The Celestial City
Trip Start
Nov 29, 2008
1
3
16
Trip End
Jan 03, 2009
Hangzhou,
Zhejiang,
China
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
West Lake is the jewel in the centre of Hangzhou, inspiration to adventurers, emperors, and, nowadays, tourists.
A Venetian merchant in the service of the Mongol emperor, Marco Polo came across Hangzhou in his travels throughout Asia. He had nothing but praise for the city, known then as Kinsai, "The Celestial City," of which he wrote, "This name it merits from its preeminence, among all others in the world, in point of grandeur and beauty, as well as from its many charms, which might lead to an inhabitant to imagine himself in paradise."
Even on a crisp autumn day like today, it does seem like paradise.The lake is like a scene in a Chinese watercolour. The sunlight is golden; the lake shines like a mirror. Pleasure boats dot the water. Weeping willows sweep its surface. The hills are gentle and rolling, a little misty. People wander across the arching bridge and along the water's edge, tiny in the landscape.
On the west side of the lake, a tall, slender pagoda stands on guard atop a hill. To the east, a broad, multi-eaved pagoda. Each of its windows glows with the light of the sun.
"There are many romantic stories about this lake," Kitty says as we walk the path between the water and willows. "It is said that the slender pagoda is a woman, and the wide one is a man. They are like two lovers gazing at each other from across the lake, hoping they will be together one day."
Kitty and Al are walking arm in arm. Between the two pagodas on the far shore, nestled in a cloud of green pines, is the Shangri-La hotel where they were just married.
There's just one thing marring this paradise. It's the tour guides barking, "You want boat? Beautiful views! Only 100 yuan. Come on!"
Al sighs. A veteran traveller in Asia, he's seen it all before.
"There are two words you need to know in Mandarin," he tells me, "and they're the most important words you'll ever use. Bu yao!"
"What does that mean?" I ask.
"Don't want!"
We wander past another man trolling for business.
"Ride on boat! See scenic beauty!!" he calls. Sounds good to me. But Al and Kitty have already been on the boats and they're not keen at the moment. It's getting late in the day, anyway.
"Bu yao," I reply regretfully, practicing my new words.
Along the path, people stop to take photos of each other against the scenic background. ("Look! This is me on the Xilin Bridge!")
Parents chase after chubby toddlers as they run amok, bare bottoms peeking out of their pants. In China, no diapers are used-just the space provided for when nature calls.
Old folks chat with each other on park benches, cheeks pink with good health, smiling as they soak up the sun.
Lovers hold hands and kiss as the sun lowers over the hills. The boys are dressed in neat black and gray jackets, their hair artfully gelled and tousled. The girls wear fashionable knee high boots and fur-trimmed tops.
"Is it just me, or do the people here seem exceptionally good looking?" I ask Kitty.
"Hangzhou is known for its attractive people. Maybe it is the lifestyle. It is very relaxed. Nobody wants to work too hard. They want to enjoy life. And the city is so beautiful. I think maybe this reflects in the people also."
She's right. Marco Polo is, too. Hangzhou is just an all-around beautiful place to be.
