Ikaruga is a historic town near Nara, known for its important role in the early development of Buddhism and Japanese culture. At the heart of the town stands Hōryū-ji, one of Japan’s most significant ancient Buddhist temples. Founded in the early seventh century and closely associated with Prince Shōtoku, Hōryū-ji preserves some of the oldest surviving wooden structures in the world. In 1993, the Buddhist Monuments in the Hōryū-ji Area were inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List, recognizing the site for its exceptional wooden architecture, its importance in the history of Buddhism in Japan, and the way its buildings reflect the adaptation of Chinese Buddhist architectural traditions to the Japanese context.
Yet Ikaruga is more than a place of ancient temples and historical monuments. Walking through its quiet lanes and open countryside, with mountains on the horizon and old temples appearing unexpectedly among the trees, it is possible to sense how deeply the past remains woven into the landscape.
I travelled to Ikaruga in the early morning of December 2025, arriving while the town was still wrapped in the quietness of the beginning of the day. Unlike the busy streets of Osaka, Ikaruga felt almost completely removed from the rhythm of a modern tourist city. There were few people on the streets, little traffic, and hardly any of the noise. The town itself was modest and unassuming. Small, individually built houses stood closely along narrow streets, their tiled roofs and weathered walls softened by the pale winter light. Some houses had small gardens enclosed by low walls or wooden fences.
Rather than broad roads leading dramatically towards Hōryū-ji, there were small residential streets and narrow lanes, turning gently between houses and disappearing from view. The December morning air was cool and clean. The trees had largely lost their leaves, leaving bare branches silhouetted against a soft winter sky, while patches of evergreen remained around gardens and temple grounds. The low morning sunlight fell gently across the walls and rooftops, leaving some shadows of winter.
There was something beautiful about approaching Hōryū-ji in this way. At the end of the quiet road, the South Gate of Hōryū-ji suddenly came into view. After walking through the small residential lanes of Ikaruga, the sight of the great wooden gate felt almost like crossing a threshold into another age. It was imposing yet remarkably graceful. Its dark, weathered timber had been softened by centuries of exposure to sun, rain and wind, giving the wood a deep brown color and a texture that seemed to carry the weight of time. The massive wooden pillars rose firmly from the stone pavement, supporting the broad tiled roof whose gently curved eaves extended outward in the characteristic manner of traditional Japanese temple architecture.
Beyond the gate, my first glimpse of Hōryū-ji opened gradually. The Five-Story Pagoda rose prominently in the distance, its dark wooden tiers becoming smaller and smaller as they climbed towards the sky. Its silhouette was remarkably elegant—five carefully balanced roofs stacked one above another, each projecting outward beneath the next. Beside it stood the Main Hall (Kondō), lower and broader, with its own sweeping tiled roof and rows of ancient wooden columns. This place showcases the rustic beauty of 7th-century Japanese architecture.
What struck me most was the pagoda under the pale winter sky. It was not brightly coloured or freshly polished. Their surfaces had been naturally darkened by age, and the weathered timber seemed almost black from a distance. Yet this subdued appearance made the architecture feel even more ancient. The courtyard was spacious and remarkably quiet that morning, recalling a poem ‘All sounds have faded into silence; Only the temple bells linger in the air’. The stone pavement, the aged timber, the tiled roofs and the towering pagoda formed a composition of extraordinary simplicity. I seemed to be the first visitor to arrive at Hōryū-ji that morning. The temple grounds were almost completely empty. A few monks were already at work.They moved quietly across the temple grounds, each holding a simple broom of straw and slowly sweeping the stone paths and courtyard. The gentle, rhythmic sound of the bristles brushing against the ground was almost the only sound in the morning.
For a moment, its history was not only preserved in ancient timber, tiled roofs or priceless Buddhist sculptures. It was also preserved through small actions repeated day after day: opening the gates, sweeping the paths, tending the grounds, and beginning another morning in the same sacred place. Perhaps this was one of the most beautiful things about arriving so early. Before the temple became a destination for visitors, it was simply a temple beginning another day. There were no crowds and no voices around me. Only the soft sound of the brooms moved across the stone accompanied by the faint winter air.
The Daikōdō stands at the northern end of Hōryū-ji’s central courtyard, its broad horizontal form creating a striking contrast with the towering Five-Story Pagoda. With its deep tiled roof and dark, weathered wooden columns, the hall has a dignified yet peaceful appearance. Traditionally associated with Buddhist teaching and study, it was a place where monks gathered to learn and contemplate Buddhist teachings. Inside, the tranquil wooden interior houses Yakushi Nyorai, the Buddha of healing, accompanied by attendant bodhisattvas.
Outside the main temple buildings, Hōryū-ji opened into a much wider and more tranquil landscape outside the courtyard. The atmosphere here was completely different from the enclosed courtyards. It has lost some of the solemnity and grandeur of the palaces, but brought a sense of ease and tranquility in harmony with nature. Green trees were scattered throughout the grounds, their foliage standing out against the muted colors of the December landscape.
Small ponds appeared among the trees, their still surfaces reflecting fragments of the sky, branches and surrounding greenery. The wide paved paths stretched gently between the trees and temple buildings, leaving plenty of open space. Walking there alone, I felt no need to hurry from one attraction to another. The peaceful surroundings invited me simply to slow down, wander among the shadows of the trees and the water in the pond, occasionally stopping to quietly appreciate the scenery before me.
On the western side of Hōryū-ji, away from the more famous Five-Story Pagoda and Main Hall, I came to the Saien-dō, a smaller and more secluded temple hall standing quietly among the trees. The approach itself felt different from the grand central precinct. Instead of arriving at another monumental gate or an imposing courtyard, I followed a quieter path that gradually led upward through the greenery. Saien-dō has a much more modest presence than the great buildings of Hōryū-ji. Its circular form gives it an unusual appearance among the predominantly rectangular halls of the temple complex.
Standing before it, I found myself surrounded by the aged wooden surfaces, the ancient roof tiles, the wooden railings and the shadows cast beneath the eaves. The surrounding trees added greatly to its atmosphere. The fallen leaves lay scattered along the ground. The December landscape had a subdued beauty, with patches of green remaining among the bare branches and the soft light filtering through the trees.
In this temple, I have observed many similar buildings of this style. The Nishimuro is a long, relatively low wooden building, associated with the living quarters and activities of monks. Its architectural specialty is its early Japanese Buddhist timber construction. The building demonstrates the characteristic techniques of the Asuka–Nara architectural tradition which marks the introduction and early development of Buddhism and Buddhist architecture in Japan. It is characterized by timber construction with post-and-lintel structures, large timber columns supported horizontal beams, complicated bracketing systems supporting large tiled roofs, symmetrical temple layouts. Like other buildings at Hōryū-ji, it is especially significant because it preserves some of the oldest surviving wooden architecture in the world.
After wandering through the ancient temple grounds, I came to the Daihōzō-in, the Gallery of Temple Treasures. The collection inside is extraordinary in its variety. There are Buddhist statues, bodhisattvas, guardian figures, paintings, ritual objects, textiles and other works of religious art. Many of them are extraordinarily old, reaching back to the Asuka and Nara periods. Looking at them, I was struck by how different their appearance was from the familiar Buddhist images of later Japanese temples.
One of the most remarkable treasures associated with Hōryū-ji is the Kudara Kannon, a tall wooden image of Kannon traditionally associated with Baekje Korea. Its extraordinarily slender proportions and serene expression give it an almost otherworldly presence. The sculpture does not have the massive physicality of many later Buddhist statues. Instead, it seems to rise lightly and vertically, its elongated body creating an impression of extraordinary elegance.
The complex of Hōryū-ji is very large and needs around 1.5 hours to go through all the areas. It is worthy to visit it because I could experience one of the world’s most important surviving collections of early wooden Buddhist architecture in its original temple setting. It gives me a physical way to understand the transition from the Asuka period (538–710) into the Nara period (710–794) and the growing influence of Buddhism on Japanese culture.
Of course, everyone will take a photo with the iconic five-story pagoda which is a classical memory of Japanese travel.For me, this ancient tower holds more significance than just a treasured travel photograph. Seeing it standing silently beneath the winter sky, feeling the marks of time etched on its dark wood, made this trip truly special.
The Eastern Precinct (Tō-in) of Hōryū-ji is especially famous for the Yumedono (Hall of Dreams). Compared with the Western Precinct, which is associated with some of Japan’s oldest surviving Buddhist buildings, the Eastern Precinct has a somewhat different character: it is a memorial complex connected with Prince Shōtoku who was an influential Japanese prince, political leader, and patron of Buddhism during the Asuka period. He served as regent for Empress Suiko and is traditionally credited with helping strengthen the central government through the Seventeen-Article Constitution. According to temple tradition, he established the original temple, known as Wakakusa-garan, in the early 7th century.
The Eastern Precinct was established later, around the 8th century. Its centre is the famous Yumedono. It functions as a place where Prince Shōtoku’s spiritual legacy is commemorated. It stands at the centre of the Eastern Precinct, surrounded by a cloister. The name Yumedono, translated as “Hall of Dreams,” is connected with traditions about Prince Shōtoku receiving a vision or divine revelation at this location. The octagonal form makes the building visually distinctive.
After I left the Hōryū-ji, I passed a traditional Japanese private residence tucked along the quiet road toward Hōrin-ji. Its entrance is set behind a stone-walled courtyard, where green plants grow naturally around the edges, giving the property a secluded and peaceful character. A wooden entrance door forms the focal point, with two stone statues placed in front as quiet guardians. The combination of weathered stone, dark wood, and greenery gives the house a simple beauty typical of the traditional Japanese landscape with a sense of harmony, simplicity, and tranquility.
Ikaruga was a center of the early Buddhist and political world around Prince Shōtoku. His religious establishments were concentrated in this area. After his death, other members of his family continued establishing temples connected with him and his legacy. That’s why I could find many temples with the similar names. Hōrin-ji is a small and peaceful temple, just north of Hōryū-ji. It has a more rustic atmosphere than the larger Hōryū-ji complex.
Similar to Hōryū-ji, it has a three-story pagoda rising above the surrounding trees, which is one of the distinctive landmarks of Ikaruga. Traditional wooden temple buildings, with dark timber, tiled roofs, and restrained architectural decoration surrounded by stone features and garden vegetation present the unique architectural style of ancient Japanese temples. Its name means “Temple of the Dharma Wheel.” which symbolize the spread and operation of Buddhism. Tradition says it was founded by Prince Shōtoku’s son, Prince Yamashiro, to pray for his father’s recovery.
Near the temple buildings stands a large stone temizu basin filled with clear water. A small ladle rests beside it, inviting visitors to scoop the water and purify themselves before continuing through the temple grounds. This kind of device can be seen in many temples in Japan. It may be a symbolic act of purification before approaching sacred spaces.
The walk I took from Hōryū-ji to Hōrin-ji to Hōkki-ji is actually passing through one of Japan’s most concentrated landscapes of 7th-century Buddhist history. The ordinary houses, stone walls, fields, and narrow roads between the temples are inalienable part of that historic Ikaruga setting rather than simply being a modern neighborhood around three temples.
The wide fields, distant mountains and an expansive sky, create a peaceful rural horizon. Standing there with the fields stretching out before me, I stopped and took a photograph of the landscape. Many Japanese towns are framed by mountains, particularly toward the north, because much of Japan’s interior is mountainous. Even places densely populated often have mountains quietly appearing beyond the buildings. In Ikaruga, however, there were few structures to interrupt the view, so the town, the fields and the surrounding mountains was especially clear.
At a quiet corner of the country road, I unexpectedly encountered my last destination, Hōki-ji. It was almost hidden from view, tucked away in a small patch of woodland at the edge of the fields. Through the trees I caught my first glimpse of the classical three-story pagoda, rising quietly above the surrounding greenery. This temple is also deeply connected with the early history of Japanese Buddhism. Tradition associates it with Prince Yamashiro no Ōe, the son of Prince Shōtoku.
在乡间小路一个安静的转角处，我意外地遇见了此行的最后一站法起寺。它几乎隐没在视线之外，静静地藏身于田野边缘的一小片树林之中。透过树木的枝叶，我第一次望见了那座经典的三重塔，塔身从周围的绿意间悄然升起。法起寺同样与日本早期佛教的历史有着深厚的渊源。根据传统记载，这座寺院也与圣德太子的儿子山背大兄王（Yamashiro no Ōe）有关。
The main hall, although much less imposing than the great halls of Hōryū-ji was modest with traditional tiled roofs, and the surrounding grounds were simple and uncluttered, no extra decorations. The three-Story Pagoda was built in the seventh century; one of the oldest surviving three-story pagodas in Japan and the oldest surviving pagoda in the country. Its dark wooden structure stood beautifully against the open sky, each successive roof becoming smaller as the tower rose upward.
By the time I reached Hōki-ji, I had spent the day walking through the small lanes of Ikaruga, visiting ancient temples and gradually moving farther into the countryside. The temple felt like a fitting conclusion to the journey. What moved me most was that history here did not feel like something preserved only for tourists; it remained quietly rooted in everyday life and in the corner of country landscape. After so many centuries, history in Ikaruga does not seem to shout for attention. It was simply waiting for those who are willing to slow down and notice it.
This blog is my 100th blog which is dedicated to Singapore where I have been living for more than twenty years. I will narrate in the view of a resident but not a tourist.
In 2005, I arrived in Singapore as a secondary school student carrying little more than curiosity, uncertainty, and expectations for a new life. At that time, I never imagined that this small island would eventually become my second hometown. Over these two decades, Singapore has become more than a place where I studied and worked, it has become the backdrop of my youth and adulthood. Here, I learned to adapt to unfamiliar cultures, make friendships across different backgrounds, and find my own place in a fast-moving society. There were moments of excitement and achievement, but also periods of loneliness, pressure, self-doubt, and quiet persistence that few people could see.
Life in Singapore has never felt one-dimensional to me. It tasted sweet in moments of growth and belonging; sour when plans did not go as expected; spicy in the intensity and competition that pushed me forward; and bitter in missed opportunities, and the distance from what once felt like home. Yet looking back, every stage became part of the person I am today.
For many people arriving in Singapore, the first memory begins at the airport. Mine did too. The moment I stepped out of Changi Airport, I still remember the sensation vividly. Before I had time to notice the surroundings, I felt the warm, humid air wrapping around me instantly. It was so different from where I had come from. There was no dramatic welcome, no grand moment, just that quiet realization that I had entered a completely different climate, a different rhythm of life, and perhaps the beginning of a different version of myself.
Changi Jewel was the landmark which was built years after I arrived in Singapore. What impressed me most was the vast glass dome filled with natural light and tropical greenery. At its center, water falls continuously from above. At night, streams of coloured light begin to move across the falling water while music fills the vast glass dome. The waterfall becomes a shifting curtain of light, changing from deep blue to warm gold, from soft waves to bursts of color and motion. Every time when I passed through and hear the sound of falling water beneath the glass roof, I am reminded of that first arrival many years ago.
