[Three People, Ten Thousand Miles: #35] 10-Day Summer Trip in 2021 to Wuhan, Inner Mongolia, and Ningxia

📍 Auckland · 👁 1 reads · ❤️ 31 likes

The sudden outbreak of the pandemic in 2020 has yet to show signs of abating, disrupting work and daily life in so many ways. We, who love traveling around, hadn’t taken a long trip together for a year and a half, and our child was also longing for a change of scenery. Given that the virus was only appearing sporadically in localized areas, we decided to go to Hohhot, Ordos, and Baotou in Inner Mongolia, as well as Ningxia, in late July. But just after we booked the flights, an outbreak hit Nanjing and showed signs of spreading further—so our cheerful mood turned a little anxious.

Let’s start with a trip summary:

Duration: July 23 to August 1, 2021, 10 days total.

People: 3.

Cost: 17,000 RMB.

Travel mode: train and car rental.

To avoid crowded megahubs, we chose to fly from Zhanjiang Airport, transit in Wuhan, then on to Ordos. We also planned a one-day stopover in Wuhan to see how the heroic city was doing a year later.

On the evening of July 23, we flew from Zhanjiang at 8 p.m. and arrived at Wuhan Tianhe Airport at 10 p.m. During the pandemic, personal protection is key, so we wore N95 masks the entire flight.

By 11 p.m. we checked into the Ibis Hotel near Hubu Alley. The location was super convenient—just a few minutes’ walk to the Yangtze River Bridge and Yellow Crane Tower.

Hubu Alley was sparse with few visitors, and honestly there wasn’t much to see or eat—just a check-in spot.

The pandemic was spreading to Zhangjiajie, so it was crucial to stay protected. That’s why many photos from this trip show us looking like masked heroes.

There were several shops selling ice jelly—something we’d never tried. We gave it a go; not great.

The Yangtze River Bridge at eleven-something at night. The lights on both banks were already off. I heard the night lighting is beautiful; pity we were too late.

There’s a pedestrian walkway on the bridge too.

The next afternoon we returned to the bridge. Sigh. Backlit again.

The Yangtze was wide and the current swift, yet quite a few people were swimming.

Yellow Crane Tower—with its fame, we just had to visit.

The original structure is underneath the bridge; this one only has the three characters “Yellow Crane Tower” that are real.

Still, it has a majestic presence.

Of course, there are no rare treasures inside, but modern works are worth appreciating.

The “Record of Yellow Crane Tower”—was that ever a school text? I honestly have no memory of it.

From the tower, you can take in the whole city and the grand bridge.

Wuhan is famous for crawfish, so that was lunch.

Liangliang Steamed Shrimp—usually we eat them spicy, but this was our first time trying steamed. The shrimp were big and pretty good.

East Lake, a free 5A scenic area. The lake is so vast we only covered a tiny corner.

It felt ordinary, nothing special.

The Hubei Provincial Museum is right by East Lake. We got to the gate only to find out you needed a reservation—and it was fully booked. Opposite, the Hubei Museum of Art allowed onsite reservations, so we settled for that and went in.

We don’t understand art; we just looked around for fun.

“Mom, how can I get that chubby?”

We went back to the 1911 Revolution Memorial Hall near Yellow Crane Tower, only for it to close at 4 p.m. We arrived at exactly five past four. Missed it—again.

Having come all this way, we just had to take a photo with our fellow townsman.

Across the street, we had hot dry noodles at Cai Lin Ji. A trip to Wuhan without trying it would be a waste, right?

We hailed a DiDi to Wuhan Tianhe Airport. The driver shared stories from the lockdown in early 2020—full of bitterness, helplessness, gratitude, joy, and hope. Turns out, safety and health matter most. I sincerely hope the pandemic ends soon and life returns to normal.

Our flight was at 9-something in the evening, delayed by an hour, landing in Ordos close to midnight.

On the morning of the 25th, we took a Didi to the Genghis Khan Mausoleum, costing over 120 yuan. There didn’t seem to be many DiDi drivers in Ordos; the car we got was a regular taxi. It might have been cheaper to flag down a cab directly.

Genghis Khan was not actually buried here; the mausoleum only houses some of his belongings.

A proud son of Heaven—what majesty.

As outsiders, we don’t know much about Mongolian customs and culture, so we just strolled and looked around.

