Sea Village: An Encounter with the Sea That Runs Dry and Rocks That Crumble

The world knows Xiapu but not Ningde, just like knowing Shaolin but not Zhengzhou. Under a great reputation, there must be disappointment that expectations exceed reality. In the era where traffic is king, scenic spots are all business, and the charm passed down by word of mouth is almost always about fencing off land for money. Natural beauty can only be stumbled upon by accident. I specially detoured to Yangjiaxi, specially detoured to Sansha Town, but in two days, apart from seeing a patch of fog, I saw nothing. It seems I truly have no affinity with Xiapu. "Beiqit mudflat," "Banyan tree and morning glory" – forget it.

February 26, overcast to clear

Sansha Town → Dongbi Village → Xiaohao Village → Dongshan Village → Chiling → Xiapu No. 18 Middle School → Funing Avenue → Nanqishan Tunnel → Qiuzhu Village → County Road 961 → Wuqu Village → Zucuo Village → Changchun Town → Chengwu Village → Chibi Village → Xiahu Town Xianju Inn [Total 80.8 km]

Breakfast 20 yuan, afternoon snack 10.5 yuan, Nutri-Express 4 yuan, dinner 30 yuan, accommodation 60 yuan, fruit 11 yuan, ATM fee 7 yuan [Total 142.5 yuan]

Nineteen kilometers of side path, I went and came back the same way, returning to the Chiling fork. The spilled manure was still there, and sure enough, there were those not afraid of death – a yellow skid mark dragged straight down from the mountain, a wretched sight. I climbed the mountain all morning, expecting to coast down a slope happily, but after the rain, the dirt road was full of potholes. The bike bounced and splashed mud, and we rode like two spotted dogs pretending to be human.

Through the Nanqishan Tunnel, the sky cleared, and the rural scenery of northern Fujian unfolded like a scroll: orioles singing among banana groves, plowing cattle in spring fields, leisurely fishing by the riverbank, egrets and cooking smoke, children teasing cats and dogs, a farmer on a motorcycle with a hoe over his shoulder, a child wailing after being spanked... fleeting impressions. I stopped in Qiuzhu Village, and the whole village came to watch – on beams, in tree forks, under bean trellises, in front of pigsties, behind thighs – a pair of curious eyes everywhere. I returned the gaze, and the eyes from all fronts immediately looked away, pretending nothing happened. I unexpectedly encountered some wall-top plants: tile lotus growing on eaves, red flowers blooming on tiles – I couldn't tell if Rehmannia had cheated, or succulents had gone astray.

I rode along, taking in the sights. After the rain, the sky cleared, and heaven and earth felt brand new. "Wild aloe in Fujian, once taken to Beijing, is put into a greenhouse and grandly named 'Agave americana.'" Teacher Lu wasn't lying: plants that are rare in the north are everywhere here. On cliffs, on the coast, aloe grew wildly, huge and gigantic, almost like they'd become spirits.

And bougainvillea – I always thought it was just a pitiful potted plant, but here it can grow into a towering little tree, exuding the rebellious strength of a red apricot leaning over the wall.

I ambled to Xiahu Town, headed straight for the dock, and asked – there was no ferry to Tailu at all. My mind collapsed. I didn't want to ride another 80 km back to Xiapu. I almost had to sell myself to ask for directions, until I found out there was a boat to Ningde. Xiahu is a small town known for kelp and the ferry dock, but the dock was out of service, and the kelp couldn't take us across the sea. The blue sea and yellow sand were covered in the loneliness of the setting sun. No choice – I had to go back to town to find lodging.

February 27, cloudy

Xiahu Town → Ferry → Ningde Jinshetou Pier → South Hubin Road → Lin Cong Road → Qingshan Road → From Section 2207 to National Highway 104 → Hanqi → Shang Village and Xia Village → Feiluan Town → Nanshan Village → Masankeng Bridge → Section 2226 of National Highway 104 into Fuzhou boundary → Baishui Village → Jitou Village → Beishan Village → Fuxi Village → Cunqian Village → Mabi Town → Toubao Town → Guanban Town → Lianhuashan Tunnel → Guanling Village → Shankeng Village → Pukou Town → Encountered Brother Chen → Dongdai Town Senior Activity Center [Total 90.2 km]

Ferry 120 yuan, breakfast 16 yuan, mineral water 6 yuan, lunch 39 yuan, Nutri-Express 4 yuan, accommodation 20 yuan [Total 205 yuan]

I slept only five hours, rose before dawn, and rushed to catch the ferry with the morning glow. At the dock, I was thunderstruck: the sea had dried up, the boat was stranded on the mudflat, with no intention of carrying anyone – it was going through its own tribulation.

Frantic, I was about to try my luck at Beibi Village, but I asked a neighboring boat lady: "The tide hasn't come yet; wait a while for high tide and we can go." Is it that magical?! Nowadays, even the tide has a schedule – rising in the morning, receding in the evening. Today, it must have overslept and missed its shift, fined fifty.

More passengers gathered, but the tide shamelessly only rose into a little ditch – was it like a lazy morning that first sends a little assistant to cover the shift? The boat boss sent a small boat to take everyone to the open sea to board a backup boat. Li Xiaomao and I, with our bikes, were squeezed onto the boat. We rowed heavy oars in the muddy ditch, chugging up murky waves – I couldn't help but find it novel and fun. Squeezed in the cabin, floating on the ditch, I felt a unique charm, but to the locals it was nothing special: maybe they were just going to the opposite shore for market, maybe going to work in the city, maybe visiting relatives across the sea. The boat was piled with local products; they were inside, and we stood outside with our bikes. That was all.

Farewell, ferry brother. Continue your tribulation. We'll go ahead; the tide will come soon.

On the deep sea, they dropped anchor and we boarded a speedboat, sailing across the blue waves to Ningde. Azure waves surged crosswise; beyond the wake of the speedboat were rolling mountains and endless rows of houses. The sea village was unique – no human figures visible, only dogs playing on the waves.

The boat boss was an old man with a childlike heart, warm, friendly, and familiar. He saw me taking pictures and insisted on leaning over to see what the lens captured. One moment he pointed out something to shoot, the next he reminded me to photograph that – like a little kid showing off his toys. Uncle saw my interest in the row houses and eagerly explained that under the houses were cages for kelp, sea cucumbers, and yellow croaker. Then he grabbed my arm and shouted excitedly: "Look, look! Shoot the dragon boat!" The vast sea surged, mountains receded, the boat moved on. Everywhere I looked were aquaculture masters; fishermen worked in twos and threes, casting nets or shuttling in boats.

Seagulls soared in the distance; herons gathered on the cages for a meeting. The cat and I froze in the cold wind like monkeys.