Wuyuan - Off-The-Beaten-Path Villages and Restaurants

After the spectacular Shicheng village in the early morning, we visited a few largely unknown villages as we slowly made our way back to Wuyuan town. None of these villages were on the official list of "Scenic Spots" governed by the Wuyuan 5-Day Pass, meaning there were no entrance fees to pay. So none of the more popular Big and Little Likeng, Sixi Yancun or Xiaoqi for us -- we're heading straight into the uncharted territory of Wuyuan's pre-commercialized villages.



Starting from Shicheng at the northernmost reaches of Wuyuan's mountainous backroads, the next village was often referred to as the "Roundest Village in China." The little hamlet of Jujing, literally "Path of the Chrysanthemum," was another one of those anonymous gems of genuine Huizhou-style villages hidden within the formerly unreachable mountains. Almost fully enclosed by the looping river, the village resembled a mini Cesky Krumlov with dark, exotic Chinese rooflines instead of baroque belltowers.



While the Qing Dynasty covered-bridge continued to welcome faraway visitors, decorative sculptures on its balustrades were concealed on this day underneath some sun-dried Chinese cabbages. You know you're walking into an authentic village with absolutely no gentrification or pretence in the name of tourism. This is real stuff.



Remote communities have always survived through self-sufficiency, no matter which part of the world it's in. Here the rice fields were located upstream along the valley, while the impossibly steep hills surrounding the village had long been cultivated into terraced plantations for tea, both the drinkable variety and the oil-producing variety. To this day there was only one small general store, and villagers needing anything more would need to take the daily scheduled bus to Wuyuan town.



For many centuries this row of awkward wooden-planked footbridges, randomly radiating out in all directions, has bridged the natural moat separating the village from the outside world. Frankly I had my concerns when I had to walk across one of these planks to chase down the storekeeper to refill my cellphone (yes they do have decent cellphone coverage). But as precarious as they may seem, they're actually very secure so long as you don't lose your balance.



The largest and best-maintained building in the village, Jujing Elementary School proudly displayed the Communist Party's five-pointed star at the centre. While the children stayed in their classes, the school courtyard served the public function of sun-drying tea-seeds for communal oil production.



As we left we noticed the former name of the village -- Taipingzhen, or "Peace Town" -- engraved on the plaque over the Qing Dynasty bridge. What is the significance of the old name and why did the inhabitants change it to "Path of the Chysanthemum?" There were no village elders around whom I could ask. That's something I'll likely never know, which is exactly the romance of visiting these mysterious villages.



We moved next to Changtan, another charming village just south of the former county seat of Qinghua town. While most tourists visit Qinghua for its landmark Rainbow Bridge, neighboring villages like these receive next to zero visitors. We didn't find even one shop or restaurant, let alone a hotel.



This was a great place to enjoy getting lost within the narrow claustrophobic alleys, all surrounded by tall, whitewashed firewalls topped with curving roof edges. The landscape here was flatter than Jujing's, and the villagers made productive use of their farmland.



But the pastoral life seemed to be on the verge of disappearing. Just 200m away loomed the construction site of one of Wuyuan's countless new housing developments which, when finished in a year or two, will surely attract hundreds of suburban families with their suburban needs. At the same time the younger generation continue to gravitate towards the cities and depleting these villages. After more than 20 years of the one-child policy and its skewing effect on demographics, it's difficult to be optimistic about the future of these beautiful villages.



Further down the road near the turnoff to Sixi Yancun, we made a brief stop at another small settlement named Zhangcun. This village used to be well-known for one of the most unusual and picturesque bridges in Wuyuan, a long, primitive footbridge known simply as the Zhangcun Wooden Bridge. After the destruction of yet another reincarnation of the bridge in recent floods, we arrived at the village with no expectations of what we would encounter.



Much of the village was comprised of newer farmhouses, albeit rebuilt in the traditional style. After 15 minutes we stumbled upon the old Citang, or ancestral temple for worship among the clan. As we entered the gigantic dilapidated shell of what must have been a glorious temple, our taxi driver Ms. Cheng joked with my wife that it's only less than a century ago when this was a forbidden place for women.



Now this place had been relegated to the function of a barn for the local cattle population, with cattle ropes tied around the ancient cedar pillars and sculpted stone bases. Every self-respecting village in Wuyuan, or almost anywhere else in rural China for that matter, must have had a Citang in the past. Is there still time to revitalize heritage buildings such as these, or is it already too late? That's something for the citizens of Wuyuan to decide.