Inside, the items on display are all said to have been used by Genghis Khan.

The mausoleum is not large; you can finish in an hour. The exit signs were unclear; actually, you just follow the same path back.

The driver waited outside and took us back to downtown’s Genghis Khan Square for 100 yuan.

The Kangbashi district of Ordos was once nicknamed a ghost town. Over a decade of development, it has gradually gained life and become a garden-like city with straight roads and greenery that impressed even me, a southerner. Now the whole district is a 4A tourist attraction.

The museum—unfortunately, pressed for time, we had to miss it again.

To build such a garden city in the north—sincere admiration.

Not inferior to Zhuhai.

It’s the Party’s correct line that enables the people to live a happy life.

The hardworking Chinese people, with their own hands, have created one miracle after another.

In the afternoon, we took a train to Hohhot, arriving in the evening. The normally dry northwest suddenly saw heavy rain, but of course rain couldn’t stop our determination to find food.

Gerile’ama Restaurant next to Dazhao Temple—time to try Mongolian cuisine.

In Inner Mongolia, you simply can’t avoid mutton.

Luckily, the mutton had no gamey smell and was very fragrant.

Everything was a first for us. I’ve forgotten the names again; sweet, no weird flavors, pretty good.

Nighttime on Saishang Old Street.

Daytime on Saishang Old Street.

Still not many people around. It seems the pandemic has really dampened travel nationwide.

Hohhot (as locals call it) has a sizable Hui population, so the Great Mosque is quite large.

Actually, all religions guide people toward goodness; the fear is that those with ill intent misinterpret them.

In Dazhao Temple Square stands a tall bronze statue of Alatan Khan, the founder of Hohhot.

The real name of Dazhao Temple turns out to be Wuse Temple. “Zhao” means temple, so many places around Inner Mongolia with “Zhao” in their names are temples.

Dazhao Temple is a Tibetan Buddhist monastery, but it felt somewhat Sinicized, borrowing from both sides.

The architecture is quite Chinese in style.

Spin the prayer wheel, bring a little luck.

Touch the ox head, catch a big winner every day!!

The white pagodas outside also confirm it’s a Tibetan Buddhist monastery.

Across the street there’s also Yanshou Temple, also called Xilitu Zhao. We didn’t go in due to time.

The most famous snack in Inner Mongolia is actually shaomai—the very same dim sum that’s a staple at our Cantonese morning tea. I’d always thought it was invented by us Cantonese!

We found a well-known place, Deshunyuan, to give it a try.

The portions were huge; again we ordered too much. It was delicious but impossible to finish.

The Shaomai Street of China—shows just how much Hohhot residents love their shaomai.

On the afternoon of the 26th, we took a train to Baotou.

Hohhot Station.

Arrived at Baotou Station in the evening.

For convenience, we rented a car next to the station.

Roasted beef bone—extremely fragrant. Two jin for three people wasn’t enough, but when we wanted more, it was sold out.

The most popular drink in Inner Mongolia and Ningxia is Da Yao soda. The Hui avoid alcohol, which is great.

By the time we got to the park, it was 8 p.m. and still not fully dark. Around here, night falls around 8:30.

A huge expanse of grassland in the city, many people strolling.

The grass was very tall. If there were cattle and sheep among it, even the wind couldn’t reveal them.

On the morning of the 27th, we headed to Xiangshawan. It’s in Ordos but only an hour’s drive from Baotou.

We bought the sightseeing ticket only, including a round-trip cable car but no amusement rides—90 yuan per person.

The cable car just crosses a ravine, and you’re right at the desert area.

Our child loves playing in the sand. We bought a sand slider at the entrance for 70 yuan—now he had all the play he wanted.

The sand dunes are tough to climb; without constant effort, you slide right back. Every step takes several times the energy of flat ground.

Our child was the one with the stamina, scrambling up painstakingly, only to slide down in seconds, yet he never tired of it, full of drive.

Tired, taking a rest.

“Mom, you’re tired—I’ll pull you!”

Now this is the true ship of the desert.

Xiangshawan also has an amusement zone where you can ride camels, go on dune-bashing vehicles, and other wallet-draining activities. I’ve ridden camels before and no desire to repeat; dune-bashing is too thrilling, so we passed (basically—no money!!!).

