A Romantic Trip to Yuantouzhu and Serene Jinxi Interwoven with a Magical Shanghai Journey

As we all know, last year's cherry blossom season came right when the pandemic was still fresh, and nobody dared to step outside, let alone go blossom viewing. And me, ever since seeing the autumn leaves last year, I still haven't found a job. My friend said her compensatory leave was about to expire and asked me to take her out somewhere. So, we decided on a four-day Jiangsu-Shanghai trip and just set off. This year the weather warmed up early, and the forecast for Somei Yoshino peak bloom was pushed ahead, so we moved our departure from March 25th to March 18th. On the 17th we took a red-eye flight to Wuxi, landing in the early hours of the 18th. Before stepping out of the cabin, I'd already bundled up, expecting the cold, but my thin pants were no match for it—once again I went from 28 degrees to 10 degrees. Wuxi is really an odd city; it's the first time I've encountered hotels near the airport that don't offer shuttle services. We had to hail a Didi ourselves, and the storefronts had their lights off—how could they possibly get any business?

Day 1 – March 18th: We didn't reach our lodging until 2 a.m. My friend said she was hungry and ordered takeout, so we didn't actually fall asleep until after three. We wanted to sleep like logs, but the traffic noise outside woke us up, so we just got up and got going.

We planned to take a taxi to the airport and then the subway to our next stop, but there was a bus stop nearby that went directly to the subway station—no need to catch a ride. Just as we walked the short distance to the stop, the No. 753 bus paused briefly ahead of us and then zoomed off. I waved frantically from behind, all in vain. While waiting idly, I snapped some photos of the cherry blossoms lining the street. After two bus transfers, we finally reached Wangshan Road. I'd stayed here last time in Wuxi, so I came back. Right off the bus we saw pink-and-white weeping crabapple blossoms, and the sight got us so excited we started snapping pictures like crazy. We dropped our bags and went hunting for food. Passing by a local kindergarten, I was overwhelmed with envy. We spotted a distinctive-looking street and wandered in, finding a noodle shop where we each ordered a bowl of crab meat noodles. The intense crab flavor was so satisfying—pure happiness. After the noodles, we strolled along the Culture Street, also lined with weeping crabapple blossoms. I caught sight of Fan Li's business principles, still instructive even today. Seeing it was getting late, we decided to head straight to our next destination. My friend thought we'd go back to get more clothes first—it was only about 12 degrees—but she ended up spending the whole day in just a hoodie. On the way to the bus stop, I spotted corn poppies in the greenery strip for the first time and was stunned. We both started taking more photos. Our luck was rotten that day: while waiting at the red light to cross to the bus stop, the No. 131 bus sailed right past us. More waiting. Finally, we made it to Jingui Park, my first time seeing cherry blossoms on any real scale. There were pale pink and white varieties; the white ones were already at full bloom, while the pale pink would likely take a few more days. Quite a crowd had gathered to admire them. To the naked eye they were breathtaking; my phone camera couldn't capture it at all. The Cherry Blossom Avenue was gorgeous, and the white blooms beside it, like snow blanketing hills, were refreshingly beautiful. We'd come to Jingui Park mainly for the blossoms, so after walking the avenue we headed to the nearby Xuntang Ancient Town, cutting through the Wuxi government compound and Shangxianhe Wetland Park. I envied the public servants working here. It was a fairly long walk—over two kilometers—so unless you're used to walking, I'd suggest a taxi. We passed through birdsong and floral scents, crossed Shangxian Bridge, saw some old buildings, and found a path to enter. We met a little orange cat that kindly waited for me to snap a photo before scurrying off. Small bridges, flowing water, homes—just the feel I love. I guess this is what they mean by "ducks know first when the river warms in spring," so I followed them into a garden. A true Jiangnan garden. After exiting the garden and turning a corner, we were back at the bridge we'd crossed earlier. This ancient town was smaller than even the Humble Administrator's Garden—small but complete. By the time we finished looking around, it was dark. We hopped on the last bus to the subway and headed to Nanchan Temple. Passing through an underpass, we saw a food street, snacked a bit, and felt full. We then strolled along the river to Nanshangtang (the opposite bank of Nanchang Street). I remember falling in love with Nanchang Street my first visit—a free waterside grouping of old buildings, every bit as charming as the six famous ancient towns. Last time I'd rushed to catch my flight and missed the night view; this time I'd come specifically for it, the familiar riverbanks on both sides. Not wanting to retrace our steps, we walked into Bo'ao Port, heavy with life, in the dead of night with dim lights. That day we far exceeded our step count. I'd wanted to take a taxi back but ended up talked into the bus. We walked 26,000 steps. My friend said we'd done a year's worth of walking in one day. The whole day we hadn't spotted a single convenience store. Don't people in Wuxi need to buy water? Luckily, just before reaching our inn, we finally saw a small shop and grabbed four bottles in one go. Then it started raining—good thing we were already back. My friend ordered takeout again. She's a bad influence.

Day 2 – March 19th: We'd planned to get up early, but it was raining outside. Dawdling over whether to order breakfast delivery—which nobody delivered—we grabbed a random bite and didn't reach Yuantouzhu until past 10. We took our luggage straight to the Yuantouzhu visitor center for storage (they only accept suitcases under 24 inches, with a 50-yuan deposit per piece, to be collected by 4 p.m. when the deposit is refunded). We'd booked online the day before: 83 yuan per person. Cherry blossoms greeted us right after ticket check, but it was a rainy day. Walking about 200 meters to the left from the entrance took us to the scenic bus stop, just one stop to the Cherry Blossom Valley gate. Once inside, we were overwhelmed by cherry blossoms and couldn't move. I don't know how long we stood there before pressing on. We spotted a stall selling cherry blossom ice cream—lovely. The early cherry blossoms here had all fallen. Passing magnificent white blooms, I was surprised to see lush spiraea bushes all around, a stark contrast to the sparse ones I'd tried to grow at home. I heard these little flowers are a kind of early cherry. Here's one of the very few photos my friend took of me—she usually refuses. Crossing a bridge, we saw more weeping crabapple by the Cherry Blossom Villa. In the open space facing it, they'd set up a cherry blossom food festival with stalls selling the usual festival fare. We had a bowl of snail noodles and then made a beeline for the Blossom Viewing Tower. I'd come to Yuantouzhu specifically for this tower and Changchun Bridge, but sadly this area wasn't yet at full bloom—probably a few more days away. Even without visiting the Cherry Blossom Post Office, we saw wind chimes covering the trees. Various ancient-costume photo shoots occupied the prime viewing spots. Those drums were for a later performance; we'd come too early. From the opposite bank, I saw some performers rehearsing. Crossing the bridge took us to the China-Japan Cherry Blossom Friendship Forest, sort of a cherry blossom avenue. Past the China-Japan friendship stone, we reached the place where we'd eat, and further on was the Cherry Blossom Post Office, truly loaded with wind chimes. Turning past some restaurants, we saw the cruise dock. A bit further, a spot called "The Best Scene of Taihu" drew me in; a white-walled, black-tiled pavilion with a bench by the railing—its atmosphere was perfection. Rainy, so no sunset shots of Changchun Bridge—what a pity. Last time I'd only seen the tree with green leaves and found nothing special. After a quick walk on Changchun Bridge, we took the boat. Last time I'd sat inside the cabin; this time there were no seats, so we went to the upper deck, packed to bursting. I witnessed a flock of seagulls dancing in flight. Once on the Xian Island, announcements told us to take the 4:30 p.m. boat back. We reached Laozi's statue around 3:30. Then the visitor center called, asking if we were done and reminding us to get our luggage before 4. When they heard we were still on the island, they got anxious and told us to board immediately, sending one person by electric cart to the main gate for the bags—they were closing. Who knew the visitor center would close so early? No time to go uphill. Not even half an hour on the island, we rushed back on the boat, which left just before 4. The ticket included a bus ride, but the electric cart costs an extra 20 yuan a trip. Last time I missed the last bus and had to take the cart; this time, even with enough time, I couldn't escape it. You have to exit the scenic area to get back to the visitor center; once you leave, you can't linger. Argh! The visitor center staff had one person wait for me. After retrieving my luggage and returning the deposit, at 4:30 sharp they turned off the lights and locked up. I even saw another visitor going in with suitcases—maybe staying at the villa? After waiting for my dazed friend, we took the tourist shuttle straight to Wuxi Station, then a high-speed train to Kunshan South Station, and transferred to bus No. 133 to Jinxi. Luckily the train wasn't delayed, and we caught the 7 p.m. last bus. It was my first time on a bus where you scan your card both getting on and off—a dimly lit ride. Tonight's lodging was a B&B intentionally picked near the bus stop. The owner had a heavy accent; my friend understood him, but I didn't quite. Still, I couldn't tell if he was a chatterbox or just enthusiastic—he kept explaining everything after showing us to our room, as if afraid we couldn't even operate the TV. The B&B seemed newly opened, decorated in a sleek style I love, with water-town-themed wallpaper. Late already, we dropped our bags and went out for food. Not far into the old town, we spotted the legendary Xiangsu Chicken Snack Shop, supposedly the first to open and last to close in all of Jinxi. We randomly picked some skewers, ate them in the adjacent wind-and-rain corridor, just average fried stuff—nothing special, though not expensive. Because everything was deep-fried, we felt greasy by the end. Sitting along the river under the covered benches by the water, it reminded me a bit of Wuzhen's Xizha, but the dim lights brought to mind Zhouzhuang's pitch-black evenings. Other than that snack shop, almost everything in the old town was closed. We wandered to the cruise dock and finally saw the Ancient Lotus Bridge; with few people around and some nighttime illumination, it was magical. We ended up back at the bar next to Xiangsu Chicken—serene water-town nights, the life I yearn for. After a round, the old town didn't seem that big (definitely bigger than Xuntang Ancient Town), but the lingering grease from those snacks drove us to buy some fruit back to cut the oil. Tonight was the only night we didn't order takeout.

Day 3 – March 20th: Another leisurely morning. Only downstairs did I remember the B&B included breakfast. My friend, determined to try local flavors, insisted we skip it. Out on the street, we randomly chose a breakfast joint and ordered xiaolongbao, pan-fried xiaolongbao, and another kind I forget. We agreed the original xiaolongbao was better than the crab roe ones. The pan-fried buns weren't as greasy as the Cantonese version; one bite sent juice splashing onto my dress—scalding but utterly delicious. I was hooked and ordered another round. After breakfast, alleys with peeling paint on old houses gave me that Jiangnan water-town vibe: an uncommercialized residential area. That's where we'd entered the old town yesterday; now all the shops were open. The view was different at night—by the tributaries, spring was in the air. I'd brought along the Han-style skirt I'd prepared for Yuantouzhu, so of course I wanted some ancient-costume photos. Although it wasn't raining, it was still only around 10 degrees. While helping my friend snap pictures, I'd shed my coat, and a chill hit me. We met a guy who used me as a prop, but honestly, he took better photos than my friend. "Willows dark, flowers bright—another village." Small bridges, flowing water, life's simple pleasures; watching the spring breeze turning everything green, willows swaying. The Lianchi Zen Temple was free to visit, but we were in a hurry and didn't go in. Ancient Lotus Bridge—if it were summer, the pond would be filled with lotus fragrance. From the wind-and-rain corridor, we could vaguely see Imperial Consort Chen's tomb. Seeing it was nearly 11 a.m., and my friend had no sense of time when taking photos, we realized our plan to lunch in Shanghai was shot. We each grabbed a drink to tide us over on the high-speed train, but I was more taken by their murals. My first time in Greater Shanghai—time for a tourist photo. Maybe because I was hungry, my stomach ached a bit. I bought a big cream puff at the subway station, tasty but didn't help the pain. The hotel I'd booked near Shanghai Railway Station was hard to find; following the navigation led us to the public security bureau. After asking around, I learned it was the building's back entrance—the front was behind it, down a now-blocked alley. The front desk explained it used to be a lane, later closed off. Shanghai is different indeed: hotel prices were double those of the previous three days (likely because it was the weekend), but the facilities were high-end, even a small fridge (though we didn't use it). We dropped our bags and headed to the old street. Shanghai's old architecture felt less ancient than Suzhou's, more late Qing with a mix of Chinese and Western styles. I heard the old street was slated for renovation; roadside stalls were clearing inventory. Yuyuan Bazaar then led to the City God Temple; Yuyuan Garden seemed part of this area. All along, my stomachache nagged. My friend dragged me into a McDonald's, but everything she ordered was spicy chicken—inedible. First time navigating a Shanghai restroom: countless twists and turns then a climb to the second floor—truly a city of expensive real estate. I wasn't really hungry, just hurting. After Macca's, we turned into the square next to the City God Temple, vast and bustling with all sorts of lanterns and tightly packed pavilions. Maybe because it was the weekend, lots of tour groups crowded the area. I spotted someone embroidering; I wondered if Su embroidery differed much from Guangdong embroidery. My mom used to do embroidery when she was young; I still keep some of her works. Suddenly, a golden building caught my eye—quite fitting for its name. I wanted to find a Lawson convenience store to try an internet-famous bread, but following the navigation, I saw no store until I noticed the address was on the second basement level. Argh. After pacing back and forth, no stairs in sight, I gave up. On Shanghai streets, even zebra crossings have traffic lights. Now for the main event—the Bund. (We hadn't originally planned a Shanghai stop, but my friend insisted on seeing the night view, so here we were.) Walking toward the Oriental Pearl Tower, we saw a long row of magnificent, gold-lit European-style buildings. Up on the viewing promenade, we took countless dud photos trying to get shots without people on either side. We spent the evening arguing whether that blue building looked like a bottle opener or a nail clipper. It probably dropped below 10 degrees at night, and with the river breeze, we were shivering—not to mention my stomach still ached. A bit of goofing around. Who knew after walking the whole promenade, we'd find Nanjing Road nearby, where we saw many newlyweds taking wedding photos, looking frozen themselves. Following the crowd, I glanced back to see the Oriental Pearl Tower. We roamed around with the map, and before entering the subway, strolled a stretch of Nanjing Road—all brand-name stores, maybe like Suzhou's Guanqian Street with snacks hidden in side lanes? Forget it—my stomach hurt, so we headed back. My friend reverted to old habits and ordered takeout again, kindly getting porridge for my stomach. Placebo effect, maybe, but I felt a bit better after eating. The downside: a harsh lesson in Shanghai's garbage sorting.

Day 4 – March 21st: Originally, we'd planned to go to Gucun Park to round out this cherry blossom trip, but checking the route showed two hours round-trip. Our flight back to Guangzhou was at 2:30 p.m. We scrapped Gucun and just wandered around the train station area. Garbage sorting propaganda was everywhere. Public restrooms by the road were quite clean—Shanghai's daily life vibe. Before leaving, I'd read there might be mild sandstorms, but it had rained the past two days; today felt the smog of the Magic City. Morning haze. We passed by a building I wasn't sure was open to visitors; maybe too early or just closed. We drifted to Jing'an Sculpture Park, where I'd heard you could see cherry blossoms, but as you can see, they'd all withered. Eco-themed sculptures, the breath of spring. Around 11:30, we left the park. Given my stomachache yesterday, my friend felt guilty—thinking it was her fault for making me eat spicy food, skewers, fried chicken, and so on—so she found a salad place to eat greens. Today, a certain someone finally wore two layers. Shanghai's street names are so convenient, they'd apparently used up names of cities all over the country. At the airport, I unexpectedly found a Lawson and bought a frozen bread and a strawberry mooncake ice-skin cake—both delicious. Hongqiao Airport has self-service baggage check and ticket printing, super convenient. At first we queued at the counter for foreigners, encountering a group of oppas—I thought they were from the same hometown. Is Guangzhou that hot? People were already wearing slippers. After security, my friend told me the person ahead of her wearing boots had to take them off for inspection; the nearby benches were for just that. OMG, I'd flown several times and never seen that—learned something new. First time on a 10-seat row plane—huge. A long walk to my seat, each one equipped with a screen for shows, movies, or games, but no headphones. After climbing altitude, the sea of clouds was stunning, making up for missing the clouds at Huangshan. The plane meal wasn't bad; eating while watching the sunset was a delight. Descending—goodbye, sea of clouds. Safely landed in Guangzhou. My cousin warned it had cooled to 17 degrees; I weakly replied that the past few days had been even colder, so I didn't need to shed many layers—perfect! Though this trip was short, traveling together was pure joy. I hadn't planned to tally per-person costs, but here's a quick rundown: round-trip flights: 380 + 545 = 925 yuan; high-speed rail and other transport: 185 yuan; four nights' lodging: 315 yuan/person; food and drink: 320 yuan/person; Yuantouzhu ticket: 83 yuan; souvenirs: 65 yuan; total expense per person: just under 1,900 yuan. Laid-back as we are, we'd seen food recs on Douyin but just ate whatever we came across—nothing too fussy about food. The biggest takeaway about Wuxi: 1. If you see a vending machine at a subway station, buy water—convenience stores are rare on the streets; 2. If you can eat out, don't order delivery—I spotted delivery guys casually strolling while they delivered; 3. I heard Wuxi Airport is dual-use military/civilian, so no photos allowed. As they say, man plans and heaven laughs. This year's temperatures rose earlier than usual, but who knew it'd cool down right when we left, slowing the cherry blossoms. Sadly, we missed peak bloom and a romantic shower of petals—instead, we got rained on while flower viewing. Seeing photos others posted on the 25th from the Blossom Viewing Tower made me die of envy. Next time, I hope for Jiuzhaigou—but is the Chengdu-Lanzhou High-Speed Railway to Jiuzhaigou now stalled? Can Jiuzhaigou even be reached by high-speed rail anymore?