Travelogue 2025

A Travelogue Look Ahead to 2025

Never stop being curious.

We have certainly travelled some ways together and I hope it has been fun. The Travelogue List has already more than forty entries. We have hiked, looked in on Daoist and Buddhist temples, attended art shows in Shenzhen and New York, went to the library, venerated bookstores, studied old dating traditions, and joined Giant Pandas for breakfast. Whew!

What did you think of 2024, and are you ready for 2025? What would you like to see and hear more of?

While you’re considering that, let’s take a walk into the past. All of these pictures are from times before I began writing, and all could be stories. Someday.

If you’ve wondered how these come together, we plan family and couples trips around holidays and school breaks. In between trips, we research the coming trip and write the articles for previous. A trip that takes three to five days may result in anywhere from three to ten articles, which are then released weekly. That’s why it can seem like I’m always seeing or doing something interesting. Mostly I’m just sitting at home dealing with normal day to day stuff. 

The commitment to myself and to you is one weekly travelogue throughout 2025. Some great trips in the works: Beijing, Tianjin, Quanzhou x 2, maybe Hangzhou, and perhaps a return to Chengdu! As if we could stay away… In between, we will still hike, shop, see art in Shenzhen, and probably Hong Kong too. 

Sometime in 2025, probably the first half, I will begin publishing on Substack. I’ve decided to start with the Travelogues I share here plus some bonus material. We will take it slow and see how it goes. My view is that Medium and Substack are complementary. I value Medium and I value you, so my engagement here will not change. You will start to see more links and updates as that gets closer. 

A quick word on Reading Dates. Beyond being an introduction to a book that says something about my interests, the real value is the reminder that travel cannot be just running from place to place, collecting memory points. We have to be still and appreciate the moments. Hope you like these and find some value. I expect to do eight to ten in 2025. 

2024 was a year of adventure and new experiences. 2025 is looking really special and I’m excited to get into it. I hope you will be with me. 

Mind, Body, and Spirit

Satisfy all in Quanzhou’s West Street 

Welcome to the start of a new series on the southeast coastal city of Quanzhou. This trip came about in November 2024 because my wife and I found ourselves home alone when both our boys had weeklong school trips. Not wanting to be left out, we wanted our own fieldtrip. But where to go? Funny thing is, we are always stumped with no ideas, until some serendipitous coincidence, and then it seems obvious! I owe the Quanzhou idea to Yuri Minamide and her New East pub (Yuri, I’m so sorry I cannot find the article or author who mentioned Quanzhou!).

Quanzhou was once the maritime commerce hub of China, as Hong Kong or Shanghai are today. The mix of cultures, languages, and products mixing here left a lasting impression on the streets, architecture, and culture. Quanzhou continues to drive commerce due to proximity to Taiwan, fishing, and strong manufacturing in industries like sporting goods and clothing.

High speed trains (250km plus) get us from Shenzhen to Quanzhou in four hours. I will take six hours on a train over an hour in the air any day. Our first destination was XiJie, or West Street, the most well know “ancient street”. I like these beginnings, you can soak up the culture and get a feel for the citizens way of life.

This banner proclaiming Quanzhou as the “Emporium of the World in Song Yuan China” was our first welcome to XiJie. This artistic combination of the Quanzhou characters “泉州” incorporating all the sights, experiences, and delicacies is effective and used everywhere. The image on the right is a two meter billboard showing each attraction.

We always planned to make this a first visit, to be followed up with a full family trip in 2025. There are so many places we didn’t see this time. Among them, the Confucian Temple is the largest in the southeast and a UNESCO Heritage Site. The Qingjing Mosque, built in 1009, is the oldest Islamic Temple in China. The Shunji Bridge, 450 meters long, built in 1211 and operated for 800 years. And the museums! We didn’t go to one museum. There is that much to experience here.

But first, lunch. Neither armies nor I travel on an empty stomach. This small restaurant open since 1952 with the wood tables and bench seating serves Mianxianhu, 面线糊. Very thin noodles less than an inch long, made from sweet potatoes, are cooked in a soup that is usually a breakfast dish. You can add all sorts of ingredients from a buffet in front of the open kitchen. Seafood, shellfish, eggs, peanuts, vegetables, and fried breadsticks. It is hot, savory, and filling; more like a porridge than traditional noodles. 

Walking the street you do not doubt this is where monks filed and prayed, carriages rocked, beggars begged, and peasants bartered a thousand years ago. Any changes felt organic, driven by community and economy. Some preserved villages, like OCT’s Gankeng in Shenzhen, are a bit more contrived and commercial. Others like Nantou, also in Shenzhen, are spruced up influencer and art installation labyrinths.

But I’m hungry again. Time for a local treat called (Yutubing), a soft purple taro mix sandwiched between thin cookies, then deep fried. Get them fresh, the cookie will be crunchy. A light sweet and salty taste will make you want to eat two or five, but Yutubing are not a healthy addition to any diet.

The history of a place will reveal it’s purpose. People don’t collect in a place by accident or without reason, and XiJie’s reasons begin to peak above the tiled roofs as one walks. The grounds of Kaiyuan Temple, the largest Buddhist monastery in Fujian Province, open directly onto XiJie, which runs parallel. The hundreds — thousands? — of monks and staff plus the constant flow of guests and visitors fuelled the businesses that make up XiJie then and now. 

The best place to view XiJie and the twin stone pagodas of Kaiyuan is to head to the third floor landing of the Service Center, a kind of visitor information office. Both of the stone pagodas that guard and flank Kaiyuan stand like immoveable sentries. You can catch both with the right angle. More on this pair later. 

The second time we passed through XiJie on another day a public safety kind of event was going on. There were fire trucks and police vehicles around for the kids to see. I guess a lot of schools have field trips this week! The kids were so cute hearing them call out who to call if in trouble (119). 

This was also this shocking event happening Thursday morning, but nobody seemed to mind! These three ladies are burning paper money as an offering to support ancestors in the afterlife. This is a very old tradition, and of course I’m familiar with and have seen it performed many times before, but so large a blaze in public with no safety measures at all? Never. 

They had garbage bags full of yellow paper and a great uncontained blaze going! This was happening in front, but on the outside of the Kaiyuan Temple. So this is a public street. The little kids above were 100 meters away. Ash and smoke was going everywhere…. 

This made us laugh. Everyone has some idea why Russia and China are building closer economic ties lately. About two years ago, we started seeing Russian brands being promoted by name in online stores and in some supermarkets. Never a lot of products, just here and there, and nothing we felt like buying. Not a big push, but one notices. Here is the first offline all-Russian shop we’ve come across. Like a Russian Duty Free, mostly all chocolates and sweet, and of course, alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. The prices weren’t all that good. I bet the wholesalers are keeping all the profits.

[Author’s Note: In the time since this trip we have seen more of these “Russia stores” opening. On closer inspection, very little is authentically Russian. Most products are made in China and deceptively (or fraudulently?) packaged. No thank you.]

We didn’t buy anything from this shop. But others shops we did like…

XiJie is good base to work from. There are sights all around within easy walking distance. We returned three times, including the final morning before our train to rack up the shopping achievements. The gift shop on one end is loaded with postcards, stationary, notebooks, stamps, stickers, fridge magnets, and these cute little guys.

These are ShiGandeng, a type of gargoyle that brings good fortune. You can get one or a pair for all sorts of purposes: success in business, pass your exams, get rich… you know, practical stuff! Naturally, you must get one with your animal. I’m a tiger.

ShiGandeng, as the story goes, was a mythical hero from Shandong who was a master of banishing demons. As demand for his services grew, he arranged for his name to be carved into stones that would work to ward away these evil spirits. These stones, often carved with the look of lions, were placed at cleverly hidden spots around dwellings according to feng shui. The positioning of these markers can be quite interesting and appear random without knowing the rules. Many still exist throughout Quanzhou, the features now worn away, giving a ghostly and old feeling. 

We brought this cute pair of red Gandeng home with us. The one with the open smile pulls the money in, and the one with the closed mouth holds it. 

XiJie is one of the most laid back, authentic, and unpretentious ancient streets I’ve had the pleasure to visit. Quanzhou is a lively and densely historical city. We had a great four days here. 

I have one regret. As silly as this is, it must be shared. The first Monday afternoon on XiJie we passed by this misplaced, muddled shop. See the books? It isn’t a bookstore, per se, but I was curious what was in those books. We decided to come back Thursday morning, have a look and talk with the shopkeeper. But when we returned, the front was boarded up. As if the shop was under construction. What might we have discovered there? Now I will never know. 

Kaiyuan Monastery

Garden Paradise 

In our day, Quanzhou is a city of seven million and faces the Taiwan Strait. Despite being Fujian Provinces largest metropolitan city, I always thought of Quanzhou as Fujian’s third city, behind Fuzhou, the capital, and Xiamen, the younger, flashier brother. Only a chance reading here on Medium (thanks New East) brought Quanzhou to mind as a destination worth a look.

Quanzhou position and power dynamics were quite different 1000 years or so ago. Then the city of 500,000 was an international powerhouse, China’s leading city for export and import. The way we thought of Shanghai or Hong Kong in the 1990s and early 2000s, Quanzhou was where foreign business people and Chinese merchants plied their trade in ceramics, sugar, perfumes, frankincense, and of course, alcohol.

The gravity of commerce pulled the arts, culture, and religious institutions to this cosmopolitan melting pot, know as Zaiton or Zayton to visitors at the time.

This is why Quanzhou has so many temple, monasteries, churches, and yes, even mosques. Buddhist, Daoist, Hindu, Muslim, and Christian communities all needed their places of worship. This density and diversity led to some interesting local customs and cross pollination of beliefs with homegrown traditions that make Quanzhou very unique. I’ve never seen any place like it.

We began our trip on an afternoon lunching at XiJie. This famous street in downtown Quanzhou runs parallel to Kaiyuan (Buddhist) Monastery. The monastery is the reason XiJie existed then and the reason for it today. I can imagine the teeming crowds of all manner of social class, profession, and nationality going day and night to serve the hundreds or thousands of monks and worshippers going in and out of this giant center of worship.

As you walk along XiJie, long before you sense even the presence of the monastery, the twin stone pagodas of Kaiyuan begin to poke up above the two and three story storefronts. They watch us all, ushering us to the entrance. An entrance unguarded, open and free to all. No ticket, not even a turnstile or a bag check, simply an opening same as a public street or park. Considering the priceless nature of the treasures displayed here, this is remarkable. 

Yet this is not a public park, but a fully armed and operational, though relaxed, monastery. Not relaxed like a Daoist temple, mind you (see Qingyang), but quite relaxed compared to Chengdu’s Buddhist Daci.

Visitors have the run of the grounds, even into the administration, support, and quarters areas, though these are kept locked. So Kaiyuan is a bustling place. Everyone who visits Quanzhou has reason to visit and no excuses. There were tour groups doing the rounds in many languages. We heard groups from Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore, and Malaysia.

The other class of visitor, predominantly local, is the costume photographers and their clients. Costume shops line both sides of XiJie. This is big business! Individuals and small groups, almost always female — but not always!- dolled up in Song dynasty fashions, being led by their photographers to the best spots. They look cute and have a fun time laughing at the results. 

And yet it is possible to find a quiet, contemplative corner in Kaiyuan. Past the touring and the posing, you can leave almost everyone behind.

Almost everyone.

This altar doesn’t receive too many regular visitors, flanked by fir trees ranked three or four deep. A ghostly figure could be spotted walking in and out of sight among the trees. A shaven head solitary monk in grey robes was slowly walking a circuitous path among the maze of trees, repeating a mantra in a low singsong. Why he was doing this, what he was thinking, we will never know but I got the impression he was where he intended to be, doing what he wanted to do. We left him to his practice.

As we approached the alter, walking under the eaves to peer into the dark, a melodious yet authoritative voice entered consciousness, getting louder the closer we came. At first the voice seemed to be singing, then resolved into a kind of poetic chanting, and we recognized the voice of a teacher speaking to a groups of students. Might we see teaching to a group in person? But no, this wasn’t meant to be. Someone just inside the opening, hiding off to the side, was listening to a recorded lecture. We didn’t feel he would want to be disturbed.

Returning to the Main Hall, approaching from the back as we were, these two special columns were the first feature to study. These two columns are imported from a Hindu temple. I had so many questions. Apparently, Tamil merchants had built a Hindu temple during the Yuan dynasty (12–13th century), and when that temple was closed for reasons, these two columns were repurposed to preserve them as artifacts in Kaiyuan. Both columns are protected from incidental damage. The carvings include Krishna, Brahma, and other figures from Hindu mythology, of which I know very little. 

Kaiyuan’s importance as a repository for artifacts and cultural relics is wide-ranging. This temple is special for having been spared destruction during the Cultural Revolution. Many places of worship were not given this protection. Because of this status, Kaiyuan became a place to collect artifacts from all over the city, particularly but not exclusively, Buddhist artifacts. These include an extensive sutra library (not open to public viewing), a gate from the Confucius temple, and an elaborately carved Qilin Wall from 1795. 

A Qilin, also called a Kirin or Kylin, is a mythical creature like a unicorn, which this is sometimes called, a Chinese unicorn. The one here has the head of a dragon, the hooves of an ox, the tail of a lion, and the scales of a fish. There are different versions. I remember one of these is associated with Confucius’s birth. 

This little angelic figure decorates the Main Hall. This one is holding paper, but others may hold brushes or musical instruments. The twenty-four represent the twenty-four divisions of a Chinese solar year. 

This the character for chan, or zen. Learn how to write it here.

Chan Buddhism came from India, and became Zen in Japan. Looking at this symbol and the adoration and eagerness to be photographed with it, I become acutely away of my minimal knowledge of Buddhism and Daoism generally. With some intention and patience, I hope to increase my understanding of these belief systems and organizations that have such an impact on our cultures.

One thing I did learn that I found very interesting was this explanation of Chan Buddhism’s approach to meditation.

Chan Buddhism understands meditation from a Daoist point of view, that of total absorption in an activity. Any activity, including traditional meditation, but the action can be anything. Chopping wood, reading a book, washing clothes, going for a walk, it is about the losing of the self in the activity. That sounds like the lessening of consciousness that “being in the zone” brings, and I like that interpretation.

This barely scratches the surface of a monastery that is more like an open air museum of a thousand years of religious and regional history. I walked past so many things unaware of the significance, I had notes for things to look for that I couldn’t find, and this article would be three times longer and you’d be so bored and swamped with minutiae that we wouldn’t be having fun. And we’re here to have fun!

Kaiyuan stirs us to make a return visit, and we will.

Twin Pagodas of Kaiyuan

The Monkey King was here

Airports and flights are more numerous and better. High speed trains are regular as clockwork and superior to flying. Apps, digital payment, and metro systems, have made getting from A to B simpler. Tourism is a growing industry with much improved, if still spotty, facilities and service levels.

The crowds are still the issue. But there is a solution to hand. Any travel “off peak” is much more comfortable. Holiday costs will be 2–3x normal. Arrive even one day earlier and avoid most of this, and crowds are noticeably lighter. That’s what we are doing this week ahead of the Qingming Festival, officially April 4 to 6. This series covers sights in and around Jingdezhen and Wuyuan County. This introduction is running long so more background in future chapters. This is the second episode. After Flower Fields of Wuyuan, we walk to Huangling Village.

To get there from the flower terraces, a bridge over the valley must be crossed. It’s not for the faint of heart.

Huangling Village was founded in the Ming Dynasty; that is 500 years of history, and it is only 27 min by train from Jingdezhen. The buildings hug the side of the hill in a horseshoe shape, one layer stacked on the next. You can hear streams bubbling down the sides of the streets all through the village. 

The Main Street before entering the village proper, and also exiting, is properly commercial for the dedicated tourist; snacks, drinks, and souvenirs of all sorts. We had a nice lunch of chicken, rice, and vegetables before going in. 

Winding walkways and alleys open onto viewing platforms and demonstrations of traditional farming and drying methods that are easy to find and made simple to get in and out of. 

Some visitors choose to stay the night in the many small hotels and see the village at night. I can really see the attraction. We planned the day, and I have to say we felt rushed at the end to make the return train. The attractions we didn’t see, the shopping we had to jog past, I felt we could have used another hour or two. 

Wuyuan County and Huangling Village are must-see. We scratched the surface, really, there are many other sites (Rainbow bridge of Shangrao, Wolong Canyon, Yu’a Ancestral House) in many nearby villages. Just too many. I found it difficult to grasp the scale of the place from online information. Influencers must Amazing-Race-It from one position to the next! A more relaxed pace for me, thank you very much. 

Her Porcelain Palace

Drive only twenty minutes out of Jingdezhen, and you may find an unassuming exit with modest signage. You could be fooled into thinking you’re entering a quarry parking lot, or a temporary arrangement of construction dormitories, but then you turn a corner and there it is, a monolithic cylindrical structure covered in mosaic tiles. You have found CiGong, the Porcelain Palace of Jingdezhen.

Tickets are 20 yuan, thank you, collected directly at the gate.

You can be forgiven for wondering, “who put a giant ceramic birthday cake in the middle of the Jiangxi hinterland?” There just has to be a story here…and it is equal parts mundane and amazing. Step inside, and let your senses be immediately overwhelmed. There are motifs, carvings, statues, and mosaics covering every inch of floor, walls, and ceiling. Each balcony is whimsically pierced to look down into the courtyard below, or up to the open sky. There are no windows looking out and vision is constrained to this limited world. The exterior sort of disappears… 

The Porcelain Palace of Jingdezhen is the personal project of a local scion of industry, a Ms. YuErmei, who at the age of 82, decided that Jingdezhen was missing a monument. Her story is well told on a youtube video that is definitely worth a watch: https://youtu.be/jukU3h-hY2c?si=8E-YY_UUsHWtaHg6

Ms. YuErmei, whose name literally translates to something like “second daughter of the Yu family”, had retired after a very successful and profitable career in ceramics. She had started low at age 12 and worked in every step of the process, started her own companies, exported around the world, and earned a fortune. Upon retirement, the story goes, she traveled around the country, as one is supposed to, and she made the fateful decision to enter Tianjin. As it happens, Tianjin has an attraction marketed as a Porcelain House(see it here). YuErmei was taken aback; how could Tianjin, a port city with no history in ceramics, have a monument to porcelain, and all while Jingdezhen with 1700 years had none! So, with renewed purpose, she set out to correct this oversight. But what shape should her “house” take? A stop in Fujian caught her eye and inspired her (see it here) to make her now iconic design. 

At age 79, she bought this property and invested five years, 80 tons of porcelain in decoration, and $880,000. A million dollar vanity project, an ode to the history and might of Jingdezhen’s millenia of global porcelain dominance. Anyway, that’s the story. No doubt the gears of marketing and myth-making are just powering up to pluck the choicest morsels for consumption. Future generations are in for a treat. 

It is kind of corny, but being there, it quickly becomes quite fun. At first, you’re disoriented, looking for the museum, or graphic explanations. But there’s nothing but the art, and you forget yourself, having fun exploring and finding fun ways to make each other laugh and get pictures we would remember. You really forget yourself for a time. Even on this rainy day there were influencers going around looking for the perfect shots.

Ms. YuErmei is now 92 and her children have taken over development and management of the project. Her mission is complete. I, on the other hand, have a new bucket list mission. To see the Tianjin Porcelain House in person and fairly judge between these two behemoths. This contest must be decided, and I will be the arbiter.

First Steps on the Silk Road

This is Dongbu Village. Picturesque, placid, well off the beaten path. A special place for those who know to search it out. 

Dongbu has a special claim to historical significance that we just had to see, if only to say that we were there. Across this narrow walking bridge is a tiny wharf, and there, that was where ships were loaded with the raw materials of special Jingdezhen porcelain, mined from the surrounding Gaoling hills, to be sailed down river to the design and manufacturing cluster, making this unassuming village the first step of the famed sea route of the Silk Road. From here, China’s porcelain and ceramic goods and masterpieces shipped all around China and the world. Quite cool. 

If you want to know more about the subject, I can recommend The Silk Roads by Peter Frankopan, a great read covering the impact and evolution of The Silk Road throughout history from varying perspectives. He seems like a genuinely nice and approachable person, if that matters to you as it does to me. If that was all Dongbu had to offer, I would have been satisfied. After all, this was one stop on a day tour we had hired a driver for. But Dongbu has tricks and ways to surprise and delight. 

Walking back from the wharf, we passed a weathered door welcoming visitors to the MUSEUM. I cannot resist a museum. We learned about the geological processes that made Gaoling Hills the rich source of kaolinite that is so crucial to the highest quality Jingdezhen procelain. Today, kaolin is finding uses in all sorts of diverse industries, from atomic energy, electronics, medicine, building material, and much more. Wonderfully, this is all explained in english, in a museum that cannot get too many foreign visitors. I really appreciated this kind attention to detail. 

One final treat, and this pushed Dongbu to the very top, voted Most Memorable by my youngest son. A lunch prepared by a local family that serves as a resturant for people passing through. That, and the narrow bridge that roused just enough nervousness without being dangerous. My boys are Big City Boys, so this country-livin’ is a vivid experience they won’t forget. 

For me, the more modern buildings of the 1980–90s on this lunch side of the river were a flashback to my days in the South China manufacturing cluster. White small tile exteriors, concrete construction, three or four floors. These were the homes, dormitories, and often the factories where products of all kinds were churned out as fast as possible, to feed a world hungry for stuff, and dollars. All of that is gone now, resurfaced with superhighways, skyscrapers, golf courses, and high rise housing. The dirty manufacturing towns of the south became newly minted Tier 1 megacities. But if you travel far enough, hours by train and car, and hundreds of years back, you can find remembrances of times past and connection in the lingering shadows of an older center of human creativity and industriousness. 

Ceramic Art Avenue, Taoxichuan

Jingdezhen, in China’s Jiangxi Province, has 1700 years of specialization in the mining, design, and manufacture of ceramics. The highest quality ceramics for Chinese rulers and international markets came from this early “supercluster”.

Today, this legacy of greatness is finding new life in museums, artists studios, and young designers showing their wares in open markets. One such market showcases the latest creations of local ceramic aspiring artists and master craftsmen in the setting of an abandoned ceramics factory, the Ceramic Art Avenue at Taoxichuan.

This space just oozes “cool”. These buildings and streets really are an old converted ceramics processing plant that ceased operation only since 1958. The original exhaust towers are still here and get a lot of fan attention. 

The real fun to be had is window shopping the stalls to see the wide variety and offers. Each table has a “theme” and no two are ever alike. Everything below is entirely ceramic, believe me! 😊 

There are many places to get your treasures in Jingdezhen. We walked around several, and though we did our buying at another market, nothing beats Taoxichuan for variety and novelty. If you’re after the best prices, other places will be, I estimate, ten to thirty precent less. But you want to get the real Jingdezhen ceramics, and to be sure that you have, look at the underside for this marking. Then you know you’ve got the real thing. 

The commercial and tourism potential of Taixochuan reminds me of Shanghai’s Xintiandi, Beijing’s 789 Art District, or Chengdu’s Taiguli. The potential, not the reality. The culture and history, the space, the architecture with an air of “cool” is there in spades, but I wonder. In a country with thousands of years of history, lots of places have potential. The other examples above all have the airports, train stations, metro, hotels, and national brands to facilitate the millions of visitors necessary for success. Even if those visitors were possible, Jingdezhen is quite far from realizing this potential. I sincerely hope that Jingdezhen and Taoxichuan make it, but the odds are challenging! Someday, we will return to find out. 

Tea Culture in Hanxi Village

The story of China’s transformation is often cast in terms of a rural to urban shift. Hundreds of millions of people moved from rural areas to urban, from villages to towns, cities to megacities. These young people came in pursuit of jobs and a better life for their parents and children. Now thirty years later, their children are grown and having kids of their own. Cities have changed too, massively improved infrastructure and quality of life, but also costs. An apartment in Shanghai starts around 100,000 RMB/m2. Yeah, you read that right. $1300/sf. Outside the city center, prices are lower; still, 50K (per meter!) won’t buy much. Is it any wonder that young people are questioning old assumptions about where they want to live, investing in an apartment, or getting married and starting families? 

While this happened, the countryside and ancestral villages have lost much of their populations and economic reason for being. But now, people are looking for relief from city life, looking to the countryside and rediscovering China’s natural beauty. Hanxi Village, about 45 minutes drive fro Jingdezhen, is the very definition of rural, but something interesting is happening there. Tea is grown around Hanxi, a black tea, not green, and the fields of tea are inspiring visitors to connect to nature, and find inspiration where not too long ago the future was in doubt. 

Coffee was my adult drink growing up, and I guess you can say I’m a Coffee Guy, but I appreciate a good tea. I was spared embarrassment, good, and a nice tea ceremony, sad, because this is not drinking tea. The driver we had hired for the day helpfully told us that this is scented tea used for stuffing pillows and scented bags, stuff like that. I resisted the urge to stuff my pockets. 

There is no charge to walk around the fields, but not in the fields. Nice gravel and plank walkways provide safe and easy access to high quality viewing platforms at intervals in a short 25 minute walk. I admit, it was really impressive, particularly so, being in such a rural area. 

These platforms were not built only for viewing tea fields, because there is also an Arts Festival, the “Arts at Fuliang” Festival, beginning in 2021. Arts at Fuliang was inspired by a Japanese arts festival designed in 2000 to bring visitors to aging and natural-disaster stricken villages. The lessons of Japan, a similarly aging nation, are being put into service here. We could see evidence of the festival in signage and location markers for installations throughout the area. There is one permanent installation set at the top of a hill, named “The Light of the Earth”, by Ma Yansong. When viewed at night, lights were illuminate the shape and be seen for miles around. 

There are many of these projects all across China, using design and art to bring in tourists and revitalize old communities. This is the impression I get from Hanxi, that if we return in five years time the state of investment and professional development will be impressive. Below, we can see an impressive convention center style building for showcasing the art show. This was in final stages of construction but shows the seriousness of investment going into the area. 

The rain and cloud cover obscured the hills and brought the horizon even closer, letting us distill our attention only to the orderly green rows of densely manicured bushes. Our visit lasted less than an hour, more than ample time to find peace of mind.  

Ancient Kiln and Folk Custom Museum

There’s a mouthful.

This AAAAA(5!)-rated National Tourist Attraction is a themed ceramic culture park plus a premium ceramics retail mall plus a protected base of production plus a school patriotism education base plus a national tourism scenic spot. There are also temples, lakes, and musical performances. It is big, bold, and ambitious, like the statue of the god who greats you. 

We had planned to split a day between this nature park and another museum, the Imperial Kiln Museum (more of that later). My compulsion to visit all museums is well known, but two majors in one day, with a three generation, five member family team? Nah. 

Beyond the entrance, walking through peaceful bamboo wooded areas, listening as streams flow by, all the while winking reminders of the ceramic art appear to be growing right out of the ground. 

These are the real places where designs were conceived, clay was shaped, and everyone from the workers stocking the kiln wood, to the master craftsmen, to the merchants negotiating the comings and goings, it was all happening on this site, and it is STILL happening, right here in front of our eyes.

This is not your traditional museum. More like walking around a small town, this building over here will have memorabilia and profiles of the artists who have worked there, the next will be an active workshop, then a kiln surrounded by racks on racks of staged shapes ready to be glazed, and finally, galleries full of product for sale. 

And I mean, artwork for sale. I wasn’t prepared for this folk custom museum to more closely resemble a luxury mall. Whatever the ceramic equivalent of Louis Vuitton is, you will find it here. The Emporer, his household, and the governing administration were supplied by Jingdezhen, and from the looks of these shops and the prices, they must still be. These are one-of-a-kind, and priced accordingly. From small tea services to installations fit for a corporate lobby, they had it all. 

Signs at the entrance encouraged us to “visit the Forbidden City in the north, and visit the Ancient Kilns in the south.” That is shooting for the stars! But the Ancient Kiln and Folk Customer Museum left a great impression, surprised and delighted us, and justifies it’s confidence. 

Studio-Pei Imperial Kiln Museum

This museum is just eye candy and doesn’t care who knows it. 

The Imperial Kiln Museum in the heart of Jingdezhen is built on and over the grounds of the imperial kilns that supplied the Emperor and the government. The architects of Studio Zhu-Pei have elevated the buildings to the level of the museum pieces displayed within and paid full respect to the legacy and importance of the porcelain industry of Jingdezhen. 

The shape of the galleries are inspired by the curved domes of the old brick kilns used to fire the ceramics. In fact, some of the very bricks used in the museum are old kiln bricks. Kiln bricks lose their effectiveness over time, to retain and distribute heat, requiring the kilns to be renewed every few years. Over the centuries, many older homes in Jingdezhen recycled exhausted kiln bricks in their construction, spreading the DNA of ceramic making into the very bones of the community. To incorporate this into the walls of the museum is totally cool. 

The displays are amazing too, of course. You get the feeling that only the choicest pieces are on display; a vase here, a bowl there, always singly and encased in a tamper-proof display. There must be a full time staff working all day and all night to clean the fingerprints from the glass. 

But the real star of the show is the museum. 

The majority of visitors all shared the same mission: to hunt around for cool shots. Influencers, by the way, were everywhere. I doubt there were ten people there just to experience the museum. The average age must have been in the twenties. 

This museum opened only in 2020. Considering the impact of Covid, the museum has been accepting visitors for less than two years. This attraction really is a world-class project placed in the downtown center of a city only just promoted from fifth tier to fourth (find an explanation of the Chinese tier system here). 

That is a kind of stunning fact. A city with fourth tier access and infrastructure is hosting tier one attractions. To put that in real terms, the tickets for all trains going to and from Jingdezhen go on sale online two weeks before the holiday, and they sold out immediately. We will leave the park with one more image and a glimpse of the future. 

The China of the next twenty years will be entirely different economically and generationally from the China of the past twenty. These are big bets being made. The Studio-Pei Imperial Kiln Museum is a jewel in the crown and a fine representative of the proud history of Jingdezhen. 

The Purity of San Bao Village

An art institute where international students can learn, apprentice, and enjoy the simple life of working with their hands in an idyllic and creative setting.

That’s what I got from Google. There is so much more. SanBao Village harbors bigger dreams.

SanBao Village is really a twelve kilometer stretch of natural spaces separating oases of hotels and B&Bs, boutique restaurants, coffee shops, and artists studios and galleries. The walk through the beautiful hills is good for the fit, and there are ebike rentals and shuttle buses. .