The final village of our visit was also my favorite discovery in Wuyuan -- I had never heard of this rustically enchanting village before, and it's definitely not on any tourist map anywhere. Even if you search for the name of Zhaocun on the Chinese Baidu Maps, the village doesn't show up until you're at the scale of 100m. This is as off-the-beaten-path as it gets.



Upon entering the village you would immediately dive into an medieval labyrinth of narrow zigzagging alleys, stretching out in three directions like a broken spider web. Every turn at every crossroad seemed to reveal another stunning picture to the first-time visitor while the locals carried on their daily lives, blissfully unaware of the raw unpretentious beauty -- and the tourism potential -- of their ancestral home.



We were far from the only outsiders stumbling upon this untouched corner of Wuyuan -- on this day a group of Chinese art students had already staked their easels around the village at seemingly odd spots, not all of them obviously scenic at first glance. The locals didn't seem to mind the random strangers outside their doorways though, or perhaps this had already become a weekly occurrence.



This was essentially the Wuyuan that I had come for -- not the Wuyuan of planned mass tourism, of aggressive hawkers and alleys full of souvenir shops, but a Wuyuan still belonging to the genuine descendents of the once-powerful Huizhou merchants, still living their laid-back lives in their classical home and courtyards, many dating from the Qing Dynasty or beyond.



So we concluded our tour of Wuyuan with visits to five villages, my favorites being Shicheng, Zhaocun and Jujing in this particular order. Currently Shicheng requires an entrance fee only during the peak autumn foliage season of November and December, while Zhaocun and Jujing remain largely undiscovered and require no entrance fees. If you're independent travelers like us and are not intending to purchase the Wuyuan 5-Day Pass, these are probably some of the best spots outside of the "official" tourist route.


RESTAURANT REVIEWS

Food Review: CUNLI CUNWAI (Wuyuan Town, Wuyuan)
Address: 162 Wengong Beilu, Wuyuan
Hours: 11:00 – 22:00 (unconfirmed; based on observation)
Website/Map: From Baidu Map
Directions: Situated at the northeast corner of the intersection of Wengong Beilu and Dongsheng Lu. Just hire a taxi -- Wuyuan Town isn't that big and everyone seems to know the place.

Widely rumoured to be the best restaurant in Wuyuan County in terms of price-to-quality, Cunli Cunwai was the place I specifically picked for trying out Wuyuan most famous local dish. In fact we specifically stayed at its associated hotel upstairs for the convenience of getting to the restaurant -- that's how far its reputation goes. While the hotel wasn't so great (as expected), the food itself was quite worth the trip.

So what's this famous local dish that we were so keen on trying?

If you've been to Jiangxi Province, you'd probably think that Jiangxi cuisine is all about suicidal levels of spiciness, which is generally true. But Wuyuan has historically belonged to Anhui Province prior to the Communist era, and its culinary lineage is much closer related to the distinct but milder taste of Huizhou cuisine. Think freshwater fish, organic wild vegetables and other farmhouse dishes.



Wuyuan's most famous dish -- the Steamed Red Purse Carp -- is a platter of alluring bright orange to curious foodies, and a nightmare to aquarium enthusiasts. No matter how the chef plates and garnishes the fish, it still looks eerily similar to any ornamental koi fish (ie. Nishikigoi) swimming in the garden ponds of Japan and Eastern China. But here in Wuyuan it's not only a local favorite for generations, but an auspicious dish elevated to the tables of China's state banquets.

Our fish could almost pass for a Cantonese dish -- gently steamed in a mildly sweet, light soy sauce and topped with julienned ginger and pepper. It was also huge for its measly price of RMB 36 (CAD$6) and, most importantly, carried almost no "muddy taste" for a freshwater fish. The only possible complaint was that it was steamed so lightly that the meat next to the backbone was just undercooked. Decent dish at a great price nevertheless.



Our next dish was an even better deal. Late autumn was the start of bamboo shoot season, and we decided to order the region's famous cured bamboo shoots. Our Nongjia Lasun (Farmhouse Cured Bamboo Shoots) came reconstituted in a savory broth and sliced absolutely paper-thin into a refreshing, crispy dish with just a tinge of spiciness. In fact this was probably one of my favorite bamboo shoot dishes in recent memory, at the cost of only RMB 18 (CAD$3).



And the good deals kept coming. Cunli Cunwai was having a promotion menu on certain local dishes, including this pot of Simmered Free-Range Chicken with Caterpillar Mushrooms for an amazingly cheap RMB 30 (CAD$5). As far as we knew genuine free-range chicken typically went for around RMB 80 per whole chicken in restaurants, and Caterpillar Mushrooms, an immunity booster in Traditional Chinese Medicine, was never cheap either. Inside this claypot was half a chicken (definitely free-range, with the recognizably sweeter, chewier meat and clearer broth) simmered with the thin, enoki-like mushrooms into a delicious chicken broth, and sold at a rock bottom promotional price.

Even after a large domestic beer (probably a Xuehua) and some rice, the grand total still came out to less than RMB 100. Cunli Cunwai was a definite bargain -- and forget Hong Kong or Shanghai prices -- even at local pricing standards. We just spent RMB 120 at Sanqingshan the previous night, and the food was five notches below the quality here.

One last recommendation: ask for the "No Receipt" (Buyao Fapiao!) menu if you can speak Chinese. Now this was getting weird even for China. I don't know how they manage to escape attention from the local Taxation Department, but as a traveler I'm quite content to just follow the local custom!

Bill for Two Persons

Steamed Red Purse Carp (Hebao Hongliyu)	RMB 36
Farmhouse Dried Bamboo Shoots (Nongjia Lasun)	RMB 18
Simmered Free-Range Chicken with Caterpillar Mushroom (Chongcaohua Duntuji)	RMB 30
Bowl of Rice	RMB 1
Plate Set x 2	RMB 2
Large Beer	RMB 10
TOTAL	RMB 97 (CAD$15.4)

Food Review: XIANYU XIANROU TESEDIAN (Wuyuan Town, Wuyuan)
Address: Huangcheng Beilu, Wuyuan
Hours: 11:00 – 21:00 (unconfirmed; based on observation)
Website/Map: N/A
Directions: Near the corner of Xingjiang Lu and Huangcheng Beilu. It's probably easier to show the picture below to a taxi driver.



Recommended to us by a local here in Wuyuan Town, this little mom-and-pop eatery serves up great authentic local dishes at very cheap prices. In fact, cheaper prices than even Cunli Cunwai. But here's the catch -- I wouldn't know how to get here without a taxi, and I don't know the exact address. I only know that it's within walking distance from the County Government Office. Hence I've taken a photo of the storefront for those intrepid travelers wanting a little adventure.



While Xianyu Xianrou literally means "Salted Fish and Salted Meat," we didn't spot much of either on the menu. For reasons unknown to us, the owner's daughter seemed absolutely convinced that we would enjoy their house specialty chicken feet. Fine, bring it on, I thought, as we're accustomed to these in Cantonese Dim Sum anyway.

These actually tasted quite good. The preparation here was quite different from the reddish-orange type typically seen in Hong Kong -- there was no deep-frying to loosen the chicken skin (and thus a little healthier), and the sauce consisted of a heavier, darker soy with a hint of hot green peppers. A pretty good start to the meal, but the next two dishes were even better.



If the restaurant was confident enough to put Salted Meat on its name, I thought, they must have some excellent cured ham in store. As in the rest of Southern China, Wuyuan's Larou is typically a whole leg of pork, salted, air-dried and aged before it becomes ready for consumption. Our dish of stir-fried ham was mildly salty, very lean, and came infused with the complex flavor one would expect of quality cured meat. While the fiddleheads were not spectacular, it's something we rarely get in Canada. This dish was so good -- it didn't last very long on the table.



But it was the plainest and cheapest dish that turned out to be the best. This Hudoufu, or Mashed Tofu, belongs to a whole genre of so-called "mashed dishes" unique only to Wuyuan and nowhere else in China. The concept is simple -- dice and stir-fry the ingredients until done, then add fluids and rice flour until reaching the desired consistency.

Here the common peasant fare of tofu and chrysanthemum greens were transformed into a chunky yet harmonious mixture of fragrant, highly addictive concoction, perfect for its main purpose as a topping on steamed rice. I was sure they're cooking with artery-clogging lard but I didn't care -- it was just amazingly good! And at the unbelievably cheap price of RMB 16 (CAD$2.5), this simple dish was easily my favorite.

Bill for Two Persons

Red Braised Chicken Feet (Hongshao Fengzhao)	RMB 30
Stir-fried Cured Ham with Fiddleheads (Larou Chaoshanjue)	RMB 28
Mashed Tofu (Hudoufu)	RMB 16
Rice x 2	RMB 2
Plate Set x 2	RMB 2
TOTAL	RMB 78 (CAD$12.4)

ACCOMMODATION

Hotel Review: CUNLI CUNWAI (Wuyuan)
Address: 162 Wengong Beilu, Wuyuan
Price: RMB 138
Website/Map: Booked from CTrip.com
Directions: Situated at the northeast corner of the intersection of Wengong Beilu and Dongsheng Lu.

Once again, we booked this hotel only for the convenience of dining downstairs at the excellent Cunli Cunwai restaurant. I wouldn't have considered this hotel otherwise.



The hotel wasn't all bad -- I did find several things going for it: one of the best value restaurants in Wuyuan, friendly and helpful reception, spacious room, desktop computer inside the room with free internet access, and the cheapest stay of our entire trip at RMB 138 (CAD$22).

But there were also a few caveats: below average hygiene, water leaking from the shower stall to the rest of the bathroom, and thin, non-sound-proofing windows facing a busy section of Wuyuan's busiest road. Thanks goodness for our own slippers and earplugs.

If I ever end up in Wuyuan again, I would stay at the Super 8 down the road and take the taxi to Cunli Cunwai restaurant. At least it's the devil I know.

Wuyuan Shicheng - Most Beautiful Village, Most Honourable People

My hands were tremoring as I shot this series of pictures, my heart pounding and my breath puffing in the crisp mountain air. My thighs felt incredibly weak, and the strenuous climb was only half the reason.

I was confronted with, by far, the most visually stunning village I had ever seen.



I have to clarify again -- I am NOT a photographer, but a traveler who records his journey in still images. It was 7:30am on a sunny, cold autumn morning in the depths of backroads of China's Jiangxi Province, when I walked into a misty fairyland straight out of Chinese ink paintings.



But before anyone falls in love with this village and starts planning a trip to China, I must warn that:
i) Transportation to this village is NOT simple
ii) The mist is highly seasonal -- in fact it's not mist at all
iii) Standard Chinese is not spoken, let alone any English

But if you're excited by the prospect of exotic locales, a little culture shock and some breathtaking scenery, read on and decide whether this is your kind of vacation.



You've probably never heard of this little village called Shicheng, but you may have heard of Wuyuan. Self-proclaiming as the "Most Beautiful Village in China," Wuyuan has successfully transformed in recent years from an impoverished county in a landlocked province into one of China's biggest springtime tourist draws. And while the entire nation flocks here for its golden rapeseed flowers in April, luckily only a handful come for the arguably more pictureque tea-seed oil season in late autumn.



In any other season, the remote village of Shicheng is photogenic enough with its warm inhabitants and Huizhou-style architectural touches -- whitewashed houses, crumbling grey tiles, towering rectangular walls topped with curving rooflines. But in the mornings of late autumn, white magic emanates from the chimneys when the locals cook their breakfast in a spectacular display -- by lighting up the otherwise unusable shells of the tea-seed nuts.



Shielded by mountains on all sides, the aromatic smoke from Shicheng gets trapped in the valley and blankets the entire village in a misty, dreamlike world of black and white. 200-year-old maples tower above the smoke while the first rays of the sun penetrate through to illuminate each family's little courtyard. The scenery becomes totally unreal -- you have to see to believe.



You won't find this perfect atmospheric condition elsewhere, not even among neighboring villages in northern Wuyuan. And you won't witness this ritual of burning tea-seed shells any other season -- it occurs only between October when tea-seeds are harvested, and December when the remaining shells run out. After December the villagers revert to regular wood fuel which result in a light, quickly dispersing smoke. And you have to arrive early in the morning, preferably before 07:00 when villagers start cooking their first meal. Align all these conditions and you'll find yourself in a mythical landscape, at least for the next couple hours until the tea-seed smoke disperses.



Take a stroll between the farmhouses and you'll appreciate an authentic, pre-commercialized rural Chinese village, before the onslaught of mass tourism. The only tourist-oriented facility is a new public toilet on the roadside and a viewing platform at the top of a small hill. As of 2012 there are still NO SHOPS within the village centre, with the only general store located near the village entrance. There are also no hotels or restaurants, only informal mom-and-pop operations of "Nongjiale" (farmhouse stays) and "Nongjiacai" (farmhouse meals).



The village's main claim to fame -- the prized tea-seed nuts -- continue to crack under the autumn sun in front of every farmhouse. The seeds inside would be cold-pressed into camellia seed oil, a light, fragrant cooking oil with an extremely high smoking point perfect for Chinese deep-frying dishes.



At the current retail price of RMB 80-100 (CAD$13-16) per kilogram, tea-seed oil has become a major source of income for Shicheng's villagers aside from green tea, also planted on the hillside next to the village. Amid heightened consumer concern about the safety of cooking oil (the harvesting of sewer oil comes to mind), organically-produced tea-seed oil now commands premium prices from the Chinese middle class.



"Baby pigs for sale daily in Lingxia village in Gutan. Note: cheaper prices than Qinghua town," reads a hand-written advertisement on the side of a dilapilated farmhouse. Plantations and livestock farming, and not tourism, remain the economic backbone of these remote villages. Things are starting to change though -- the village now charges an admission fee of RMB 60 (CAD$10) on certain days, typically during the peak autumn foliage season of November and December, if you arrive via the main road like we did.



There is a way to get around the entrance fee though. An ancient footpath links Shicheng to the picturesque village of Changxi, a 4 hour hike beyond the other side of the lush green hills. This 10 km trail is well-known to Chinese hikers, and there are locals in both villages willing to act as walking guides for around RMB 150 (CAD$24). This was the one hike that captured my fascination among many hiking options in Wuyuan, and it was a shame that we didn't have time at the end.



TRANSPORTATION

While the seclusion of Shicheng deters most casual tourists, it's actually not difficult to get to.

The local transportation hub of Wuyuan will be easily accessible by high-speed rail with the scheduled opening of the new Wuyuan Station in 2013. By bus it's a 2 hour ride from either Huangshan City or Jingdezhen, each having its own airport. Most travelers tend to spend two or more days within Wuyuan, often splitting time between the eastern and northern parts of the county.

Once you're at Wuyuan, there is only one daily scheduled minibus between Wuyuan town and Shicheng village, departing Shicheng early in the morning (~06:00) and returning from Wuyuan town around noon. With early morning being the absolute best time to see the village, this bus schedule simply doesn't work for most visitors.



Private taxi is by far the best way to get to Shicheng. It's a long 55 km drive from Wuyuan town to Shicheng village, negotiating numerous hairpin turns up a steep mountain road in the final stretch. Also remember that unless you overnight inside the village, you want to get here before 07:00 and thus starting out from Wuyuan town by 05:45. As of late 2012, one full day's private taxi between Wuyuan town and Shicheng cost between RMB 300 (CAD$48) roundtrip in a minivan and RMB 400 (CAD$64) in a comfy sedan, reasonable prices if you have two or more people to share.



For solo travelers, 2- and 3-wheeled motorcycle taxis, known locally as "Modi," offer a cheap and flexible alternative, albeit at a much slower speed. A full day currently runs about RMB 80, though getting up the steep section towards Shicheng would be a definite challenge in inclemental weather, not to mention the dirt and mud splashes on the village roads. As a result we never considered this option.



If you're planning to do the hike between Shicheng and Changxi, one option is to hire a taxi or Modi from Wuyuan town for a day to see the villages in northern Wuyuan, ending with Shicheng. Sleep in one of the Nongjiale farmhouses (around RMB 120 for a double room) and have dinner with the locals (expect RMB 20 per person), then wake up and enjoy the priceless morning scenery. Have brunch, then hire a local guide for the 4 hour hike to Changxi, and either stay in Changxi village for the second night or hire a local car to drive back to Wuyuan town.



EPILOGUE

I'll never forget our taxi driver, Ms. Cheng. This is a story about the honourable, kind-hearted nature of the Wuyuan people.

A couple weeks prior to our trip I spotted an online advertisement of a private taxi driver with an SUV in Wuyuan. At the time I was researching a possibly treacherous mountain route linking Northern Wuyuan in Jiangxi to Southern Anhui and onto our next destination of Hongcun. So I called and found a husband-and-wife team of Mr. Zha and Ms. Cheng. While the hypothetical route didn't work out due to the huge distance and therefore the price involved, Mr. Zha did provide a lot of useful info and I decided to give them our business of driving us between Wuyuan town and Shicheng village.

But I kept the devil inside my details. We needed to get to Shicheng by 07:00, which required him to pick us up from Wuyuan at 05:45. And since Mr. Zha didn't even live in Wuyuan town, he probably would need to get up before 05:00. I actually felt guilty of having him drive the roundtrip of 110 km, starting from 05:00 in the morning, through mountain paths, in a gas-guzzling SUV, while only paying him the standard rate of RMB 350.



At 06:00 the SUV showed up outside our hotel with Mr. Zha's wife, a small lady in her 30's, being the driver of the day. Ms. Cheng was extremely polite and strong for her size with our heavy backpacks, and always spoke with a tone of sad realism as I often asked about life of the Laobaixing -- common folks -- in Wuyuan. From her I learned a lot about harsh life in the rapidly changing rural China -- rampant urbanization, skyrocketing apartment prices, questionable policies by local officials, and the desertion of ancestral villages by the younger generation.

Throughout my travels in China, it's always customary for passengers to buy lunch for the driver when a private taxi is hired for the entire day. As we started out at 06:00 in the morning, I offered Ms. Cheng breakfast at one of the Nongjiacai farmhouses in Shicheng village. She declined, to my slight surprise, saying that we could then spend more time on sightseeing. Such a sincere and honest lady, I thought, but nothing prepared me for what happened next.

It was mid-morning as we finished touring Shicheng, when SHE OFFERED US FREE BREAKFAST in the form of pre-packaged sponge cakes purchased from the village general store. A taxi driver spending her own money on the client is absolutely unheard-of for me. Granted it only cost RMB 10 or so, but as I knew rural taxi drivers don't run huge profit margins either. I was so moved that I didn't even dare touching any of her cakes -- she had a kid to feed at home.



A few more villages later and lunch-time approached. I've got to convince her to at least have lunch with us, I thought.

Again, she declined.

She turned down a free breakfast. She turned down a free lunch. At this point I came up with an offer I had been mulling for a while. At the end of the trip I offered to pay her RMB 380, 30 more than the agreed price. I even came up with the rationale that it's for the trouble of meeting us at the ridiculously early hour of 06:00. Now RMB 30 was only a Starbucks coffee in my home country, but over here it's a supper for three.

She declined, strongly and solidly, without any wavering whatsoever. And I'll never forget her reason for declining:

"The money you spend on traveling is hard-earned as well," she said simply. It left me speechless.

I'm still shaking my head five weeks later as I record this story -- the genuine honesty and sense of honour in these hardy people! If you need to book a taxi driver in Wuyuan and don't mind speaking Chinese, leave me a message and I can pass you their cellphone number. You won't find a more trustworthy taxi driver anywhere.

EDITOR'S NOTE: As of late 2014 this taxi driver is no longer in the taxi business, and as a result I will no longer give out her phone number. This is too bad for us travelers.

Sanqingshan - Hiking Among Taoist Relics and Granite Peaks

This is one of Eastern China's best hidden gems, IMHO.

Spectacular mountain scenery. Ancient relics. Great hikes. All within striking distance from Shanghai. Just a few hours of high-speed train and bus rides brought us to the National Park of Mount Sanqingshan.



You're not alone if you haven't heard of Sanqingshan. In fact my Chinese coworkers hadn't either ... until I returned from China with these pictures. You too can decide whether this place is worth your valuable vacation time.



Sanqingshan is actually far from being unknown. Its UNESCO World Heritage Site status puts it on the same level as the Grand Canyon or the Great Barrier Reef, and domestically it boasts the highest national rating as a tourist destination. Somehow it has mostly gone under the radar of even domestic Chinese tourists for years, though that's slowly changing.



Living on Canada's Westcoast, my foremost image of an alpine vista would be the turquoise lakes of the Canadian Rockies. But this place has given me a whole different appreciation for the beauty of mountains -- twisted pine trees clinging precariously to vertical cliffs, giant granite peaks protruding out of nowhere -- it's everyone's image of classical Chinese mountain scenery. I know it sounds funny but Kung Fu Panda comes to mind.



And Sanqingshan is more than just mountain landscapes -- it has been a Taoist sanctuary since the time of Romans and Huns in the western world, and the terrain is still dotted with ancient sculptures and relics from dynasties past. Curious travelers are rewarded with rediscoveries of statuettes of guardians or tigers, often buried inside the the overgrown vegetation. No signage or plaques exist to explain the artefacts -- just tour the mountain as an unofficial open-air museum. It's Disneyland for the inquisitive.



So why isn't this place more popular? Well it is -- every year it gets several million visitors, albeit almost exclusively local Chinese tourists on organized tours. During our hike we ran into only one group of foreigners -- a small party of senior Korean hikers with a tour guide. Western tourists mostly haven't discovered this place yet, and independent travelers are almost non-existent.

When we did our pre-trip research there was next to nothing on the English Internet about the hiking route, directions or how long it takes. The following is a short documentation of our experience.



THE HIKING ROUTE

We maximized our time and took a 7 hour, estimated 15 km loop that encompassed perhaps 80% of the major trails. Shorter loops are available for more relaxed strolls (we did see a fair number of Chinese grannies chugging along with us), while more advanced hikers can choose steeper trails that climb all the way up to the 1819m summit of Yujing Peak.



As in most Chinese national parks, Sanqingshan's trail system starts from the cable car stations at the top of the mountain. Two cable cars are available: the Jinsha Ropeway on the eastern slope, and the Waishuangxi Ropeway on the southern slope. We chose Jinsha as it offers simpler transportation to our next destination of Wuyuan (another AMAZING place ... more on that later).



