shakyamuni was an Indian prince. His mother, Queen Maya, encountered a Bodhisattva riding an elephant descending on clouds. The elephant touched her belly with its trunk, and she became pregnant, giving birth to Shakyamuni from her armpit. The armpit birth relates to the Indian caste system. Shakyamuni’s Kshatriya family, second only to Brahmins, had their caste status associated with the arm.

The south-side mural depicts Shakyamuni’s enlightenment. Witnessing birth, old age, sickness, death, and life’s impermanence, he sought truth and escape from worldly constraints. He rode a horse, with four heavenly kings holding its hooves, and flew over the city wall, escorted by singing and playing apsaras (flying deities) to the mountains for ascetic practice.

The figures’ dark skin is due to the oxidation of the lead-based red pigment used for skin tones. Other colors fade, but the skin tone changes completely, requiring some imagination.

The caisson ceiling is a Mogao masterpiece. The central lotus pattern represents Buddhism’s Western Pure Land. The layered details are rich yet organized. The outermost layer features flying apsaras playing musical instruments.

Flying apsaras are Buddhist deities of song, dance, and flower scattering, capable of flight with just two silk ribbons. They appear in almost every cave, lively and elegant.

On the north wall is a Maitreya sutra transformation painting. Note the technique: figures face forward, while buildings are viewed from above, with a near-large, far-small perspective. This predates Leonardo da Vinci’s perspective painting by almost a thousand years.

Mogao Cave 328

Built in the early Tang Dynasty, it remains unrenovated, preserving the original early Tang style.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=744635762684

The main Buddha retains the Western Regions beard and hasn’t been completely de-gendered.

On the left is Kasyapa, Shakyamuni’s chief disciple, an ascetic monk with a furrowed brow and solemn expression.

On the right is Ananda, Shakyamuni’s cousin, known as “the most learned” for his memory and long exposure to the Dharma. His expression and posture are more relaxed than Kasyapa’s.

The asymmetrical number of supporting Bodhisattva statues is due to the theft of one by American Langdon Warner; it’s now in Harvard’s Arthur M. Sackler Museum.

Mogao Cave 17

Built in the late Tang Dynasty, this is the famous Library Cave that brought global renown to the Mogao Caves.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=178377696853

Digital Dunhuang VR image: https://www.e-dunhuang.com/cave/10.0001/0001.0001.0017

The door is numbered 16-17, representing two caves. The larger cave was under renovation during our visit. Cave 17 is the small side cave.

The statue of the monk Hong Bian in meditation is a memorial built by his disciples. The mural behind depicts his daily practice, with maids, nuns, a backpack, and a water bottle on the Bodhi tree.

In the early 11th century, the statue was moved, and this cave was sealed with over 50,000 Buddhist scriptures, paintings, and documents, covering over 700 years of social history from the Jin Dynasty to the early Song Dynasty. These are incredibly valuable relics. Two main theories explain the sealing: the refuge theory suggests monks hid the scriptures to protect them from war; the abandonment theory posits they were discarded documents that, out of respect, couldn’t be destroyed, so they were sealed away.

In 1900, a Taoist priest, Wang Yuanlu, was clearing sand. The guide pointed out sand lines on the cave entrance – oblique scratches from accumulated sand rubbing against the wall, the highest almost reaching the door top. Wang Yuanlu noticed a crack in the wall, revealing brick, not rock. He broke through and discovered the 50,000+ relics.

He reported it to the government, but the Qing Dynasty showed little interest in文物 protection. Foreign explorers arrived and bought batches of scrolls at low prices. Over 40,000 of the 50,000+ relics were lost overseas.

A photo of the Library Cave and scrolls taken by American Aurel Stein.

Frenchman Paul Pelliot selecting relics in the Library Cave.

Mogao Cave 292

Built in the Sui Dynasty.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=864712375785

This cave has an innovative layout: three groups of Buddha statues (1 Buddha + 2 disciples each). The front is the present Buddha Shakyamuni, the south is the past Buddha Dipankara, and the north is the future Buddha Maitreya.

Besides the Three Buddhas divided by time, there are Three Buddhas divided by space. The Eastern Medicine Buddha (Pure Lapis Lazuli World) is for present-day well-being. The central Shakyamuni Buddha (Saha World) is Buddhism’s leader. The Western Amitabha Buddha (Land of Ultimate Bliss) guides beings to escape suffering. Some Buddhists believe the Three Buddhas in space are all incarnations of Shakyamuni.

Sui Dynasty Buddha statues differ greatly from Tang Dynasty ones, lacking realistic proportions and having large, square heads. The past Buddha Dipankara and future Buddha Maitreya have similar images. The common big-bellied Maitreya image is based on a later cloth bag monk.

The commonly seen Maitreya Buddha statue today.

The cave’s top features a pair of lions, now humorous due to oxidation, making them look lightning-struck.

Mogao Cave 61

Built during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=816484388973

Digital Dunhuang VR image: https://www.e-dunhuang.com/cave/10.0001/0001.0001.0061

This cave has a horseshoe-shaped altar, but the Buddha statue is destroyed. A lion’s tail shape at the remaining connection suggests it enshrined Manjushri Bodhisattva, whose mount is a lion.

Behind the altar is a massive “Map of Mount Wutai” (Manjushri’s dojo), 13 meters long and 3.6 meters high, detailing roads to Mount Wutai, Buddhist pilgrimages, and local life. I saw a high-definition replica in the Mogao Caves Art Museum (these two pictures are from there).

Another highlight is the donor mural near the entrance. This cave was a merit hall built by secular believers, so the donors are like sponsors’ logos – prominently displayed.

After the Tibetan Empire’s decline, Zhang Yichao established the Guiyi Army, seized Dunhuang and Guazhou, and submitted to the Tang. The Cao family, the second ruling family of the Guiyi Army, built this cave. The murals depict Cao family women, their peach-shaped hairstyles indicating Uyghur identity. Uyghur is a Turkic language, and its pronunciation is close to that of the modern Uyghur ethnic group.

Picture from the art museum. Left: Uyghur lady married into the Guiyi Army. Second from left: Han Chinese, but married into the Uyghur regime and dressed in Uyghur attire. Third from left: Different hairstyle, a woman from Khotan (a Buddhist regime in today’s Hotan, Xinjiang). This shows the Guiyi Army’s delicate balance through marriage alliances. The fourth from the left, taller and in Han attire, is the family’s true mistress, but she yielded the first three positions out of courtesy.

Mogao Cave 96

Built in the early Tang Dynasty and commonly called the Nine-Story Building, this is the largest structure in the Mogao Caves.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=525124140728

It’s magnificent from the outside, fully utilizing the cliff’s height.

Photographed by Warner in 1924. The external building had vanished; only the cliffside Buddha statue remained after thousands of years. The current building is a reconstruction.

The 35.5-meter-high statue of Maitreya Buddha is China’s largest indoor Buddha. Carved from the cliff, its details were created with plastered mud. It’s a stone-core clay statue, unlike the smaller clay-core statues.

The Buddha’s left hand, palm up, is the Varada Mudra (fulfilling wishes – compassion). The right hand, palm forward, is the Abhaya Mudra (removing suffering – mercy). Compassion and mercy are distinct.

Mogao Cave 148

Built in the High Tang Dynasty, renovated in the late Tang, Western Xia, and Qing Dynasties, this is Mogao’s largest reclining Buddha cave.

Official introduction: http://tour.dha.ac.cn/content.aspx?id=659662000840

The delicate, natural clothing folds reflect High Tang Dynasty customs.

Reclining Buddha statues depict Shakyamuni’s death, signifying his escape from reincarnation and suffering. This is the Nirvana Buddha, and the cave’s shape echoes this, with a coffin-lid-like top.

Densely packed disciples and believers show sadness. The guide noted one (not pictured) with higher understanding, smiling, happy for the Buddha’s Nirvana.

The three walls feature a huge Nirvana sutra transformation painting, depicting events before and after Shakyamuni’s Nirvana: 66 scenes, 500+ characters and animals – a masterpiece.

Part of the Nirvana sutra transformation painting (from the art museum). Four strong men carry the body, with Bodhisattvas, monks, and believers seeing them off.

The body was cremated, and the Buddha’s relics were distributed for safekeeping and worship.

Art Museum

Visiting the caves is rushed, for preservation, minimizing human impact. The explanations are roughly equivalent to this travelogue’s content, hard to remember fully. I recalled this information gradually after returning and researching.

Therefore, visiting the Mogao Caves Art Museum afterward is essential. Here, you can calmly examine details.

The museum displays models of typical caves, representing different architectural forms.

Zen caves: monks’ living quarters, without statues or murals.

Central pillar caves: usually large, with a truncated pyramidal front roof and a flat back roof. Believers circumambulate the central pillar.

Hall caves: similar to central pillar caves, but without the pillar; the statue is in a front wall niche.

Central altar caves: large dome, no pillars, an altar instead of a pillar.

Nirvana caves: rectangular, coffin-shaped, themed around Buddha’s Nirvana.

The murals depict numerous buildings from different periods.

And scenes of secular life, like this hunting scene.

Also, landscapes.

One depicts the end of the world.

Murals are also key for studying makeup. Tang Dynasty women shaved their eyebrows and repainted them, unlike other dynasties.

Scenes of music and dance.

Clothing, hairstyle, and dance posture indicate this is the Hu Xuan dance of the Western Regions, which appeared in Tang Dynasty celebrations, reflecting frequent cultural exchange.

These are imaginations of celestial music: instruments sounding without human players.

War scenes, too. This group shows Zhang Yichao’s army recovering Shazhou and Guazhou.

The most interesting are Buddhist stories. This is the Nine-Colored Deer, one of Shakyamuni’s previous lives. It saved a drowning man, who promised secrecy. The queen dreamed of the deer, and the king offered a reward. The man, tempted, revealed the secret. The deer, surrounded, told the king the truth. Moved, the king forbade harming it. The ungrateful man was covered in sores.

Besides murals, there are other relics. This “Rules of the Women’s Society of Guifang Lane” was a Tang Dynasty folk organization with membership rules and signatures. It was entirely female, evidence of Tang Dynasty openness.

A long star chart scroll, very different from modern constellations. I only recognized Vega.

Leaving the museum, returning to the bus stop. Looking east, across the valley, is Sanwei Mountain, where Le Zun saw the thousand Buddhas.

I was told at Yangguan Pass that the Mogao Caves might close permanently in three to five years for maximum mural protection. Tourists would then only see digital reproductions. Whether true or not, closure will happen eventually. I hope digital visits can better showcase its charm.