SanBao became an international art institute thanks to founding members LiJianshen and LiWenying in 1998, who saw the opportunity to satisfy the need of young foreign artists who wanted to study ceramic art in Jingdezhen but didn’t know where to start. A few farmhouses were converted to studios and this is where we find the galleries and museums today. 

One minute you’re sharing space with the ducks, the next — after a good 25 minute hike — you’re sipping cappucino across from a five star hotel. 

SanBao was our last stop on a six day trip tightly packed with sightseeing, new restaurants, and lots of rain. Like most tourist locations in Jingdezhen, SanBao is oozing historical cool factor, but the infrastructure hasn’t caught up to the dream. I’d even say the planning hasn’t caught up to the dream. Can’t speak to the funding, but my guess is will be a slowly improving second tier center of attraction for the next decade.

To be perfectly honest, I got tired as the days passed. This was the first trip I really made knowing where I was a priority, and committed to sharing the experience. This approach to “mindful traveling” has been so healthy and positive for me, especially your warm comments of encouragement.

I learned a few lessons for future trips:

1. Schedule recovery time. We don’t have to work or play 18 hour days. Even an office job doesn’t have meetings from dawn to dusk (if you’re doing it right).

2. Consider ahead of time how to present the story, and think about the images that will support that story. I found myself back at the hotel, later back at home, asking why I didn’t get this or that shot.

3. Have a story in mind, but be ready to change it when something completely unexpected is discovered. This happened over and over, and instead of being frustrating, I was reminded why we should do what we can to go out and explore the world.

This is the last in the Jingdezhen Travelogue Series. I think this is our template for travel later in the year. We will be back next week with activities in Shenzhen.

Thanks again for all your support. Your claps and comments guide and motivate me!

TangLangShan

There are “Ten Peaks of Shenzhen”. This is the story of one of them.

Tanglang Mountain County Park is in Nanshan District, where my home is, yet this is my first visit. My experiment in “Mindful Traveling” has brought awareness of the historical richness and uniqueness of the faraway places that we visit, but also the realization that I know very little about the city that I have called home for twenty years. Let’s begin to remedy that.

Tanglang park is 15,000 acres, or 23 square miles, of heavily forested (87%) hills topped by Tanglang Peak. At 430 meters, it is not the tallest or the stumpiest, but it was voted into the Top 10 by Shenzhen citizens. Our boys had a school event at 3pm, so with limited time we struck off on one of the easier pathways winding up to Jimu Pavilion and the viewing platforms. One hour up and one hour down, if we hustled. 

My first two years working in China, 1997–98, I barely even knew Shenzhen existed. We lived some ways north, in Changan, a very concrete and sheetmetal factory town. I remember the Mattel (of Barbie fame) factory across the street from the squat block building that served as our dormitory and office. The street would be clogged with container trucks and hundreds of workers clocking in and out at all hours. Back then we would work 28 days straight, then go to the Fuyong Ferry Terminal direct to Hong Kong for a weekend to recharge and reapply for a 30 day tourist visa. Back then there were no business visas, and I remember the company I worked for was the first in the furniture industry to register a trading office, despite furniture export taking place since 1992. 

An overcast sky, relatively cool, perfect for long walks; threatening rain, but holding off just for us. As you can see, we shared the route with a diverse cast of characters. Locals were joined by Hong Kong day-trippers, parents with school-age kids, trail runners getting their workouts in on the predictable surface, and there was even a group of youngsters guided by teachers performing Three Kingsdoms lectures and telling stories. 

Rounding a corner, we’re greeted with a warning that always surprises me, though I should know by now. South China has monkeys. Not large, and not many, and you never ever see them in city settings (as in India), but in the forests, they are definitely hanging about. So watch out. These little buggers are known to steal anything not nailed down. 

The mural didn’t oversell the experience and wasn’t a minute too soon. Right around the corner, we see the first one, calmy sitting in a crook of a tree, minding its business. Everyone stops in their tracks, stares, and then there’s one over there, and two small ones playing in the trees. The leaves rustle, and one is walking on the wall behind you. 

Someone tosses a banana to waiting hands, because, of course. Everyone gets what they want. The celebrities get the attention and the spoils, and the paparazzi their momentoes. The security guards stand by watchfully. What can they do? Seriously, we should not feed our junk food to these animals. Yet doing so is always irresistable. 

Quickly, we walked on. My wife and I had been to Emei Mountain years ago and experienced the frighteningly more aggressive Emei monkeys. Those work in gangs on single tourists and extort sweets. I guess they are the same species, but they sure seemed larger, and they didn’t mind showing their teeth. 

Jimu Pavilion beckons, so we trudge on. My hips and knees don’t take the pounding as readily as years before. I still fear the descent more than the trip up.  

I used to hike a lot. Growing up rural, and in spite of wanting more than anything to live in a city, I would wind up on this or that hiking trail in Hong Kong or Dongguan on the rare weekends. Hong Kong has hundreds of kilometers of excellent hiking trails. The Hong Kong Trail that snakes around the island, or the Maclehose Trail in the New Territories. You could see monkeys there too. It hits different when you’re out there on your own. I always trekked alone in those years. I didn’t know what I was doing, or what to do. 

I want to compliment the quality of facilities and services all along the route. Top notch, all the way. Restrooms clean and comprehensive, drinking water, and even food trucks! This Coffee Bus was positioned 160m below the summit. You may give me grief for harping on how much China has changed, but if you know, you know. 

The stairs started from here, just a few short minutes of perfect steps all the way to the top with rope railings in place. This park really is one of the best maintained that we’ve tried here.

Jimu Pavilion sits at the summit so when you see it, you’ve made it. From the peak we can see all of Shenzhen Bay and into the northern end of HongKong’s New Territories. 

We can see much of Nanshan District from here. The bay and the coastal plain, just fifteen years ago most of the land was submerged. That’s right, much of the land past the white apartment towers and all the tall office buildings was built on reclaimed land. 

The bridge in the distance is the Shenzhen Bay Bridge connecting Shenzhen and Hong Kong. This is the location of the famous Shenzhen Bay Park pictures that I use in so many articles. And our apartment is somewhere out there! 

Shenzhen has so many nice parks, peaks, museums, music halls, libraries, and so much besides. While we are discussing and researching the next trip to take place later in the Summer, exploring our home city and getting to know it better is a solid idea. 

