Summer 2022 Trip: From Ningxia's Yellow River to Shaanxi's Yellow River
Never seen a desert? Go see the desert. Never seen the Yellow River? Go listen to the Yellow River. Never seen a no-man's land? Go take a look.
On July 23, 2022, the summer vacation trip officially began. We departed from Nanjing Lukou Airport, catching an early morning flight. The kids were woken up at 4:30 AM, but getting up early for a trip is no problem. Arriving in Yinchuan, wow, it wasn't hot at all—very comfortable. Eyes full of curiosity, excitement, and anticipation. Around 10 AM, we picked up a car and headed straight to the Shuidonggou Scenic Area: prehistoric humans, Ming Dynasty hidden soldier caves, and the "wild man" performer (after the show, Xiao Hua imitated the wild man dancing; at home, her dad calls her "little wild woman"). It wasn't hot here, just very sunny. We wore sun-protective clothing the whole time.
In Yinchuan, whenever you see a mountain, it's the Helan Mountains. Along the way, the kids kept correcting my pronunciation of these three characters. We visited the Helan Mountain Rock Art and saw blue sheep. We learned what the Sun God looks like in the rock art, how ancient people used patterns to represent men and women. The carvings are simple but vivid. At this site, the children listened attentively to the guide. One big kid even interacted with the auntie guide. We also spotted blue sheep. Our fondness for Ningxia started here—not too crowded, the weather not too hot. Enjoying the scenic area was a delight.
They say these rock paintings are vanishing with each viewing, so cherish the chance to see them now. After the rock art, we went to the Western Xia Culture Park, which is more suitable for children. We skipped the Western Xia Imperial Tombs because, as netizens say, those tombs are for those with rich inner worlds and deep knowledge of Western Xia history, who can feel the vicissitudes and weight of history. At the Western Xia Culture Park, the electric cart driver was talkative and filled us in on Western Xia history. We saw Chinese folk arts: various acrobatics—drinking oil and spitting fire, jump rope with the head, contortion—thrilling to watch, making us feel the hardships of life and the power of perseverance. Later, chatting with Dad, we realized we had also visited a similar culture park in Xishuangbanna. It seems such parks are great for taking kids.
Today we headed to the highlight of our trip: the Star Desert Hotel. We had planned to come last summer but couldn't book it. This year, we finally made it to the long-awaited Star Hotel. A three-hour drive brought us to Zhongwei. As we got closer, we saw the desert, and I loved the feeling—wide, boundless. We also saw the photovoltaic solar panels mentioned online, stretching in patches. A good chance to teach the kids about clean energy. We talked about the wind turbines we saw in Weihai two years ago, and how photovoltaic panels use solar energy, and how we might visit the Three Gorges Dam in the future to learn about hydropower from water level differences. This is why I want to take the kids out—learning on the road. On the road, thoughts flow freely, and I want to share all my knowledge with them, to show them the greatness of humanity. We arrived at the "Time-Space Gate" (the hotel reception, at the edge of the desert). Cars can only park at the reception lot. It felt a bit messy—maybe a tour group arrived at the same time, overwhelming the reception. First impressions weren't great. But at the accommodation, the kids were so excited they spent the whole afternoon playing in the sand. Dad and I washed clothes from the previous two days. Dad brought a clothesline and hangers—very wise. The sun was strong; clothes dried in less than three hours, though the color faded badly. Our hangers, originally pink, turned light pink.
At Shapotou, we dug in the sand, played sand games, drank goji bud tea and chrysanthemum tea, ate instant noodles, snacks, and drinks. During the day, we rode camels, drove beach buggies, warrior cars, and dune buggies. When thirsty, we ate selenium sand melons. In the evening, we dragged sandboards up the dunes to slide down. At night, we admired the beautiful stars, the Milky Way, the North Star, Arcturus, and the Chinese Space Station. It seemed every star or shiny object in the sky had its own story. The hotel's stargazing activity further sparked the kids' interest in outer space. Three days passed leisurely.
On the sixth day, we returned from Zhongwei to Yinchuan. We skipped Highway 66 due to time constraints. On the way back, we visited the Qingtongxia Grand Canyon. We learned that water conservancy development has been important in every era—stable water means stable governance. Later, we saw that the dam can also generate hydropower. We saw the 108 Pagodas and took a sheepskin raft, something we missed in Zhongwei. Honestly, it was cramped for our family of four; Dad's legs went numb.
Back in Yinchuan, Dad wanted to visit Zhenbeibu, but the kids unanimously opposed it. I don't know why—was it to stop Dad from seeing Zixia Fairy? (Dad says the movie has more than just Zixia Fairy. Forgive my ignorance; that's all I know.) Tomorrow we were going deep into the Tengger Desert on a day trip. At first, Dad disagreed, thinking it unsafe. When I mentioned there would be no phone signal for a while, he thought it even more unreliable, fearing danger. Honestly, I hadn't thought of that. Men's safety awareness is high. After he said that, I worried too. Anxiously, I inquired about the detailed itinerary. Learning that we would enter the desert in a convoy put my mind at ease. In the morning, the local guide took us first to the Sanguankou Great Wall. Here, we felt how the Mongols on horseback flattened the Western Xia, massacred the city, and wiped out the Western Xia people. We saw a earth Great Wall, different from Beijing's. Though built of earth, it still embodied the heroic spirit of iron horses and golden spears, of dying on the battlefield.
From Sanguankou, we entered Inner Mongolia. At the checkpoint, we first took a nucleic acid test, then switched to a desert vehicle. The kids' exciting journey began: real off-road vehicles climbing up and down dunes like a roller coaster. The rides at Shapotou seemed like child's play now. This was real thrill. I worried I couldn't handle it, but in the end, Dad and the kids couldn't take it, while I was fine—it didn't give me a feeling of weightlessness. It felt pretty good. We traversed the desert to see five lakes. The most beautiful was Ulan Lake, which left a deep impression because my elder sister didn't listen to me and walked on the crystallized salt lake. She stepped into a soft spot, and hot salty water got into her shoes. Scared, she ran away, even leaving her shoes behind, then ran barefoot on the sand. Sand heated by the sun all day was very hot. She clung to Dad's legs. The younger sister called Ulan Lake "Sister's Burning Feet Lake." On the way back, the little one actually fell asleep in the roller-coaster-like vehicle, reminding me of when she slept soundly on a speedboat in Changdao, Yantai two years ago.
Back in Yinchuan, we went to a barbecue restaurant next to the famous Hongliuzhi BBQ. I loved this outdoor barbecue—drinking beer and eating grilled meat. I said we never do this in Nanjing. The elder daughter retorted, "You could!" Dad shot back, "Don't you know how things are?" Maybe I just love this carefree beer-and-barbecue vibe. Tomorrow we'll leave Ningxia. Regretfully, I never dared to slide down from the highest dune. But with regret comes anticipation for next time.
We took the high-speed rail to Shaanxi. At every exit, we had to get tested. I understand that Xi'an is consolidating its achievements; zero-COVID is hard won, and we cherish the feeling of freedom. In Xi'an, we visited the Great Tang All Day Mall, climbed the city wall (thought it was Tang, but it was Ming), watched shadow puppetry at the Gao Family Courtyard, listened to Qinqiang opera at a teahouse, and also heard cross-talk. I told the kids that some things are intangible cultural heritage needing inheritance, but some traditions aren't passed down well and may disappear. We ate biangbiang noodles, roujiamo, yangrou paomo, zenggao, and hulu chicken. Leaving Xi'an city for Lintong to see the Terracotta Warriors. The younger sister remembered the kneeling archer and that it's the only one unearthed intact. The Terracotta Warriors site is famous, but the entrance area is terrible—full of vendors and shops. We couldn't even find the main gate; we had to push through crowds and break through many obstacles to see a not-so-big entrance. Too many people hawking goods or offering to guide you, feeling like pitfalls everywhere. Our overall impression of Xi'an was not great: crowded and noisy. Every taxi driver I met seemed a swindler, using the same tricks. Such a culturally rich city, yet like this.
On the way from Xi'an to Yan'an, we played the "Yellow River Cantata" for the kids, hoping they would understand the country's great rivers and mountains and that period of history through the song, continuing the red education. At Hukou Waterfall, we met the Yellow River again, which we had parted from at Qingtongxia in Ningxia. It had flowed north to Inner Mongolia and then came to Shaanxi. Yellow River, we meet again. I wish I could go with you to see the estuary at Yingkou. The 200-meter-wide river plunging down at this 50-meter-wide gap—magnificent, thunderous. The spray makes it hard to open your eyes. Muddy water droplets splash onto us, leaving faint mud spots. Above the waterfall, a rainbow bridge seems to connect the east and west banks, so fitting for the "Yellow River Cantata." Watching the outdoor performance of the cantata at Hukou—simple stage, rustic performance—by the end, my eyes were wet. The Chinese people stand up, defend the Yellow River, defend North China, defend all China. We stayed overnight at a hotel right by Hukou, but the scenic area closed and the hotel's passage was locked. If only we could step close to the waterfall at night to see and hear it—what an experience! The song stayed with us all the way to Yan'an, where we also saw a show called "Return to Yan'an" that included a chorus of that song. In the evening, we had Yellow River carp at the hotel. Honestly, it was just average, much inferior to the lake fish south of the Yangtze. The middle and lower reaches of the Yellow River carry sediment, water quality is poor, so the fish taste is only so-so.
One thing I missed: we were on the west side of Hukou, Hexi; across the river is Hedong, Shanxi Province. If Xi'an's lockdown hadn't been lifted, we would have viewed Hukou from Shanxi. At Hukou, we also tried a helicopter ride over the waterfall, a first for us. I remembered three or four years ago in Sanya, I wanted to take the kids on a helicopter, but they said it was too loud and scary. Now they've grown up, liking more things and willing to try more experiences.
On the road from Hukou to Yan'an, what song to play? Of course, "Nanniwan." We listened to many versions, each with a favorite. Following the navigation, we arrived at Nanniwan. Not sure if we came to the wrong place or it's just like this—an open scenic spot with no gate or ticket office. Maybe it's just these hills and cornfields. There was a large party emblem landmark; we took a picture for the older kid. Dad said I could apply for party membership. Actually, my thought was to let the kids feel patriotism and respect for ancestors and martyrs. On the highway to Yan'an, the hillsides on both sides had primitive cave dwellings, unadorned, once inhabited but now abandoned. The kids saw the original form of cave dwellings. In Yan'an, we stayed opposite the Red Street, a man-made themed street with red-themed performances, a training ground, red cultural creative products, many snacks, and a large outdoor playground where the kids played all evening. The performance was immersive, walking and watching, quite novel and impressive. It told the story of the Red Army's Long March, climbing snowy mountains and crossing grasslands, carefully choreographed. The little one got scared during the grassland crossing and wanted to leave, so Dad accompanied her out. I watched the rest with the older sister. Yan'an has over 400 revolutionary sites; an inconspicuous spot by the roadside could be a revolutionary site or a news liaison office. Yan'an city is a series of valley cities connected by tunnels. Speaking of tunnels, a little incident: at night, the older daughter realized she had left her Helan stone zodiac pendant at the restaurant where we had dinner. Dad called the restaurant; they had found it. Dad took a taxi to retrieve it, but couldn't get a taxi back. From his phone call, I learned he might have to walk back if no car came. When I mentioned he'd have to go through a tunnel, the older daughter got scared and worried about Dad. All attractions in Yan'an are red-themed and free. At Wangjiaping, we wanted to watch the Ansai waist drum performance but missed it; we heard the drumming and rushed over, but the show had ended. We visited Yangjialing and Wangjiaping, where the great leaders lived and worked. Dad suggested going to Zao Garden next. As we approached Zao Garden, we saw a sign ahead saying "Zao Garden Visit" with a parking lot underneath. I thought it strange—"Visit" was written in different characters, obviously added later. As soon as we entered the parking lot, someone came to pull us into buying dog-head dates. Driving out of the parking lot and moving forward, we realized that parking lot wasn't the official one. Dad decided to go back, drive out, and park at the official lot. When traveling, safety matters most to avoid being cheated. We stayed two days in Yan'an, then began the journey home. Yan'an Airport is built on a mountaintop; Dad said they must have leveled a hilltop to build it. Looking at the mountaintop airport, I thought of Hong Kong's seaside airport—one flies out from a mountaintop over green valleys, the other lifts off from the coast over the blue sea.
The 15-day wandering trip came to an end. The kids were reluctant: "Let's do it again!" But Mom and Dad were a bit tired and needed to return to work and normal life. We can only look forward to next year's trip.
I'll share a picture with everyone—you can play along the Yellow River like this. Would you go to a place because of a song? Because of a book? Because of some delicious food?