The Digital Dunhuang website, mentioned earlier, is a treasure trove with VR images of representative caves: https://www.e-dunhuang.com/index.htm.

The 2008 NHK documentary “The Full Beauty of Dunhuang” (about 3 hours) is also well-produced: https://v.qq.com/x/page/c052998o5ua.html.

“Encore Dunhuang” Performance

That evening, I saw the “Encore Dunhuang” performance. Many historical, cultural, or folk custom sites have performances; “Encore Dunhuang” is truly special.

The venue is next to the Mogao Caves scenic area.

It’s a large-scale recitation performance, communicating with ancient Dunhuang souls through a modern guide’s perspective, traversing millennia. Uniquely, for the first hour of the 1.5-hour show, the audience has no seats. They follow the plot, moving through historical scenes, experiencing major Dunhuang events up close.

I didn’t take pictures; it must be experienced. The most shocking scene, for me, was Wang Yuanlu transporting relics. The Bodhisattva manifested, and numerous flying apsaras broke through the wall, vividly restoring the Bodhisattvas’ solemnity and the apsaras’ agility.

Stargazing

After the show, I was still itching for something to do. With all the sites closed, I looked for some natural beauty.

We drove about 20 minutes out of Dunhuang, taking a small dirt road off the highway. We had no idea where it led; it was pitch black. We cut the headlights; only a faint glow from Dunhuang remained on the horizon. Obviously, 20 minutes wasn’t nearly enough to escape the light pollution.

Still, the stars were much better than anything in Hangzhou. No Milky Way, but they were the brightest I’d seen in over a decade, rivaling the skies from my childhood in Nanchang. Every star in the Big Dipper outshone Jupiter in Hangzhou’s night sky. I used the Dipper to locate Polaris, but it was dimmer than the seven, meaning there were some clouds. Conditions weren’t perfect.

No matter – the next day at Mingsha Mountain, we saw an even clearer sky.

Day 4: Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring

Our plan to visit Baima Pagoda, a lesser-known attraction, was thwarted by road construction.

Leiyin Temple

Since it was the first workday after the Qingming Festival, we headed to Leiyin Temple near Mingsha Mountain. It’s a modern temple, not ancient. The spacious grounds and widely spaced buildings, with minimal landscaping, give it a palace-like feel – quite unlike the compact, nature-filled temples of Jiangnan.

Some halls are built in the Tang Dynasty style, featuring traditional dougong (bracket sets). Others are in the later Ming and Qing styles.

Tang Dynasty dougong. (Image source: internet)

It’s a pleasant spot to unwind, but not essential.

Mingsha Mountain (Singing Sands Mountain)

Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring are two separate areas. Mingsha Mountain is where the action is: camel rides, dune buggies, and gliders. We tried them all, and it’s worth experiencing the desert from different angles.

Unlike the rocky Gobi on the West Line, here it’s all sand dunes.

As a Southerner on my first Northwest trip, I was mesmerized. I’d never seen anything like it.

The dune buggies were the best value. A pro driver accompanies you, but you can take the wheel on flatter sections. It’s tough to steer on sand; the wheels drift, requiring real effort to keep straight. We probably hit 40 km/h, and many sections were sloped – a real thrill.

Only this activity lets you pay extra to access a special area. Atop the mountain, there’s a desert botanical garden, with low-lying plants spread across the valley – a stark contrast to the dunes.

My friend’s silhouette. The desert’s charm is palpable.

These plants are almost person-high up close.

The buggy ride includes sand sliding at Jade Maiden Peak, offering panoramic views: Dunhuang city to the north, Gobi mountains to the east, and dunes to the west and south. The peak has steep, almost 60-degree slopes. Sand sliding is surprisingly safe; the friction is high, requiring effort to move even on steep inclines.

Mingsha Mountain (Singing Sands Mountain) gets its name from two sound phenomena. Strong winds create a rumble, reportedly audible in Dunhuang city. Sliding down the dunes also produces a hum, especially noticeable with multiple people. The exact cause remains a mystery.

Next, we took a glider. It’s powered, with a rear propeller, taking off from a small airstrip. The flight circles Mingsha Mountain for about two minutes, passing over Crescent Spring.

From above, Crescent Spring resembles jade inlaid in the dunes.

Camel riding was next, though I didn’t take photos. Hundreds of camels rested at the camp – a unique sight. The ride passes several photo spots before returning, taking over an hour. Having tried the other activities, and ridden camels at Yangguan, it was less thrilling. Still, desert camel riding is a distinct experience. The constant stream of camel trains at Mingsha Mountain creates a Silk Road caravan ambiance.

Crescent Spring

We headed to Crescent Spring, hoping for a sunset view.

The angled sunlight creates sharp light/shadow lines on the dunes, enhancing their three-dimensionality.

We miscalculated. Crescent Spring, fed by an underground river, lies in a depression surrounded by dunes. Reaching the edge, we realized the sun was already blocked.

The buildings near Crescent Spring felt like a paradise: flowers blooming within the walls, contrasting with the vast desert outside.

Walking the corridor, I kept expecting a Jiangnan garden landscape outside each window – a surreal feeling.

From the tallest building, you can see fish in the crescent-shaped lake.

A friend captured Crescent Spring’s transition from day to night.

Crescent Spring at twilight: incredibly peaceful.

Dunes illuminated by twilight.

After dark, stars emerged. Despite the light pollution, the clear sky offered excellent viewing. My phone captured this; imagine the naked-eye view.

A bonfire party campsite lies over 10 kilometers behind Crescent Spring, accessible with a camping package. It’s reportedly a good stargazing spot.

Day 5: Heading Back

No activities were planned. We returned the car and flew out at noon, with a 3-hour layover in Lanzhou, arriving back in Hangzhou that night.

We lucked out with the weather, avoiding sandstorms. A heavy sandstorm greeted us on arrival, but it cleared by evening. The weather improved steadily, only to worsen again two days after we left. I forgot to update my weather app and saw Dunhuang’s weather turning. The small square in the center is Dunhuang city.

Spring in Dunhuang is beautiful, but unpredictable.

A week after returning, I still dreamt of the Gobi Desert and the Buddha murals.

Tips for Dunhuang

Having planned the entire trip myself, from flights to hotels, here are some practical tips based on my experience:

City Life

Dunhuang is a surprisingly clean desert city. You get the natural beauty of the Northwest with the tidiness of a major city.

Water isn’t as scarce as you might expect. A reservoir supplies the city, and a good-sized river runs through the center. Parks along the river even have a Jiangnan feel.

Dunhuang is two hours behind Beijing time. Sunset in spring is around 8 PM. While 2 AM feels like midnight and 10 AM feels like 8 AM, attractions and restaurants generally operate on Beijing time, especially in the off-season. Most places close after 9:30 PM Beijing time, leaving only the night market and some late-night BBQ spots. Plan accordingly if you want both sunset views and a proper dinner.

At about 1200 meters above sea level, altitude sickness isn’t a concern.

Forget outdated online guides claiming poor network coverage on the West Line (Yumenguan, Yangguan) and the need for cash. Mobile payment is standard in this tourist city.

Climate

Dunhuang experiences significant temperature swings, up to 15-20 degrees Celsius between day and night. In early April, it’s pleasant, nearing 20 degrees at noon, and hotter in the desert. Nights are around 5 degrees and chilly with wind.

For a spring visit, pack for both spring and winter conditions. Avoid mesh shoes or clothes – you’ll be shaking out sand forever.

The desert sun is intense, even in spring. Sun protection is crucial: hats, sunglasses, and scarves are a must. Sunscreen is essential for the ladies.

Even dressed like this, I ended up with a tan resembling a Dunhuang mural.

Peak season is July and August, with scorching daytime temperatures.

Food

This section is time-sensitive (2021). Restaurant brands may change.

Local specialties include donkey meat with yellow noodles (驴肉黄面) and braised mutton with pancakes (胡羊焖饼). Expect lots of donkey meat, mutton, and noodle dishes. Shacong (沙葱) is a tasty local vegetable, often served in a cold salad. Apricot peel water (杏皮水) is the local drink, similar to sour plum soup. Xinjiang and Sichuan cuisine are also widely available.

Our first meal was at the Shazhou Night Market – a tourist trap with mediocre food. We found much better options later.

We asked locals for recommendations, and they pointed us to highly-rated restaurants on Dianping (大众点评, a Chinese review app). Dianping is a more reliable source than the local tourism bureau.

Cheng Bianbian BBQ (城边边烧烤): A popular BBQ joint, open late – expect a queue. The grilled meats and lamb chops are excellent, with a unique, slightly sour flavor (vinegar in BBQ is new to me!). Their fresh fruit yogurt is also worth trying.

Huoyanyan BBQ (火焱焱烤肉): BBQ and Xinjiang cuisine, also open late. We went around 9 PM without waiting. We recall two noodle dishes: Xinjiang beef rice noodles and a soupy noodle dish (name forgotten).

Daji Jiang Donkey Meat Yellow Noodle Restaurant (达记酱驴肉黄面馆): A traditional, old-fashioned restaurant with waiters who look to be in their 50s. They likely only serve lunch and dinner. The yellow noodles and donkey meat are far superior to those at the Shazhou Night Market. The donkey meat is thickly sliced, and the noodles aren’t overly sour.

We mostly ate at Dicos and KFC otherwise, due to time constraints. Dicos is prevalent in Dunhuang.

Two other noteworthy mentions:

A small pastry stall at the Shazhou Night Market food street entrance serves breakfast. The grilled corn cakes are delicious, reminding my friends from Northeast China of their childhood.
“Liu Ajing” (刘阿晶) is a ubiquitous local milk tea brand. Their signature 3-yuan large ice cream cone is rich and creamy – I had it three times in five days.

Accommodation

Two main lodging options exist: near the Flying Apsaras statue (反弹琵琶雕像) in the bustling city center, close to the Shazhou Night Market; or near Mingsha Mountain, offering convenient sightseeing and scenic views.

Dunhuang is small, with most high-rises being hotels. A south-facing window guarantees a view of Mingsha Mountain, varying only in distance.

We stayed at the Bohui Wenhua Hotel in the city center, near the commercial district. It’s 3 kilometers from Mingsha Mountain, but the views are still great due to the dunes’ size.

I was highly satisfied with the hotel. Rooms were clean, tidy, and spacious – land seems inexpensive here. The staff were consistently friendly and helpful. They even called to inform me of Mingsha Mountain’s closure due to dusty weather on our first day.