So our hike began and finished at the Jinsha Ropeway, a short 10 minute ride up the elevation gain of 900m. Stepping out of our cable car at 08:00, the trail turned towards the right and slowly climbed towards a series of bizarre granite formations with even more bizarre names, from "Penguin Presenting the Peach" to "Fox Gnawing at the Chicken" (my translation). As the steepness of the stairs increased, the trail reached a small summit known as Yuhuang Peak. We arrived at the summit around 10:00.



A short distance further from Yuhuang Peak the trail passes a wobbly suspension bridge. Here begins a whopping 3.5 km of impossibly constructed footpaths of concrete slabs suspended in mid-air, supported by cantilever beams burrowed into near-vertical cliffs. Towards the end of this footpath, known as the Sunny Coast trail, the roads branches out with several options.

1) A small, steep trail on the left leads to Yujing Peak, the highest summit of the mountain range. We didn't take this trail as the ascend is supposed to take an hour each way.



2) The next branch-off splits into two trails. The left side leads directly to the middle of another mid-air footpath known as the West Coast trail. This is the most popular turn-back for visitors not intending to complete the full loop. Once arriving at the West Coast, turn left, and the trail travels eastward towards the southern cable car station, and eventually the eastern cable car station. This shorter loop, starting from the eastern cable car station, through Sunny Coast, half of West Coast and back to the eastern cable car station, is said to take about 6 hours according to pamphlets, though I would estimate it at closer to 5 hours for walkers of reasonable fitness.

3) We took the right branch towards the mystical Taoist sanctuary of Sanqinggong. This complete loop would add another 2 hours on top of the shorter loop.



Shortly past 11:00 we arrived in the neighborhood of Sanqinggong, a haven for Taoist alchemists seeking to refine the elixir of immortality since 4th Century AD. The closer we approached the shrine of Sanqinggong, the more deserted Taoist relics turned up on the wayside, including this giant relief sculpture of a dragon and its pearl of fire.



The current incarnation of Sanqinggong dates from mid Ming Dynasty more than 500 years back. In its heyday as a Taoist monastery complex, hundreds of monuments and architectural elements radiated out from the central shrine for kilometres. Now it's all but crumbling ruins.



But not to worry: to this date the shrine still features a Taoist incense- and amulet-dispensing clinic inside, waiting to perform the miracle of making your 100 RMB bills disappear in exchange for grossly over-priced incense sticks. Watch out for Taoist priests attempting to lead you further inside. As with most temples and shrines in China's tourist destinations, it's best to exercise caution and leave after a couple of quick pictures.



At Sanqinggong the paths branch off again. A trail on the left side just before the shrine led to a small tranquil lake where we had our picnic lunch of local specialty snacks, such as the pressed walnut cakes that we purchased from souvenir shops the previous day. This road turned into the start of the West Coast trail, another mid-air footpath of 4 km leading towards the southern cable car station.



The West Coast trail is, IMHO, the absolutely not-to-be-missed sight of Sanqingshan. On that glorious sunny day, every few steps we took led to a slightly different view of the towering granite peaks above and the nameless mountain ranges on the horizon. As we stopped frequently for the spectacular photospots along the route, it was already 13:45 by the time we reached the turnoff to the southern cable car station.



From the turnoff it's another long section of mid-air footpaths to return to the eastern cable car station. We arrived at the station around 15:00, exactly 7 hours after the start of our hike and still with 2 hours remaining before the cable car would shut down for the night. So here's our conclusion -- completing Sanqingshan's full loop in one day is definitely doable, even for office workers of mediocre fitness level like us.



Lastly, if you really want to climb Sanqingshan from the very bottom, two officially maintained trails are available. The simplest one follows the route of the Waishuangxi (southern) cable car from bottom to top and is said to take about 2.5 hours. An alternative trail starts from the town of Fenshui in the north (accessible by car or taxi only) and leads directly to the Taoist shrine of Sanqinggong with a 5 hour climb. Either way, this would take a two day trip with the night spent in one of the several hotels on the mountain top.



TRANSPORTATION

Assuming you're starting out from Shanghai like we did, Sanqingshan is actually pretty easy to reach.

Sanqingshan is situated at the eastern edge of Jiangxi, a province not famous for popular tourism even to the Chinese. But most people also don't realize that Sanqingshan is just one bus ride away from the new high-speed rail line between Shanghai and Changsha. That was how we chose to begin our journey.



High-speed trains depart Shanghai's Hongqiao Railway Station (accessible from Shanghai Metro Line 2) for Quzhou several times a day, en route to Changsha or beyond. We took the D105 which departed around 9 AM and arrived at Quzhou shortly past noon.



While the closest station to Sanqingshan is actually Yushan, high-speed trains currently don't stop there and train connections from Quzhou to Yushan are slow and somewhat limited. Buses from Yushan to Sanqingshan are very frequent though, so it's worthwhile to keep that as a last-minute alternative.



Upon arriving at Quzhou Railway Station, take a short taxi ride (RMB 10 or so) from to Quzhou Long Distance Bus Station (write "Quzhou Changtu Qichezhan" for the cabbie). It's less than two kilometres away. Then buy a ticket for JINSHA. Note that you have to ask for "Jinsha," NOT "Sanqingshan." I originally made the mistake of asking for Sanqingshan and the lady at the counter said the only bus for the day had left already! What she didn't know however was that Jinsha is actually the cable car station at the eastern slope of Sanqingshan. I spent an anxious 15 minutes to ask around and double-check the posted schedule before returning to the counter to get the correct tickets. At the time of writing, this bus departs at around 13:55.



With the train arriving at Quzhou around 12:30 and the bus departing at 14:00, there was plenty of time for a simple lunch. We picked a random noodle house across the street on Hesi Road. The Red-Braised Beef Noodles (RMB 12 or CAD$2) was much better than what I expected of a mom-and-pop eatery next to a dusty bus station, and was certainly better than our dinner at the foot of Sanqingshan that night. The name of the eatery was Laoniu Mianguan (Old Cattle's Noodle House), with a red store sign.



The rest was easy -- just sit back for a couple hours as the bus goes through some lush green countryside and the small villages of the Zhejiang-Jiangxi border. We arrived at the foot of Sanqingshan shortly past 16:00, in time to shop for water and food supplies for the next day's big hike.



But here's the best hidden secret about a trip to Sanqingshan -- the charming villages of Wuyuan (pictured above), reputed as the "most beautiful village in China," is only a short bus ride to the north. Multiple buses from Yushan and Shangrao towards Wuyuan pass by the town of Jinsha every day, the last one passing through around 18:50. So it's entirely possible to finish a day's hike, take the eastern cable car down to Jinsha, then flag down the bus as it passes the town's only road.

Or if you don't mind spending a little more for a private taxi like we did, our taxi ride from Jinsha to Wuyuan cost us RMB 200 and only took around an hour. We lucked out with an excellent driver, who spoke Chinese only but was an honest and great guy. He even sped up to try to get us to the Wuyuan Long Distance Bus Station before the ticket counter closed at 17:00. Leave me a message if you want his cell phone number.


ACCOMMODATION

Hotel Review: ELBA GARDEN HOTEL (Sanqingshan)
Address: Next to the Jinsha Ropeway station, Jinsha, Sanqingshan
Price: RMB 180
Website/Map: Book from Agoda.com
Directions: From the Jinsha cable car station, walk towards the right side of town. Elba should be one of the two or three nearest hotels.


We booked into one of Jinsha town's newest hotels, situated at an unbeatable location barely 200m from the cable car station. While the furniture was even flimsier than IKEA's, the bathroom was modern and very clean. The price of RMB 180 including breakfast was quite a good deal for a brand new room at the heart of a tourist town.



Our other option was to book one of the hotels at the mountain top for around RMB 400, but we chose this place instead as we didn't arrive early enough to do any hiking on the first day. The RMB 220 saved would more than pay for our taxi to Wuyuan the next afternoon.



The breakfast buffet consisted of typical Southern Chinese staples such as rice porridge and various pickles and condiments, and random items like Mantou buns and hard boiled eggs. Nothing fancy, but a second or third helping should provide enough fuel for a long day's hike.


FOOD


Nothing to report here except expensive and bad quality dishes you'd expect in typical tourist towns. We picked our restaurant based on the number of Chinese clients inside, and still walked into a rip-off. The Shenxian Doufu (literally "fairy tofu", which was actually a jelly made with Kudzu powder) pictured above came swimming in oil. A small dish of Dongsun Chaorou (stir-fried pork and winter bamboo shoots) featured some of the toughest bamboo shoots in memory. We carefully picked three of the cheaper dishes on the menu plus a beer, and escaped after putting down RMB 120 (CAD$19). Comparatively this was more expensive than our excellent dinners in Shanghai the previous two nights.

We did take something positive out of the experience though -- forget lunch at the mountain top eateries the next day, and grab some packable snacks from the souvenir stores for the hike!