Shenzhen's Newest Library

I was a strong reader growing up, and I still am. 

I remember the public library in Arcadia, WI, of the Carnegie Foundation endowment that helped fund small libraries in the early 1900s. The smell of that old wood floor and brick-walled building. I remember books about black and white hollywood monster movies from the 50s, Wolfman and Dracula, and alien invasions. It’s funny what sticks in the mind. I still love a great library. Peaceful and quiet, nobody bothers you.

Shenzhen’s newest library, “the north division” is a work of modern art and technology. The total area under six floors is 72,000 square meters. This is a “smart” public library, also the functioning city literature archive, document collection and editing center, network data center, and dispatching center. This is a forty minute metro ride from where we live. Not exactly close, but worth the trip!

I have had a library card for the Shenzhen system since 2022, so this isn’t my first library. We usually frequent the older library in Futian district. The Futian branch is 50,000 square meters but older and doesn’t compare to the comfort and selection of this one. This new branch has 8 million(!) books and seating for 2500 people. 

All of the books in the above wall are English, which makes me so very happy. The feast of colors and the obvious age of the books show how many people must have enjoyed and benefited from reading before us. Like a giant cousin of my grandmother’s bookshelf upstairs in the country house. There were stacks of National Geographics where a ten year old could see the world. She had The Odessa File, which I wasn’t old enough for but read anyway. Her copy already looked thirty years old. I never stopped to think why she and grandpa had a book about hunting nazis. 

What we can see and explore is not the whole story. Under the six floors, there are three floors of underground storage area, fully automated and intelligent using an ASRS (auto-storage and retrieval system), which will deliver the book you want in under eight minutes. My wife tested the system to find a biography of LinYutang and it worked like a charm. 

This library and the art museum that sits right across the square were both designed by German studio KSP Jürgen Engel Architekten. I think it has a real German aesthetic. The impression is competence and efficiency first and comfortable enough where it counts. 

Libraries supercharge personal growth, and contribute to making societies fairer. Information set free raises everyone’s fortunes. Spending time here basking in the sights, smells, and (quiet) sounds of learning makes my heart at peace and anxiety about where the worlds heading less. 

The Art of Alphonse Mucha

[Author’s Note: Includes tasteful pictures of the female form.]

For me, going to an art show is like Augustus Gloop going to Wonka’s. I find the combination of quiet, unique and beautiful imagery, and the history fascinating. Bring on the chocolate river! Let’s visit the Art of Alphonse Mucha at the Seaworld Culture and Art Center in Shenzhen.

This modern style museum opened in 2017. I remember my wife and I walking and first noticing it. “Shenzhen has things like this!?” was our reaction, betraying our long history and the humble origins of this city. The museum and surrounding park were both designed by Japanese architect Fumihiko Maki, his first project in China. 

Alphonse Mucha(1860–1939) is a Czech painter, illustrator, and graphic artist. He is best known for theatre promotion posters featuring stage actress Sarah Bernhardt. The show starts here, with the posters and the partner that made Mucha famous. 

What stood out to be immediately was the facial expressions nd expressive postures. The most subtle shades of emotion, and variety of expressions, the perfect coordination and balance of head tilt, body language, hand position. It was like looking at photographs. He grabs your attention, doesn’t let it, and directs you to the message. The man was made for marketing.

Below is the first painting in the gallery, I think advertising a comedy. The only man facing the viewer, maybe the only man there, the side-eye he’s giving the revelers, his black suit, the visual leaps out and demands that you wonder what he is thinking at that moment. I would buy a ticket just to learn. He’s me at any party.

The Muse, Sarah Bernhardt. Mucha’s first poster of her made him famous and revolutionized poster design. The long, narrow shape that showed off her height and figure, the captivating expressions, always the flower motifs. These were a hit and instantly collectible. Ms. Bernhardt got all the juiciest roles, even some traditionally for men, Hamlet! 

The late 1800s saw a convergence of mass production techniques, affordable consumer goods, and the relaxing of advertising laws, which in France previously prohibited large prints on streets and buildings. Brands and trademarks began to demand packaging design and commercial advertising. Mucha’s talent for feminine vitality and grace made him truly popular with the public. I’d like to see AI try to do this! 

But for me, it is all about the expressions, full of mystery, and yet bringing us into confidence. 

In the early 1900s, Mucha’s work was so much in demand that he published a book of decorative elements that other artists and craftsmen to transfer to wood, metal, ceramics, or paper. I can’t get over the lady on the front cover. She is summoning something evil and delicious, I’m sure of it. 

But for me, it was all about the faces. Mucha understood human nature, a trait I’m always looking for. 

We’re very fortunate to have a resource like the Seaworld Culture and Art Center so close to us. Fortunate for so many things. The Alphonse Mucha show was a brilliant way to celebrate May 1st. I’m grateful to be able to share some of what we saw with you. 

Gankeng Ancient Town

Shenzhen’s Hakka History

Historical places have an immersive cool factor that people love to connect with. The older and the more relatable, the better. Preserved old neighborhoods, or Ancient Streets, exist in nearly every major city in China, bringing history close up for everyone to appreciate. Xian, Nanjing, Hangzhou, Chengdu, ChongQing, Luoyang, Changsha, Guangzhou — I’ve seen a few.

Shenzhen has been my adopted home for 23 years. Techhub-Shenzhen, Special-Economic-Zone-Shenzhen, gateway to the Pearl River Delta Megalopolis, it all happened so fast that we easily forget that Shenzhen only began the journey to “global technology hub” in 1980. Prior to that, to us business-minded folks (pity us), Shenzhen was thought of as a fishing village.

But Shenzhen City did not exist prior to March 5, 1979. Bao’an County was removed to establish Shenzhen City, and a new special economic zone. Later, Bao’an was restored, and Gankeng Village now is part of the Buji District of Bao’an County. Gankeng Ancient Town (formerly Gankeng Village), is a redevelopment project by OCT (not OCP, different, but yeah, kinda the same). By the time I hit the scene in March, 1997, you’d never know that Shenzhen was only 18 years old.

These tourist destinations are designed for family fun and education. Everyone has their needs met. There is architectural and cultural history, cool shopping, influencer hotspots, and food, lots of traditional foods. The kids just go crazy for these treats. The big kids, too. Something about the setting makes everything taste better. 