The first place I called home in Singapore was the Hwa Chong boarding school. Looking back now, it feels strange to realize that my understanding of Singapore did not begin in the city center, among skyscrapers, but in a school campus. In the mornings, birds would begin singing before the day fully started. Throughout the day, insects buzzed among the trees, creating a constant background soundtrack that made the environment feel alive.
Coming from a different place, I was surprised that a highly developed city could still feel so green and so connected to nature. The sky seemed so blue, brighter than I expected. Everywhere was greenery. Trees lining the roads, lawns stretching between buildings, and tropical plants appeared dense and full of life. Angsana trees grow so tall and elegant with dense foliage and are planted extensively along the Bukit Timah Road.
Although so many years passed, the memory of the campus still lingered in my memory. The campus was spacious, with broad roads, old buildings, soccer fields, and mature trees. The iconic clock tower standing above the grounds gave the place a certain solemnity. The school traces its origins to The Chinese High School, founded in 1919 by Tan Kah Kee, one of the most influential overseas Chinese philanthropists and educators. Years later, when I visited Jimei School Village in Xiamen, I experienced an unexpected sense of familiarity. Both were created through Tan Kah Kee’s educational vision and developed into a complete educational community.
Life at the boarding school was also my first lesson in independence. Everything suddenly became my own responsibility: waking up on time, managing schoolwork, adjusting to new food, making friends, and learning how to live away from family. Not far from the boarding school was a place that quietly became part of my first memories of Singapore: the Singapore Botanic Gardens.
Whenever I visited it on weekends, I was struck by how natural everything felt. Tall rain trees stretched their branches across wide lawns, tropical plants grew in layers of green, and shaded paths curved gently instead of following rigid lines. The air always seemed cooler, softened by the dense vegetation. After a sudden tropical rain, the scent of wet soil would linger in the air. Many families would come here for a picnic on the lawns.
It has extraordinary historical significance. Founded in 1859, it became Singapore’s only UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2015. The gardens played an important role in the cultivation and distribution of rubber across Southeast Asia in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, shaping the economic development of the region. UNESCO also recognized it as an exceptionally well-preserved example of a British tropical colonial botanic garden whose original landscape have remained remarkably intact over time.
Unlike the wider Botanic Gardens, where greenery stretches quietly and naturally across the landscape, the Orchid Garden feels more curated. Walking through its entrance, I felt being greeted by layers of color. Against the tropical backdrop of palms, old trees, and filtered sunlight, the garden was like a living gallery.
Before visiting it, I thought that orchids were elegant but simple flowers. Inside, I discovered how different they could be, tiny and delicate, large and sculptural, pure white, vivid purple, spotted and striped. The garden was designed with different sections with different color and landscape.
Orchids are more than ornamental flowers. They became part of the country’s identity, national flower of Singapore. The beautiful Vanda orchid is very commonly displayed in the garden. It has thick strap-like leaves growing along an upright stem and large flat flowers with the characteristic purple or pink tessellated pattern. They looked really elegant with long and wide petals and soft colors.
I enjoyed the atmosphere around lakes in the garden. Early in the morning, the water is as smooth as glass, perfectly reflecting the surrounding rainforest trees, elegant palms, and the blue sky. A gentle breeze occasionally ripples the surface, causing the reflections to shimmer like an impressionist painting. Walking along the lakeside paths, I could hear birds singing and leaves rustling in the wind and felt completely removed from the pressures of school.
I spent two years in Xinmin Secondary School （my first school in Singapore） preparing for the O Level examinations, but looking back, the examinations themselves were only part of the challenge. The greater test was learning how to begin in a completely unfamiliar environment. The school system was different, and I must improve my English to adapt to it. The teaching methods were different, and I suddenly found myself surrounded by classmates who had grown up in a culture that was still new to me. Every day brought something unfamiliar, from the way lessons were conducted to the conversations happening around me. I gradually learnt to adapt to this international and multicultural environment.
The first thing that Singapore left me deep impression was the co-existence of different cultures. Although Singapore is a small island, it is home to people of many different ethnicities and religions. Chinese, Malays, Indians, and Eurasians have lived together for generations, each contributing to the country’s identity while preserving their own traditions. Christian churches form an important part of Singapore’s architectural landscape. Historic buildings such as St Andrew’s Cathedral, with its elegant white Gothic Revival architecture, stand as reminders of Singapore’s past.
In Kampong Glam, the golden dome of Sultan Mosque rises above rows of restored shophouses. The district reflects Singapore’s rich Malay and Arab heritage, where traditional architectures and historic streets coexist with contemporary art and design, forming the unique charisma of this city.
I passed by many traditional shophouses with colorful wooden shutters and decorative windows near Chinatown. Some of these historic streets, especially along Telok Ayer Street reminded me of the old streets of Quanzhou. Their rows of narrow shophouses, timber window shutters, and pastel-coloured façades share a similar architectural heritage, reflecting the influence of Southern Chinese migrants who settled throughout Southeast Asia in the nineteenth century.
A short distance away lies Little India, where brightly painted buildings, colorful murals, and the magnificent Indian Temple create an atmosphere entirely different from Chinatown. Singapore places great importance on racial harmony and mutual respect. The architectures of different styles and neighborhoods quietly demonstrate how different cultures can preserve their own identities while contributing to a shared national community.
Although adapting to school demanded most of my time and energy, I also wanted to discover the country that had suddenly become my new home. Whenever I had a free weekend or during school holidays, I would visit different parts of Singapore. Everything was new to me. I remember taking my first trip to Sentosa, where the beaches and relaxed atmosphere made it feel like a tropical resort.
Most of the time, I did not take the monorail to Sentosa. Instead, I preferred to walk from HarbourFront along the Sentosa Boardwalk. Although it took a little longer, the journey itself became part of the experience. The promenade stretches gently over the water, connecting the mainland to the island. Walking there, I was accompanied by the sea breeze, the sound of waves lapping against the shore, and the warm tropical sunshine. On one side lay the calm blue waters of Keppel Harbour, where yachts rested quietly in the marina. On the other side, Sentosa’s beaches and lush greenery gradually came into view, making the island feel closer with every step. Above me, the cable car glided silently across the sky. Its colorful cabins looked almost like small floating lanterns moving steadily between HarbourFront and Sentosa.
Sentosa feels like a place designed for leisure and escape. Surrounded by the sea, the island offers sandy beaches, tropical forests, waterfront promenades, and attractions that invite people to slow down and enjoy the outdoors. Over the years, I encountered several joint events of collaboration held on the island. This picture was taken on 2022 when Genshin Impact gained great reputation internationally and its main character and also my favorite character Paimon arrived at Sentosa.
These days, Disney brought its beloved characters and stories to the waterfront through family-friendly events. Familiar beaches that I had walked along countless times suddenly took on an entirely different atmosphere. What impressed me was how naturally these events blended with the tropical surroundings. Instead of feeling like temporary exhibitions placed on a beach, the colorful installations stood among coconut trees, against the backdrop of blue skies and the sea.
When I first arrived in Singapore, Sentosa was already a popular destination, but over the years I witnessed its remarkable transformation. New attractions, hotels, and entertainment facilities continued to emerge. One of the most significant additions was Resorts World Sentosa, an integrated resort that transformed the northern part of the island. At its heart stands Universal Studios Singapore, the first Universal Studios theme park in Southeast Asia. Walking beneath the iconic rotating globe at its entrance always feels like stepping into another world.
For me, I prefer beach more than those entertainment facilities. I enjoy the moment of stepping onto the soft sand of Palawan Beach. The white sandy shore curves gently around clear blue water, making it an ideal place for a leisure walk. The iconic suspension bridge leading to the small offshore islet has become one of Sentosa’s most recognizable landmarks. Standing there, surrounded by the sea and looking towards the horizon, I often felt far away from the bustling city.
After crossing the suspension bridge. I was fascinated by the sign marking it as the “Southernmost Point of Continental Asia.” Standing there, surrounded by the sea on all sides, I felt as though I had reached the edge of a vast continent and was connected to the remoteness in an interesting way.
The observation towers offered panoramic views of the Malacca Strait. Every day, thousands of vessels pass through this narrow gateway linking the Indian Ocean with the South China Sea and the Pacific Ocean. Standing on the southern shore of the island, my eyes were always drawn towards the vast expanse of water stretching into the distance. On clear days, the sea and the sky seemed to merge into a single line at the horizon. Looking back toward the island, palm trees, beaches, and the skyline of Singapore appeared in the distance.
What I loved most was staying here until sunset. As evening approached, the tropical heat gradually softened, and the sea breeze became cooler. The sky transformed from brilliant blue to shades of gold, orange, pink, and finally deep purple. The sunlight shimmered across the calm water, creating a path of light that seemed to stretch endlessly toward the horizon. The silhouettes of coconut trees stood against the glowing sky, while small waves rolled gently onto the shore with a soothing rhythm. I walked barefoot along the beach, leaving footprints that disappeared with the next wave. I listened to the sound of the waves and felt the warm sea breeze brushing against my cheek. After days filled with studying and adapting to a new life, those evenings by the sea brought a rare sense of peace.
Compared with Palawan Beach, the Siloso Beach is livelier and more energetic, with beach volleyball courts, cafés, and people enjoying water sports or simply gathering with friends. Music drifts through the air, and the promenade is always full of joggers, cyclists, and families strolling beneath rows of palm trees. The background is the Shangri-la Sentosa hotel which is popular place for tourists.
Unlike most luxury hotels in the city centre, which overlook skyscrapers and busy streets, this hotel faces the sea. Tucked away at the western end of Siloso Beach and surrounded by tropical greenery, it feels like a quiet sanctuary where the pace of life slows down. What I loved most was the view from the room’s balcony. Looking out through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the first thing that caught my attention was the endless blue sea stretching towards the horizon. Sunlight danced across the water, creating countless sparkling reflections that changed with every passing cloud. Rows of coconut palms swayed gracefully in the warm tropical breeze.
In my school weekends, I would visit the famous sites in the city center. For me, the city centre of Singapore is more than a collection of famous landmarks. It is a place where the country’s history, which I first learned in social studies lessons, comes alive. As a student, I memorized dates and events for examinations. Years later, walking through these same places, I realized that the lessons were no longer just words in a textbook. They had become part of the landscape around me.
Whenever my friends or relatives visited Singapore, I would often take them on the same route. I usually began at Merlion Park. Standing beside the Merlion, with water continuously flowing from its mouth into Marina Bay. The lion represents the legendary story of discovery when explorer first landed in Singapore, while the fish body reflects the country’s humble origins as a fishing village known as Temasek. Behind the statue rose the gleaming skyline of the financial district, creating a striking contrast between Singapore’s distant past and its modern identity.
From there, the view naturally led towards Raffles Place, the heart of Singapore’s financial centre. Glass skyscrapers now dominate the skyline, housing banks, multinational corporations, and global financial institutions. Yet beneath this modern landscape lies the foundation laid by Sir Stamford Raffles in 1819, when Singapore was established as a British trading port.
In my social studies and history classes, I learnt that Sir Stamford Raffles introduced the first town plan for Singapore, later known as the Jackson Plan. It organized the young settlement into districts for different communities. In 19th century, Singapore was a sparsely populated island at the Strait of Malacca, but Raffles recognized its extraordinary geographical advantage. His policy of free trade attracted traders from China, the Malay Archipelago, and the Middle East, laying the foundation for the multicultural society that defines Singapore today.
Walking through the Civic District today feels like stepping into that chapter of history. Along the Singapore River stand elegant white colonial buildings whose architecture contrasts sharply with the surrounding glass skyscrapers. Their tall columns, wide verandas, symmetrical façades, and high ceilings were designed not only to reflect British architectural traditions but also to adapt to Singapore’s tropical climate by encouraging natural ventilation.
Among the most impressive is the former Parliament House, one of Singapore’s oldest surviving government buildings. It has a beautiful neoclassical facade. This building witnessed some of the country’s most important moments, from the Japanese surrender at the end of the Second World War to the political developments that eventually led to Singapore’s independence.
Further along the river is the former Fullerton Building. Once the General Post Office and an important administrative centre during the colonial era, it now serves as the luxurious Fullerton Hotel. Its transformation reflects Singapore’s approach to development: preserving historical architecture while giving old buildings new life.
Not far away, Victoria Theatre and Victoria Concert Hall continue to host performances more than a century after they were built in 1905 as the Victoria Memorial Hall, which was erected to commemorate the death of Queen Victoria. The name “Victoria” appears throughout Singapore because of its history as a British colony. The clock tower remains one of the familiar landmarks along the river, quietly linking the colonial past with the cultural life of present-day Singapore.
What fascinates me most is the contrast. Within a few minutes’ walk, I can move from nineteenth-century colonial buildings to some of the most futuristic skyscrapers in Asia. When I stand in front of the lawn in City Hall, I had a panoramic view of the city. On one side stand the grand colonial buildings: the Old Supreme Court and the former Parliament House which are reminders of the British era. On the other side rises a completely different Singapore: a skyline of glass, steel, and ambitious architecture built after the nation became independent in 1965.
Once upon time, Marina Bay was far less developed. Some of today’s most famous landmarks did not exist. Over the years, I watched new buildings rise, new parks appear, and the waterfront gradually become recognizable cityscapes in the world. One of the most striking symbols of this transformation is the Marina Bay Sands built around 2010. Rising above the skyline of Marina Bay, it is one of Singapore’s most recognizable architectural masterpieces. Three elegant glass towers stand side by side, appearing like giant pillars reaching toward the sky. Resting across their summits is a remarkable structure that resembles a sleek ship floating high above the city. Every tourist will take a photo together with this building to memorize their trips of Singapore.
Standing along Marina Bay, the view is especially striking at night. Its illumination shimmer against the skyline, while music often drifts from the outdoor stages. From the seaside promenade, visitors can enjoy sweeping views of the bay, the illuminated city’s skyscrapers, and the sparkling surrounding landmarks.
The Esplanade （Theatres on the Bay） has the nick name “Durian” due to its shape. The building is so recognizable because of its two distinctive domes covered with more than 7,000 triangular aluminum sunshades. Opened in 2002 along the Marina Bay waterfront, it makes the arts accessible to everyone. Throughout these years, it hosts hundreds of free performances ranging from local bands and traditional music to dance and school performance.
The Singapore Flyer which looks like the London Eyes is another quite recognizable landmarks and one of the world’s tallest observation wheels, standing 165 meters high. Completed in 2008, the Singapore Flyer was designed to symbolize the nation’s ambition and confidence as a modern global city. From a distance, its elegant circular form has become an iconic feature of the Marina Bay skyline.
On the opposite side of Marina Bay stands the Garden by the Bay. The giant Supertrees, futuristic conservatories, and waterfront gardens show a vision of Singapore that goes beyond simple urban development. Instead of choosing between a modern city and nature, Singapore tried to combine both. This was one of the things that impressed me most over the years. Even as new skyscrapers appeared in the city center, greenery remained an essential part of the city.
Whenever I walk through the gardens today, I think about how much Singapore has changed since my first arrival. Every time I raised my head, and I would watch new landmarks rise, new buildings emerge, and the skyline continually evolve. Gardens by the Bay is perhaps the clearest symbol of that transformation.
The most iconic feature in this garden is undoubtedly the Supertree Grove. Rising between 25 and 50 meters above the ground, these towering steel structures resemble giant trees from a science-fiction world. Covered with thousands of orchids, ferns, bromeliads, and other tropical plants, they are not merely sculptures but living vertical gardens.
The extraordinary diversity of plants fascinated me as well. I had never imagined that a single garden could bring together vegetation from so many different climates and continents. I felt like walking through a living museum of the world’s most unusual plants like Madagascar Palm, Baobab Trees, Nepenthes…
The outdoor gardens and lakes are home to elegant Amazon water lilies, one of my favorite sights. They are the most eye-catching aquatic plants. Their broad, circular leaves float effortlessly on the still water, while delicate flowers bloom in shades of white and pink. On calm mornings, the flowers are perfectly reflected on the water’s surface, creating a scene that feels almost like a landscape painting of Claude Monet.
I enjoy walking along the seaside of Marina Bay. The skyline changed continuously during the years that I was growing up here. As a secondary school student, I learned Singapore’s history from textbooks. As an adult, I saw those chapters reflected in the city itself, from the colonial buildings around City Hall to the futuristic towers of Marina Bay. That is why these areas remains one of my favorite places. Within a single walk, I can move through more than two centuries of history and, at the same time, see a glimpse of the future that the city is still trying to build.
After O level exam, I entered the Victoria Junior College in 2008. For many students in Singapore, junior college is one of the next stages of education similar to pre-university school. The two years preparing for the A Levels often feel intense, because the results influence which university and path may open afterward. Looking back, my time at Victoria Junior College was one of the most demanding periods of my student life, but also one of the most memorable.
The campus was just five minutes’ walk distance from the East Coast, and that proximity changed the rhythm of life. Unlike the dense urban image many people have of Singapore, my memories of those school days are filled with open skies and the blue sea which is always my favorite landscape.
Life there required discipline and persistence. Weekdays were filled with lectures, tutorials, assignments. On some afternoons, after classes ended, I could see the blue water stretching into the distance. I would walk along the East Coast promenade beneath rows of coconut trees. The sea breeze softened the heat of the day, and for a while the pressure of studying seemed to drift away with the sound of the waves.
Weekends felt like small rewards after a week of studying. Sometimes I went with friends to the East Coast food village. We would sit together eating freshly fried chicken wings and drinking cold coconut juice while talking about school, exams and future plans. Other times, we rented bicycles and rode along the coastline. With the sea breeze greeting me and the wheels rolling along the coastal path, those simple, carefree moments remain to this day among my most cherished memories of my junior college years.
At the time, those moments felt ordinary. We rarely thought they would become memories worth keeping. But now, even years after graduation, when I think back to that period, what returns first is not exam scores. I remember the sea reflecting the evening light, the rows of coconut trees, the laughter of friends over simple food, and the feeling of freedom hidden inside a busy student life.
After the end of A-Level examinations in Dec 2009, life suddenly slowed down. There was 7 months gap before university started. Like many students, I took the opportunity to experience working life. I found a part-time job as a waiter in a hotel at the Clarke Quay, serving guests from all over the world. It was my first taste of earning my own salary and learning what it meant to be responsible in a professional environment. Standing for long hours, carrying trays, and serving customers was tiring, but it taught me lessons that could never be learned in a classroom.
Looking back, those months formed a bridge between school and adulthood. In July 2020, I started my university life in Nanyang Technological University. Among all the places I studied in Singapore, it remains the most beautiful in my eyes. At the Yunnan garden stands the iconic memorial gate, one of the symbols linking the university to its origins. It traces back to Nanyang University, founded in 1955 through the vision and support of the Chinese community in Southeast Asia. The gate quietly connects the modern university with its historical roots.
Yunnan Garden carries a different atmosphere from the rest of the university. Designed in the style of a traditional Chinese landscape garden, it combines water, stone, bridges, trees, and carefully arranged spaces to create a sense of calm and balance. Walking there in the evening felt like stepping into another world. There were flowering plants throughout the seasons, quiet ponds reflecting the sky, shaded paths, and corners where students sat to read or simply enjoy the silence.
Unlike the dense urban landscape that many people associate with Singapore, the campus felt open and almost retreat-like. It was built on rolling land and surrounded by greenery. There were red-roofed residential halls scattered across the hills, small lakes reflecting the changing sky, tropical forests preserved between buildings, and gardens woven naturally into daily student life. In the mornings, the air often felt fresher than in the city, and after rain the scent of wet grass and trees lingered on the pathways.
Today, many people associate NTU with The Hive which is the famous learning hub with its distinctive rounded towers that resembles beehives. It has surname ‘Xiaolongbao’ because it really looks like bamboo steamers of xiaolongbao stacked together. It has become one of the university’s most recognizable landmarks and appears in countless photographs. Yet it was completed after I had already graduated, so my memories belong to an earlier NTU. When I return and see The Hive standing there now, it feels like seeing a younger generation’s version of the university.
For me, I spent 8 years studying in Singapore. Finishing secondary school led to junior college, finishing A Levels led to university. But graduation in NTU marked something more final, it marked the transition from adolescence into adulthood. It was the end of nearly a decade of studies and the beginning of working life. Standing at the graduation ceremony in July 2014 in graduation robes, I realized that Singapore had quietly become more than a place where I came to study. It had become the place where I grew up.
Graduating from Nanyang Technological University marked the end of my years as a student, but it also marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life. For the first time, I entered the workforce and began building a career in Singapore. The island that had once been a place of study gradually became the place where I lived, worked, and planned my future. As the years passed, I became a Singapore Permanent Resident, and later, a Singapore citizen. For so many years, what impresses me most is its environment.
Singapore is often described as a “City in a Garden”. One of the most remarkable aspects of Singapore is the way nature coexists with urban life. In the Central Business District, towering skyscrapers of glass and steel rise above streets lined with rain trees and tropical palms. Vertical gardens climb the façades of office buildings, rooftop parks create green spaces high above the city.
As a resident, I became interested in a different side of the country. Instead of rushing to the most popular tourist destinations, I found myself enjoying places where Singaporeans spend their everyday lives. I walked through the quiet trails of Fort Canning Park, where history is hidden beneath lush greenery and ancient trees. Standing on a hill in the heart of the city, the park offers a peaceful escape from the surrounding skyscrapers. It is hard to imagine that just beyond the trees lie Orchard Road, Clarke Quay, and the busy Central Business District.
Walking through the park, I often felt as though I was travelling through different periods of Singapore’s history. Long before the arrival of the British, this hill was believed to be the seat of the Malay kings of ancient Singapura. This Pancur Larangan garden on the way to the hilltop means “Forbidden Spring” in Malay. According to historical accounts and local legend, this was once a sacred spring reserved exclusively for the royal family of the ancient Kingdom of Singapura. Ordinary people were forbidden from using its waters, giving rise to the name that has survived for centuries.
In the nineteenth century, Sir Stamford Raffles chose the hill as the site of his residence because of its commanding view over the Singapore River and the harbour. Later, the hill became an important military stronghold, and during the Second World War it served as the headquarters of the British Malaya Command. It was here that British commanders made the difficult decision to surrender Singapore to the Japanese in 1942.
Now the park has wide lawns stretching beneath towering rain trees, and shaded pathways wind through tropical gardens, and colorful flowering plants brighten every corner. Ancient trees stand beside archaeological sites, while historic gates, stone walls, and colonial relics quietly blend into the landscape.
The famous spiral staircase at the exit of the park descends through a circular opening surrounded by enormous rain trees. Looking upward from the bottom, the layers of branches and leaves frame the sky like a natural cathedral. It has become one of Singapore’s most photographed locations.
Singapore feels so different from many other global cities. Despite its high population density, the city rarely feels dominated by concrete. Instead, tropical trees, flowering shrubs, lakes, and parks create a sense of openness and calm. In many cities, disused railway lines are demolished and quickly replaced by new buildings. In Singapore, the former railway was preserved and transformed into a continuous ecological corridor that connects parks, forests, and nature reserves across the island. It is a perfect place for residents to have a jogging and approaching nature in the weekend.
Nowadays, I live in the neighborhood not far away from Bukit Timah Nature Reserve, one of Singapore’s oldest and most important, protected rainforests. Whenever I have free time at the weekend, I enjoy walking through the reserve to the summit of Bukit Timah Hill, the highest natural point in Singapore, standing at just 163 meters above sea level. Although the hill is modest in height compared with mountains in other countries, the journey is surprisingly rewarding. The trail winds through one of the few remaining patches of primary rainforest in Singapore, where towering trees form a dense canopy overhead, allowing only scattered rays of sunlight to reach the forest floor.
One of the things I have to appreciate most is how well the natural environment is protected inSingapore. Even near my home, I often encounter animals that remind me how closely the city and nature coexist. During my walks through nearby parks and nature reserves, it is common to see squirrels darting effortlessly between tree branches, pausing for a moment before disappearing into the canopy. Large lizards move slowly along the edges of lakes and streams. Elegant swans and other water birds glide across the reservoirs, their reflections mirrored on the still water.
Singapore was the first foreign country I ever visited, and it became the gateway that opened my eyes to the wider world. Looking back over the past twenty years, my relationship with Singapore has evolved alongside my own life. It is the place that gave me the confidence to begin every journey that followed and also becomes my second hometown. Each time I walked through those arrival halls of Changi Airport with words ‘Welcome home’ and felt the familiar humid air again, there was always a quiet thought in my mind: I’m back home！
Xiamen was my last stop in the Christmas trip 2024. It a beautiful city where the sea whispers to the shore draped in sunlight and sea breeze. Here, waves kiss the white sands of Huandao Road, and Kulangsu’s winding alleys hum with stories of a bygone era. Palm trees sway over seaside cafés, and each sunset spills gold into the harbor. Between the scent of salt in the air and the melody of the tides, Xiamen invites me to slow my pace, breathe deeply, and let the ocean’s rhythm guide me finish the whole journey.
When I just arrived, I found that Xiamen and Singapore share quite a few similarities, especially from a travel and lifestyle perspective. Both are island-based cities connected to the mainland by bridges. Surrounded by the sea, they have a strong maritime character and a history shaped by trade. Xiamen’s Kulangsu Island and old neighborhoods reflect a fusion of Chinese, Western, and Southeast Asian styles. Singapore also blends Chinese, Malay, Indian, and colonial heritage into its urban fabric.
Xiamen’s story is written by the sea. Once a small fishing settlement, it rose to prominence in the 17th century as a key port for maritime trade along China’s southeastern coast. During the Ming and Qing dynasties, its deep-water harbor made it a gateway for merchants, tea exports, and cultural exchange. In the 19th century, Xiamen became one of China’s earliest treaty ports, opening to foreign trade after the signing of Treaty of Nanjing in the First Opium War. Nowadays, it is very modern city. The beautiful skyline rises beside palm-lined boulevards, and large ships share the horizon with ferries bound for nearby islands. Both mark a new chapter of this garden city on sea.
In the 17th century, long before Xiamen became a modern port city, it was the stronghold of Zheng Chenggong, the Ming loyalist who resisted the Manchu conquest. Xiamen’s natural harbor and island setting made it a perfect marine base. From here, Zheng built a powerful naval force, controlling trade and defending the coast. In 1661, it was from Xiamen’s shores that his fleet set sail across the Taiwan Strait, launching the campaign that expelled the Dutch from Taiwan and established Chinese rule there.
Today, the central district of this city called ‘Siming’ recall Zheng Chenggong’s presence. He renamed the island’s name to “Siming”. The name, meaning “remembering the Ming Dynasty” reflected his loyalty to the fallen Ming dynasty and his opposition to the Qing conquerors. Standing by the water and staring at the powerful warships faraway, it’s easy for me to imagine the sails of his fleet catching the wind and fighting in the waves.
My trip started from the seaside promenade which stretched like a silver ribbon along the sea, with palm trees swaying gently above the turquoise waves. The salty breeze brushed against my face, carrying the faint scent of the ocean and the sound of gulls overhead. Each step felt lighter, as if the rhythm of the waves was syncing with my heartbeat.
The horizon seemed endless, and the air felt so fresh that every breath is a quiet celebration: cool, clean, and alive. Walking here, the bustle of the city slipped away, replaced by the soft music of the tide interwined with the simple joy of being by the sea. With each step along seaside promenade, the weight of the year’s work begins to loosen, like sand slipping through my fingers. Sunlight danced on the water, and I felt as though the tide is quietly washing my mind clean. By the time I reached the curve of the bay, the fatigue of whole year has dissolved into the horizon, leaving only a lightness.
Although it was December, the temperature on noon could reach 23 Celsius. I walked on the wide, sun-warmed sand of Huangcuo Beach and touched the coldness of sea water with my bare feet. The wave hit me like soft applause, greeting me with their gentle rhythm, as if reminding me to slow down. Out on the horizon, the sky melted into the sea. I let the breeze wrap around me, cool and salt sweet.
Huangcuo Beach is more than just a stretch of golden sand—it’s a stage for quiet romance. At sunset, the sky blushes over the sea, and the soft hiss of the waves becomes a gentle backdrop for whispered promises. Here, couples stroll hand in hand, leaving footprints side by side, some pausing to write Marry me in the sand or to embrace beneath a sky turning gold and rose. The openness of the sea seems to bless each moment, carrying it far beyond the horizon.
The main seaside promenade in Xiamen is along Huandao Road, which circles much of Xiamen Island’s coastline. I walked along the section that was most popular with walkers and cyclists. The section in the south of island, stretching from Xiamen University through Hulishan to Xiang’an Bridge is about 20 km long. The most iconic building on the way must be the Xiamen Twin Towers. Their glass façades curving like giant sails catching the sea breeze. This skyline creates a striking contrast. The calm rhythm of waves in the foreground, and the confident silhouette of a modern city just beyond. Walking here, I felt Xiamen’s unique blend of ‘la isla bonita’ and a metropolis.
There are not so many historical buildings in Xiamen. Hulishan Fort is one living reminder of the city’s history. It was on the seaside promenade. Built in 1894 during the Qing Dynasty, the fort was designed to guard against foreign naval threats and overlooks the Taiwan Strait from a commanding seaside cliff. Its thick granite and red-brick walls enclose military tunnels and a watchtower. They are still intact and high although eroded by wind and rains of hundred years.
The main attraction is the world’s largest surviving 19th-century coastal cannon, a German-made Krupp cannon stretching over 13 meters long. Its dark iron barrel stretches toward the Taiwan Strait, a silent giant that once promised both power and protection. Standing before it, I could feel the tension of history, the urgency of Qing dynasty arming itself against foreign fleets. Krupp was a leading German industrial and steel company in the 19th–20th century, renowned for heavy artillery. Qing Dynasty purchased many cannons from this company in the history.
Another site marking the history of Xiamen is Zengcuoan. Once a quiet fishing village, it is now Xiamen’s lively “sea-side snack town,” where every narrow lane is scented with something tempting. Under strings of warm lights, stalls sizzle with local flavors. Vendors call out cheerfully, offering skewers of grilled squid, cups of mango shaved ice, and steaming bowls of satay noodles. In Zengcuoan, eating is the heart of the experience, a delicious stroll through Xiamen’s coastal soul.
There are many snacks here, but few delights could be compared to biting into a steaming crab roe soup bao. The thin, delicate wrapper trembles as I lifted it from the bamboo steamer. With one careful sip, the rich broth bursts forth. The taste is sweet and briny, infused with the essence of fresh crab and a hint of ginger. Then comes the filling itself and leaves a lingering savoriness that feels both indulgent and comforting. With a dash of vinegar and a hint of ginger, the flavor feels lighter and less greasy.
In the afternoon, after I finished the stroll along the seaside promenade, I visited the South Putuo Temple which is one of the most celebrated Buddhist temples in Fujian Province, located at the southern foot of Wulao Peak. With its back to the mountains and facing the sea, the temple enjoys a harmonious natural setting that has made it both a spiritual sanctuary and a major cultural landmark.
The temple’s history dates back to the Tang dynasty, but it gained its present name during the Ming dynasty, when it became associated with Guanyin （the Bodhisattva of Compassion）. Since then, South Putuo temple has been regarded as the southern counterpart of Putuo mountain, one of the four sacred Buddhist mountains of China. The temple complex covers a large area and is built in a traditional symmetrical layout, with halls aligned along the central axis.
This is the entrance hall, Heavenly King Hall guarded by the Four Heavenly Kings and Maitreya Buddha. Because South Putuo is one of the most important Buddhist temples in southern China, people believe that incense offerings here carry special merit and spiritual power. I came here to burn incense on the last day of the year, seeking blessings for the upcoming New Year. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze. The air was thick with the fragrance of sandalwood incense, mingling with the faint sound of chanting monks inside the grand halls.
In the temple, there is a canteen selling local food. I ordered one bowl of Shacha noodles, one of the most iconic street foods of Xiamen. At first glance, the dish looks simple: yellow wheat noodles served in a steaming bowl of broth. But the soul of Shacha noodles lies in the shacha sauce — a deep, rich paste made from soybean oil, garlic, shallots, chilies, and especially dried seafood like shrimp. This sauce, with its smoky, slightly spicy, umami-packed taste, gives the dish its unforgettable character. The sip of broth is savory and aromatic, carrying the warmth of spices and the depth of seafood.
Jimei School Village, located on the northern side of Xiamen Island is a landmark of education, culture, and history founded by the famous overseas Chinese philanthropist Tan Kah Kee in the early 20th century. He established Jimei Primary School first, and over the years expanded it into a full educational complex that included middle schools, vocational schools, and eventually colleges. Today, it has grown into a network of institutions with a reputation that extends across China and overseas.
The campus architecture is one of its most striking features. Buildings here combine magnificent Western-style structures with traditional Southern Fujian architectural elements with red brick walls, swallowtail eaves, decorative tiles, and stone carvings. This unique blend creates a setting that is both scholarly and culturally distinctive, often described as “the Tan Kah Kee style.” I was sitting beside a large, scenic pool where dragon boat races are held during traditional festivals and enjoyed the tranquil environment which brought me back to the memory of my university life.
A museum and a park are dedicated to Tan Kah Kee’s life and contributions, filled with historical documents, photographs, and personal belongings. Tan Kah Kee was a legendary overseas Chinese entrepreneur and educator. Born in Jimei, he migrated to Singapore as a teenager to help with his father’s business. Believing education was the foundation of national strength, he established Xiamen University, the first university in China founded entirely by overseas Chinese funds. He played a decisive role in founding Nanyang University, the first Chinese-language university outside of China, which later became part of Nanyang Technological University.
The turtle Garden includes garden and cemetery where Tan Kah Kee himself is buried, facing the sea. It is filled with stone carvings and sculptures that narrate episodes of history and culture. Now people still memorize how he poured his fortune into education for the Chinese community both at home and abroad after visiting this place.
The Nanyang-style architectures here left me a deep impression. It combines red brick and swallowtail roof ridges of Minnan houses with arched windows, colonnades, and verandas from Western colonial architecture. Roman columns, and Gothic-style arches are used as well, creating a cultural mix. When I visited Xiamen, I always felt that I seemed to visit Singapore. These school buildings and their styles reminded strongly of The Chinese High School in Singapore. There’s a real sense of déjà vu.
Outside of the Jimei school village, it is the Ten Miles Long Causeway which is one of the most romantic places in Xiamen as the sun dips low over the horizon. It connects the island to mainland China. High speed train and metro tram pass over the bridges over the long causeway. I arrived at this place nearly at 6 pm and this was my last travel destination in this city.
Stretching gracefully between the sea and the sky, the causeway was bathed in golden light, its stone path glowing softly under the warmth of dusk. On one side, the water shimmered with the reflection of the fading sun, rippling like liquid fire; on the other, the distant skyline slowly melted into silhouettes against the pastel sky. Couples strolled hand in hand along the path, and the evening breeze carried the scent of the ocean and the gentle waves lapped against the shore. As twilight deepened, the sky turned to orange, painting a canvas that seems endless above the causeway.
Xiamen was my last stop of travel in Fujian. As I lingered by the shore for another time, the waves rolled in gently, carrying away the noise of my thoughts, returning only a calm that feels rare in the rush of everyday life. Xiamen’s seaside doesn’t overwhelm like Cote D’Azur, but it soothes my soul. Sitting by the water, I felt my worries dissolve, replaced by the simple joy of watching the horizon blur between sea and sky. Perhaps that is the true gift of this city: a quiet reminder that peace in my heart can be found not in grand monuments, but in the gentle embrace of the ocean.
Known as the starting point of the Maritime Silk Road, Quanzhou was one of the world’s busiest ports during the Song and Yuan dynasties. Even one thousand years ago, it is a multi-cultural city. Nowadays, Quanzhou’s streets echo with this unique cultural symphony. Within a few kilometers, traveler can find Buddhist temples, Taoist shrines, churches, and mosques. Due to its pivotal role as a maritime hub and a melting pot of global cultures, Quanzhou is often called “the Museum of World Religions. It was inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2021.
Quanzhou was the third stop of my Christmas 2024 journey through Fujian Province, following visits to Fuzhou and Wuyi Mountain. I spent two days exploring this historic city. My trip started from the Chaotian Gate in the south of city. Built during the Song dynasty, when Quanzhou was a flourishing maritime hub, this gate was once the primary entrance, through which envoys, merchants, and travelers passed, their ships anchored nearby in the busy harbor. The name “Chaotian,” meaning “Facing Heaven,” reflects its ceremonial role: it was traditionally used to greet imperial envoys and conduct ritual offerings to heaven and the sea. When I stood before Chaotian Gate, I easily imagined the scene centuries ago—caravans unloading goods, sails fluttering in the breeze, and languages from across Asia and the Middle East echoing through the air.
In the heart of Quanzhou’s old town center, I visited many ancient buildings. The white Clock Tower located on West Street is a distinctive and modern-looked structure built in 1934. Unlike the traditional ancient architecture around it, this tower showcases early 20th-century architectural design. The tower stands at 13.8 meters tall and is constructed from reinforced concrete. At the top of the tower, there are four round clocks, one on each side, allowing the time to be visible from multiple directions along the street. It is not only a building, but more like a time observer, silently witnessing the changing and flowing rhythm of the ancient city.
South of the Bell Tower on West Street, the street is lined with traditional Minnan (Southern Fujian) style buildings that beautifully blend regional craftsmanship with colonial-era influences, creating a unique streetscape. The buildings are predominantly two-level shop houses, raised on large white pillars that support the upper floors. These sturdy posts not only provide structural strength but also create a shaded arcade at street level, perfect for pedestrians and operations of small shops.
The walls feature red brick-lined windows and facades, a hallmark of Minnan architecture that brings warmth and texture to the buildings. The windows are framed with decorative wooden shutters or latticework, echoing the intricate patterns found in both Minnan and Southeast Asian architecture. The style closely resembles the Singaporean shop houses found in historic districts like Chinatown. This similarity highlights historical maritime trade connections and cultural exchanges between Fujian and Southeast Asia.
West Street is one of Quanzhou’s oldest and most charming thoroughfares. Here I wandered through a lively blend of tradition and experienced the dynamic energy of daily life. Lined with centuries-old shops, tea houses, and local eateries, the street buzzed softly with the mingling scents of fresh pastries and brewed tea. The ancient architecture here, a harmonious mix of southern Fujian style, reflected the city’s rich heritage. As I strolled along West Street, my eyes were naturally drawn to the skyline where two majestic towers rise side by side — the Kaiyuan Temple’s Twin Pagodas. These slender, towering structures, standing tall against the backdrop of blue sky, are iconic symbols of Quanzhou’s cultural and religious history. Their delicate brickwork and multi-tiered eaves cast graceful shadows over the surrounding streets, making the area solemn and poetic.
Kaiyuan Temple stands as one of the largest and most significant Buddhist temples in Fujian Province. Founded during the Tang Dynasty in 686 AD, it has witnessed over a millennium of spiritual devotion. Stepping into Kaiyuan Temple, I was embraced by an atmosphere of calm and reverence. The gentle scent of incense mingled with the soft chanting of prayers, creating a timeless space for reflection. Surrounding the temple, ancient stone lions and inscribed steles spoke of a rich history interwoven with the city’s vibrant maritime past.
The Main Hall, or Daxiong Baodian is the majestic centerpiece of Kaiyuan Temple and the focal point for worshipers. Inside, the hall houses the gold statue of Sakyamuni Buddha, the historical Buddha, seated serenely in the center. Surrounding the main statue are smaller figures of bodhisattvas and guardian deities, all carved or sculpted with delicate detail. The hall’s interior exudes a mystery aura, enhanced by soft natural light filtering through lattice windows, and the faint aroma of incense that lingers in the air.
Painted on an interior wall of the temple, this mural of Qilin is a rare and vibrant example of traditional religious art that has withstood the passage of centuries. The Qilin, often regarded as a benevolent and auspicious beast, is a composite creature with the body of a deer or horse, the scales of a dragon or fish, and a mane of fire. It symbolizes peace, virtue, and the arrival of a sage or enlightened ruler. What makes this mural especially striking is its brilliant use of color—tones of turquoise, cinnabar red, gold, and indigo still glimmer faintly despite age.
The Twin Pagodas of Kaiyuan Temple are the most iconic landmark of Quanzhou. Each pagoda stands over 40 meters tall, built during the Song Dynasty in the 13th century, replacing earlier wooden versions that were destroyed by fire. Crafted entirely of granite, the towers demonstrate remarkable engineering and aesthetic refinement. Delicate stone carvings of Buddhas, celestial beings, lotus patterns, and mythical creatures adorn the surfaces of both towers. Despite centuries of wind and rain, these details remain remarkably well preserved.
Beyond the grand halls and towering pagodas, there was a quieter world—a cluster of old temple buildings hidden in the greenery. Their weathered walls and wooden eaves were telling silent stories of centuries past. These structures, modest in scale but rich in character, were once home to monks and temple workers. Their moss-covered tiles, stone thresholds, and delicate wooden lattice windows reflect the elegance of traditional southern Fujian architecture. Time has softened the edges of these buildings: faded red doors, flaking paint, and ancient stone steps worn smooth by generations of footsteps. All are the silent testimony of vicissitude of life.
As I wandered through the old quarter of old Quanzhou, I came across charming two-story houses that seemed to capture the spirit of the city in a single glance. These buildings, made of brick, feature a unique blend of southern Fujian architecture, simple but full of taste of life. The first floor serves as a shop or family living space, its entrance marked by bright red lanterns hanging on the doorway. Above, the second-floor balcony burst into color. Clay pots and wooden planters overflow with blooming flowers—hibiscus, bougainvillea, orchids—cascading over the railings. At the top, a flat rooftop platform serves as an open-air terrace. Locals might use it to dry tea leaves or gather in the evening for conversation. This kind of life rhythm is neither fast nor slow, just like the temperament of Quanzhou city – leisurely, calm, showing the real way of local life.
In the Licheng District, there are many historical sites listed as UNESCO World Heritage Element which is a memory of the history. The site of Southern Clan Office is the official office overseeing Southern‑residing Song dynasty imperial clans based in Quanzhou. Established in the early 12th century, the office managed some 349 members of the imperial Zhao family who fled south during the Jin invasion. Now in the courtyard, stone steles and a sculpted statue stand as silent testaments to the site’s once majestic presence.
There is a small exhibition hall showcasing rich samples of excavated artifacts, 3D interpretive maps, and multimedia reconstructions. Beautiful vases and delicate lotus‑petal pattern bricks, and majestic looking beast‑face ridge tiles from the Song dynasty are displayed here. A large variety of ceramics with inscriptions such as “赵” on pottery bases, link them directly to the imperial clan. These findings strongly affirm the site’s status as a high‑level official administrative complex tied to both the imperial clan and maritime trade governance mechanisms of the Southern Song state.
It is an unknown archaeological site layered with quiet history. Its admission is free, and it has very few visitors, making it a peaceful stop for history enthusiasts. Here I had deeper understanding of how state institutions functioned during the Maritime Silk Road era, and how imperial families adapted to life far from the capital. Every stele and every piece of pottery bears a true trace of their lives during those turbulent times. This small site, although not renowned for its grandeur, quietly reveals a distant and complex history.
The Site of the Maritime Trade Office is another UNESCO heritage site. It was once the powerful nerve center of China’s official overseas trade during the Song and Yuan dynasties. This was no ordinary government office. It was China’s window to the maritime world, a place where Arab, Persian, Indian, and Southeast Asian merchants registered their ships, paid customs duties, exchanged goods, and interacted with Chinese officials. It witnessed the prosperity of Quanzhou as the “largest port in the East” and also embodied the integration of diverse civilizations on the Maritime Silk Road. Nowadays there are only some remaining excavated stone walls, water channels, and drainage systems.
Far away from the bustle of West Street, the Confucian Temple lie serenely in one corner. Acting as a civilization sanctuary, it is the city’s historical center of learning, moral cultivation, and scholarly reverence. Built originally during the Tang Dynasty and expanded in the Song and Ming periods, this temple is one of the oldest and best-preserved Confucian temples in Fujian Province. More than a religious space, the Quanzhou Confucian Temple in the history served as an educational and civic institution, where Confucian teachings guided the governance and values of society.
At the heart of the temple stands the Dacheng Hall, dedicated to Confucius, with statues and tablets honoring the great sage and his disciples. The hall is built in traditional southern Chinese style, with upturned eaves, carved beams, and tranquil courtyards. The courtyard is shaded by ancient pagoda trees which are symbols of scholarly virtue and integrity. These trees are often linked with success in the imperial examination system.
Walking through the Quanzhou Confucian Temple feels like stepping into a realm of quiet reverence. The symmetry of the architecture and the echo of footsteps in stone courtyards evoked a scholarly world of centuries past. In the center of Dacheng Hall, the solemn figure is the statue of Confucius. Carved with a calm, dignified expression, Confucius is depicted in traditional scholar’s robes, his hands gently clasped in front of his chest in the posture of respect and self-discipline. In the center upper plaque, the phrase 万世师表” means “The Eternal Model Teacher for All Time”. It reflects the deep respect and reverence that generations of Chinese people—especially scholars and officials—have held for Confucius.
The Chinese phrase “半城烟火半城仙” is a modern poetic description of Quanzhou, capturing its unique charm as a city where earthly life and spiritual heritage coexist in harmony. It means ‘Half a city of worldly bustle, half a city of sacred calm.’ As a major port in the Song-Yuan era, it was a global city, home to people of many religions, cultures, and trades. I walked through one historical street with centuries-old Buddhist pagoda, elegant mosque and shrine shrouded of incense smoke. Beliefs are not divided by East and West, and different cultures hold respect to each other.
The Qingjing Mosque was built in 1009 AD during the Northern Song Dynasty, it is the oldest extant Islamic mosque in China and a UNESCO-listed site. Unlike the wooden halls and eaves typical of Chinese religious structures, it is constructed primarily from white and gray granite in a style reminiscent of Middle Eastern Islamic architecture. This makes it visually and culturally distinct from the Buddhist and Daoist temples in the city. It is physical evidence of early Muslim communities in China, likely Yemeni or Persian merchants who settled in Quanzhou and assimilated into the local society during the Song and Yuan dynasties.
Embedded within the Qingjing Mosque’s courtyard wall, the imperial edict of the Yongle Emperor stands as a powerful symbol of the Ming dynasty’s recognition and protection of Islam in Quanzhou. Issued in the early 15th century, the edict praises the virtue and loyalty of the Muslim community in Quanzhou and commands officials to respect and safeguard their religious practices. This not only reflects the country’s recognition of the religious rights of ethnic minorities, but also demonstrates Quanzhou’s open-mindedness in the coexistence of diverse cultures and religions.
In Quanzhou, the most crowded temple must be the The Tonghuai Guandi Temple. It does not belong to any religion and is dedicated to Guan Yu, the legendary general from the Three Kingdoms era who was both loyal and courageous. Guan Yu is worshiped not only for his military prowess but more importantly for his unwavering loyalty, righteousness, and moral integrity. This temple perfectly captures the city’s unique mix of tradition and folk belief that stretches back through centuries.
Despite the centuries that have passed, the temple is always filled with curling incense smoke and steady streams of worshipers. People come here to seek strength in times of difficulty. Business owners and families burn incense to ask for protection and prosperity. The main building like red-painted walls, intricate wooden carvings, and a series of arched roofs adorned with ceramic dragons is beautiful. But the air was heavy with the scent of incense when I traveled here and the area in front of the temple was surrounded by devotees bowing before the altar and offering sticks of incense.
I continued to move to the Tianhou temple in the south of city. In Fujian province, for centuries, Mazu who is the Goddess of the Sea, has held a place of profound spiritual and cultural importance in the lives of the local people. Generations of their families lived by and through the sea. Mazu became their guardian deity. Even overseas, Fujianese migrants carried her image across oceans, building Mazu temples in Taiwan, Southeast Asia and Singapore. The Tianhou Temple is the sacred shrine dedicated to Mazu.
The temple is part of the UNESCO World Heritage site. At the heart of the temple, the statue of Mazu sits serene and dignified, often clothed in bright embroidered robes and wearing a crown of pearls. Flanking her are statues of her two loyal generals—Qianliyan and Shunfeng’er, said to help her see and hear everything happening across the seas. Red lanterns with many benedictory words line the eaves. Intricate stone carvings of dragons, phoenixes, and waves decorate the roof and doorways, evoking the temple’s connection to the ocean.
In just one day, I visited numerous temples, each representing a distinct religious tradition. Next, I arrived at the Chengtian Temple which is a quiet and historically rich Buddhist sanctuary. Unlike larger and crowded temples full of tourists, Chengtian Temple is tranquil and calm. Though it may not draw tourists in large numbers, Chengtian Temple remains a living temple, still functioning with monks, prayers, and rituals.
First built in the Song Dynasty, Chengtian Temple has undergone numerous reconstructions across the Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties. The name “Chengtian” (承天) literally means “receiving the mandate of Heaven” . As part of the UNESCO-listed heritage landscape, it shows how different religions coexisted peacefully in ancient Quanzhou. For the temple, there is nothing special but simple. The elegant layout follows traditional Chinese symmetry, with moss covered tiled roofs, historical wooden beams, and peaceful open courtyards. There is a small pagoda on top of the roof. It represents a connection between the earthly world and the spiritual realm and marks the temple as a sacred space where the divine and human meet.
The UNESCO World Heritage site “Quanzhou: Emporium of the World in Song-Yuan China” includes a total of 22 component sites like Kaiyuan Temple, Qingjing Mosque, and Tianhou Temple. Luoyang Bridge is one of them as well. Built during the Northern Song Dynasty, Luoyang Bridge is renowned for being the first stone bridge in China built over tidal waters. It was constructed using raft foundations and oyster reef technology. Workers placed oysters at the base of stone piers to bind the underwater structures together. This ecological method made the foundation resilient to tides, erosion, and currents.
When I walked across the bridge over 800 meters long, I noticed rows of stone piers standing steadily in the river. I could imagine its history of connecting the bustling port city with inland roads, facilitating the movement of goods, people, and ideas during the height of the Maritime Silk Road.
I stayed in Quanzhou for two days. My first day concentrated on the humanity heritages like old streets in the old city and my second day was on some natural scenes. Qingyuan Mountain in the north of city is a place where visitors come to reconnect with nature. It is also a spiritual landmark, a place where nature, history, and Daoist thought merge into quiet harmony. Daoism is about understanding how the world works and becoming one with it.
The Giant Stone Statue of Laozi is the mountain’s most famous feature. It was carved in the Song Dynasty. This makes Qingyuan Mountain a nationally significant site of Daoist worship and Laozi veneration. According to local legend and Daoist belief, Qingyuan Mountain is one of the places where Laozi, the ancient philosopher and founder of Daoism once visited, meditated, and eventually transcended the mortal world to become a Daoist deity. The inscription “老子天下第一” carved in front of the Laozi statue means “Laozi is the greatest under Heaven”. In Daoist tradition, Laozi is considered the origin of all wisdom, the one who taught the Dao—the Way that governs all things.
This mountain is not only spiritually important in Daoist tradition, but also celebrated for its natural beauty. The mountain was covered in lush vegetation like ancient cypress trees lining the stone paths and a mix of evergreen and deciduous trees. I climbed from bottom to top along this road using nearly 2 hours.
The mountain was dotted with weathered granite boulders, many of them engraved with ancient and durable calligraphy. These rocks were moss-covered, shaded by ferns and wildflowers. Natural springs bubbled from the mountain’s base and flowed gently through these rocks.
On this early morning, mist rolled over the mountain ridges, creating a dreamlike effect. The view from higher altitudes offered a glimpse of the city through drifting clouds, a striking contrast between the spiritual landscape and modern life. I could roughly see the outline of West Lake faraway. This shifting mist seemed to reflect the Daoist idea of impermanence, of the seen reality and unseen future constantly transforming.
In the afternoon, before I left, I took some time to visit the West Lake which is opposite to my hotel. Though not as famous as the West Lake in Hangzhou, it is still a beautiful, tranquil urban lake park that offers a peaceful escape and is infused with layers of historical charm. It is designed in the traditional Chinese garden style with curved stone bridges over calm water, lotus-filled ponds that bloom beautifully in summer, willow trees trailing their long branches into the lake, and graceful, poetic pavilions. The lake is far away from the city center, and I enjoyed a natural quietude.
The Quanzhou Museum opposite to the beautiful West Lake provides deep insights into the city’s maritime, religious, and cultural history, particularly during its golden age as a major port on the Maritime Silk Road. There are rich, immersive exhibitions suitable for history lovers, students, and general travelers.
There are collections of rare Nestorian Christian tombstones, Arabic inscriptions, and ancient epitaphs. Many pieces were unearthed from cemeteries of foreign communities who lived in medieval Quanzhou. The porcelain exhibitions are a highlight of the Maritime Silk Road displays, showcasing the city’s central role in ceramic trade and production during the Song and Yuan dynasties. Blanc de Chine (Dehua white porcelain) is famous for its smooth, ivory-white glaze and is exported widely to Southeast Asia and Europe.
Inside, there is a large-scale model of ancient Quanzhou city, offering visitors a panoramic and immersive view of how the city looked during its golden age in the Song-Yuan period. I could clearly see the sinuous city walls, towering main gates (like Chaotian Gate), crossing streets, and the two towers of Kaiyuan Temple and immersed in its old history.
During my trip I tasted the Minnan cuisine, which is especially representative of the southern Fujian region, including cities like Quanzhou, Xiamen, and Zhangzhou. It is known for its refined techniques, fresh ingredients, delicate flavors, and a touch of sweetness. The Four Fruit Soup is a cold dessert with four toppings like transparent jelly cubes, sweetened red beans, soft lotus seeds, and crisp Nata de coco. It is lightly sweetened and topped with condensed milk, taste not so saturated.
The Oyster omelette is one of the most iconic and beloved dishes in Minnan cuisine, widely enjoyed in Quanzhou as well as in Taiwan and parts of Southeast Asia like Singapore. It is a must-try street food that perfectly captures the flavors and textures unique to the coastal Fujianese palate. It a savory dish made with fresh oysters and eggs. Sweet potato starch slurry is mixed into the egg to give the dish a chewy texture. Chopped leafy greens or scallions are added. It is pan-fried on a flat griddle until crispy on the bottom and soft on top. A key part of the dish is the sweet-sour chili sauce that’s generously spooned over the omelette after it’s cooked. It can be a satisfying snack for a seafood lover like me.
Ginger Duck is a traditional and deeply flavorful dish of Minnan cuisine. It is made of aged ginger with stronger spiciness and tender duck meat. The dish is usually simmered in a clay pot over low heat, allowing the ingredients to infuse and develop a rich, savory broth. Sesame oil is used to stir-fry the ginger and rice wine is added, both for flavor and warmth. Herbs and spices like goji berries, red dates, star anise, and angelica root are included for their traditional medicinal value. The taste is nice, a bit warming, spicy and lightly sweet.
Exploring Quanzhou has been a deeply immersive journey. It felt like stepping into a living tapestry woven from centuries of history, culture, and spiritual harmony. Wandering through its ancient streets, majetic temples, and bustling markets, I sensed the city’s heartbeat pulsing with the stories of diverse peoples who once gathered here as traders or pilgrims. Quanzhou offers me a rare glimpse into a crossroads of world cultures — where Buddhism, Islam, Christianity, and Daoism coexist peacefully; where the legacy of the Maritime Silk Road still echoes in every stone bridge and mosque; where time slows down amidst verdant mountains and tranquil lakes.
In the quiet cradle of northwest Fujian lies a sacred land called Wuyi Mountain. This UNESCO World Heritage site is like a living poem, etched in cliffs and whispered by waters, where Taoist sages, Confucian scholars, and tea masters once walked in reflection. Wuyi is not only known for its breathtaking landscapes — crimson cliffs, emerald rivers, and cloud-kissed peaks — but for its legendary rock tea and the graceful balance between culture and nature. I spent three days in this beautiful place during my Christmas trip in 2024 and caught its most splendid moment from morning to evening using my camera.
As the first rays of morning pierced the veil of winter mist, the tea fields of Wuyi Mountain began to stir. The golden sun poured its light across the terraced slopes like warm honey. It spilled over the ridges with a quiet generosity, wrapping the emerald bushes in a soft glow. Shadows retreated behind stone ridges, and the winter chill that once clung to the earth began to ease. In that moment, under the golden winter sun, the tea fields breathe again — calm, green, and alive.
By midday, the sun stood high above its jade-carved ridges, the sunlight was no longer gentle, but bright and steady — like a lantern held by heaven itself. The mist of morning has melted away, revealing the full grandeur of the mountain’s contours. Below, the Nine-Bend Stream flowed with tranquil rhythm, its surface catching fragments of sunlight like broken mirrors. The river bends reflected the sky and mountain, turning blue and green into liquid silk. At this moment, the mountains basked in the warmth cozily.
As the sun began its descent behind the distant ridge lines, Xiannü Peak caught the day’s final light. Her gentle silhouette, carved with grace and quiet dignity, stood bathed in a golden radiance, as if she herself is aglow from within. Pale rose, soft gold, and lavender hues wrapped around her like flowing robes of silk. The surrounding peaks darkened, but Xiannü Peak remained luminous and serene, like a goddess suspended between heaven and earth.
I lived in the hotel not far away from the scenic area. From the streets of Wuyi City, the mountains rose not far away, their green silhouettes etched clearly against the sky. Standing on this bridge, I could easily catch sight of the rolling ridges and majestic cliffs. The boundary between city and mountain here feels soft.
It is really a sanctuary for the weary heart, a place where every breath feels lighter, every step slower. Here, the pace of life softens naturally. Even while walking along the quiet streets, relaxation comes easily. The sky stretched wide and endlessly blue, like a silk canopy unfurled above. The green peaks stood nearby, calm and ever-present. They seemed close enough to touch, always within sight, as if the mountains were quietly keeping company with the town below. As I strolled through the city, the scene was like a living painting—crystal-clear waters meandering through town, their surfaces shimmering under the sunlight, mirroring the sky and cliffs above. The river glided slowly, and its calm flow seemed to carry away every worry.
There are four major scenic spots in Wuyi Mountain: Tianyou Mountain, The One-Line Sky, Tiger Roaring Rock, and Xiannü Peak. Visitors can go to each place by buses connecting every scenic spot. The travel infrastructure in the area is perfect. Travelers can choose any ways they want like strolling quietly along the stream, direct buses, rugged mountain paths or a romantic trip of bamboo rafts.
Hailed as the most iconic peak of Wuyi Mountain, Tianyou Mountain — meaning “Heavenly Tour Peak” — is a place where the earth seems to merge with the sky. Rising to an elevation of about 408 meters, it is known as the “First Wonderland of Wuyi” and is a must-visit for those seeking the essence of Wuyi’s beauty. The mountain is straight and steep like a very tall wall raised in front of me.
The climb to the summit winds through 888 steep stone steps, ancient pines, and dramatic cliffs. Along the way, travelers are very tired but greeted by stunning views of emerald peaks and the famous Nine-Bend Stream curling gracefully below like a jade ribbon. As I ascended higher, the morning mist thinned, the beauty of Wuyi unfolded in my eyes gradually.
At the summit, the reward is breathtaking — a panoramic view of the entire Wuyi landscape. Tea fields ripple across the hills, the transparent and clear winding stream glistens like silk, and distant ridges stand in layered blues and greens. On clear days, the sky feels close enough to touch, and the clouds drift past at eye level, creating the sensation of walking through the heavens.
The tea terraces represent centuries of craftsmanship and culture of Wuyi. Layer upon layer, the terraces ripple across the slopes like emerald waves, following the curves of the mountains. Here, the famous rock tea grows and is nourished by the mineral-rich soil and the unique mountain mist that drifts through the air. The tea bushes cling to the rugged terrain, their deep roots reaching into cracks of ancient stone. In the early morning, the terraces were veiled in soft fog. As the sun rises, its light gradually melt away the mist, revealing glistening leaves covered with tiny dew droplets, shimmering under the golden glow.
Da Hong Pao is called the “King of Rock Teas”. The name Da Hong Pao, meaning “Big Red Robe,” originates from a centuries-old legend. It is said that during the Ming Dynasty, a scholar traveling to the imperial exams fell gravely ill while passing through Wuyi Mountain. Local monks brewed him tea from a special bush growing on the cliffs. After drinking it, he recovered miraculously, went on to excel in his exams, and became a high-ranking official. In gratitude, the emperor sent great red robes to cover the bushes that had produced the miraculous tea.
In this photo, the six mother trees of Da Hong Pao preserved in the red rails are regarded as national treasures. Due to their extreme rarity and cultural value, harvesting leaves from these ancient bushes has been strictly forbidden since 2006 to preserve them for future generations.
Wuyi Mountain is laced with countless winding paths, inviting travelers to explore its hidden corners. As I wandered through its serene valleys, it wasn’t just the towering cliffs and emerald waters that drew my gaze. Scattered across moss-covered walls and carved into the rugged cliffs are hundreds of stone inscriptions—some weathered and fading with time, others still strikingly vivid. These ancient etchings feel like whispers from the past. Walking past them, I felt as though I were retracing the footsteps of explorers like Xu Xiake, following the trails they once walked.
Winter is better time to visit Wuyi. Most of the evergreen trees—such as pine and bamboo—remain lush and steadfast, their deep green needles and leaves standing firm against the cool air. They blanket the slopes and line the streams. Some maples and sweet gum trees blush with lingering shades of amber, gold, and soft crimson, their leaves fluttering lightly in the wind. The colors are not as fiery as autumn.
I was heading towards the next destination. As sunlight filtered through the thin winter clouds, the mountain glowed with a quiet radiance—green pines, yellow flowers and golden-brown leaves weave a soft, peaceful tapestry. The air is fresh, cool, and still, and every step through the mountain feels like walking through an ink-wash painting, immersing into nature.
The One-Line Sky was the second scenic spot during my visit in Wuyi. It is a narrow gorge formed by the shifting and splitting of massive rock layers over countless years. It stretches for about 100 meters between two towering stone walls that lean so closely together that, in many parts, only a sliver of sky is visible overhead. I was really scary walking through it since the narrowest sections are barely wide enough for me to pass through, with only a faint band of light high above. The passage twisted and wound, revealing unexpected turns and I paused and looked up at the sliver of blue sky above. the air feels thick and cool. With every step deeper into the gorge, there was a growing sense of suffocation due to the overwhelming closeness of the space. The echo of footsteps reverberates eerily, amplifying the isolation.
I quickened my pace, drawn forward by the unspoken desire to escape the closing grip of the rocks. As I finally emerged from the tightest stretch, the gorge widened and light flooded back in. There is an undeniable sense of being safe and free as if the wideness and warmness of world has returned to me.
Among the many peaks that grace Wuyi Mountain, Xiannü Peak — also known as Fairy Maiden Peak stands out with its graceful beauty and timeless legend. Rising quietly by the riverbanks, this peak is famed for its elegant silhouette, said to resemble a celestial maiden wrapped in flowing robes, gazing softly over the landscape like a guardian.
Local legend tells of a celestial fairy who descended from heaven to help tame the floods and protect the people of Wuyi. She fell in love with the land and chose to remain, watching over the valleys and rivers below. Her spirit, as the story goes, became forever entwined with the mountain, her compassion and beauty eternally preserved in the stone.
I took a rest basked under the warm sunlight on the riverbanks to admire her from below. From this vantage point, the Fairy Maiden appears to watch over the winding Nine-Bend Stream , her reflection is visible in the shimmering waters. This must be the most iconic scene of Wuyi. On midday, when the sun cast clear shadows on the cliffs, her figure grew more distinct, standing tall and poised against the blue sky. In this quiet space, surrounded by mountains and clear stream, I simply sat — no rush, just basking in the sunlight. It felt as though the mountain itself was sharing its timeless serenity with me.
I enjoyed spending free time on the riverbank and looked at the bamboo rafts passing by one by one. The water here is as clear as glass, flowing gently over smooth stones and pebbles that glimmer beneath the surface like hidden jewels. In the quiet bends, the stream appears almost motionless, perfectly mirroring the surrounding cliffs, forests, and blue sky above. Lean closer and I could see right to the bottom—tiny fish dart between stones, leaves drift gracefully by, and the soft sands seems to glow with light.
For every traveler, drifting on a bamboo raft along the Nine-Bend Stream is an experience not to be missed on a journey through Wuyi. As the raft gently sets off from the riverbank, the world seems to quiet. The only sounds are the soft splash of water against bamboo and the occasional call of a distant bird echoing through the valley.
My trip of bamboo raft started in the very early morning with chill. The raft itself was simple — long bamboo poles lashed together, guided by a skilled boatman who stood at the stern, using a slender pole to steer. With each push, the raft glided smoothly over the crystal-clear waters, moving as effortlessly as a cloud drifting across the sky. The boatman paused halfway, allowing me to take beautiful photos while on the raft.
The scenery unfolded slowly, like a painting in motion. On both sides, towering cliffs rose steeply, their faces marked by ancient stone inscriptions and streaked with moss. Above, emerald peaks pierced the sky, some shrouded in mist, others basking in sunlight. Pine trees and bamboo groves leaned over the banks, their reflections swaying gently in the water below.
As the raft rounds each bend of the meandering stream, new vistas appeared—sometimes a narrow passage where cliffs almost touched. At that moment, I felt completely immersed in the landscape—half drifting, half dreaming. The mountain breeze brushed my face, carrying the faint scent of winter leaves. I enjoyed such a trip of around two hours. My boatman shared legends of the peaks like tales of immortals and lovers. As I glided along, there was no rush, only the soft rhythm of water and the endless unfolding of beauty.
Wuyi mountain is a perfect place for travelers to spend holidays. I enjoyed the moment when I walked alone the winding mountain path, surrounded by towering cliffs and whispering forests. The stone trail twisted ahead, empty and quiet—no voices, no footsteps, only the soft rustling of leaves and the distant murmur of water tumbling over rocks.
There were no other travelers in sight; it felt as though the entire mountain had been reserved just for me. With no one around, I unlocked my phone and switched on the music player. Soon, my favorite song filled my ears, wrapping me in its familiar melody. As the music played, every step seemed lighter, every turn in the path more magical. The rhythm of the song blended with the sounds of nature. In that moment, the whole world seemed to belong to me alone.
After ascending winding stone steps shaded by bamboo and ancient pines, I reached one ancient temple called Zhizhi An (止止庵), one of the mountain’s oldest and most secluded temples. Along the way, I could hear the sound of trickling springs and bird calls, as if leading me deeper into the mountain’s heart.
Unlike grand, ornate temples found elsewhere, Zhizhi An is modest, blending gracefully into its mountain setting. Its old stone walls are weathered and moss-covered. Built during the Song Dynasty, the temple has long been associated with Zhu Xi (朱熹), one of China’s most renowned Confucian scholars. It is said that Zhu Xi once practiced quiet meditation here, finding inspiration amid its peaceful surroundings.
When I arrived, I was greeted not by grandeur, but by quiet simplicity: a small courtyard framed by old trees and delicate pot plants, and I could smell the faint scent of incense drifting through the air. The tranquility here reminded me the name of this temple which means “Stop and Stop”—a phrase that speaks of halting both physical steps and restless thoughts. When I visited it, my travel in Wuyi would end soon and this will be my last stop of this journey in Wuyi.
Before I left, I tasted the local dishes in Wuyi Mountain. This region is close to the Jiangxi province and the food is quite spicy. The spicy bamboo shoots fried with sauerkraut is a dish that perfectly captures the bold, rustic flavors of the region. Fresh bamboo shoots, harvested from the thick groves surrounding the cliffs, are prized for their crisp texture. They are stir-fried together with local sauerkraut. The bamboo shoots soak up the rich, spicy flavors of dried chili peppers and fragrant oil, creating a satisfying contrast between crunchy, sour, and spicy. It pairs perfectly with a bowl of freshly steamed rice.
Wuyi Smoked Duck is one of the region’s most iconic dishes, known for its rich, smoky fragrance and tender meat. Every visitor should try it. The duck is first marinated with local spices and salt, then slowly smoked over a fire fueled by tea leaves, pinewood, and camphor branches—a method unique to the Wuyi region. The result is a beautifully bronzed duck with crisp skin and juicy, flavorful meat, infused with a subtle hint of tea and mountain herbs. It’s a dish that perfectly embodies Wuyi’s culinary style.
As a solo traveler, I found a rare kind of freedom here. Whether wandering the secluded mountain trails with only the sound of my footsteps or simply sitting by the river, letting the winter sun warm my face, I felt completely at ease. In Wuyi, there is no need to chase sights or rush between attractions. The beauty here is best savored slowly, like a fine cup of rock tea—letting the flavors unfold naturally, each moment revealing something new. For me, the best journeys are the ones where I can travel in my favorite rhythm and experience with my heart!
Taiyuan, the capital of Shanxi Province in northern China, is a city with a rich history, stretching back over 2,500 years. As a vital political, economic, and military hub, Taiyuan has played a crucial role in the defense of northern China throughout history. Known as “Dragon City,” it was a strategic stronghold during many dynasties, guarding the northern borders and serving as a key trading center due to its strategic position along the Fen River.
Historically, Taiyuan has been an essential city for both defense and industry. Its location—surrounded by mountains with access to fertile plains—made it ideal for military fortifications and agriculture. During the Tang Dynasty, Taiyuan was the birthplace of the dynasty’s founder, Emperor Li Yuan, and thus held immense symbolic importance as the “cradle” of the Tang. This the bronze statue of Emperor Li Shimin, also known as Emperor Taizong of the Tang Dynasty, accompanied by several of his loyal generals like Yuchi Gong who served as Li Shimin’s personal guard and became a legendary figure in Chinese folklore, sometimes represented as a door god in Chinese culture. Li Shimin, renowned for his military prowess and strategic brilliance, was instrumental in establishing and expanding the Tang Dynasty, which became one of China’s most prosperous and influential dynasties.
Taiyuan is a fascinating blend of the ancient and the modern. I visited it during my summer trip in July 2023. Nearly all the buildings in this city looked very modern. However, tourists can still explore some historical relics, such as the Jinci Temple and Twin Pagoda Temple, which offer a glimpse into its past, while the city’s industrial areas and modern infrastructure reflect its ongoing role in China’s development.
The Jinci Park is a renowned cultural and historical attraction located in the outskirts of Taiyuan. It is centered around the Jinci Temple, an ancient complex that dates back more than 1,400 years, but the park extends beyond the temple itself, encompassing a vast area of beautiful gardens, historic structures, and natural landscapes. The place with large history meaning is quite meaningful for Chinese history fans. I visited it from the southern part of the park.
TheTemple of Duke Wen of Jin was located here. Duke Wen of Jin was a prominent ruler of the Jin State during the Spring and Autumn Period. It was a chaotic period, and China has not become un unified country. There were many small states, and Jing was one of the powerful states. Duke Wen’s life was marked by adversity. After a prolonged exile caused by internal political struggles, he eventually returned to the Jin State and reclaimed his throne with the support of loyal allies. Under his leadership, Jin became a dominant power. His victory in the Battle of Chengpu （632 BCE） against the State of Chu solidified his position, earning him widespread respect as one of the five most powerful king during the Spring and Autumn Period.
The temple reflects a combination of ancient Chinese architectural traditions. While its original construction dates back many centuries, the current structures have undergone restorations during later dynasties, including the Ming and Qing dynasty. The temple’s design embodies classical Chinese aesthetics, with wooden halls, intricately carved beams, and tiled roofs. Within the temple, visitors can find stone tablets and inscriptions that recount the life and achievements of Duke Wen. These texts provide invaluable insights into the political and military strategies that defined his reign.
Xia Sheng Si also known as the Temple of the Earthly Birth, is a lesser-known site. This temple is unique in its dedication, focusing on the spiritual connection between the divine and the mortal realm, particularly in relation to the Earthly Mother or local deities believed to oversee human life and nature. In ancient Chinese beliefs, temples like Xia Sheng Si are often built to honor deities responsible for fertility and agriculture. The two stone lions at the gate are a common feature in Chinese architecture and are iconic symbols of protection. When I passed by, I touched them for good luck, as they were believed to bring blessings and ward off misfortune.
The central hall of Xia Sheng Si contains statues and tablets dedicated to the Earthly Mother or local guardian deities. These figures are typically depicted as benevolent protectors of the land and people. While Jinci Temple primarily honors the Holy Mother of the Jin State, Xia Sheng Si complements this by focusing on the nurturing aspects of nature and its direct influence on human life.
The Bell Tower in Xia Sheng Si exemplifies traditional Chinese architecture, featuring multi-tiered, wooden structure with upturned eaves. It is a high platform, elevating the bell to a prominent position where its sound can travel across the temple grounds. This kind of architecture can be seen in every Chinese temple.
Beyond its historical structures, the Jinci Park is known for its lush gardens, tranquil ponds, and shaded pathways. The centerpiece of the garden is a large, calm lake reflecting the surrounding trees, pavilions, and blue sky. The lake called nine dragons is fed by the Spring of the Immortals, a natural spring that has flowed continuously for centuries. The crystal-clear water symbolizes purity and life, an important theme in traditional Chinese gardens. Willows line the lake’s edge, their long branches gracefully dipping into the water, creating a poetic and serene scene.
The garden is filled with ancient cypress and pine trees, some of which are over a thousand years old, providing shade and adding to the historical ambiance.
园内古柏古松遍布，有的树龄逾千年，遮阴蔽日，更增添了历史气息。
Lake of nine dragons
Scattered throughout the garden are elegant pavilions and gazebos, offering places for visitors to rest and take in the scenic views. Winding stone pathways lead visitors through the garden, encouraging a leisurely pace to fully appreciate its beauty. Artificial rockeries, a staple of Chinese garden design, add texture and depth to the landscape. These rocks, carefully arranged, mimic the appearance of natural mountain formations and symbolize stability and endurance.
The Tang Garden is a beautifully divided landscaped area inspired maybe by the sophisticated garden styles of the Tang Dynasty. The Tang-inspired pavilions within the garden are characterized by their intricate wooden carvings and upturned eaves. Rockeries, bamboo groves, and flowering plants are frequently used in this garden.
The Tang Dynasty is often regarded as a golden age of Chinese culture. The garden includes a serene pond and small stone bridges and steppingstones cross the pond, invites visitors to pause and enjoy the tranquil scenery from different vantage points. Walking along the garden’s stone paths, I could admire the lotus flowers up close, hear the gentle rustle of leaves, and watch koi fish weaving through the submerged stems. The large, emerald-green leaves float gracefully on the surface. Despite growing in muddy water, the lotus emerges clean and beautiful, symbolizing the ability to remain untainted by worldly impurities. So, lotus is revered in Chinese culture and often associated with purity and many poems drew inspiration from lotus flowers.
Lingyun Ge is a towering structure that offers panoramic views of the surrounding landscape. is a multi-tiered wooden pavilion with an imposing yet graceful presence. Its name, “Soaring Clouds,” suggests its lofty position and the feeling of elevation one experiences when climbing it. The structure features intricately carved beams, colorful murals, and decorative eaves, showcasing the craftsmanship of traditional Chinese architecture. It was historically used as a place for scholars, monks, and visitors to draw inspiration from nature and create poetry here.
In ancient Chinese garden, travelers can always see this kind of loft building with a tunnel at the ground level, which allows for pedestrian passage beneath the structure. It is a two-story brick loft, constructed using traditional Chinese masonry techniques. The upper floors feature small, lattice windows and ornamental brickwork. Positioned along a main pathway, it acts as a transition point, guiding visitors to the main gate of Jingci temple.
In front of the main gate of Jingci Temple, there is an array of bridges constructed from gray or white stone, with elegantly carved balustrades and decorative patterns. The intricate carvings of auspicious symbols, such as dragons and phoenixes are believed to bring good fortune and spiritual protection. The bridges are positioned directly in front of the temple’s main gate, creating a sense of grandeur and symmetry. The similar design can be seen in the Tiananmen square.
The Jinci temple origins date back to the Western Zhou Dynasty (11th century BCE – 771 BCE), although much of its current structure reflects later periods, including the Northern Wei, Tang, Song, and Ming Dynasties. Originally built to honor Shuyu which is the founding ruler of the ancient Jin State, Jinci served as a shrine dedicated to the Holy Mother of Jin later. This is the main hall of this temple. It is one of the few surviving Song Dynasty wooden structures in China, making it an invaluable resource for studying ancient Chinese architecture and construction techniques.
The dragon carvings on the columns of the Hall are extraordinary examples of Song Dynasty artistry. The dragons are carved in high relief, giving them a three-dimensional, lifelike appearance. Each dragon appears to be in motion, coiling around the columns with an energetic sense of power. Their claws, depicted with sharp, grasping talons, clutch at the columns. The dragons’ faces are particularly expressive, with fierce eyes, flaring nostrils, and open mouths revealing sharp teeth and long, curling tongues.
The placement of the dragon carvings on multiple columns creates a sense of balance and harmony within the hall. In Chinese mythology, dragons are believed to control rivers and rain. Their carvings in the Hall of the Holy Mother highlight the temple’s connection to water, particularly the nearby Spring of the Immortals, which nourishes the complex.
Inside the hall stands a life-sized clay statue of the Holy Mother, honored as a protective deity and matron of the ancient Jin State. The statue is made of painted clay, a medium that allowed for fine detailing and vibrant coloration. Her robes are elaborately adorned with flowing patterns and textures, reflecting the high status of her divine role. These sculptures made in Song Dynasty are celebrated for their lifelike appearance and intricate details.
Flanking the Holy Mother are 42 life-sized attendant statues, each with a distinct role and character. These attendants include officials, warriors, and maidens. The statues are renowned for their realism, a hallmark of Song Dynasty sculpture. The artists paid meticulous attention to facial expressions, body proportions, and the texture of garments. Though the colors have faded over time, traces of red, gold, blue, and green paint still remain. The intricate designs on the robes and accessories demonstrate the high level of Chinese craftsmanship one thousand years ago.
Jinci Temple is famous for three wonders: Maid Statues in the Hall of the Holy Mother, The Spring of the Immortals, and the Twin Cypress Trees. They are the unique cultural treasure. In this picture, one of the two ancient cypress trees stand near the Hall of the Holy Mother. It is estimated to be over 3,000 years old, making them some of the oldest trees in China. Now both trees are so old that they need a metallic pole to support them. These trees are seen as symbols of eternal life. They have survived countless historical events, embodying the resilience of Chinese civilization.
This is the pavilion of the famous Spring of the Immortals. It is a natural spring that has been continuously flowing for over a thousand years. Its name suggests that drinking its water can bring longevity. The water is clear, cool, and pure, feeding the surrounding ponds and streams within the temple complex during thousands of years.
The stone bridge that spans the central fishpond in front of the Hall of the Holy Mother is called Yuzhao Feiliang in Chinese which means Flying Bridge Over the Fishpond. It is named “Flying Bridge” because of its innovative design: the bridge is supported by piers and extends out in a cross-shape, connecting the four cardinal directions. This gives the impression of the bridge “flying” over the water. It is an outstanding example of Song Dynasty engineering. The innovative cross-shaped layout is rare in traditional Chinese architecture.
Apart from the three wonders, I visited other notable ancient architectures. The Water Mirror Terrace is an elevated stone platform for performing operas. It is now an important venue for activities during the Jinci Temple Fair. There is a plaque on the front and side with the four characters “Three Jin Famous Springs”. The west side (back) is a stage with a single-eaved curved roof. The east side is a double-eaved hip roof from the Ming Dynasty. There are eight water tanks under the stage. Every two of them are buckled together to form four groups of “large speakers”, which is a way for the ancients to increase the volume when performing.
In this picture the Golden Figures Terrace is a stone terrace and an intriguing and historically significant feature. Its name derives from the presence of metal statues on the terrace. These figures were cast in bronze or covered in gold leaf in the Song Dynasty. Some historical experts suggest that the statues may have commemorated notable military figures or ancestors of the Jin State, emphasizing the importance of loyalty and heritage in Chinese culture.
This kind of archway is an important feature in Chinese architecture. The Duiyue Archway is constructed in the traditional Chinese memorial archway style with stone as its primary material. The archway is richly decorated with carved reliefs, including motifs of dragons, clouds, and lotus flowers. The calligraphy on the plague attributed to skilled artists of the Ming Dynasty. The archway is carefully positioned to align with the temple’s main axis. The term duiyue conveys a sense of offering deep respect, particularly toancestral spirits. In Chinese, “Dui” means to repay; “Yue” means to promote. The two words combined together mean “repaying and promoting the merits of ancestors”
The main character of the temple Tang Shuyu was the younger son of King Wu of Zhou. According to historical accounts, he was granted the land of Tang (modern-day Shanxi) as a fiefdom for his loyalty and contributions to the Zhou court. He was credited with establishing the State of Jin, which later became a powerful force in northern China. The shrine and even the whole Jingci temple was built to honor Tang Shuyu. It has been a site of ancestral worship and ritual offerings for centuries.
I traveled in this place for a whole afternoon. The old temple and towers of Jinci were enveloped by profuse greenery of pine and cypress trees. The gentle rustle of leaves, the soft chirping of birds, and the sound of flowing water created a meditative atmosphere. The enchanting environment here was really attractive for me, reminiscent of Jiangnan’s poetic charm.
Tai Yuan is modern city and there are not so many ancient architectures in the city center which appears a bit boring. This is the landscape of the Fen River, known as the “Mother River of Shanxi”. It is the second-largest tributary of the Yellow River and holds immense historical, cultural, and economic significance for the region. Flowing through Taiyuan, the river traverses the city from north to south, creating a scenic corridor. There are many high rising apartments along the riverbank, marking the quick progress of modernism of cities in China.
In the evening, when the darkness has fallen, I visited the Bell tower pedestrian street. It was extremely crowded. It was designed to reflect Taiyuan’s historical charm, with buildings showcasing traditional Chinese architectural elements such as upturned eaves and red lanterns. Numerous restaurants and food stalls lined the street, serving a mix of traditional Shanxi dishes.
Enjoying delicious local food is always important for travelers. Shanxi cuisine is famous for noodles. Kaolaolao is a signature dish of Shanxi Cuisine. It is a type of steamed noodle roll, made by rolling thin strips of dough of oat flour into spirals or small hollow cylinders. Once steamed, the Kaolaolao has a soft, chewy texture. It is served together with minced garlic, aged vinegar, and spicy oil.
Shanxi cuisine is also renowned for its rich flavors and unique use of aged vinegar. The combination of tender beef of original taste and aromatic aged vinegar creates a balance of savory and tangy flavors that exemplifies the culinary art of the region. Made from sorghum, barley, and peas, the vinegar undergoes a lengthy aging process, often for several years, which gives it its distinct flavor profile—rich, mellow, and slightly sweet with a tangy kick. Travelers must try it when traveling in Shanxi province.
This was the Bell Tower on this street which was initially constructed during the Ming Dynasty. It is a multi-tiered wooden structure built on a solid stone foundation. Its design follows the traditional Chinese architectural style. The roof is covered with green-glazed tiles, and the tower is adorned with red pillars and ornamental brackets, giving it an imposing appearance. It acts as a hub for community activities and many people assemble in this area at night.
Tai Yuan was only a transit stop of my trip in Shanxi province, and I stayed for one day in this city. Before I left, I visited the Yongzuo Temple, which is one of Taiyuan’s most iconic historical sites. Located southeast of the city, this temple is famed for its two towering pagodas that stand as a testament to the architectural and cultural achievements of the Ming Dynasty.
The temple was originally built during the reign of Emperor Wanli in the late Ming Dynasty. It was named Yongzuo Temple, symbolizing the emperor’s hope for eternal peace and prosperity. Over the centuries, the temple has served as a center for Buddhist worship and cultural activities.
The Twin Pagodas, built entirely of bricks and standing approximately 54 meters tall, are octagonal in shape and have 13 stories each. Both pagodas exhibit classic Chinese architecture, characterized by their elegant proportions, intricate brick carvings, and flying eaves. The pagodas were originally constructed to house Buddhist scriptures and as a way to bring blessings to the land. They symbolize the balance of duality in Buddhism and are seen as guardians of the temple.
The towers narrow as they ascend, creating a visually pleasing silhouette on the lake of Twin Pagoda Temple Park. Although Taiyuan is an industrial city, there are many parks built in the city to create a serene environment for people to have a rest in the weekend. The park is filled with ancient cypress trees, pine groves, and flower gardens. Traditional Chinese Pavilions are scattered throughout the park. In the morning, many local people come here to have a physical exercise.
This ancient city of thousands years history is a treasure of history and culture. From the grandeur of Jinci Temple, with its serene gardens and legendary springs, to the towering elegance of the Twin Pagoda Temple, every corner of Taiyuan tells a story of legacy. Although it is not a city famous of tourism, I think it is worthy to visit this city considering its pivotal role of Northern Gate in China’s history.
In the 2000 years history, Tai Yuan has always become the important town to fiercely resist the invasion from enemies like the Huns, Khitan-led Liao Dynasty, the Jin Dynasty, the Mongols, the Manchus and the Japanese in the second world war. There were many bloody combats happening here. Now the epics and heroes can only be found in the history book. May the spirit of Taiyuan’s ancient charm and heroism stay with every Chinese eternally.
Bangkok is the capital city of Thailand which a bustling metropolis but also a spiritual heartland for Buddhists. Before I traveled in this city, Bangkok is known to have numerous magnificent temples, or called “wats,” that reflect the city’s deep-rooted Buddhist heritage. The different culture of Buddhism attracted me to this country.
I visited this city on 2nd December 2023 and spent three days here. When I arrived at the city center from the Suvarnabhumi Airport, the sun has set, and evening came silently. The Grand Palace transformed into an enchanting spectacle, illuminated by a golden glow. The body of palace stood majestically against the night sky. Its intricate architecture was highlighted by the glaring lighting. The shimmering spires and rooftops, adorned with delicate carvings created a mesmerizing silhouette.
As I strolled around the perimeter, the reflections of the illuminated structures danced on the tranquil waters of nearby fountains. The surrounding gardens and temples, bathed in the gentle light, offered a serene contrast to the bustling city beyond the palace walls. Wandering through the tranquil streets at night, my eyes were always attracted by these illuminated temples and their golden spires.
The iconic skyline of Bangkok, dominated by towering skyscrapers and the Chao Phraya River, sparkled with countless lights. Viewed from any bar across the river, the sight of the famous temple Wat Arun at night is truly breathtaking. The Wat Arun, known as the Temple of Dawn, is a beacon of elegance as its spires reflected on the Chao Phraya River. The lights transform the temple adorned with colorful porcelain into a luminous masterpiece.
Khao San Road, located in the heart of Bangkok, is renowned for its vibrant nightlife. The road is lined with a variety of street bars and clubs. The atmosphere is lively and energetic, with neon lights and colorful signs creating a festive ambiance. Amidst the nightlife buzz, street food vendors set up stalls offering different kinds of Thai delicacies from pad thai and mango sticky rice to grilled skewers.
I tried Tom Yum Soup in one of the stalls of this street. It is a famous Thai soup known for its spicy, sour, and aromatic taste. The soup is usually made with a clear broth (often chicken or shrimp-based) that forms the foundation of its flavor. Lemongrass, galangal (similar to ginger but with a more peppery flavor), and kaffir lime leaves are essential aromatics. Some chili pastes are added to give the soup its characteristic spiciness. Fresh lime juice or tamarind paste provides the special sour element. The soup often includes mushrooms, tomatoes, and shrimps. I really liked spicy food so Thai cuisine suite my taste well.
My trip started from the early morning in the next day. My first place to visit was the Wat Pho which is one of the oldest and largest temples in Bangkok. It is famed for its stunning architecture, historical significance, and as the birthplace of traditional Thai massage. In the early morning, there are not so many tourists, it was quite a nice trip.
The architecture style of Wat Pho is a perfect example of traditional Thai temple architecture, characterized by intricate details and vivid colors. Thai temples often include ornate wood carvings, golden statues, ceramic tiles, and glass mosaics depicting religious motifs, mythical creatures, and floral patterns. The use of gold leaf symbolizes spiritual richness and devotion. This kind of architecture can be seen in many temples of Thailand.
Throughout Wat Pho, I could always find these groups of smaller stupas known as “Chedi Rai.” These chedis contribute to the temple’s grandeur and serve various religious and symbolic purposes. Each chedi is adorned with ceramic tiles, floral patterns, and ornamental details that reflect traditional Thai craftsmanship. The tiered structure typically tapers gracefully towards the top, crowned with a spire.
The Chedi Rai at Wat Pho enshrine relics of the Buddha or important religious texts. They serve as focal points for worship, symbolizing the presence of the Buddha’s teachings and the spiritual aspirations of the devotees. These Chedi Rais are strategically placed around the main structures of Wat Pho, including the central chedi and the ubosot (ordination hall).
The surfaces of the Chedi Rai are often covered with colorful glazed tiles and decorated with intricate floral motifs, reflective of both Thai and Chinese artistic influences. The use of vivid colors like yellow and orange enhances the visual appearance of these chedis, making them standout features within the temple complex. The exterior surfaces are covered also with stucco and painted in bright colors.
One typical example of them is the Phra Maha Chedi Sri Sanphetdayarn constructed in the reign of King Rama I. The Chedi was lacquered with green glazed china mosaic tiles as green represents Wednesday, the birthday of King Rama I. It was decorated with Singha and lotus. In Buddhism, the Singha is lion which symbolizes strength, courage, and protection; and lotus represents purity and spiritual awakening. This Chedi is 16 meters long and 42 meters high.
这种佛塔的典型例子是图中拉玛一世时期修建的 Phra Maha 塔。这座佛塔用绿色釉面瓷质马赛克瓷砖覆盖表面，绿色代表拉玛一世的生日星期三。佛塔上装饰着 狮子和莲花。在佛教中狮子象征着力量、勇气和保护；莲花代表纯洁和精神觉醒。这座佛塔长16米，高42米。
The ubosot is the main prayer hall where important religious ceremonies and rituals take place. It typically features a multi-tiered roof with intricate gables adorned with mythical creatures and decorative elements. The interior houses the principal Buddha image and is often embellished with murals depicting scenes from the Buddha’s life or Buddhist teachings.
The Reclining Buddha is one of the most iconic attractions of Bangkok. It is an immense statue measuring 46 meters in length and 15 meters in height. The statue is primarily made of brick and stucco and is covered in gold leaf, giving it a radiant appearance. The reclining posture represents the Buddha’s final moments before entering Parinirvana, a state of ultimate liberation and release from the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. The statue is housed in a specially constructed viharn surrounded by many chedis, and other smaller Buddha statues.
Next, I continued to walk towards the grand palace which is not far from the Wat Pho. It is one of Thailand’s most famous landmarks. Constructed in 1782, the Grand Palace served as the official residence of the Kings of Siam for over 150 years. It was also the administrative and religious center of the country. This is the entrance of the palace. It is required to dress trousers when visiting the Grand Palace.
The Grand Palace complex covers an area of over 218,000 square meters and is surrounded by walls built in 1782. The complex is divided into several courtyards and buildings, including the Outer Court, Middle Court, and Inner Court. The Temple of the Emerald Buddha is located at the Outer Court and it is considered the most sacred Buddhist temple in Thailand. It houses the Emerald Buddha, a highly revered statue carved from a single block of jade.
At the entrances of the temple, visitors are greeted by imposing yakshas. These statues are typically depicted with fierce expressions, large eyes, and ornate armor. Each yaksha stands over six meters tall and is brightly colored with intricate designs. They often hold a mace or a club. The yakshas are believed to protect the temple from evil spirits and ensure the sanctity of the Emerald Buddha.
The frescoes of the Temple of the Emerald Buddha (Wat Phra Kaew) are among the most exquisite and detailed artworks in Thai religious architecture. They adorn the interior walls of the temple’s cloister, narrating historical, mythological, and religious stories. The frescoes prominently depict scenes from the Ramakien, the Thai version of the Indian epic Ramayana. This series of murals narrates the story of Prince Rama, depicting his adventures and battles against the demon king Ravana. The frescoes are arranged in a sequential manner, allowing visitors to follow the stories as they walk along the cloister.
The Phra Ubosot is the main hall and the most sacred building in the temple. It is where the Emerald Buddha is housed. The hall is surrounded by eight boundary stones that demarcate the sacred area for ordination ceremonies. The roof is adorned with multi-tiered layers, featuring elegant chofahs (finials) at the gable ends, resembling the shape of a bird’s tail. The outer walls are decorated with intricate gold leaf patterns and colorful glass mosaics that shimmer in the sunlight. The whole body is really impressive, like a golden treasure.
There are some huge golden stupas in the temple. It is a prominent feature within the temple complex, representing the Buddha’s enlightened mind. It is built in the Sri Lankan-style, with a bell-shaped dome and a spire that reaches towards the sky. The stupa is entirely covered in gold tiles, giving it a radiant appearance that symbolizes purity and spiritual wealth. It is surrounded by mythical guardian statues, ensuring its sanctity and reverence. The golden statue in this photo is Kinaree which is mythical creature with the body of a bird and the torso of a human. It represents beauty, grace, and the harmony between the earthly and heavenly realms.
The Royal Pantheon is really impressive, it is a tall, elegant well decorated building with a central spire, surrounded by smaller spires, embodying the traditional Thai architectural style. It serves as a shrine for statues of past kings from the Chakri dynasty. The structure is richly adorned with intricate carvings, golden ornaments, and vibrant glass inlays.
In this temple, I could see many statues of garudas, nagas (serpents), and other mythological beings, each symbolizing different meanings. Garuda is a mythical bird-like creature that appears in both Hindu and Buddhist mythology. It is often depicted as having the body of a bird with human features. It has large wings with a powerful beak, and human-like arms and legs. In Buddhism and Hinduism, Garuda is known as the mount of Lord Vishnu. In Thai culture, Garuda is a symbol of the monarchy and is often seen in royal emblems.
The ticket of Grand Palace is 500 Baht, and it is worthy to visit it. Most of the time is spent in the temple of the Emerald Buddha It is a real masterpiece of Thai architecture, where each structure and decorative element contributes to the temple’s sacred atmosphere and historical significance. The unique architecture style is absolutely different from what I have seen in Europe and China.
The Middle Court is the heart of the Grand Palace, where the king’s official residences and important state buildings are located. It was the primary area for royal ceremonies and state functions, including coronations and official banquets. The Chakri Maha Prasat Throne Hall is a remarkable structure blending Thai and Western architectural styles. It was commissioned by King Rama V and built between 1876 and 1882. It served as a venue for the king to receive foreign dignitaries and host important state functions. Its facade is designed in the Renaissance and Neo-Classical styles, characterized by columns, arches, and symmetrical layouts. The roof is adorned with intricately decorated gables and chofahs, which are bird-like ornaments commonly found in Thai architecture.
The Phra Thinang Dusit Maha Prasat at the right side of the photo was commissioned by King Rama I in 1790, soon after the establishment of Bangkok as the new capital of Thailand. Originally built as a throne hall for various royal ceremonies, it is also used for the lying-in-state of deceased members of the royal family, where the body is displayed for public homage before the royal cremation. It is a classic example of Rattanakosin architectural style, characterized by its elevated platform, multi-tiered roof. The exterior walls are adorned with intricate stucco reliefs and gilded ornaments, showcasing traditional Thai craftsmanship.
这张照片右侧的 Phra Thinang Dusit Maha Prasat 是1790年曼谷成为泰国新首都后不久，由拉玛一世下令修建的。它最初是作为各种皇家仪式的王座大厅而建，也用于安放已故皇室成员的遗体，在皇家火葬之前，遗体会在这里供公众瞻仰。它是拉达那哥欣建筑风格的经典范例，其特点是高台、多层屋顶。外墙装饰着复杂的灰泥浮雕和镀金装饰，展现了泰国传统的工艺。
The area in the background is the Inner Court which was the residential area for the king’s consorts, daughters, and female attendants. It was a highly private and restricted area. The gardens of the Grand Palace are meticulously designed and maintained. Lush and well-maintained lawns are interspersed with flowerbeds. The extensive use of topiary, with various plants and shrubs carefully trimmed into shapes such as animals, mythical creatures, and geometric patterns add varieties of colors to this palace.
After I quitted the Grand Palace, I took some time to take some street view of Bangkok. This city often referred to as the “City of Water,” is a metropolis interwoven with an extensive network of canals, known locally as “khlongs.” The network of canals play a vital role in transportation.
There are some charming public parks that offer a tranquil retreat from the hustle and bustle of the city. Saranrom Park was originally part of the Saranrom Palace, built in the mid-19th century during the reign of King Rama IV. The palace served as a residence for royal family members. The surrounding gardens were later transformed into a public park, opened to the public in the early 20th century during the reign of King Rama V.
The afternoon of Bangkok was scorching and not suitable for travel. I took the metro to the Lumphini Park and had some short rest here before back to hotel. The monument of King Rama VI is a prominent landmark situated at the entrance of Lumphini Park. The statue of King Rama VI is a bronze sculpture that depicts the king in full military uniform, symbolizing his role as a modernizer and a leader of the nation. King Rama VI, who reigned from 1910 to 1925, is celebrated for his efforts to modernize Thailand, promote education, and support cultural development.
Lumphini Park, often referred to as the “green lung” of Bangkok, is one of the largest public parks in the city. The park spans over 142 acres, offering vast lawns, tree-lined pathways, and a variety of plant species. It has a large artificial lake where visitors can rent paddleboats and rowboats. The park is home to various wildlife species, including lizards, turtles, and numerous birds.
After a night’s rest, I started the trip of second day. My hotel is located at a pier. Similar to Venice and Rotterdam, Bangkok has a public transport system of boats which play a crucial role in navigating the city’s extensive network of waterways, offering both locals and tourists a convenient and scenic way to travel between various destinations. The Chao Phraya Express Boat is one of the most popular modes of public transport in Bangkok. It operates on the Chao Phraya River and has several routes that connect different parts of the city.
On the boat I could get a panoramic view of the city. The landscape along the Chao Phraya River offers a blend of modern skyscrapers, historic temples, bustling markets, and traditional Thai architecture. Such a boat trip is really a relaxing activity that relieved my fatigue of work.
Along the Chao Phraya River, I could see the facade of Phra Sumen Fort easily. The fortress is an octagonal structure made of brick. It has three levels with battlements and embrasures designed for cannons and other defensive artillery. It was constructed in 1783 during the reign of King Rama I, the founder of the Chakri Dynasty. The fort was strategically located along the Chao Phraya River to guard the city against naval attacks and to control river traffic. Tourist could explore a piece of Bangkok’s past by visiting it.
As Bangkok has developed rapidly in the 20th century, modern skyscrapers have emerged along the banks of the Chao Phraya River. Areas such as IconSiam and Sathorn feature sleek office towers, shopping malls, and residential complexes that reflect the city’s rapid economic growth and urbanization these years. The scenery here is similar to the Singapore river.
The Chao Phraya River is lined with some of Bangkok’s most famous temples including Wat Arun. Wat Arun, also known as the Temple of Dawn, is one of Bangkok’s most iconic landmarks and a significant cultural and religious site. It is believed to have been founded in the 17th century during the Ayutthaya period, but major renovations and expansions took place during the reign of King Rama II and King Rama III of the Rattanakosin Kingdom. The temple’s name translated to “Temple of Dawn,” is named after Aruna, the Hindu god of dawn.
The most distinctive feature of Wat Arun is its central prang, a towering spire that rises over 70 meters high. The prang is decorated with intricate ceramic tiles and fragments of Chinese porcelain, giving it a shimmering appearance. The prang is surrounded by four smaller satellite prangs, each adorned with ornate sculptures and colorful patterns that depict mythical figures and stories from Buddhist cosmology.
One of the most striking features of Wat Arun’s prang is the use of colorful ceramic tile mosaics. These tiles are arranged in floral patterns and intricate designs, incorporating shades of blue, green, yellow, and white. The tiles form a shimmering surface that catches the sunlight, giving the prang its distinctive appearance observed from faraway. The ceramic tiles also depict symbols and stories from Thai mythology such as heavenly beings, mythical creatures, and scenes from the life of the Buddha.
The temple complex includes an ubosot, or ordination hall, where religious ceremonies and rituals are conducted. It follows traditional Thai temple architecture, characterized by its rectangular shape and multi-tiered roof structure. The roof is adorned with intricate gables (chofah) and tiered finials (lud khan mai). Similar to the prang, the ubosot is constructed primarily of brick and covered with stucco. The exterior walls are embellished with delicate floral and geometric patterns rendered in stucco relief.
Surrounding the central prang are various smaller structures, pavilions, and small towers called Phra Prang which is a Khmer-style tower built to house relics of the Buddha. Wat Arun has long been associated with the Thai monarchy. It has received royal patronage over the centuries, highlighting its importance in Thai cultural and religious life. This temple and the Grand Palace are the two most famous sites in Bangkok, overcrowded by tourists from different countries.
On the street of Bangkok, I can always see many temples and Buddhism related building. In Thai culture, temples are more than just places of worship. They serve as community centers where people gather for festivals, and ceremonies. The Thai monarchy has historically been a strong patron of Buddhism. Many temples in Bangkok were built under royal sponsorship.
In many temples of Bangkok, I could find lotus planted in a large water jar. According to Buddhist lore, when the Buddha was born, lotus flowers bloomed wherever he stepped. This association makes the lotus an especially sacred flower in Buddhism. In Buddhist teachings, the lotus is not only a decoration but represents spiritual purity, resilience, and enlightenment.
Apart from the temples, I have visited some historic sites and landmarks. This Parutsakawan Palace has played an important role in Thai history and politics. It is not so well-known for the tourists, and I was the only visitors on that day. It was constructed in 1904 during the reign of King Chulalongkorn (Rama V). The palace served as the residence of Prince Paribatra and his family. Following the 1932 Siamese Revolution, which transitioned Thailand from an absolute monarchy to a constitutional monarchy, Parutsakawan Palace was confiscated by the government. The palace was repurposed for various governmental uses and has since housed different government offices and institutions.
The architecture of Parutsakawan Palace reflects a blend of European and Thai styles, which was common during the reign of King Chulalongkorn. The design incorporates elements of neoclassical and Renaissance architecture, which were popular in France at the time.
The palace is a symbol of the transition from absolute monarchy to constitutional monarchy and the associated socio-political transformations. