Juxtapositions: Into the Fragrant Hills

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Into the Fragrant Hills

Driving west: note the yellow taxi. We were in one of these.

May 13th, Friday

Sha and her mother came to the hotel to make sure that we all got taxis going in the right direction today, with written instructions and maps. As we drove towards the northwestern edge of the city along the ring road we could see the steep hills ahead.

A scenic spot at the foot of Xianglu Feng

It cost us ¥10 apiece to enter the park at the foot of the Fragrant Hills (Xiangshan) with its goldfish ponds, pools, waterfalls, bridges and colourful flower beds. Beyond, we could choose to climb Xianglu Feng, (557m) on foot or take the chairlift. A summer breeze was blowing––"Cable car closed for gale"––so we had to abandon that option. George persuaded us to try walking up the mountain.

Half way up, Sally had had enough of climbing steps in the heat of the sun, so we veered off the path to the summit following a trail into the shade where it was cooler.

The hillside, with wild wisteria

On the lower slopes, with a view of the city in the distance

This forest used to be the imperial hunting grounds, enclosed by a wall 5 km long (the jing yi garden) and the fragrance of the hills comes mostly from the pine needles, pine trees growing among cypresses (cedars), with maples, smoke trees, persimmon trees, wisteria, hydrangeas, wild apricots and sumac. Retaining walls were built around the trunks of the cypresses overhanging the paths. In some respects it was not so different from Canada. We saw and heard what looked like blue jays, magpies, Chinese chickadees, a woodpecker and a sort of peacock with a long tail. There was a squirrel feeding station for Siberian chipmunks, the Père David's Rock Squirrel (according to the translation on the notice) and long, thin, dark ones with tufted ears.

This hillside was named the Garden of Tranquility and Pleasure until in 1860 during the Opium Wars the Anglo-French troops came along and burned down all the old temples in a fit of pique because the Chinese refused to trade with them. I call that bad behaviour.

Swallows painted under the eaves of a pavilion

Although we never spotted them we heard Chinese girls singing folk songs in the distance as we walked along. They're a healthy nation, the older people walking up and down steep hills with their walking sticks easily and cheerfully. Occasionally for minutes at a time we had the trail to ourselves, but not for long. We saw no other westerners. Many painted pavilions to rest in, one of which had peaceful courtyards where we could buy packets of rice crisps and pistachios to nibble. Chris was after a bar of chocolate but didn't find one.

At the bottom of the hill again, outside the East Gate, we found some more snacks for sale, pancakes filled with chopped, stir fried greens and scrambled egg. We knew the hens were free range because they and their chicks were scuttling around on the pavement under our feet. There were other little shops or shacks selling nuts, nicknacks and fruit (blackberries, strawberries, watermelons and peaches). We got the impression that the owners lived on the premises, somewhere at the back.

We caught the 630 bus back to the city, George and I following our route on the map in order to work out when to get off. We really had to concentrate because very few signs were in English! It was rattly and bumpy at the back but not overcrowded and a breeze blew in through the open windows.