Chongqing Travelogue
It had been five years since my previous visit to Chongqing. I should have gone back earlier. This journey, like the one to Guangxi, was a trip that had been postponed for two or three years. Chongqing at last.
I went to Hongya Cave, Luo Zhongli Art Museum, and took a cruise on the two rivers. The cruise was during the day, and I saw signs on both banks that said 'once on board, you are a Chongqing native.' At the Luo Zhongli Art Museum, the grassy meadow with a mirror where passersby could check their appearance—once my favorite spot—now has a restaurant built opposite it. A scene straight out of Alice in Wonderland, with its green meadows and lakeshore, now faces a restaurant. It creates a wonderful blend of life and art. Walking to the canteen on the Sichuan Fine Arts Institute campus, lazy rock with English lyrics played, and strolling down the tree-shaded, lush green campus road genuinely lifted my mood. I had brought a cup of coffee along. Yes, this school is truly special, and coming to Chongqing was the right choice. That graffiti wall was an entire building shaped like a huge colosseum, its exterior covered in street art. The spot where I once had so much fun taking photos—it used to be a whole wall of orange-colored trees. Perhaps due to the pandemic, that sight is no longer accessible, so the graffiti was extended over the entire building facade. No books, but the red tree from Xiaohongshu (Little Red Book), and next to it a cyan-green wall with an auspicious pattern as large as a reclining Buddha, painted in Zhejiang blue, with a golden mouth and inside a Pudong New Area blue tongue. Below, Belt and Road wave-like ribbons—four or several—and underneath, three faces made of gears, with ruyi shapes in Zhejiang common-prosperity-blue and black. On top, three pumpkin-colored phoenix crown patterns. Two or three sides were orange, with a large male figure, one hand pointing down. I still took many lovely photos there. Sichuan Fine Arts Institute once again took me in, filling my heart with joy and peace.
And that large sculpture of a nude man—seeing it again today felt different. I've grown up, yet I gained something new. Unlike before, when across from the sculpture there was a Starbucks with an artistic vibe that enlightened me, now many dining spots have sprung up around it. Starbucks still welcomed me—the Chao Xi Street Starbucks in Chongqing. It still gave me the life I longed for most. Despite the pandemic, the shop had been renovated. The attitude toward foreigners in Chongqing also felt different from Shanghai, but on the whole, the people around—whether locals, students, or cafe goers—were quite nice. It really was the familiar flavor of a second-tier city.
I also went to Binjiang Road. Having seen the sea, the string of bridges across the Yangtze no longer impressed me as they once did. Instead, I found a familiar northern feel in the air, that dusty, earthy scent. I visited the Mountain City Footpath (Shancheng Buxing) three days in a row, each time discovering something new. I hiked the hills, reconnecting with the spiritual quality of climbing I'd known as a child. I saw the city tree of Chongqing, the huangge tree, truly growing across entire walls—above, apartment blocks; below, the whole retaining wall was entwined with the roots of huangge trees, or rather, several floors of a building were completely enveloped by their roots.
I also toured Zha Zi Dong (the prison), watched the train pass through Liziba Station, visited the One Tree observation deck on Nanshan, and Ciqikou Ancient Town. They say every city has a so-called ancient street or town that tourists are better off avoiding. That one was truly painful. It's no exaggeration to say I fled out of there, and I felt deep regret and guilt for even going.
After that, I headed to Chongqing Raffles City—the famous place I'd long heard about. Due to time, I only went twice, but I still felt the warmth of Chongqing people. I had a 'Yogurt Cow' hawthorn-flavored Venus yogurt drink. I don't know if it was the hawthorn that healed me, but it was incredibly delicious and not expensive—around 15 yuan. There was also a special tea, TWG Tea 1849; I asked and was told it's over 200 yuan for the black tea. When I have more money, I'll buy some to savor. At Bestore in Raffles City, I bought three bottles of Alien electrolyte water. It was my first purchase from Bestore, and I was thrilled to crack open the electrolyte water there.
All in all, the Chongqing trip was worthwhile.
Still, there were regrets. I missed my flight and had to buy a new ticket, costing me nearly a thousand yuan extra—ouch! And because the May Day holiday was approaching, almost all hostels were fully booked. Afraid of finding no bed at all, I just booked whatever was available and went. I got a private single room advertised as a river-view room. It was fine, but I no longer felt that same thrill. In the past two years in Shanghai, the city has been so dazzling, with such remarkable accommodations and sights. The hostel was Chongqing Years Youth Hostel, and my room was the Lan Shan River View Room. When I arrived, some young people were playing cards in the common area. The girl there wouldn't let me sit on the sofa even though I was tired and thirsty. It felt like a deliberate cold shoulder. However, the room was artistic; aside from that, everything was fine. After I got back, I rested for three days. Having the room to myself—no shared disturbance—meant I recovered well. I could go out again, relax, and all the stumbles and sudden moments of helplessness simply vanished.
The Chongqing trip was long overdue; it fulfilled a wish. On the flight back to Shanghai, just before landing, many women older than me said in unison that they were only just leaving too. I also met a girl who had been traveling in Chongqing.
A final tip: When booking hotels, plan for three days but book four nights. Otherwise, you'll be rushed and regret not staying longer.
