Da da da...Our last trip in China as a trio?

 

Twin Pagoda Peaks area

The inexorable march of time goes on...and on, and on. Sadly, in our case it means the eventual seeing off of our daughter as she returns to the United States to begin her university studies. This makes the days counting down to that time precious ones. One way to enjoy our remaining time as a family trio is to travel somewhere together. In what will most likely be our last sojourn as a family unit for the foreseeable future took place last weekend, when we traveled to Chengde 承德, a city in Hebei province 河北省 225 kilometers/140 miles northwest of Beijing 北京. What makes the city noteworthy is its historical setting as a summer residence for the Qing 清朝 emperors. For this reason (and at the urging of my Lonely Planet guidebook) we made the drive from our residence and into a snippet of Chinese history. What follows are the highlights of our brief visit. 

Friday

By car it takes about 3½ hours from Beijing to Chengde. In an attempt to get ahead of the weekend, and following a medical appointment at a local hospital, we were on the road beginning around 1530 hours. And while traffic was heavy within Beijing and when we arrived in Chengde in time for Friday's rush hour peak, we had the expressways largely to ourselves for the bulk of the journey. It's a pity it rained for almost the entire duration, making it difficult to enjoy any scenery. We were checked into our room at the Shenghua Hotel 盛华大酒店 before 1900 hours. For dinner we walked to a restaurant a short stroll from our lodgings:

The restaurant's "special dish" 特色菜 was this lamb hotpot, but I preferred the grilled venison (not pictured):

"Subtlety" isn't a word that usually comes to mind when describing modern Chinese restaurants, and this establishment was no exception, whether it be the chandelier hanging over the lazy susan in our dining room or this Sino "game of thrones" chair in the waiting area out front:

 

Chengde may be an old city, but the area where we stayed was the modern face of the municipality. Like many Chinese cities with sea- or riverfronts, the authorities in Chengde have devoted money and time to light up the scenery along the Wulie River:

Saturday

Our brief visit to Chengde began in earnest with a Didi ride to Putuozongcheng Temple 普陀宗乘之庙, the largest temple in the city. We entered through a stele pavilion:

Next up was a triple archway topped with five stupas colored red, green, yellow, white and black:

We soon came face to face with the Red Palace, obviously inspired by the famous Potala Palace in Lhasa, Tibet. Most of the temple's main halls and shrines would be found here:

Carvings (vandalism?) left by occupying Japanese soldiers during the Second Sino-Japanese War:

The view from the roof of the palace. It's surprisingly difficult to find information online in English on "Hammer Rock" 磬锤峰, even though it's an unusual, presumably natural formation that can be seen from many points in Chengde:

Hidden among all the Buddhist tourist tat was a small Mao Zedong 毛泽东 figurine. Surprising as it was the Great Helmsman who ordered the invasions of Tibet in 1950 and 1959, and then later unleashed the Cultural Revolution 文化大革命 on the Tibetan people, resulting in death, misery and the widescale destruction of their culture. The cost of "liberation from feudalism" would be a steep price to pay:

I generally don't like taking photographs of people without their consent, which explains why the subject of the picture below is so far away. I took the shot as an example of what can only be described as "cultural appropriation, Chinese-style". There are 56 officially recognized nationalities in China, though 92% of the population is considered Han 汉族. The government promotes the existence of these non-Han Chinese groups to demonstrate that China is a multiethnic state (though the 16 officially recognized indigenous tribes in Taiwan are lumped by the Chinese Communist Party into one ethnic group called Gaoshan 高山族, which literally means "high mountain tribe", even though the term "mountain people" is now considered in Taiwan as a slur towards aboriginal people). 

For many Han Chinese, the existence of these ethnic groups is largely confined to tourist sites, where song and dance shows are put on for tour groups. Han visitors often will dress up in colorful native outfits and pose for photos. At Putuozongcheng Temple that was manifested in many (mostly female) visitors donning "Tibetan" outfits for selfie purposes. What you will never read or see in China are in depth articles and reports on the difficulties faced by these ethnic groups in a society overwhelmingly dominated by Han Chinese (who themselves are a diverse lot):

"Little Potala Palace" 小布达拉宫 was an interesting temple to visit, but it also served as a reminder that it is highly unlikely that I would ever be allowed to visit Tibet, due to my present line of work. But even if I could, would I want to? In an effort to dilute Tibetan nationalism, the government in recent has encouraged so many Han Chinese to move to the autonomous region that the ethnic makeup there has been significantly altered by most reports. From what I've heard and read, Lhasa now largely resembles most other cities in China, though one with a handful of exceptional tourist sites.  

Politics and demographics aside, it was a hot and humid morning at the Buddhist temple, though the grape juice drink I had just after we exited provided a brief respite:

The entrance ticket to Putuozongcheng Temple also included admission to the Temple of Sumeru, Happiness & Longevity 须弥福寿之庙, another huge Tibetan-inspired temple, this one built in honor of the sixth Panchen Lama, who stayed there in 1781. As my wife wanted to move on to the next stop on our itinerary, we didn't stay too long:

With stomachs beginning to rumble, we took another Didi to the entrance to the Bishu Shanzhuang 避暑山庄 historic site. But before going in, we searched for a place to have lunch in a nearby shopping mall, eventually settling on a Hainan hot pot restaurant. Afterward, it was back into the heat and humidity, though this time my daughter was better prepared:

Bishu Shanzhuang means "Fleeing-the-Heat Mountain Villa", and served as a garden and palace complex for the Qing emperors to escape Beijing's sticky summer heat. Shu-E and I were both hoping to enjoy some peace and solitude in China's largest royal gardens, but we weren't prepared for the sheer number of visitors:

It was difficult for me to appreciate the various halls and rooms of the former palace, so I left it up to my wife to try and see what was inside some of the buildings:

Shu-E most wanted to get to the highest point in the complex, reached only by shuttle bus (trails exist, but hiking uphill in the 31°C/88°F heat was not an enticing prospect). The lines to get on a shuttle were long, of course, but we did get good views of the two temples we had visited earlier that day:

A much needed ice cream once we had returned to the lower levels:

The huge number of visitors put paid to any notions of enjoying any quiet, contemplative strolls, though the humidity also played a role:

The small Falin Temple 法林寺 did provide a brief but quiet respite from the crowds:

One of the many tourist boats plying the waters of the villa:

With dinnertime approaching we found ourselves a short walk from the Bishu Shanzhuang at a branch of the Magic Room 魔法厨房西餐厅, a restaurant chain in the northeastern region of China (but with no eateries in Beijing):

The witch's forest lair theme no doubt appeals to families with young children, but the international menu charmed me, as I ordered the grilled steak for dinner (with cheesecake for dessert):

As we learned our hotel was less than 15 minutes away on foot, we eschewed a Didi and instead strolled along the river after dinner. Many parks in China are equipped with various forms of exercise equipment, prompting Amber to call them "Disneylands for old people":

Kids today...:

Sunday

Another day, another Tibetan-influenced temple. Puning Temple 普宁寺 dates from 1755, and was modelled in part on a Tibetan Buddhist monastery. The first half of the temple, however, was clearly Chinese in design:

The Tibetan buildings were in the rear:

Amber spins some prayer wheels. Turning them all left my arm feeling very tired:

The atmosphere at Puning Temple was much more religious compared to Putuozongcheng Temple. Whereas the latter attracted camera-toting tourists, the former (being the only active Buddhist temple in Chengde) drew many of the devout in addition to the leisure visitors like ourselves:

The main attraction drawing in the believers and the curious alike was the statue of Guanyin (the Buddhist Goddess of Mercy) in the Mahayana Hall, hewn from five different kinds of wood and standing tall and proud at 22 meters/72 feet:

To the right of the goddess stands a male guardian:

The Guanyin statue has 42 arms; the palm of each arm bore an eye:

A female guardian stands to the left of the goddess:

What the statue looks like as you face it. The only way to take it all in was to get as close to the front as allowed and then crane your neck upward:

Looking down at the rear of the Mahayana Hall:

The girls take a peek inside one of the buildings:

Within the grounds is Puyou Temple 普佑寺, closed to visitors and missing its main hall:

As we had checked out of the hotel that morning, we were in our own wheels and thus didn't need to rely on Didi rides as we did the day before. Finished at Puning Temple and feeling hungry, we drove to, and parked at, our next (and final destination), but then headed across street to first have lunch. Nourishment for me was Lǔròufàn 卤肉饭, braised rice with pork and soy sauce:

Stomachs full, it was time to check out Twin Pagodas Peak 双塔山, another Chinese tourist site with seemingly sparse information online in English. The small museum where we stopped after buying our tickets and entering the grounds wasn't very interesting, with the exception of the pair of Qidan Mummies on display:

But people don't come to Twin Pagodas Peak to see dusty dioramas of  imperial processions. The draw is the two club-shaped rocks, reached by either a short hike or (for the old and lazy like Shu-E and myself) via a chair lift:

In our defense, it was another stultifying hot day:

According to the signage, the north peak stands 35 meters/115 feet in height, while its southern counterpart is about 30 meters/98 feet tall. Both are topped with a brick tower 5.2 meters/17.1 feet high. They were apparently built there 1300 years ago during the Liao dynasty 辽朝; according to my wife, no one knows the builders put them up there, though if I were to posit a theory, I would surmise scaffolding played a role:

China's more modern side was visible from the top:

The white streaks seen on the right in the photo below was a small waterfall:

From the pagodas we took a walk to another viewpoint...:

...then hopped on the chairlift for the return trip past the Twin Pagodas and back down to the entrance:

The drive home to Beijing took longer than the trek late Friday afternoon to Chengde. Not only was our arrival poorly timed to coincide with the end of the weekend rush back to the capital, we were also delayed by a half-hour thanks to a police checkpoint (a reminder we live in an authoritarian state) holding up traffic on the expressway (our car, bearing diplomatic plates, was waved through). 

Frankly speaking I was somewhat disappointed with Chengde, though perhaps the problem is more mine as I was imagining more of a picturesque town than a modern Chinese city with traffic problems that we encountered. The two Tibetan temples we visited were interesting; as for the summer palace, it might actually have lived up to the guidebook hype had there not been so many people visiting. The sheer number of tourists (ourselves included) detracted greatly from the atmosphere the gardens had promised. Best to probably visit on a weekday in any season other than summer.

Still, it was good to leave Beijing for a few days, a final family getaway before our daughter embarks on a new adventure. The girls will be off to the States next weekend, followed by your humble scribe a bit afterward, for some rest and recuperation, before Shu-E and I send our one and only offspring off to college. It's going to be a radically altered domestic situation by the time my wife and I return to Beijing in the fall.

For those of you wondering about the title of this post: