Dad’s Dream of the Ancient Capital
My childhood nickname was Bajin (eight pounds), and my formal name is even more rustic; since I started working, people call me Slippers because I’m in the slipper wholesale business. My dad is a true farmer. Ever since I can remember, he’d only ever pottered around our neighborhood. The farthest he’d been was Danfeng county town, and that was to look after my second uncle when he was in hospital—he’d never even set foot in the provincial capital! This year, as the pandemic swept across China, we all stayed home for over a month. When things eased a little, I took Dad to the ancient capital Xi’an over the Qingming holidays, fulfilling his old dream!
They say Xi’an is the city that’s been capital the most times, an ancient capital with a thousand years of history and culture, yet I’d never really delved into it. My kid was with the in-laws, so I brought Dad and Mum, with Juanzi—that’s my wife—and me. Off we went!
We came off the motorway at about 3 in the afternoon on the first day. Traveling with the whole family meant a lot of luggage, so driving was easier! I’d asked my friend Binzi to book a hotel. He chose the Jinjiang Inn on Jiangong Road. He said while it isn’t right in the city center, it’s very close to the Big Wild Goose Pagoda, Tang Dynasty Ever-Bright City, Tang Paradise, and the Shaanxi Provincial Museum—really convenient for getting around. Binzi often hosts people, so he ought to know his stuff! When we got to the hotel, we went through the routine of scanning the QR code and temperature checks, then hurried into the room. Dad and Mum aren’t young; after the long journey, I wanted them to rest up!
That evening I ordered a few home-style dishes from the hotel restaurant for the four of us, and we turned in early. I have to say, the food was surprisingly good—simple but generous portions, and really tasty. Everyone was satisfied. My compliments to the chefs!
I snapped a couple of photos—see, doesn’t it make your mouth water?
The next morning, luck wasn’t on our side: it started raining early. With limited time, we had to just go out in the drizzle.
First stop: Big Wild Goose Pagoda!
We parked near the North Plaza. So expensive—6 yuan an hour. If I’d known, I’d have followed the hotel staff’s advice and taken the metro. Oh well, nothing to be done. Dad and Mum weren’t bothered by the rain at all; they were full of enthusiasm. As long as they were happy, that’s what mattered. We strolled around the North Square, but sadly, because of the rain, we didn’t see the fountain show! The pagoda itself was magnificent. In the classic tale Journey to the West, it’s from here that the monk Tripitaka set off on his pilgrimage to India for scriptures.
In the South Square there’s a bronze statue of Master Xuanzang. Behind him, a towering pagoda rises in the centre of Da Ci’en Temple; it’s said that the sacred relics, Buddha statues and scriptures Xuanzang brought back from India are all stored inside.
After exploring the pagoda, the rain kept falling. We went on to Tang Paradise. I’ve heard that back in the day, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang expanded Qujiang on a vast scale, making it an unrivaled spectacle. In 2002, on the site of the original Tang Dynasty Lotus Garden, a full-scale replica of an imperial garden was built to showcase the glory of the high Tang. Though it’s a reconstruction, it’s still enough to demonstrate the grandeur of that golden age.
The scenery inside the garden was lovely, but the rain dampened things a bit. Dad and Mum were getting tired after all that walking, so Juanzi suggested the sightseeing trolley. That way they could still enjoy the views without exhausting themselves. Although it was a little pricey, the guide’s commentary was excellent and made up for our determination to press on through the weather!
The evening performances were too late, and Mum seemed to have caught a chill. I didn’t want her getting a proper cold, so we headed straight back. This year a fever is no joke—it could mean being quarantined!
After settling my parents in, I thought I’d pop to a pharmacy to buy some cold medicine as a precaution. But it was just one thing after another—no prescription, no sale! I had to go back and ask the hotel reception where I could buy some. After hearing our situation, the staff told us to go back to the room and rest while they sorted it out.
In less than fifteen minutes, there was a knock at the door. It was the manager, bringing us Gankang granules and amoxicillin, and she’d even made a big bowl of ginger soup for us. I was so grateful—such a godsend! Top marks to this hotel. Looks like Binzi’s recommendation was spot on. A little later, housekeeping brought up an extra duvet too. Really thoughtful. Honestly, this hotel felt warmer than any star-rated place I’ve stayed in.
Everyone was worn out, so we didn’t eat out. Mum had some ginger soup, sweated a little, and felt much better. We ordered a few dishes from the restaurant to eat in the room and called it an early night.
The next morning, it was still raining—“during Qingming the rain never stops,” as the poem goes. We did as the hotel staff suggested, had breakfast at the hotel, and left the car behind, taking the metro to the Shaanxi History Museum. Very handy—only 15 minutes!
The museum holds the relics of thirteen dynasties, from Zhou, Qin, Han and Tang. It’s a palace preserving the treasures of China, home to ancient pottery figures, porcelain, architectural fragments, Han dynasty bronze mirrors, gold, silver and jade ware, and currency through the ages. It reveals the majesty of the Han and the splendor of the Tang.
It’s a good thing we hired a guide to explain the history; otherwise we’d never have known just how profound Chinese culture is.
By the time we finished, it was already 1pm. We headed straight to the Muslim Quarter—I was determined to take Dad and Mum for soup dumplings. Jia San Soup Dumpling Restaurant was packed; we waited ages for a table. But once we tasted them—maybe we were just really hungry—the flavour was genuinely amazing. In the steamer the dumplings looked collapsed, but pick one up with chopsticks and it’s like lifting a water balloon, plump with broth. Be careful when you eat them, though—take it slow, or you’ll get broth all over your clothes and have laundry to do later! After lunch, we wandered around the Muslim Quarter a bit, then headed back to the hotel. Two days on the trot—I didn’t want to wear my parents out.
Tomorrow we’d be going home. That night, the whole family slept soundly. And so the simple trip came to an end. Dad said that in the ancient capital Xi’an, he’d seen how this land has flourished from ancient times right up to today, the five-thousand-year sweep of Chinese history. He hopes to come back to Xi’an one day, to learn more and dive deeper, and continue his dream of the ancient capital.
Before leaving, Dad didn’t forget to thank that manager who’d helped us out in a tight spot. As luck would have it, she was at the front desk when we checked out, so my wife took a photo with her. My heartfelt thanks to this hotel—warm, comfortable, reassuring. Next time we’re in Xi’an, we’ll be back! Thank you!