Old becomes New in these new imaginings laid over 300 year old alleyways. In a world where the old is more often bulldozed to make way for even wider freeways and even taller skyscrapers, it is nice to think about walking in the footsteps of others centuries before. 

This worn blockhouse was built in 1921 to “resist bandits and protect the village”. When bandits attacked, villagers would barricade themselves in the blockhouse. For 20 years it has stood against said bandits, the Japanese, and finally, the Kuomintang forces. Today the cramped space tells stories of the resistance, the counter spy back-and-forth, and the punishments and damage the village suffered. In this location, the first radio station connected the southern resistance to central planning, sending vital back and forth communication of positions and plans. There used to be 500(!) of these towers in the Hakka area. This may be one of the last. 

A nice free museum welcomed us in from the increasingly persistent rain. Hakka history and culture is mapped out in detail. Originally from the North, the Hakka people migrated south in a series of moves after the fall of the Song dynasty (1270).  

Very interesting how this branch of the Han never fully assimilated with other southern populations, maintaining a separate-though-related language and their own customs and beliefs. Today we can find Hakka populations all over Southeast Asia, in Taiwan, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, and even as far away as Jamaica. The effect of the blockhouse, the repeated migrations, reinforces the sense that there was a history of conflict in this area that the museum sort of glosses over. Moving on!   

Do you know what snuff is? This is a snuff shop! You can laugh, I know I’m like a kid visiting the adult store. I thought snuff had gone the way of the Victorians. Apparently, snuff is finely ground tobacco leaves, and it originated in Brazil, got to the Europeans in the 17th century, and by 1650 had reached China. The little decorative bottles look really neat. 

There are so many uses for this snuff 🤭!

You can: knock yourself out, clear your heart, stop snoring, alleviate mental depression, stop a stuffy nose, ventilate your lungs, relieve vertigo, and expell rheumatism!

I made a deal that when we come again, I get to try. Which one?

And while we’re on the subject of relieving aches and pains, how about free booze? This is traditional Hakka rice wine, also known as Yellow Wine, or Mother’s Wine, because it was often brewed by women in the home. The wine can be used in cooking, most commonly in a ginger chicken dish, or drunk directly. 

Is it funny, how we will plan vacations around major holidays, waiting for months in anticipation of the chance to fly a few hours to some new city? The truth is, I have never explored my home city beyond a few functional locales that could be counted on ten fingers! My haunts include a coffee shop or two, the library, the park, Shake Shack, and not much else. We get into grooves and repeat the same routines over and over. I will never get tired of visiting Ancient Towns. They show how modern cities and traditional culture can not only coexist, but thrive. 

Granddad's Bluff

[Author’s Note: My brand is Asian experiences, but we aren’t always in Asia, and the world contains so much wonder and cool stuff to share. Following a recent family trip to Wisconsin and New York, there are a few experiences I just must share.]

LaCrosse, Wisconsin (population 50,000) was the large town of my childhood. My Grandparents would get in their Chevy Blazer on the weekend and drive out to the superstore of the day to buy groceries for the family feasts. I may recall it was Shopko? We would get to eat at a restaurant like McDonalds or Old Country Buffet, perhaps rarely a supperclub like Nob Hill. They showered us with treats. Good times for a kid.

Now that we’re all grown up, my Mom, brother, and sister live in Lacrosse so I visit every year or so. More frequently these next few years, lest you think me a poor son. We decided in lieu of zoning out on Netlix to enjoy the summer weather in The Great Wisconsin Outdoors. My brother, who is a sportsman of some skill, suggested hiking Grandad’s Bluff.

This area of Wisconsin is called a Driftless Area, so named due to not being covered by the thick ice glaciers that came south out of Canada over the past 2.6 million years. When the ice sheets bypassed the area, the hill and valley topography remained unchanged by the glaciers that rolled over everywhere else, grinding down the hills and filling in the valleys with debris. This Driftless Area is what we see when looking out from Granddad’s Bluff. The plain where the city stretches, to the Mississippi and on to Minnesota. 

We are walking on trails designed for biking. As we walk around the switchbacks, I imagine bikers bombing down the trail, leaping over boulders, barely skidding around corners. 

Sure enough, here they come...

But not the trim speeding daredevils throwing caution to the wind, but middle-aged couples toiling painfully up the trail or (very) cautiously picking their way down around the hairpin corners. Always so nice, mindful of walkers, and always, always with a greeting.

These trails were built by professionals and it really shows. Signage is bright and easy to follow, the trails are color coded, and easy to understand. If I’d been there myself, I doubt I’d have gotten lost! Anyways, my brother knew where to go. 

But there’s more than just a hike to the summit. History leaves traces for those on the lookout. Anyone would walk right by this slot in the hill and never give a second thought. 

Here’s what the “fissure” looked like in 1865… 

This is the tramway viewed from the bottom, used to send sandstone mined from the bluffs above, down to the plain and river.

Like all towns, buildings utilized the surrounding forests for materials, but wood structures only take a town so far. After a series of devastating fires, the city decreed that new buildings be constructed from stone. The surrounding sandstone bluffs provided the new fuel for growth of the city.

Stone, cut from the quarry site, was pulled by horse to the top of the tramway and sent down by rail. How were the empties pulled back up? The weight of the cars going down pulled the empty cars up using long cables. This quarrying continued almost uninterrupted until the 1930s.

The bluff already known as “Grandad” was a tourist attraction and city landmark, already famous, and the source of debate between citizens and quarry developers who wanted to start blasting.

Local papers got involved and a public outcry led to the Hixon family, led by Ellen Hixon, to contribute $12,000 to a fund dedicated to purchasing Grandad’s Bluff for the city. If you’re thinking, hey, that’s not going to get very far, only $3000 more bought the land and funded roads and other improvements. Inflation, right?

Mark Twain put his feelings concerning Lacrosse the best, when in his book, “Life On The Mississippi”, he said, “Here is a town of 12,000 to 13,000 population, with electric lighted streets, and blocks of buildings which are stately enough and also architechturally fine enough to command respect in any city. It is a choice town, and we made satisfactory use of the hour allowed us, in roaming it over…” Ha! I was content with three days. Save some for next time, yeah?