The Lotus Hotel costs over 3,000 a night—too low-grade, we won’t stay there either (in the end, still no money).

We returned to town, washed up at the hotel, had takeout, and checked out right at 3 p.m.

Our child is crazy about weapons. Rare chance to visit a weapons city—we hurried over.

A complete collection of planes, cannons, tanks, and military vehicles.

He had to touch and climb on every last one. Under the blazing sun, I was dizzy and dazzled, but he couldn’t be happier.

Baotou and our Maoming—two industrial cities at the start and end of the Baotou–Maoming Expressway. I feel Baotou is larger and better built than Maoming.

Evening train to Yinchuan. No soft sleepers left; we only got hard sleepers.

The whole journey took over six hours, arriving at Yinchuan Station close to 1 a.m.

On the 28th, we slept in, then took a DiDi to the Western Xia Imperial Tombs.

The Western Xia Museum.

The museum gave a detailed introduction to Western Xia history.

The Western Xia lasted just over 190 years, yet it created its own script and followed Confucianism, allowing its society and productivity to flourish. Surrounded by powerful enemies in the west, it endured for over a century.

The artifacts unearthed and displayed were quite rich.

We exited the museum and continued by vehicle to the tomb area.

The sightseeing bus only stops at Tomb No. 3.

Tomb No. 3 belongs to Li Yuanhao, the founding emperor of Western Xia. It’s the largest and best preserved.

A one-time hegemon now slumbers alone for a thousand years in the vast desert, rediscovered only by accident, nearly lost in the torrent of history.

The tombs lie at the foot of the Helan Mountains.

Half an hour by Didi from the Western Xia tombs brought us to Zhenbeibao Film Studio.

Zhenbeibao is the largest film studio in western China, having produced countless films and TV works. “Red Sorghum” and “A Chinese Odyssey” are probably the most famous.

I want to try what it’s like to be an official.

The Moon Gate is the main setting of “Red Sorghum.” I’ve seen the film, but it was so long ago, I’ve forgotten it.

The spider spirit’s bath from “A Chinese Odyssey.”

So run-down it’s almost shocking; on screen, it fits right in. No wonder they say movies are all lies.

The “Red Sorghum” shooting set.

There’s also a live demonstration of liquor-making, the whole room filled with the aroma of wine.

The house where Gong Li and Jiang Wen lived in the movie.

Even Dragon Inn—I’ve got to venture in.

If you were as long-winded as Tang Monk, I’d tie you up there too.

The film studio is seriously huge. After covering a third of it, we were sun-baked and exhausted, really wanting to just find a place to sit.

One of the most famous scenes at the end of “A Chinese Odyssey.”

You two are faking it way too badly; go home and seriously study “The Self-Cultivation of an Actor.”

Finally, a place to rest and have a drink. “A Chinese Odyssey” runs 365 days a year non-stop—probably unique in the world. Wonder if it’s applied for a Guinness World Record.

And just at that moment, it got to “I wish it were ten thousand years”—impressive!

Zixia fairies everywhere. Be careful to pick the right one; don’t go home with the wrong girl.

In such a shabby place, they made a film I’ve watched I don’t know how many times. Stephen Chow, you’re the one I truly admire.

We went inside but didn’t see any spider spirit.

For dinner, Hongliuzhi BBQ. The scene was overwhelming—dozens of tables all waiting for their number.

The lamb skewers were a bit gamey; our child ate them all. The lamb chops were okay.

The pedestrian street opposite the Drum Tower.

On the 29th, we rented a car—a VW T-ROC, three days for 1,000 yuan.

We arrived at Shuidonggou Scenic Area by 10:30 a.m. The all-inclusive ticket was 168 yuan per person, covering electric cart, camel ride, dune buggy, boat ride, horse cart, camel cart, tractor—basically every kind of vehicle you’ve seen or never seen, you can experience them all here. That’s the biggest feature of this scenic spot.

The Shuidonggou Site Museum. As usual, we had to go inside first and learn some archaeology.

There’s also a live simulation show—very impressive.

Stone tools from 30,000 years ago excavated at Shuidonggou.

We took the electric cart to the first stop, “Zhang San’s House.” Back then, the French archaeology team stayed in Zhang San’s home, and later they discovered the primitive human site at Shuidonggou.

Replicas of primitive dwellings.

Let me be a crazy primitive man too.

“All soldiers, hear my command—attack immediately and drive the enemy back to the Mongolian grasslands!”

Beyond this Great Wall is Mongolian territory.

Stepping past the wall, we’re back in Ordos, Inner Mongolia.

As our kid said, we’ve walked for a week and still haven’t left Ordos. So how big is Ordos?

Another camel ride.

After that, the sand buggy.

The dunes here barely qualify as slopes, but the vehicle is large and the ride is thrilling enough. When the thrills run short, sound effects fill in—every one of us amateur actors screamed our lungs out.

We returned through the Great Wall and entered the reed marsh.

Southerners had never seen reeds so tall and widespread.

The original archaeological dig site.

Clear skies, a painting with figures.

Then a boat ride.

The lake was clear, waterbirds flitted in all directions.

The cart driver sang folk songs the whole way, and everyone shared laughter and cheer.

Our camel brothers had been waiting long—off we went eagerly.

Tibetan Army Cave, built during the Ming Dynasty. If enemies attacked, defenders could move from above-ground fortifications into the tunnels.

The cave was dim and full of deadly traps.

Outside the cave is Hongshan Fortress, the Ming garrison’s main camp.

Finally, we rode the deluxe tractor back to the parking lot. The whole tour was over, lasting about five hours.

Our journey continued. After 4 p.m. we arrived in Wuzhong. Our first planned stop was the Yellow River Tower, but for some reason it was closed. We had to settle for a view from the opposite bank.

The Yellow River Tower is grand and magnificent—such a pity we couldn’t go inside.

Dinner at Guoqiang Hand-Grasped Mutton, Ningxia’s most famous chain restaurant, and this was the flagship main store.

The signature dish, hand-grasped lamb chops—fragrant, tender, smooth, not a trace of gamey flavor.

Needless to say, we ordered too much again.

We stayed that night at a hotel above Wanda Plaza.

Early on the 30th, we headed to the Qingtongxia Yellow River Grand Canyon Scenic Area.

First, we learned about Ningxia’s water conservancy projects through the ages. It turns out that over a millennium, generations of laboring people created these irrigation miracles with their own hands, earning Ningxia the reputation “Oasis beyond the Great Wall.”

It wasn’t our first encounter with the Yellow River, but this was beyond yellow—it was practically a red river.

The Qingtongxia hydro-junction, built in the late 1950s, serves multiple purposes: flood control, irrigation, and power generation.

We took a boat to tour a stretch of the Yellow Sea (an upstream reservoir), where the river surface was calm.

About ten minutes later, we reached the 108 Stupas.

From afar, these stupas looked tiny. Climbing up, they were actually quite tall.

We retraced our steps, exited the scenic area, spending less than 3 hours inside.

We continued on to Zhongwei. Route 66 has become an Internet-famous spot lately, so we went along with the trend. Leaving Zhongwei city and passing Shapotou, then driving several kilometers on a national road crammed with gigantic trucks, we turned onto a highway along the Yellow River—asphalt all the way and in good condition. Lovely scenery the entire route, with pulloffs to stop and play anytime.

An up-close meeting with the Yellow River.

The place was packed with people snapping pics on Route 66, many accompanied by professional photography teams.

Actually, it’s just an ordinary mountain road; it certainly can’t compare to the U-shaped road on National Highway 315 in Qinghai.

We finished our photo session around 6 p.m. We’d originally booked a desert room to watch the sunset—looked like we might miss it.

Passing through Shapotou again, we entered Alxa, Inner Mongolia. We parked at a designated lot and took a shuttle vehicle into the heart of the Tengger Desert.

That night we stayed in a little wooden cabin—1,000 yuan, with air conditioning and a bathroom (we didn’t expect the bathroom only allowed hand-washing and toilet use; no shower—you had to use public washrooms).

The room was nice enough, very clean.

We dropped off our luggage and hurried up a sand dune. The sun was just about to set—7:59 p.m.

In a mere five minutes, the yolk-like sun vanished behind the dunes. Looks like we had some luck after all!

Our youngster resumed sand sliding.

Again and again—young people truly never seem to tire.

You stand on the dune watching the scenery; the scenery-watchers on the dune watch you.

At night there was a BBQ, performances, a bonfire, and fireworks—a really rich program. However, with the pandemic still spreading in recent days, the three of us decided not to join the crowd.

By midnight, our child had climbed the sand mountain over ten times, exhausted, and fell asleep early. Finally, we two had a chance to enjoy some couple time. We climbed back onto the dune; silence all around. We sat quietly on the sand, looking up at a sky full of stars—I remember only ever seeing so many stars as a child in the countryside.

Aging brings insomnia. I woke naturally before 6 a.m., so out I went to watch the sunrise.

At 6:05, the sun slowly rose.

It took only ten-some minutes for its light to spill over the land.

Tenacious little creatures in the desert—I wonder how they survive, where they find food.

On the 31st, after breakfast, we headed back out toward Zhongwei. On the way, we passed Tonghu Grasslands Scenic Area.

Snapped a few photos as a memento.

So sparse—does this even qualify as grassland?

Camels everywhere, ready to cross the road at any moment. Driving in Alxa, you really could crash into a camel—better be careful and go slow.

There was still one last scenic spot today: Shapotou. Most people enter from the Yellow River zone, but coming from Alxa we happened to pass the desert zone entrance, the Gate of Heaven, so we chose to enter there.

Solar panels line the roads all over Ningxia. The sunshine here is incredibly intense—every day we were baked, almost turning into Africans.

The Gate of Heaven entrance had very few visitors; staff may have outnumbered tourists.

The main ticket for Shapotou was 80 yuan, plus 40 yuan for the park shuttle. For 120 yuan, you could go to the Yellow River zone and back to the desert zone. Medical staff and police even got free entry—totally unexpected; pity we didn’t bring our IDs.

On this trip we’d played in two major desert scenic areas—we’d had our fill of sand to the point of nausea. So the night before, we’d given our sand slider away to a child and went light. No more sand that day; just being a clean, handsome guy.

The pandemic’s blow to tourism is truly fatal. The camel teams were sparse; 90% of the camels were dozing.

Only a handful of people on the dune buggy.

Just as we got off the shuttle from the desert zone to the Yellow River zone, the phone rang. It was our hostel owner in Yinchuan airport town. He told us a confirmed COVID case had appeared in a nearby hotel, the town was locked down, we couldn’t check in, and asked us to cancel the reservation. A wave of unease swept over me.

The Yellow River makes a big bend right in front of the scenic area.

We took an extremely long escalator down to the riverbank.

A super-tall sand sliding track. So many people had slid that deep grooves were worn; sliding speed was very slow, and many got stuck halfway.

Our main goal was to try the sheepskin raft. 120 yuan per person—ride the raft downstream, then return by speedboat.

The Yellow River looks calm, but on that tiny raft with five people, it rocked alarmingly. A bit nerve-wracking.

After a few minutes on the speedboat, we were back at the original dock.

Goodbye, Shapotou.

We boarded the sightseeing bus back to the Gate of Heaven. By then, the itinerary of that confirmed case in Yinchuan was published online. A chill ran down my spine—he’d visited Shuidonggou on the 29th, same as us. Racking my brain, I recalled he arrived over an hour before us and left early; our times never overlapped, so we couldn’t have met. But the fear and worry were inevitable. I wanted to change our flight and fly home immediately, but we couldn’t make it back to Yinchuan in time. Dazed and anxious, I drove back to Yinchuan, returned the car, and hid in the hotel, not daring to go out again. I tossed and turned all night. At 5 a.m. on August 1, we took a Didi to the airport, caught a flight after 7 a.m., and landed in Guangzhou at 10:30 a.m., wearing N95 masks the whole way, not even daring to sip water.

We transferred to a high-speed train and arrived home safely in the afternoon. We didn’t even contact family members; the three of us quarantined on one floor for seven days, only going out for three COVID tests. Finally, on the 21st, tests were negative, and the weight hanging over our hearts for so many days at last came to rest.

Travel brings joy and also hardship. Of course, nothing in the world is perfect—that’s life!

Travelogue Index

1. One-Day Tour of Wuhan City

2. Genghis Khan Mausoleum

3. Genghis Khan Square

4. Hohhot City Center

5. Saishang Old Street

6. Great Mosque

7. Dazhao Temple

8. Baotou City Center

9. Saihan Tala Urban Grassland

10. Xiangshawan