Exploring Binjiang Forest Park
Binjiang Forest Park sits in Pudong’s Waigaoqiao area, right where the Huangpu River flows into the Yangtze. Near the river mouth there are two parks, and across the water in Baoshan District is Wusong Paotaiwan Park, which I’ve visited before.
Binjiang Forest Park is quite far from where I live. The map suggested taking the metro then a bus, with transfers along the way. I worked out a better route: first, Metro Line 8, switching to Line 3 to get to Songbin Road Metro Station; then cycling to the Wusong Ferry Terminal, crossing by ferry to the Sanchagang Ferry landing on the opposite side, and finally riding from Sanchagang to the park. The last stretch is a bit long, but you could also take a bus.
I walked across a bridge over Suzhou Creek, caught the metro at Qufu Road without any trouble, and arrived at Songbin Road Metro Station. Outside the station I found a yellow rental bike and pedalled to the ferry terminal.
The ferry took me across the Huangpu River. The weather was absolutely superb, with high visibility and the river calm and smooth. From the boat I could see the Wusong Port container terminal in the distance.
The crossing took just five minutes. After disembarking, I hopped back on the bike and headed straight for the park.
Binjiang Forest Park is quite large and wonderfully green. Looking up, you see towering trees, their leaves set against a blue sky and lit by strong sunlight until they gleamed a brilliant green. Beneath the big trees were shrubs, wildflowers, and ferns. Lower still were grassy lawns. Every layer, from top to bottom, was a feast of green.
I came to an area marked on the map as the aquatic plant garden, but a brick wall now slices off part of the park. Beyond the wall is a construction site—it looks like they’re putting up a building that has nothing to do with the park. The aquatic plant garden was reduced to a narrow little stream with small fish, and a few water plants, mostly sweet flag and pennywort, clinging to the edges and surface.
What I really wanted to see was the Yangtze riverbank, with its scenic promenade. On the way I passed the barbecue area, wreathed in smoke and buzzing with noisy crowds—easily the most raucous spot in the whole park. I’d come out to the countryside to escape the city’s clamour, not to eat barbecue in a place this loud. Not my thing.
The scenic promenade did not disappoint. The views are incredibly broad; paired with the fine weather, the water and sky merged into one blue expanse, and you could see for miles. Boats large and small came and went, a busy scene. On the left, across the Huangpu, was Wusong Paotaiwan Park, which I’d visited in spring. There’s an international cruise terminal there, and right now two enormous cruise ships were docked. My parents are coming to Shanghai soon to go on a cruise with friends—I’m pretty sure those are the very ships they’ll board.
Shifting my gaze to the right, I saw a handsome white lighthouse in mid-channel. Farther off, a row of wind turbines appeared, all three-bladed white giants. That’s Changxing Island. The promenade actually runs along a river embankment, and you can climb down to the shore. But there’s no beach, and the bank here is lined with breakwaters; the water was muddy, too, so I didn’t feel like going right down to the edge. In the distance was the Waigaoqiao port area, with its warehouses and cranes visible.
The distance from the riverbank to Changxing Island far exceeds the width of the Heilongjiang River at Heihe between China and Russia, yet it’s only one-fifth of the Yangtze’s mouth—that’s how wide this river is. Sadly, such vastness is hard to capture in a photo. I tried a panoramic shot, and it seemed a little better.
Walking east along the promenade, I saw plenty of wild roses and China roses on the embankment. They made lovely subjects against the blue sky and the great river.
At the end of the promenade I turned back into the park interior. There was still plenty of time, but with few attractions or facilities, and a long return journey ahead, I started heading towards the main gate.
Near the gate, a big lawn offered a fine scene. Lots of people had pitched tents on the grass, and flying kites was the main activity here. The sky was already dotted with kites—blue sky, green grass, and kites in every colour: a really beautiful picture.
Beyond the lawn lay a sunflower garden. Unfortunately, the season was nearly over, and the blooms were passing their peak. Still, a few flowers remained, and with the sun slanting low, the petals glowed golden, almost as if they radiated light themselves—truly like little suns.
A little farther on was a rose garden, with wooden arches and small arbours. The roses were flowering freely, but clearly not as vibrant as in springtime. A forest mini train chugged past.
Leaving Binjiang Forest Park, I’d thought about taking a different route back through Pudong. But the nearest metro station was about six kilometres away—a bit far, especially after hours of walking around with limited energy. So I decided to retrace my steps.
This outing, though not long, involved a whole mix of transport: walking, metro, bike, and ferry. I saw three waterways: Suzhou Creek, the Huangpu River, and the Yangtze. It felt colourful and full of variety.