Perhaps due to the off-season, the hotel provided complimentary breakfast for two days, even though our room didn’t include it. Breakfast was delivered to our room, with the option to schedule delivery the day before.

The light breakfast was a welcome change after days of BBQ, lamb chops, and fried chicken.

Transportation

Dunhuang is compact, no more than 10 kilometers across. In 2021, there were only four bus lines.

Parking is plentiful in spring. As a seasonal tourist city, public resources are designed for peak season, leaving ample availability in the off-season. Parking is free at all attractions except Mogao Caves.

Underground parking is rare. Parking fees are very low, capped at 20 yuan per night, with some places charging per entry. Renting a car is highly recommended for freedom and convenience.

Car rental companies are almost exclusively located at the airport, which is conveniently near the train station, allowing for easy pickup and return.

Heed speed limits. It’s easy to speed in this vast, sparsely populated area. Keep your navigation on. The speed limit from the airport to the city is 70 km/h, deceptively low for the wide, open road. There are also 40 km/h zones near schools. The West Line has frequent speed limit changes, so listen to your navigation. Average speed enforcement is in place near Yumenguan.

There are no gas stations on the West Line (to Yumenguan and Yadan), and the round trip is at least 200 kilometers, so fuel up beforehand.

Main Attractions

Dunhuang Museum: Visiting time: 2-3 hours. A 10-minute drive from downtown, with parking available. Free admission, but advance booking and ID card entry are required. The “Bowuguan” (博物官) WeChat mini-program offers audio guides for some artifacts.

Yumenguan Pass: Visiting time: 2-3 hours. The furthest point on the West Line (excluding Yadan), a 2-hour drive, accessible only by self-driving, chartered car, or a local day trip. Purchase tickets on the “You Dunhuang” (游敦煌) WeChat official account. Third-party platforms often bundle tickets with unwanted activities. The West Line is desolate; plan your meals. A restaurant is inside the Yumenguan scenic area, but there are no other dining options en route.

Yangguan Pass: Visiting time: 2-3 hours, potentially longer as it’s expanding. Also on the West Line, you’ll pass it en route to Yumenguan. Buy tickets on the “You Dunhuang” WeChat official account. Many farmhouses surround Yangguan, but their off-season availability is uncertain. A Dicos and possibly another snack place are inside the scenic area.

Mogao Caves: Visiting time: 3-4 hours. East of Dunhuang, near the airport (about a 20-minute drive). Staff will contact you a few days prior to confirm your digital movie viewing time. The visit begins with two digital movies, followed by a bus ride to the cave area. Movie showtimes are fixed, so punctuality is essential. Restaurants are available inside the Mogao Caves area, with additional farmhouse-style options closer to the airport.

Encore Dunhuang (又见敦煌): Visiting time: 1.5 hours. In the off-season, there’s one daily show at 8 PM. The theater is next to Mogao Caves, with its own parking. This performance and Mogao Caves are usually combined. Careful planning is crucial, down to the hour. Calculate your Mogao Caves visit completion time (based on the movie start time), factor in a meal (nearby or in the city), and arrive at the theater before 8 PM. The first hour of Encore Dunhuang is standing-room-only, moving between scenes. Strict security checks prohibit outside food and water.

Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring: Visiting time: 3-6 hours (excluding overnight camping). Spend an entire afternoon and stay for sunset. The scenic area is just 3 kilometers from the city. The ticket allows unlimited entries within three days – activate this by scanning your face at a machine near the gate. This makes dining easy, though restaurants are also available inside.

List of All Attractions

Grouped by location for easy planning. Must-see attractions are bolded.

East Line: Mogao Caves, Encore Dunhuang performance
West Line: Dunhuang Ancient City Film Base, Western Thousand Buddha Caves, Yangguan Pass, Yumenguan Pass, Yadan Devil City
South of the City: Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring, Leiyin Temple, Dunhuang Grand Ceremony performance
Guazhou Line: Yulin Caves, Suoyang City
Other in the City: Dunhuang Museum, White Horse Pagoda, Shazhou Ancient City, Silk Road Flower Rain performance

The West Line is a single road, listed from nearest to furthest. You can’t cover all five locations in one day; skip 2-3.

The Guazhou Line requires a trip to Guazhou County (part of Dunhuang City). The Yulin Caves are reportedly worthwhile, managed by the same unit as Mogao Caves, and feature many exquisite works.

Other city attractions can fill itinerary gaps.

Local small parks and minor attractions are excluded.

Expenses

Hotels and transportation are very inexpensive in the off-season. Dining costs are normal, and even fruit prices are comparable to Hangzhou. Our primary expenses were airfare and recreational activities.

Other People’s Guides or Travelogues

Here are some other guides and travelogues I found useful:

Comprehensive travelogue: https://www.mafengwo.cn/i/10927558.html
Comprehensive travelogue: http://www.mafengwo.cn/i/10546594.html
West Line travelogue: http://www.mafengwo.cn/i/16989550.html
Dunhuang’s three major performances: https://www.mafengwo.cn/gonglve/ziyouxing/14655.html

Behind the Scenes

I was in charge of planning this entire trip, and everyone I traveled with was really happy with the itinerary I put together.

Honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process for planning a trip. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

A Bit of Homework on Suzhou Gardens

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Wed, 30 Sep 2020 10:18:27 +0000

I’m visiting Suzhou’s gardens during the National Day holiday. My previous visit, as a student, was underwhelming – I knew little about them, and only the Lion Grove Garden’s rockery maze stuck with me. To avoid a repeat, I did some prep work. Now, they’re far more intriguing, and I’m excited to go.

Expecting crowds, I’m not aiming for great photos. If I get any, I might expand this into a travelogue. Otherwise, these notes will do.

My main source is the podcast “园林里的中国故事” (Chinese Gardens’ Stories), a summary of key facts about several gardens. I’m unfamiliar with the host, but I’ve verified the information. The host’s deep historical and cultural knowledge, and clear connections, make it a worthwhile listen.

Globally, three garden systems stand out: Chinese classical, European geometric, and Japanese gardens.

Chinese classical gardens have three branches: imperial gardens, Jiangnan’s private gardens, and Lingnan gardens. Lingnan gardens, historically on the periphery, lacked the literati influence and wealth, developing a distinct, folk-influenced style.

China’s Four Great Gardens are the Summer Palace, Chengde Mountain Resort, Humble Administrator’s Garden, and Lingering Garden.

Canglang Pavilion, Lion Grove Garden, Humble Administrator’s Garden, and Lingering Garden represent the four major Suzhou gardens, showcasing Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasty styles, respectively.

Origins and History

Chinese gardens originated in the Qin and Han dynasties, alongside ancient Chinese architecture, but were initially imperial hunting grounds. Earlier rulers had similar areas, but not true gardens. These took the form of tai (platforms), you (pastures), and zhao (ponds).

Emperor Wu of Han expanded Shanglin Yuan into the largest garden ever. It served as a zoo, botanical garden, farm, mine, and military training ground.

The Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties marked China’s second ideological liberation, after the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods. Previously, literati talents served solely political ends. The 300-year chaos of the Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties freed literati, making them an independent class.

Imperial gardens stagnated during this time. Meanwhile, literati, disillusioned by the turmoil, embraced reclusion, cultivating unique theories, spiritual worlds, and garden art.

Taoism rose concurrently, and Buddhism, introduced in the Han Dynasty, peaked. Temple gardens flourished, often in remote locations, opening up scenic areas for future generations.

Gardens peaked in the prosperous Tang Dynasty, displaying a bold, magnificent style. This era represented a zenith in Chinese military, economic, and cultural power. Gardens, poetry, and other cultural outputs reflected this confidence. The largest Tang imperial garden surpassed even the later Forbidden City in size.

The Tang Dynasty boasted advanced flower cultivation, and private gardens began to prioritize landscaping, unlike the simpler, often field-like gardens of the Wei, Jin, and Southern and Northern Dynasties.

During the Song and Yuan dynasties, gardens shifted from concrete to abstract, pursuing artistic conception. This mirrored a broader cultural trend. The Song Dynasty prioritized civil over military matters. Though militarily weaker, its economy and culture thrived. The recreational pursuits of later literati fully developed during the Song Dynasty.

Emperor Huizong of Song, a notable artist, pioneered the use of Taihu stones for garden rockeries.

The Southern Song Dynasty saw a rise in public gardens, allowing ordinary people to experience garden aesthetics.

The Yuan Dynasty’s key contribution was establishing Yuan Dadu, Beijing’s predecessor. The formation of Beijing’s core, the water supply from the Western Hills, and the Grand Canal project were all completed during the Yuan Dynasty, laying the groundwork for Ming and Qing imperial gardens.

The Ming and Qing dynasties shaped China’s enduring political and economic landscape. Beijing became the political center, while Jiangnan served as the economic and cultural hub.

While the north of the Ming Dynasty faced frequent wars, Jiangnan prospered. Garden development in Jiangnan remained largely unaffected by political instability.

In the late Ming and early Qing dynasties, Yangzhou, a Grand Canal hub, thrived on commerce, particularly the salt trade. Yangzhou’s gardens were then the most famous, though few survive. Because the owners were primarily merchants, these gardens lacked the prestige of literati gardens. Yangzhou declined with Qing salt reforms and the rise of maritime transport.

During the Qing Dynasty, Beijing’s imperial gardens flourished, reaching their peak.

Humble Administrator’s Garden (Zhuozheng Yuan)

Built between 1509 and 1530, during the mid-Ming Dynasty’s Zhengde era, the imperial court was declining while the common people enjoyed a period of economic and cultural prosperity. The strict frugality of Zhu Yuanzhang (the first Ming emperor) had faded, allowing for lavish gardens like this.

Wang Xianchen, the garden’s creator, retired from official service in his 40s. He transformed a dilapidated temple, old residences, and low-lying land into his private garden.

Zhuozheng Yuan is the largest private garden. It currently covers 78 mu (about 13 acres), though it was originally 100-200 mu. Most Suzhou gardens are under 20 mu.

The garden’s name comes from the Jin Dynasty’s “Idle Dwelling Fu,” suggesting that “clumsy” tasks like gardening are the true path. This reclusive philosophy influenced later private gardens.

Wang Xianchen is a controversial figure. His career declined in middle age, including a prison stint. While praised by literati like Tang Yin and Wen Zhengming, official records paint him as corrupt, suggesting his imprisonment stemmed from graft or factionalism, and that he used family influence to seize the temple.

Zhuozheng Yuan’s fame is largely due to Wen Zhengming’s writings and paintings, especially the “Thirty-One Scenes of Zhuozheng Yuan.” These records suggest the original garden was more like a vegetable garden, with the intricate landscapes appearing during the Qing Dynasty.

Wang Xianchen died in his 70s, and his son reportedly gambled away the garden in one night.

During the Qing Dynasty, Zhuozheng Yuan was famous and often housed Suzhou’s highest-ranking official. Some believe Cao Xueqin’s family (author of Dream of the Red Chamber) bought part of the garden, inspiring the Grand View Garden’s setting.

During the Xianfeng era, the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom occupied Suzhou, and the Loyal King, Li Xiucheng, made Zhuozheng Yuan his palace, even expanding it. After the rebellion, Li Hongzhang, shocked by its extravagance, protected and maintained it. It then returned to being an administrative site, preserving the garden’s layout.

Key areas:

East Garden: The largest (almost half the area), with a rustic landscape and scattered buildings.
Central Garden: The main, most exquisite scenic area. It centers on the Distant Fragrance Hall (Yuanxiang Tang), facing north to a “one pond, three mountains” layout. This design imitates the mythical mountains of Penglai, Yingzhou, and Fangzhang, a pattern originating in Qin Shi Huang’s gardens. The Little Flying Rainbow (Xiao Feihong), a covered bridge, is another highlight.
West Garden: For entertainment – music, flowers, and mandarin ducks. A pavilion, “With Whom Shall I Sit?” (Yu Shui Tong Zuo Xuan), is named after Su Dongpo’s line: “With whom shall I sit? The bright moon, the cool breeze, and me.”

Zhuozheng Yuan, and similar gardens, greatly influenced later ones, making them famous for literary associations. Suzhou’s flourishing culture and abundant literati were key. To balance opportunities, the court restricted southern literati’s access to officialdom. Those excluded poured their energy into garden art, leading social trends.

Late Ming garden development also solidified construction methods. Imitating natural landscapes with endless variations, architectural design broke free from limited functional building types, elevating classical architecture.

Lingering Garden (Liu Yuan)

Built during the Ming Dynasty’s Wanli era, Liu Yuan is the newest of the major gardens.

At 35 mu, it’s second only to Zhuozheng Yuan, and much larger than others in Suzhou.

Three treasures:

Cloud-Capped Peak (Guanyun Feng): A Taihu stone, said to be from Emperor Huizong of Song’s palace.
Five-Peak Immortal Hall (Wufeng Xian Guan): Built with nanmu wood, it’s one of only two civilian nanmu halls. Its construction date and the reason for using restricted nanmu are unknown.
Rain-Clear Sky Painting (Yu Guo Tian Qing Tu): A stone with natural marble patterns resembling a painting.

Liu Yuan’s spatial planning is exceptional; its artistic merit is arguably the highest among Suzhou gardens.

In the Ming Dynasty, it was called East Garden (Dong Yuan). The builder, Xu Taishi, a fourth-rank official like Wang Xianchen, was also an architect. He served as chief of construction in the Ministry of Works, overseeing repairs to Cining Palace and the imperial tombs.

East Garden wasn’t actually east of Suzhou’s old city. Xu Taishi’s residence was larger; the residential area was west, and the garden area to the east was named East Garden.

Unlike Zhuozheng Yuan, Liu Yuan’s location and layout are largely unchanged, preserving the original design.

After the Xu family declined, East Garden was briefly abandoned. During the Qing Dynasty, a new owner, surnamed Liu, renamed it Hanbi Villa (Hanbi Shanzhuang), adding many Taihu stones.

This new owner was a literatus and avid collector of unusual stones. Cloud-Capped Peak was then just outside the northeast corner. Unable to acquire the land, he built a structure to admire it from across the wall.

Hanbi Villa was one of the few Suzhou gardens to survive the Taiping Rebellion. Afterward, Sheng Xuanhuai’s father bought it. The Sheng family adopted the previous owner’s surname, Liu, changing it to a homophone (留, “linger”). They also incorporated Cloud-Capped Peak by expanding the northeast corner. This explains the mostly square Liu Yuan’s protruding northeast corner. The garden we see today largely reflects the Sheng family’s influence.

Sheng Xuanhuai was a key figure in the late Qing Dynasty’s Self-Strengthening Movement and a prominent industrialist. He founded Tianjin University and several Jiaotong Universities. As Li Hongzhang’s right-hand man, he proposed merchant ships to fund the navy and a telegraph industry, both adopted by Li. Sheng also took advantage of struggles between Li Hongzhang and Zuo Zongtang to crush Hu Xueyan’s business empire.

Sheng Xuanhuai’s industries were vast, including shipping, telecommunications, textiles, education, banking, mining, and public welfare institutions like libraries. He also founded the Red Cross Society of China.

Lion Grove Garden (Shizi Lin)

Built in 1341, during the late Yuan Dynasty, Shizi Lin began as a Zen temple garden, a place for a high monk’s lectures, built by his disciple.

The name “Shizi Lin” (Lion Grove) honors the monk’s lineage. He was a disciple of a monk from Lion Rock (Shizi Yan) on Tianmu Mountain. “Lion” also symbolizes a high monk in Buddhism.

It wasn’t a traditional temple, lacking typical Buddhist buildings. It remained primarily a garden, not emphasizing ritual.

Ming Dynasty painter Ni Zan visited, helped plan, and painted “Shizi Lin Tu,” giving it cultural prestige.

Yao Guangxiao, the monk Daoyan, Zhu Di’s advisor, was from Suzhou and reportedly Shizi Lin’s abbot. He advised Zhu Di to seize the capital and oversaw Beijing’s construction and the Yongle Encyclopedia’s compilation. Yao Guangxiao remained a monk, refusing official positions. He later wrote Dao Yu Lu, criticizing the popular Neo-Confucianism of Cheng and Zhu.

Until the Qing Dynasty, Shizi Lin was a semi-garden, semi-temple. Emperor Qianlong, who loved it, imitated it in the imperial gardens and inscribed the True Delight Pavilion (Zhenqu Ting), giving it royal favor.

During the Republic of China period, the Bei family bought and renovated Shizi Lin. I.M. Pei spent part of his childhood here.

I.M. Pei is a world-renowned architect. His masterpieces include the Louvre Pyramid, the Suzhou Museum, and the Museum of Islamic Art. He deeply understood cross-cultural architectural art. He famously said, “Let light do the design.”

Canglang Pavilion (Surging Wave Pavilion)

Canglang Pavilion is the oldest documented garden, built in the early Northern Song Dynasty. At that time, the Northern Song hadn’t unified the country, and Suzhou was under Wuyue Kingdom rule.

The builder was a Wuyue military governor, who used it as a private villa.

During the Northern Song Dynasty, the literatus Su Shunqin, facing career setbacks and demotion, came to Suzhou. He bought the garden for 40,000 coins, building Canglang Pavilion. With a literatus’ endorsement, its fame soared.

During the Southern Song Dynasty, anti-Jin general Han Shizhong lived here, renaming it Han Garden.

From the Yuan Dynasty onward, Canglang Pavilion was abandoned. Monks built a temple, which lasted through the Ming Dynasty.

In Kangxi’s 23rd year, the Jiangsu governor built the Su Gong Shrine (Su Gong祠) on the site to commemorate Su Shunqin. Canglang Pavilion became a public building.

In Kangxi’s 34th year, another governor restored Canglang Pavilion nearby. The original was a waterside pavilion; the restoration was a mountain pavilion, built on a rockery. The garden’s focus shifted from lake to mountain.

Canglang Pavilion was mostly destroyed during the Taiping Rebellion. Today’s version is a large-scale Tongzhi era reconstruction, based on the mountain pavilion. The Ming Dynasty appearance is lost.

Canglang Pavilion’s influence lies in its name and spirit. Su Shunqin took “Canglang” from a short song: “When the waters of Canglang are clear, I can wash my hat tassels. When the waters of Canglang are muddy, I can wash my feet.” This reflects a scholar-official’s attitude: serve in enlightened times, cultivate oneself in dark ones.

Su Shunqin invited Ouyang Xiu to write an essay, and Ouyang Xiu wrote: “The clear breeze and bright moon are priceless, but sadly they only sold for 40,000 coins.” Song Dynasty officials were well-paid; 40,000 coins were about two months’ salary for a county magistrate. Ouyang Xiu’s words further elevated the garden’s fame.

Master of the Nets Garden (Wangshi Yuan)

Wangshi Yuan was built during the Southern Song Dynasty. The literatus Shi Zhengzhi built a residence, Wanjuan Tang (Ten Thousand Volumes Hall). A small garden with water, Yuyin (Fisherman’s Retreat), was Wangshi Yuan’s predecessor.

During the Qianlong era, retired official Song Zongyuan bought Wanjuan Tang and, inspired by Yuyin, renamed it Wangshi Yuan. Wangshi means “fisherman” in ancient Chinese.

Wangshi Yuan changed hands several times and was extensively renovated during the Guangxu era, resulting in its current form.

During the Republic of China period, Zhang Zuolin gave the garden as a birthday gift to his teacher.

During the War of Resistance Against Japan, Zhang Daqian and his brother, Zhang Shanzi, lived in Wangshi Yuan for four years. Zhang Shanzi, famous for painting tigers, actually kept tigers in the garden. He painted a “Flying Tiger” for Claire Chennault, the American pilot, and Chennault’s squadron became the Flying Tigers (though the exact timeline is unclear).

Wangshi Yuan’s most famous scene is Dianchunyi (Hall of Late Spring), a small, independent courtyard and study in the northwest corner, with a distinct Ming style. “Dian” means “behind,” Dianchun means late spring (peony season), and “yi” means small house. The name means “a small study in the peony season.”

In 1978, during the establishment of US-China diplomatic relations, a delegation of American museums visited. A Chinese-American consultant from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, having collected Ming-style furniture, asked Chinese garden master Chen Congzhou how to display it. Chen recommended replicating Dianchunyi. Due to diplomatic factors, the cooperation proceeded smoothly. This marked the first appearance of a Chinese garden in a foreign museum, taking garden culture global.

Even now, the Metropolitan Museum of Art is the only place to see a complete Ming-style garden. Because of the brief Tongguang Restoration during the late Qing Dynasty, most gardens were renovated in the more elaborate Qing style. Ming-style gardens have a rustic, scholarly atmosphere.

Summary

Key features:

Zhuozheng Yuan: Largest, most luxurious, Taiping Heavenly Kingdom’s Loyal King’s palace.
Liu Yuan: Newest, best preserved, highest artistic achievement, Sheng Xuanhuai.
Shizi Lin: Rockeries, Qianlong’s inscription, Yao Guangxiao and I.M. Pei.
Canglang Pavilion: Oldest, literati spirit, Su Shunqin and Ouyang Xiu.
Wangshi Yuan: Zhang Shanzi painted tigers, Dianchunyi went global.

4 Days 5 Nights in Beijing

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Sun, 22 Sep 2019 18:03:29 +0000

This is a long travelogue, around 10,000 words. Feel free to just skim the pictures if you’re not up for reading it all.

This was my third trip to Beijing. The first time, I was too young to remember much. The second time, I skipped the historical sites and went straight to the Military Museum. This time, I finally explored the city, and it left a lasting impression.

Before leaving, I pictured the cockroaches in my house, hiding in every nook and cranny, planning a five-day party the moment I was gone. I opened my train ticket, my finger hovering over the refund button, a sly smile on my face. Suddenly, the house was filled with tiny wails and cries of despair: “No, no, no!”, “Stop–”, “Oh s**t!”… One particularly dramatic roach even did a front flip, splitting its cookie crumb in two.

Enough of that. I left anyway; let them have their fun.

I went straight to the high-speed rail station after work and arrived in Beijing that night. It was surprisingly quick, just 4.5 hours from Hangzhou. The trip was 4 days and 5 nights, during the Mid-Autumn Festival. The weather was perfect, with no rain during the day.

Day 1: The Central Axis and East Side of the Forbidden City

Beijing City

Before Emperor Yongle moved the capital to Beijing, he had a grand vision for the city. Beijing was designed with the Forbidden City at its heart, divided into four layers:

The innermost layer is the Palace City, the Forbidden City, now the Palace Museum. It runs from the Meridian Gate (Wumen) in the south to the Gate of Divine Prowess (Shenwumen) in the north. The “Zi” (紫) in “Zijincheng” (Forbidden City) refers to the Purple Star, or Polaris. Because Polaris appears fixed in the sky, with other stars revolving around it, it symbolizes the emperor. The “Jin” (禁) means forbidden, heavily guarded, and off-limits. Ming and Qing law decreed that commoners trespassing into the Imperial City would be caned 100 times and exiled 3,000 li. Those trespassing into the Palace City faced hanging.
Outside the Palace City is the Imperial City, stretching from Tian’anmen in the south to Di’anmen in the north. The Imperial City housed most of those who served the emperor.
Further out is the Inner City, roughly the area of today’s Beijing Subway Line 2. That’s why most Line 2 station names are gates (“men”). This was where ordinary people could live; even princes and ministers’ residences were limited to this area.
Finally, there’s the Outer City. Initially a small area on the south side, it expanded as the city grew.

Beijing is laid out along a central axis running through these four layers. The Forbidden City, and even the dragon throne in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, sits on this axis, emphasizing “centeredness” and “righteousness.” The grid-like road network of modern Beijing is a legacy of Emperor Yongle’s design.

The Gates of the Forbidden City

The Palace Museum entrance is at Tian’anmen. Going inward, you pass through Duanmen Gate and the Meridian Gate (Wumen) before entering the Forbidden City. Outside Tian’anmen, there were two more gates: Daqingmen and Zhengyangmen. Daqingmen, called Damingmen during the Ming Dynasty, was the “Gate of the Nation.” It was demolished during the construction of Tian’anmen Square. Zhengyangmen, also known as Qianmen (Front Gate), was mainly for defense. It once had a barbican and arrow tower, but only the gate tower and arrow tower remain; the barbican was torn down during the Republican period.

On either side of Tian’anmen are pairs of stone hou (a mythical beast) on huabiao (ornamental columns). The inner ones are called Wang Jun Chu (Looking for the Emperor to Go Out), meaning the emperor should go out and understand his people’s suffering. The outer ones are called Wang Jun Gui (Looking for the Emperor to Return), meaning the emperor should return and govern diligently.

Emperor: What more do you want?!

The gate opening of Duanmen

The Meridian Gate appears to have three openings but actually has five. From afar, you only see three, but two more are hidden on the sides. This, like the bridges over the Golden Water River, reflects a strict hierarchy. The central gate was for the emperor, though the empress could use it once during the imperial wedding, and the top three scholars in the imperial examination could use it once when leaving. The two side gates were for imperial relatives. The outermost gates were for officials, civil on the left and military on the right (from the emperor’s perspective, facing south). The Hall of Literary Glory (Wenhua Dian) on the east and the Hall of Military Eminence (Wuying Dian) on the west – the entire layout of the Forbidden City’s outer court followed this “civil on the left, military on the right” principle.

The Meridian Gate has walls on three sides

Looking back from inside the Meridian Gate, you can see Duanmen and Tian’anmen’s gate openings. Further out is the Monument to the People’s Heroes. If Daqingmen still existed, you’d see its gate openings, and Zhengyangmen’s, too. Five gates in a line – a powerful symbol of the emperor’s authority.

After the Meridian Gate is the Gate of Supreme Harmony (Taihemen). Although just a gate, it’s grander than most Forbidden City buildings. It caught fire during Emperor Guangxu’s reign, coinciding with his wedding. Protocol dictated the empress pass through it. Someone suggested a temporary paper gate, so realistic that palace staff couldn’t tell the difference. This paper gate was used for six years until the real gate was rebuilt.

The bronze lions in front of the Gate of Supreme Harmony

The Outer Court

The square between the Gate of Supreme Harmony and the Hall of Supreme Harmony (Taihedian) is the Forbidden City’s most open space, yet it has no trees. This grand, artificial landscape was designed to create a sense of awe and pressure on officials attending court, demonstrating the emperor’s majesty.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony is the Forbidden City’s most prestigious building, over 2,200 square meters, supported by 72 nanmu wood pillars. Its roof is the highest level in ancient architecture: a double-eaved, hipped roof. This type of roof, with its curved slopes, was usually reserved for the emperor. Double eaves were also forbidden for commoners.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony has burned down four times, during the reigns of Yongle, Jiajing, Wanli, and Kangxi. Being made of wood, it was highly susceptible to fire. The first two fires were caused by lightning; the latter two spread from elsewhere.

The fire during Jiajing’s reign is interesting. During reconstruction, Jiajing and his ministers discussed the cause and prevention. Without knowledge of lightning rods, they blamed the name. The original name, Fengtian Dian (奉天殿), had the characters written vertically, with “Feng” (奉) above “Tian” (天), potentially displeasing Heaven. Someone suggested writing it horizontally, enlarging “Tian.” Jiajing’s response: “Not elegant” – basically, “ugly”! They renamed it Huangji Dian (皇极殿), with “Huang” (皇) on top. The name Taihe Dian (太和殿) came during the Qing Dynasty.

Jiajing: Make the logo bigger, follow your idea, make it international, when can I see it?

Besides the name change, many fire prevention measures were taken, mostly based on feng shui. The only practical measure was placing large water vats throughout the city.

A water vat in the Imperial Garden

The Hall of Supreme Harmony was mainly for grand ceremonies, like enthronements, weddings, and military expeditions. However, due to fires and other reasons, few ceremonies actually occurred here. Only half of the 14 Ming emperors were enthroned here. Only six emperors (Zhengde, Wanli, Shunzhi, Kangxi, Tongzhi, and Guangxu) held their weddings (first marriages of young emperors) here. Only Kangxi held a military expedition ceremony here, before fighting Galdan. Emperors Zhengde and Jiajing went on expeditions, but skipped the formalities, ignoring ministers’ objections. Emperor Zhengde suffered a defeat at the Tumu Crisis.

East of the Hall of Supreme Harmony is Tiren Ge (Hall of Embodied Benevolence), a quiet area with few visitors.

During Kangxi’s reign, the Boxue Hongru examination was held here. This was a special talent selection, outside the regular imperial examination. Talented individuals were recommended nationwide. The Boxue Hongru exam was much better than the regular one: candidates had tables and chairs, no time limit, candles to continue after dark, and a luxurious dinner (400 taels of silver per table, compared to a county magistrate’s annual salary of ~60 taels). Fifty out of 130+ candidates were admitted, treated like top imperial examination scholars.

The Hall of Central Harmony (Zhonghedian) behind it is square with a round, gilded roof, reflecting the “round heaven, square earth” worldview. At times, the roof reflects sunlight onto the Erlang Temple, which people attributed to divine manifestation.

The Hall of Central Harmony served as the emperor’s resting place before ceremonies and hosted small banquets and meetings. Before the Ming Dynasty fell, Emperor Chongzhen’s last meeting was held here, where ministers offered little useful advice.

The Outer Court’s last building is the Hall of Preserving Harmony (Baohedian). Emperors Shunzhi and Kangxi lived here. “Hall” (dian) signifies state affairs; “palace” (gong), family affairs. Shunzhi initially lived in the Palace of Heavenly Purity (Qianqinggong), but it was in disrepair, so he stayed in the Hall of Preserving Harmony, renaming it a palace (Weiyu Gong, then Qingning Gong during Kangxi’s stay).

I didn’t get good pictures of the Hall of Central Harmony and the Hall of Preserving Harmony. This area is very crowded. The emperors watched officials shout “Long live the Emperor.” What would they think of today’s tourists?

Emperor: Guards!!!

The Inner Court

The Gate of Heavenly Purity (Qianqingmen) divides the Outer Court’s Three Halls and the Inner Court’s Three Palaces. The Palace of Heavenly Purity area forms a courtyard, including the Palace of Heavenly Purity (Qianqinggong), the Hall of Union and Peace (Jiaotaidian), and the Palace of Earthly Tranquility (Kunninggong). Originally, these were the emperor’s residence, a place for rituals, and the empress’s residence, respectively. But starting from the Inner Court, they often weren’t used as intended. Yongzheng moved to the Hall of Mental Cultivation (Yangxindian), the Palace of Earthly Tranquility became a place for sacrifices, and Cixi lived in the Western Six Palaces. Rules were often bent.

The Palace of Heavenly Purity has a plaque reading “Zhengda Guangming” (Justice and Honor). Starting with Yongzheng, to reduce infighting, a secret succession system was used. The emperor wrote a will, kept one copy, and hid another behind the plaque. After his death, the copies were compared for succession.

I took a magical photo in the Palace of Earthly Tranquility. The old-style glass reflects colorful light. The interior is dim, and the glass reflects the sky with stunning colors.

The sundial in front of the Palace of Earthly Tranquility

Behind the Three Palaces is the Imperial Garden, which is smaller than Prince Gong’s private garden. Of course, this is unfair; the imperial leisure areas included the Summer Palace, Yuanmingyuan, etc.

Heshen: I lost.

Scenes in the Imperial Garden

Exiting the Imperial Garden, you reach the Gate of Divine Prowess (Shenwumen), the Forbidden City’s north gate. The imperial family’s female members used this gate for outings; the emperor used the Meridian Gate, and they’d meet later.

The Gate of Divine Prowess was previously Xuanwumen. Traditional culture associates four divine beasts with directions: Green Dragon (east), White Tiger (west), Vermilion Bird (south), and Black Tortoise (Xuanwu, north). Xuanwumen often referred to a north gate. To avoid Emperor Kangxi’s taboo name, Xuanye (玄烨), it became Shenwumen (神武门).

Looking back at the palace walls from Shenwumen

Vents in the wall for ventilation and wood preservation

Looking back from outside the Gate of Divine Prowess

East Side of the Forbidden City

That’s the central axis. We then headed south from the Inner Court’s eastern part, visiting the Six Eastern Palaces. I’m not familiar with imperial harem history, and I can’t remember which concubine lived where. The most memorable was the popular Yanxi Palace, with a water palace. I initially thought it was a fire ruin, but the guide explained it was unfinished. Yanxi Palace had multiple fires. Consort Jin (or possibly Empress Dowager Longyu) commissioned a Western-style crystal palace, to suppress fire and enjoy fish. It had a pool with goldfish and a glass floor. Due to financial constraints, it was halted.

If completed, the underwater level would have resembled modern ocean parks.

South of the Six Eastern Palaces is the Archery Pavilion (Jianting). Jianting’s spacious interior was used for archery and martial arts practice, and hosted military examinations.

Weapons and armor of the Eight Banners army were displayed inside Jianting.

Saddle

Continuing south, east of Xiehe Gate, is the Forbidden City’s most tranquil area. The Wenhua Dian complex is hidden behind trees. The two main buildings are Wenhua Dian (Hall of Literary Glory) and Wenyuan Ge (Hall of Literary Profundity).

Looking back at Xiehe Gate

The tree-lined path east of Xiehe Gate

After the Three Great Halls burned down, Wenhua Dian temporarily served as the emperor’s office. After their reconstruction, it became the crown prince’s office. Therefore, the roof couldn’t use yellow glazed tiles and was downgraded to green. Emperor Jiajing later converted Wenhua Dian for his own use, hence the yellow roof today.

Wenhua Dian hosted “Jingyan” (Classics Mat lectures), where Grand Scholars taught the emperor Confucian classics, shaping his worldview. This was crucial for young emperors. Zhang Juzheng taught young Wanli, and Weng Tonghe taught young Guangxu here.

For Guangxu’s first lesson, Weng Tonghe taught calligraphy (“Tianxia Taiping, Zhengda Guangming” - Peace under Heaven, Justice and Honor). Guangxu got bored, so Weng switched to storytelling, using Zhang Juzheng’s “Dijian Tushuo” (Illustrated Mirror for Emperors). Guangxu’s interest waned. Weng then made him read aloud, repeatedly. Guangxu refused. Weng criticized him harshly, and Guangxu walked out. Scolded by Cixi, he returned. As he grew older, Guangxu became more cooperative and respected his teacher, consulting him on important decisions.

Guangxu: Pfft~ I’m still a baby.

East of Wenhua Dian is Chuanxin Dian (Hall of Passing on the Mind), enshrining figures like Fuxi, Nuwa, Shennong, Xuanyuan, Yao, Shun, Yu, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius. This building appeared during the Qing Dynasty, demonstrating its acceptance of Han culture.

To the north, Wenyuan Ge looks ancient. It was the Forbidden City’s imperial library, once holding important classics like the Siku Quanshu (Complete Library in Four Sections).

Day 2: Inner Court - East and West

Inner Court - East Side

After entering the Meridian Gate, we headed straight for Huangji Dian, a “city within a city” known as the Inner Court’s Outer Eastern Road. The Nine Dragon Screen stands before the courtyard gate.

Huangji Gate, facing the Nine Dragon Screen

The courtyard mirrors the Forbidden City’s central axis. Qianlong built this garden for his retirement. He abdicated after 60 years on the throne, becoming Emperor Emeritus, honoring his promise not to exceed Kangxi’s 61-year reign.

Qianlong: Buy low, sell high, and quit while you’re ahead~

The dragon throne in Huangji Dian. Qianlong’s retirement certainly didn’t cramp his style. This photo practically has its own soundtrack – you can almost hear the theme song of “The Qianlong Dynasty”! Ah, Adam Cheng!

Huangji Dian’s courtyard now houses the Palace Museum’s Treasure Gallery. I’m no expert, but these lavish artworks were instantly captivating.

8 jade artifacts

8 gold artifacts

Behind the courtyard lies the rest and recreation area. Changyin Ge (Pavilion of Pleasant Sounds), the Forbidden City’s largest theater, stands out. It has three levels, with Qianlong watching performances from the opposing Yue Shi Lou (Tower for Viewing). Actors used vertical passages to move between levels, appearing from below or descending from above.

Leshou Tang (Hall of Joyful Longevity), once Cixi’s residence, has a subdued, aged feel compared to the vibrant Inner Court’s Three Palaces.

The walls display calligraphy and paintings gifted by ministers, reflecting her power. She also resided in a Leshou Tang at the Summer Palace.

At the backyard’s north end is a well. Nobody dared drink Forbidden City well water. During Yongle Emperor’s reign, bored eunuchs and palace maids sometimes formed unofficial couples. Disgusted by seeing one such couple, Yongle ordered the execution of all paired eunuchs and maids, throwing them into the wells. The number of bodies in the Forbidden City’s wells remains unknown.

Zhu Di: Bro, it’s fine! Drink up!

Consort Zhen, Guangxu’s favorite, famously died in a well. Cixi arranged Guangxu’s marriage to Empress Longyu, but Guangxu disliked her, finding her plain and unremarkable. He favored the lively and intelligent Consort Zhen. She embraced Western ideas and supported Guangxu’s reforms, angering Cixi. When the Eight-Nation Alliance invaded, Cixi fled, ordering Consort Zhen thrown into the well behind Huangji Dian before leaving. The well was renamed Zhenfei Jing (Consort Zhen Well). Guangxu was reportedly never the same, withdrawing from the world.

Leaving the Inner Court’s Outer Eastern Road, we returned to Shenwumen (Gate of Divine Prowess). We climbed the Forbidden City wall and walked the eastern section. Taihe Dian (Hall of Supreme Harmony) clearly stands as the tallest building, its roof style distinctly superior. Most lower buildings feature hip roofs with small vertical gables.

Several views on the city wall, the building in the picture is not Taihe Dian

Northeast Corner Tower

We also photographed a small courtyard in a restricted area, resembling the workshop from the documentary “Masters in Forbidden City.” My wife and I agreed it was likely the same place.

Forbidden City - West Side

After descending, we passed Wenhua Dian and crossed Taihemen Square to reach Wuying Dian (Hall of Military Eminence).

Taihemen Square

Despite the Forbidden City’s “literature on the left, military on the right” design, Wuying Dian primarily served literary purposes. Except for the Ming-Qing transition, when Li Zicheng and Dorgon handled affairs here, it mostly functioned as the royal publishing house.

South of Wuying Dian lies Jiyongchu (literally “Exciting Bucket Place”), the ancient fire brigade’s location. The term “fire brigade” existed during the Guangxu period. They used a syringe-like device called a “jitong” (exciting bucket) to spray water several meters. Wuying Dian’s fire brigade was the earliest dedicated firefighting organization, a precursor to modern fire brigades.

Jitong

Leaving Wuying Dian, we bypassed the Three Great Halls to reach Cining Gong (Palace of Compassion and Tranquility), the residence of empress dowagers and imperial concubines – much grander than the concubines’ quarters. A Buddhist hall stood behind Cining Gong, reflecting the empress dowagers’ faith.

The second courtyard of Cining Gong

The western building of the second courtyard of Cining Gong

South of Cining Gate is a long, narrow garden, almost as large as the Imperial Garden, but less refined and dynamic, feeling stiff and monotonous – more like a park for seniors than a garden.

Empress Dowager: Stay fit, don’t give me any of that fancy stuff.

No direct path connects Cining Gong to the Six Western Palaces; we detoured past Yangxin Dian (Hall of Mental Cultivation), which was closed for renovation. We did see the Grand Council (Junjichu) in front. Kangxi, a dedicated scholar, established Nan Shufang (South Study) near Yangxin Dian to discuss military affairs, rituals, calligraphy, painting, literature, and even mathematics. During Yongzheng’s reign, the emperor moved to Yangxin Dian and established the Grand Council, diminishing Nan Shufang’s role.

Kangxi: You can’t even begin to imagine the life of a top student.

We didn’t thoroughly explore the Inner Court’s Outer Western Road and the Six Western Palaces due to closing time and our aching feet. Over 60,000 steps in two days is astronomical for two homebodies.

Day 3: Prince Gong’s Mansion, Temple of Confucius, and Imperial College

Prince Gong’s Mansion is significant. Guides and apps claim it witnessed the Qing Dynasty’s rise and fall—half its history.

Residential Area

As a former prince’s residence, it was built to a lower standard than the imperial palace. It uses green glazed tiles, but the courtyard layout mirrors the Forbidden City’s central axis.

Yin’an Hall, at the center, is less grand than palace buildings, but its name is significant. A prince’s main hall usually wasn’t named, just called “main hall.” So, genuine mansions typically lack plaques. Yin’an Hall, also called Yinluan Hall, rivals the Hall of Supreme Harmony (Jinluan Hall), reflecting Prince Gong Yixin’s peak power.

Front of Yin’an Hall

It was crowded, so I photographed it from the side, revealing Yin’an Hall’s architectural style and delicate gable decoration. Regulations allowed princes’ residences green glazed tiles and hip-and-gable roofs for main gates, halls, and sleeping halls. Officials were restricted to gray-black tiles and couldn’t use hip-and-gable roofs. Thus, Heshen, regardless of his power, couldn’t use this architecture.

West gable wall of Yin’an Hall

Yin’an Hall, destroyed by fire in the early Republic, was rebuilt in 2008, making it quite new. Liang Sicheng aided its restoration. The repair team initially only had a floor plan, lacking details, until they found Liang’s detailed records. He’d documented the mansion while participating in renovations when it served as Fu Jen Catholic University’s campus.

The residential area has three sections: east, middle, and west. In Heshen’s time, the middle section was the main hall, used for major events. The east housed Princess Gurun Hexiao, Heshen’s daughter-in-law, favored by Emperor Qianlong, who married her to Heshen’s son, Fengshen Yinde. The west was Heshen’s residence.

North of the west section is Xijinzhai. During Prince Gong Yixin’s time, it held Lu Ji’s famous Jin Dynasty calligraphy, “Pingfu Tie.”

“Pingfu Tie,” I’m no calligraphy expert

“Xi” in Xijinzhai derives from “Ci,” meaning bestowed treasures. “Jin” refers to the Jin Dynasty masterpiece. The west side hall, Er’erzhai, implies that compared to “Pingfu Tie,” these buildings and treasures are insignificant!

Yixin: My precious!

Xijinzhai, though remote, is the mansion’s most luxurious building. Heshen called it Jialetang. Its exterior is plain, but the interior is stunning. Heshen used designs exceeding his rank, making his residence grander than Princess Gurun Hexiao’s. For instance, golden nanmu pillars, reserved for the emperor, became a major crime during his house raid.

A long, two-story building, Houzhao Building, separates the residence and garden. Houzhao rooms are at the back of traditional siheyuan courtyards, serving as houses and the back wall. A multi-story Houzhao room is a Houzhao Building.

The secret of this Houzhao Building is on its north side. From the garden, each second-floor window has unique shapes and carvings.

This was Heshen’s personal indexing system. Shapes represented treasure types. Walking under the eaves, he’d know what was hidden behind each room by the window. He reportedly often strolled there with a cryptic smile.

Heshen: My precious! × N

Qianlong tolerated Heshen’s greed because he saw him as capable and loyal. Compared to ambitious past ministers, greed seemed minor. Heshen, a miser who hoarded wealth, served as Qianlong’s piggy bank. Jiaqing broke it open immediately after Qianlong’s death.

Garden Area

Three paths lead from the residence to the garden. The middle one goes through the Western Gate, built during Prince Gong Yixin’s time. It’s said to be one of only three Western-style gates in Beijing then, and the garden’s only Western-style structure.

The garden’s theme is fortune (福, fu). A bat pond lies at the Western Gate’s entrance, a bat hall at the northern end, and bat patterns adorn many buildings. The garden also holds a stele with Kangxi’s “fu” character, written for Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang and later given to Heshen by Qianlong.

The garden’s lake and bat pond connect to Shichahai, a privilege reserved for princes. Ministers’ ponds couldn’t connect externally. East of the bat pond is Qinqiu Pavilion, built by Yixin for his favorite concubine. Its floor has a winding channel for a “floating cup” game, a Liubei Pavilion. It was my first time seeing a real “Qu Shui Liu Shang.”

The garden’s theater is unique, being China’s only fully indoor one. Its beams and pillars are painted with wisteria, appearing somewhat odd now. Yixin prepared it for Cixi, who always watched operas outdoors. He mimicked the outdoor setting inside to cater to her habits.

South of the lake, on the west side, is Miaoxiang Pavilion, oddly shaped. After Prince Gong helped Cixi gain power, she sidelined him. He built this pavilion, resembling her ceremonial hat, to vent his anger, occasionally stepping on it.

Cixi: Why the sudden headaches?

In the southwest corner is a small mountain god temple, worshipping hedgehogs, weasels, foxes, and snakes—common animals then revered as gods. Nearby is a small Dragon King temple. Heshen, advised by a feng shui master that this spot was the garden’s water level and dragon’s location, built it for worship.

Temple of Confucius

We left Prince Gong’s Mansion for the Temple of Confucius and the Imperial College, adjacent attractions with a single ticket.

I examined the door studs of Dacheng Gate at the Temple of Confucius. Originally for fixing, preventing wood warping, they became linked to status in the Qing Dynasty. Their shape and number were restricted; commoners couldn’t use them freely. Odd numbers are yang, even numbers yin. Nine, the largest yang number, represents imperial authority (e.g., Nine-Five Supremacy, Nine-Dragon Wall). Doors directly linked to the emperor used 9 rows and 9 columns of studs (81 total).

Looking back at my Forbidden City photos, a missing stud (lower left) shows they penetrate the door panel. This photo shows Xihe Gate, leading to Wuying Hall. Though a side gate, it maintains the highest standard.

Xihe Gate of the Forbidden City, 81 door studs

Dacheng Gate’s studs are identical. Dacheng Hall also reflects the highest architectural standards. The Temple of Confucius’s last major Qing renovation was during the Guangxu period, demonstrating the regime’s acceptance of Confucian culture.

Dacheng Gate of the Temple of Confucius, 81 door studs

The grandeur of Dacheng Hall

Dacheng Hall displays musical instruments like chime bells and stones. Confucianism emphasizes rituals and music, often mentioned together as “Li Beng Yue Huai” (collapse of rituals and music). Though often considered a whole, they are literally two distinct, yet inseparable, concepts in Confucianism.

This set of bronze chime bells is remarkably well-preserved

Chime stones

Imperial College

The adjacent Imperial College, the highest Ming and Qing Dynasty institution of learning, predates the Forbidden City, having been built in the Yuan Dynasty. The glazed archway behind Taixue Gate, China’s only archway dedicated to education, is impressive. Its four pillars represent merit, fame, profit, and wealth. The building features lotus nail carvings, symbolizing “success in successive examinations.”

Glazed archway, excluding the side pillars

Piyong Hall, at the Imperial College’s center, is the world’s only building dedicated to imperial lectures. After Emperor Qianlong, each new emperor lectured here, emphasizing education.

Inside Piyong Hall

Emperor: Listen, and you’ll pass! DM for the PPT.

About to enter Piyong, I was sidetracked by an interesting exhibition on the imperial examination system’s history.

The Imperial Examination System

The ancient talent selection system evolved. “Ju Xiaolian,” often heard in ancient texts, was an assessment in the Han Dynasty’s inspection system. Compared to other systems, the imperial examination better promoted social mobility, a significant improvement.

In the Han Dynasty, special carriages fetched candidates for capital positions. This reminded me of “Gongche Shangshu” (Petition by Scholars), realizing “Gongche” refers to that group of intellectuals.

The Tang Dynasty saw the imperial examination develop, with subdivisions for literature, science, medicine, and martial arts. It even accepted foreigners as officials.

The Song Dynasty pioneered the palace examination and had a relatively complete anti-cheating system. Candidates’ papers were rewritten, and names sealed before being given to examiners, preventing favoritism. Examiners graded papers on a five-level scale: excellent, good, medium, poor, and inferior.

By the Yuan, Ming, and Qing Dynasties, only the Jinshi remained. As the system matured, social mobility slowed. Early Qing saw a higher proportion of officials’ children passing the Jinshi exam than commoners. Kangxi introduced separate papers, with quotas for officials and commoners.

I only knew of the provincial, metropolitan, and palace examinations. But commoners actually faced six stages: child, provincial, metropolitan, palace, court, and Shuguan examinations. The child examination was a qualification. The provincial examination was held in the province, supervised by central officials. Those who passed were Juren; the top scorer was Jieyuan. The metropolitan examination was in Beijing, at the Gongyuan outside the Forbidden City. The top scorer was Huiyuan.

The palace examination tested culture and calligraphy. The Guangge style, a neat small regular script, was used. During a Qianlong-era palace examination, Liu Fenggao kept writing until dark, refusing to hand in his paper. The Minister of Rites, seeing his excellent calligraphy, ordered candles for him. He placed third. Qianlong, finding Liu short and unattractive, tested him with a couplet: “East Qiming, West Chang庚, South Ji North Dou, I am the star-picking hand.” Liu instantly replied: “Spring peony, summer peony, autumn chrysanthemum, winter plum, I am the Tanhualang.”

He looks quite normal in the portrait!

Besides culture and calligraphy, names could change fates. During a Jiajing-era palace examination, two top candidates were Qin Minglei and Wu Qing. Wu Qing was stronger, but Jiajing disliked the name. During a drought, Minglei (sounding like thunder, implying rain) was favored, making him Zhuangyuan. Wu Qing placed third. A limerick satirized this: “Wuqing (heartless) candidate, heartless emperor, Minglei picked up the bargain.”

Only three placed in the top three of the palace examination; the numbers for second and third ranks varied. Different levels had different career prospects. Stopping at the palace examination often meant local assignment, hindering promotion. To get closer to the center, most Jinshi took the Hanlin Academy examination, a graduate school. 90% of Ming Dynasty Grand Secretaries came from the Hanlin Academy, a career fast track. The entrance exam was the court examination. Admitted Jinshi were Shujishi; the top three were exempt.

The Hanlin Academy’s graduation examination was the Shuguan examination. It divided Shujishi into three groups. The first stayed, doing compilation and potentially teaching princes, with fast promotion. Some of the second stayed, others went to the six ministries. The third group returned to the official circle, awaiting employment.

Admission ticket

Imperial examination paper

Leaving the exhibition, it was too late to explore the Imperial College further. The day’s itinerary concluded.

Day 4: Summer Palace

The Summer Palace is more relaxed than the previous days. The historical events here aren’t as dense as at the Forbidden City and Prince Gong’s Mansion; it’s primarily for sightseeing. A perfect, relaxing end to the trip.

I felt a sense of familiarity arriving at the Summer Palace. Tourists from Jiangsu and Zhejiang, like myself, feel right at home. Qianlong, with his Jiangnan obsession, didn’t find six trips to Jiangnan enough. He recreated it at the Summer Palace (then Qingyi Garden). Suzhou Street mimics a Jiangnan water town, Xiequ Garden replicates a Jiangnan garden, and Kunming Lake is a stand-in for Hangzhou’s West Lake.

Cixi adored Suzhou Street. She’d have palace maids and eunuchs play the roles of residents, merchants, and tourists, simulating a real water town.

Palace maids & eunuchs: The Truman Show, take 76, everyone ready, Action!

Longevity Hill

I entered from the North Palace Gate, behind Longevity Hill. Passing Suzhou Street, you’re at the mountain’s peak: the Four Great Regions, a Tibetan Buddhist structure.

Looking up at the Four Great Regions from the north side

It’s unimpressive from the back. But circling to Kunming Lake’s front and re-climbing Longevity Hill, the building’s grandeur emerges. While not as grand as the Forbidden City, it rises with the mountain, creating a natural solemnity.

Paiyun Hall, where Cixi celebrated her birthdays, sits at the mountain’s foot. Emperor Guangxu had to wait in a side hall. Most Qing rulers followed Tibetan Buddhism. Dehui Hall, behind Paiyun Hall, bridges secular and religious authority. Beyond it lies the Buddhist realm.

Buddha: Need a visa? Your human world’s so casual?

Looking up at Dehui Hall and Foxiang Pavilion from Paiyun Hall

The steps are narrow, cramped. Looking up at Foxiang Pavilion from them is striking – the size contrast is dramatic. Turning, you get a panoramic view of Kunming Lake.

Ascending, you see the repeating Buddha statues in Zhongxiangjie and Zhihuihai – a powerful visual. The lower statues’ heads were looted by the Eight-Nation Alliance; the current ones are restorations, hence their new appearance.

Looking up at Zhongxiangjie

Buddha statues on the wall of Zhihuihai

The Four Great Regions, blending imperial and Tibetan Buddhist styles, crowns the peak. Climbing from the front, it evokes the Potala Palace. For a moment, I felt transported to Lhasa.

Descending east, I reached Kunming Lake. Looking back at Longevity Hill, the climb is clearly visible, undeniably solemn and majestic.

Hall of Benevolence and Longevity (RenShouDian) and Grand Theater (DeHeYuan)

Besides the Forbidden City, the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity impressed me most. Cixi, during her regency, favored the Summer Palace. This hall, like the Forbidden City’s Hall of Supreme Harmony, hosted ceremonies and foreign envoys.

Two dragons and two phoenixes flank a bronze qilin. Unusually, the phoenixes are central, a testament to Cixi’s power. The area lacks the Hall of Supreme Harmony’s masculine energy (with its bronze lions), but pines, stones, and bronze ding vessels lend it an air of elder statesmanship.

Elder Statesman: No dog head? Seriously?

Cixi loved opera. My wife says she’d be a homebody today, binge-watching shows.

North of the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity is the Deheyuan Grand Theater. It blows the Forbidden City’s Hall of Changyinge (Sound of Smooth Music) out of the water. Similar style, but vastly upgraded.

The screen wall of the Deheyuan courtyard, sunlight perfectly illuminating the crape myrtle tree.

The Grand Theater of Deheyuan

A corner of the Grand Theater

Cixi didn’t just watch; she made officials join. The Hall of Yile (YiLeDian), opposite Deheyuan, was her viewing platform; the side corridors were for officials. Cixi saw it as a treat, but they didn’t. With no restrooms, officials needing relief had to bribe eunuchs to open a gate, escape via ladder, and follow a small path to the toilet – the “Happy Little Path.”

The side corridors served as officials’ boxes.

Official: I’m sneaking out. If the Old Buddha calls, say I’m here.

Deheyuan has three courtyards. Behind the Hall of Yile is another, used for resting during intermissions.

Garden of Harmonious Interests (XieQuYuan)

The Summer Palace is vast. Coming from Hangzhou, I skipped Kunming Lake’s large expanse. But I discovered a hidden gem: the Garden of Harmonious Interests, in the northeast corner.

It’s a delicate Jiangnan-style garden, a garden within a garden. The architecture, with single-eave, roll-shed, and hip-and-gable roofs, is imperial. This blend of elegance and imperial grandeur is rare in Jiangnan, and truly striking.

The Knowing-Fish Bridge (ZhiYuQiao) is the highlight. It’s low, ideal for fish-watching. Qianlong named it after Zhuangzi and Huizi’s philosophical “debate”: “You’re not a fish; how do you know their joy?”

Qianlong: I just know, alright? Keep it up!

A pond corner, viewed from the Knowing-Fish Bridge

Beautiful Corners

Beyond these, the Summer Palace has secluded, beautiful corners, rarely seen by tourists.

East of Longevity Hill is the Multi-Treasure Glazed Pagoda (DuoBaoLiuLiTa). Its surface, covered in Buddha statues, echoes Longevity Hill’s Hall of the Sea of Wisdom (ZhiHuiHai). Though closed, you can walk around it, getting quite close.

Northeast of the pagoda is the isolated Hall of Tanning (DanNingTang). The Summer Palace’s Rear Lake, more a narrow river, lies north of it. The view south from the north bank offers a unique, tranquil beauty.

A nearby bridge is also distinctive, perfect for photos.

And, as evening approached, the sky filled with cirrus and cirrocumulus clouds – stunning weather!

Beijing Impressions

Accommodation

I stayed in Beijing for four days and five nights. The first three nights were at an Airbnb near Zhangzizhong Road, close to Nanluoguxiang. The room was tiny but cozy, clean, and well-connected. Finding a gem like that takes luck.

You could even glimpse a siheyuan (courtyard house) from the window.

The last two nights were a total bust. Another Airbnb, but it was a bait-and-switch – nothing like the pictures. Dirty and awful. The location was also off, not where it was pinned on the map, and you needed a taxi to reach the subway.

Two takeaways about lodging:

Prioritize location near transit. In cities with solid subway systems, rely on public transport. No need to switch places mid-trip.
If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Rent is market-driven; don’t get your hopes up.

Food

I mostly ate lunch at the sights, grabbing bread to save time. I only got to sample local food in the evenings.

The first night’s dinner sticks with me. After exiting the Forbidden City’s Shenwu Gate, I went west around Jingshan Park, then north into Gongjian Hutong. Deep in the hutong, there’s a restaurant in an old imperial ice cellar. The original ice storage is still there.

Ice was a royal commodity in the Ming and Qing dynasties. Each winter, ice cutters harvested blocks from lakes, hauling them to ice cellars across Beijing. The Ministry of Works oversaw it. Ice cutting was brutal, backbreaking work. It was hereditary; no quitting. The 1.5 chi square blocks fit perfectly into ice chests. Stored for half a year, the ice came out for summer use. It was even a prestigious gift, “awarding ice” to officials.

Ice (bing) is a loaded word, sounding like “soldier” in Chinese. This partially explains the emperor’s monopoly. When Zhu Di plotted to overthrow Emperor Jianwen, he consulted the monk Yao Guangxiao (Dao Yan). Zhu Di, instead of stating his intentions directly, offered the first line of a couplet: “When the sky is cold and the earth is frozen, water without a single dot cannot become ice (bing).” Yao Guangxiao, catching his drift, replied: “When the country is in chaos and the people are worried, who will be the leader if the king (wang) does not step forward?”

Regarding local specialties, Peking duck and copper charcoal hot pot are decent. But you can find them everywhere now, just as authentic, so I skipped them. I had dinner with classmates twice – one Western, one Xinjiang. I didn’t really get into the traditional Beijing snacks: baodu (boiled tripe), luzhu (stewed pork offal), chaogan (stir-fried liver)… Beijing cuisine features a lot of offal. I’m not a fan, and to me, these dishes don’t quite mask the gamey flavor.

Chicken broth radish, baodu, and sesame sauce for baodu at the Imperial Ice Cellar Restaurant

Yaoji Chaogan at the foot of the Drum Tower, from top left to bottom right: almond tofu, luzhu, garlic vinegar sauce for luzhu, zhajiangmian (noodles with savory soybean paste), chaogan*

I did some digging, and many claim Beijingers were poor in the late Qing Dynasty, resorting to scraps. I think it’s plausible the other way around – people actively chose these ingredients. Offal was cheap in Beijing, dirt cheap!

Due to the well-off princes and nobles, Beijing’s daily livestock consumption was staggering. The meat was used, ice cellars were royal-only, and offal, hard to preserve or transport, flooded the market. Offal prices were likely much lower than elsewhere.

I also suspect that, due to royal protocol, meat demand in Beijing during the Ming and Qing was more rigid. Even as the economy declined, meat consumption likely stayed high. So, as the late Qing economy worsened, offal became even cheaper, establishing it as a regional specialty.

I found an article with a similar viewpoint, though it doesn’t focus solely on Beijing’s offal consumption: https://www.douban.com/note/666792033/

Then there’s douzhi’er (fermented mung bean milk). I got a cup near Prince Gong’s Mansion. It’s made from fermented mung beans, which are mostly sugar and protein. The fermented taste is…unique. The shop owner was funny. He poured a tiny disposable cup. My wife asked, “That’s it?” He said, “Finish it, and I’ll give you a refill.” She took one sip, tossed it, and said it reeked of rotten eggs.

Owner: Hey! Leaving so soon? No refill?

Besides traditional snacks, I found a killer dessert shop in Jianchang Hutong near Guozijian.

Anecdotes

I remember arriving in Beijing; hailing a taxi at the station was impossible. I took a shuttle bus further out to grab one. The driver’s Beijing accent was a real pick-me-up.

Take the shuttle bus one stop, and it’s easy to get a cab.

It was like that the whole trip. Ride-hailing drivers everywhere have their groups, chatting on voice messages at red lights. Beijing drivers have a totally different style. The whole group was hyping up a driver who’d hit his daily bonus and was calling it quits – like a xiangsheng (crosstalk) routine.

“Damn! You’re killing it.”

“Missed one fare, I’m toast.”

At a light, I saw something heartwarming. An old man pedaled a canopied tricycle across the road. It was uphill; he was struggling. His wife, presumably, sat in the back. She stretched out her legs, helping him pedal. Once they crested the hill, she sat back.

It reminded me of… interacting forces!

On my last night, my classmate treated me to Xinjiang food. The main dish was a huge plate of jiaomaji (chicken with numbing peppers) – a massive portion.

My classmate said it’s nothing compared to Northeastern cuisine. She’d been there on business: “The guobaorou (sweet and sour pork) is this big,” she said, gesturing. For something refined, she goes for Japanese. Japanese food in Northeast China is localized – still sushi, hand rolls, sashimi, but double the size.

Mind blown! Big eaters who love Japanese food, head to Northeast China – you’ll be stuffed!

My classmate lives in Xizhimen, supposedly the “center of the universe” (laughs). I also visited Sanlitun, and compared to that, Xizhimen feels older, not so “center of the universe.” The key is the prestigious schools and diverse population, supporting a varied commercial scene.

Sanlitun Taikoo Li

Near Xizhimen Subway Station

My classmate broke it down: different times for students hanging out, European and American students emerging, bar-hopping crowds, and often, drunk Japanese and Koreans on the streets. And after that…

I was thinking, the capital’s nightlife is so sophisticated, what could be next?

Then, it’s the IT worker exodus. The line of overtime slaves for the subway stretches from inside the station to the intersection.

……

Brutal!

Epilogue

Back in Hangzhou, I knew I’d return to Beijing. Its historical sites, hutongs, nature, museums, and exhibitions are endless; you’ll always discover something new. I was too ambitious this time, a bit rushed.

I also realized I don’t appreciate my own city enough. I’ve become complacent. I need to shift my perspective and revisit Hangzhou as a tourist, to truly understand my home.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.