Keep the love alive, rush to the mountains and seas — Shandong

That one line from the 'special forces' travelers — 'Youth has no price tag, Mount Tai is right under your feet' — stirred something in me, and that very moment my heart surged with the impulse to climb Mount Tai. But at that moment, I only wanted to climb Mount Tai in a laid-back way... But it turned out... After skimming the map, I realized Mount Tai, Jinan, and Zibo are all quite close. Zibo was a trending city; should we join the fun? Jinan, the provincial capital, was a must-visit, no question. The mountain hike had to be on the last day, otherwise my legs would be dead for everything else. Just when I had it all planned, we found out there were no more tickets to Zibo. Checked the map again and decided to go to Qingdao first, then pass through Zibo to Jinan, climb Mount Tai at the end, and head straight back to Nanchang — no backtracking. On May 20th, we four sisters met at Nanchang Station, slept on the train overnight, and arrived in Qingdao the next morning. On May 21st, we got to Qingdao at 6 a.m., found our hotel, left our luggage at the front desk, grabbed breakfast nearby, and headed to Zhanqiao Pier. It was raining when we got there, and plenty of tourists were already around. We strolled about first; when the rain stopped, we took photos on the beach and even collected some kelp. The crowd grew. Although the weather wasn't great, listening to the waves was very soothing. Following the shoreline, we arrived at the Badaxia scenic area. At first glance, it looked just like a neat row of stone bollards by the sea, but after snapping a few photos, we had to admit they turned out incredibly well. In the end, we spent the most time there. More and more people showed up, mostly young folks in twos and threes, couples in particular. Around 1 p.m. we went back to the hotel — very close to the train and metro stations, the room fresh and tasteful, and crucially, it had a washing machine, super handy. We rested a bit, then took the metro to May Fourth Square for a picture; it’s a Qingdao landmark, a must-do. Then we got on a bus to Badaguan Scenic Area. The name 'Badaguan' (Eight Passes) comes from the eight roads (now ten) named after famous passes along the ancient Great Wall. This area is a renowned villa district, known as the 'Museum of World Architecture'. Before liberation, it was a villa area for bureaucrats and capitalists; after liberation, the government restored it, turning it into an important sanitarium. Many Party and state leaders and distinguished international friends have stayed here. Strolling along the tree-lined streets, we came across the Princess Building at No. 10 Juyongguan Road. The small building, combining a spire and irregular sloping roofs with a square terrace to the south, looked like something straight out of a fairy tale — delicate and lovely. It’s said to have been built by the Danish consul-general in Qingdao for a Danish princess visiting in summer, though in reality she never came; the name 'Princess Building' just stuck. Pink roses in the courtyard spilled over the wall and danced in the wind — such a romantic, gorgeous scene, we had to take photos. As we continued on, I noticed an older man taking photos for a middle-aged beauty; I edged over and saw he really had a great angle. While waiting our turn and listening to his explanations, I guessed he was a local who worked as a guide, and the building he was capturing was Huashi Lou (the Granite Building), the most famous in Badaguan. Badaguan embodies Qingdao’s European charm; with Huashi Lou, the architectural mood mixes softness with majesty, delicacy with boldness. The crisscrossing streets are planted with different flowers and trees; no matter which scenic lane you take, you eventually find Huashi Lou. This place really is a paradise for photogenic shots. After leaving Badaguan, we were tired but still wanted to see the light show at No. 3 Bathing Beach. On the way back to the hotel, it suddenly occurred to me that we must try mackerel dumplings while in Qingdao. We found a small place — 35 yuan for a bowl of 25. Since most of us weren’t used to seafood, we ordered just one bowl to share. The moment it was served, the smell made me hesitant; Meihong felt the same. In the end, Yuanyuan and Meihong took tiny bites while the more robust eaters, Lihua and I, polished it off. Because we are frugal little heroes. May 22: We slept in, had breakfast, and first went to Daxue Road, where there’s an internet-famous photo spot with a long queue. So we went to Xiaoyu Hill instead. Xiaoyu Hill isn’t high, but it’s a well-known coastal scenic attraction and the best vantage point to overlook the entire Qingdao coast. Pink roses still cascaded over the walls of every household; I felt every corner of Qingdao was steeped in rose fragrance. From Xiaoyu Hill, you get the classic view of red roofs among green trees and the blue sea and sky — utterly beautiful. Again, incredibly photogenic everywhere, 360 degrees of flawlessness. Sitting in the pavilion, drinking in the view and feeling the May sea breeze, my heart was full of happiness. It was the kind of place you hate to leave. Coming down from Xiaoyu Hill, we passed Daxue Road again; people were still lining up for photos. We randomly found a red wall and snapped a few ourselves. Then we hunted for the famous 'internet-famous wall', but when we found it, there was another queue, so we moved on to Xinhao Hill. People say after Xiaoyu Hill you can skip Xinhao Hill, but since it was so close, we went for a walk. Though I think Xinhao Hill’s scenery isn’t as beautiful as Xiaoyu Hill’s, standing on the summit in the May breeze was still a happy moment. On that trendy street, groups of good-looking young men and women were still queuing for check-in photos. We didn’t wait; we headed straight to the Catholic Church for another photo stop. It was less than ten minutes from our place, and many newlyweds were having wedding photos taken. We parked ourselves nearby, watched couple after couple, and gossiped in hushed tones — 'this bride is pretty,' 'that groom looks a bit old,' 'this wedding dress is nice,' 'that color is too gaudy' — exactly like village aunties whispering on the curb. After getting our fill, the last stop was Xiaomai Island to watch the sunset, but we still had time, so we went back to the hotel to rest first and then set out. Over these days, hopping on and off buses and metros, I felt like I knew Qingdao inside out. The bus took ages to come, and I sensed seeing the sunset would be futile. When it finally arrived, it was an hour and a half ride plus a long, long walk. I left the other three behind to chase the sunset; many young girls were even jogging. When I saw people already streaming out, I knew I was late, but I stubbornly kept going. In the end, I caught the afterglow just before it slipped below the horizon. I could only call it the last rays of the day, but it was beautiful nonetheless. The island was packed, mostly with young people. You could see their love for Qingdao — everywhere you looked, pink blooms and fairy-tale buildings; any woman would fall in love unconditionally. I soaked in the seaside night, took photos, listened to the waves, watched the shoreline lights twinkle on, and remembered the three sisters waiting for me on the beach outside. So I treaded away into the night to the sound of young people’s singing. On the way back to our accommodation, it was so lovely — like a fairy-tale world. May 23: Slept in, had breakfast, and left for Zibo. There were plenty of trains to Zibo, less than two hours by high-speed rail. We took a bus straight to Badaju. Because we hadn’t booked a room the night before, we tried to find one on the spot near Badaju, but after hauling our luggage around for quite a while, no luck, so we booked online. This place was hard to find, ate up more time. The room turned out to be the most expensive and worst in our whole Shandong trip. After a short rest, we went to Haidai Tower. We skipped Qisheng Lake Park and headed directly to Zhongshuge Bookstore, which is a bookshop with some cultural creative products, toys, bags, and knick-knacks. It was nice to wander, browse, and take photos. Coming out, we grabbed a casual barbecue right at the gate of Badaju. We heard that the popular barbecue joints required queuing and taking a number, so we didn’t bother. After the little barbecue, we entered Badaju’s market. To be honest, the barbecue itself wasn’t filling or particularly delicious; it was just a quick taste. Inside, we bought purple rice cakes and cherries. Oh, those purple rice cakes — don’t ask what they taste like; just don’t waste them after buying. May 24: Got up early and went back to Badaju for breakfast. We bought a ton of food. Prices were really affordable. A big ladle of soybean milk for one yuan; we grabbed two. A huge bun for 1.7 yuan, hard as a brick. Boshan baked flatbread, six-yuan pork intestine buns — delicious. Triangle rice cakes, five yuan for two, tasted like childhood. Bought a bag of Qingdao-style deep-fried pork scraps, but somehow lost it and never even tasted it — we four were bummed for half a day, it was such a big bag! This is the taste of childhood, tasty and cheap. And the pig intestine bun was surprisingly yummy. At the Badaju gate, a bus driver held a sign for a special route to Boshan Glazed Art Garden and Yanshen Ancient Town — 8 yuan per person. We hopped on. Zibo was crowded; the bus filled up quickly and departed. It took an hour and a half. We first wandered around the Glazed Art Garden. Tea sets were cheap, thirty to forty yuan a set, and there were trinkets too. A young girl carrying a huge bag of flatbread caught my eye; I asked her where she got it, and she said inside, adding she couldn’t finish it all and offered me one to try. After a polite refusal, I took one and we all four had a taste. Don’t ask what the pancake was like — it was filled with pure human warmth. Just opposite the Glazed Art Garden is Yanshen Ancient Town; admission 29.9 yuan. This is the kind of place you’d regret not entering and regret even more after entering. It’s that 'since we’re here anyway we might as well' trap, and once inside you instantly feel it’s a waste of money. Afterwards, we went for Boshan cuisine. They said the tofu box was a must-order, along with Boshan crispy pork and Boshan spring rolls. And guess what? The spicy and sour shredded potatoes stole the show, while the tofu box went barely touched. A bunch of middle-aged beauties who know how to run a household ended up wasting that dish; the leftovers we did pack up. By this point, all four of us had the same feeling: we didn’t want to stay any longer. I can’t tell if we ended up in a Zibo that was slightly like the online version but mostly quite different. Fortunately, this was just a stopover. Quickly, grab our bags and go! It’s about a 40-minute high-speed train from Zibo to Jinan. I booked a hotel in Kuanhouli. When booking, I couldn’t believe how cheap accommodation was in Jinan; when we got there, the room was great value for the price. That night, Lihua and Meihong continued their daily love-hate theatrics, the mandatory show each evening. Yuanyuan and I just watched them put on their original act; that might be the most unforgettable part of our entire Shandong trip for us four middle-aged beauties. Jinan, the capital of Shandong Province, is famous as the 'City of Springs' due to its numerous springs. Baotu Spring, Thousand Buddha Mountain, and Daming Lake are known as the three major attractions. Originally we planned two days in Jinan, but the forecast showed rain at Mount Tai on Saturday, so we had to move the hike up by a day, cutting our Jinan stay short. On May 24, early in the morning, we found an internet-famous breakfast spot — the Sun Family Breakfast. Lihua and I ordered two bowls of sweet congee, and we grabbed some candy fritters, fried dough sticks — a little of everything. We can’t afford all sorts of delicacies, but this we could manage. The sweet congee wasn’t exactly my thing, but we didn’t waste any. The whole point of eating out this way is to eat stuff you can’t get at home; anything we could swallow, we never wasted. That’s our rule. Fully fueled, we set off to find Daming Lake, where the legendary Xia Yuhe once was. Daming Lake lies in the heart of Jinan, with a long history, a renowned scenic spot and one of China’s four famous lakes. Originally a marshland outside Jinan’s southern gate, it was developed into a crucial water source for irrigation and a royal garden in the Han Dynasty. By the Tang Dynasty, it was a celebrated attraction praised as the 'Pearl of the East'. Under the Song Dynasty, it expanded into a grand imperial garden; in the Ming and Qing, it remained an important water source, scenic area, and cultural treasure. First we strolled along Qushuiting Street, heading north until we reached the lakeside. We came early, so it wasn’t too crowded. When we arrived at what looked like a small lake, I asked, 'Don’t tell me this is Daming Lake?' But Lihua and Meihong replied with total confidence that it was. But this lake was so tiny, nothing like what I’d imagined. I muttered to myself; without any signage, I wasn’t sure. Their certainty made me doubt my own doubt. Only when I spotted a Daming Lake archway up ahead did I confirm my certainty. Even though Jinan is a northern city, Daming Lake is so graceful and charming that strolling along its shores gave me the illusion of being in Jiangnan. Emerging from Daming Lake, we headed all the way to Baotu Spring. At the entrance, Meihong grumbled about another 40-yuan ticket, afraid she’d regret it again. I said, 'Fine, don’t go in, just wait outside.' But come on, being in Jinan, this is the place you absolutely must enter. Spending hundreds on a train ticket to come all this way, even if you regret it afterwards, you still gotta go in. In the end, she followed us. After all, this is the 'Number One Spring under Heaven' personally named by Emperor Qianlong; in fifty years, this might be our only trip to Jinan. Whatever happens, we had to see it before leaving. Once we had, we all wanted to leave. Meihong sighed, 'Is that it? 40 yuan gone.' Lihua quipped, 'While we haven’t left yet, you can still regret it.' So we grudgingly did another lap and took a few more photos. Then on to Five Dragon Pool Park. The spring water there tasted so good and the scenery was exquisitely beautiful. We plopped down beside a spring’s outlet and watched the clear water gurgle up in graceful rings, so pretty. We were reluctant to leave. Every single drop of water we saw here was incredibly clean and crystal clear. I’d never seen so many springs in my life; it felt like a magical world. Black Tiger Spring Park was close to our accommodation. I thought the spring water there wasn’t as sweet as at Five Dragon Pool. Even though I was in Jinan, I kept feeling like I was in Jiangnan — the willow branches dancing in the breeze, the small bridges and flowing streams carrying the same poetic vibe, nothing inferior to Jiangnan. Standing on a small bridge I could see the Liberation Pavilion. Meihong said she was tired and went back to the hotel. The rest of us wandered and soon arrived at the Liberation Pavilion. The Jinan Liberation Memorial Hall is an important patriotic education base with local characteristics, located at the southeast corner of what was the old city wall, east of Black Tiger Spring, facing the spring across the moat. The site marks the breakthrough point where the People’s Liberation Army breached Jinan’s defenses on September 24, 1948. When the old city wall was demolished for urban development, the people of Jinan built the majestic Liberation Pavilion here to commemorate the city’s liberation. Later, Yuanyuan and I didn’t bother with dinner again. We hadn’t had a proper rice meal in days. Meihong and I looked for a place, but honestly, we would’ve been better off with last night’s snail noodles. Because of the Sunday rain forecast, we moved our mountain hike to tomorrow, which meant only a one-day stay in Jinan. That was a shame — we missed Thousand Buddha Mountain, the museum, and even Furong Street. For Jinan, it really was a rushed visit. Will I ever get another chance to come here? If I do, I’ll definitely stay two full days. May 25: Today we headed to climb Mount Tai. Luck was on our side, I think. The train was jam-packed, and we only had standing tickets. When the train started moving, I was about to grab a plastic bag to sit on the floor when a guy next to me said he actually had a seat, just didn’t feel like squeezing in, and offered me his spot. After thanking him, I found his seat, still empty. Even though the ride was only thirty or forty minutes, sitting was way more comfortable. The other three got squeezed into another carriage; at that moment, it was every woman for herself. Getting off the train, I was just thinking about finding a hotel to drop our luggage when a driver approached us with suggestions that made perfect sense, so we hopped into his cab. He took us to a guesthouse, told us how to make the most of the visit, and especially reminded me not to buy a walking stick but to pick one up along the way. After dropping our bags and having breakfast, we followed his directions to Tianwaicun, then took a bus to Zhongtianmen, where the real climbing began. Honestly, haha, I really did fish a walking stick out of a trash can, saving three yuan — great luck! Then we started seeing people coming down, probably night hikers heading back after sunrise. When I saw them hobbling along, I wondered if we’d look the same by afternoon. We trudged upward; I didn’t find it too tiring. I walked in a zigzag pattern and climbed slowly. Some youngsters just zoomed past me, tap-tap-tap, vanishing in a blink. I sighed: youth, how wonderful! Even if I were their age, I still couldn’t dart up like them, though. We went at a steady pace, a bit breathless but not overly so. All the way up, I felt I could keep going. The ’18 Bends’ section was indeed steep — looking up, all you saw were backsides; looking down, all faces, as the saying goes. I climbed this section very seriously, because you had to be. My world became only the steps; I fixed my eyes on them and moved upward. If I dared glance back, a momentary dizziness made me feel like I’d tumble down. After two and a half hours, we finally reached Nantianmen. We ate something and pushed on toward Jade Emperor Peak. Lihua and Yuanyuan didn’t want to go further, so they waited. Meihong insisted on coming with me; otherwise, that 200-yuan ticket would’ve been a waste. As they say, the best views are at the peak. Standing on the summit of Mount Tai, all other mountains looked small; the sky was impossibly blue. With a wave of my hand, a surge of heroic spirit rose up. For that moment, I felt like a warrior who could cut through thorns and overcome any obstacle; from then on, no hurdle in life could stop me. After the heroism subsided, Meihong and I did a spin around the peak, drank in the endless vistas, then headed back to find the others. Meihong said they’d regret it. I said, Yuanyuan would probably say, 'If you two saw it, it’s as good as us seeing it.' Sure enough, Yuanyuan repeated that verbatim, such tacit understanding after 30 years together. Then she asked, 'Where shall we go next?' I laughed, 'This trip isn’t even over yet and you’re already thinking about the next?' I added, 'Well, maybe Jiuzhaigou one day?' The way down was faster; we descended to Zhongtianmen, took the bus to Tianwaicun. Our feet did ache. My plan was to head back and rest, then visit Dai Temple tomorrow. But the others suggested we push on and get it all done so we could sleep in the next day. We agreed, caught a bus to Dai Temple, also known as the 'Dongyue Temple'. First built in the Han Dynasty, it was where emperors held grand ceremonies to worship Mount Tai. Dai Temple, along with Beijing’s Forbidden City, the Confucius sites in Qufu, and the outer temples of the Chengde Mountain Resort, form China’s four great ancient architectural ensembles. The temple’s layout and structures mirror palace architecture, slightly simplified. The main building is the Tiankuang Hall, the sacred palace of the God of Mount Tai. Inside are stone inscriptions of the Qin Dynasty calligrapher Li Si’s seal script. I’ve always felt that visiting such cultural sites without a guide is a soulless stroll, but still we walked among these ancient buildings in our own way. After Dai Temple, we found a place to eat. Since arriving in Shandong, we hadn’t had a single proper meal with rice. After all, as southerners, rice is our staple. So for this final meal, when we asked for rice, the boss looked surprised and said there was none, only steamed buns and flatbread. Well, that’s the north for you, ha. That night, Lihua and Meihong put on their usual love-hate performance — a nightly must. May 26: Time to go home. No direct tickets to Nanchang, so we transferred in Bengbu. Meihong suggested we keep playing around in Anhui for a few more days, but I was completely broke — my pockets empty. I said, let’s go back, earn some money, save up travel funds, and set off again in a few months. It’s been nearly a month since I got home, and I’ve only now slowly sorted through these memories. As I get older, I forget things easily, so compiling this was a bit difficult. But I had to do it, to leave something to reminisce about when I’m old. This trip to Shandong was a rendezvous between mountains and seas. I came, I saw, and that is enough.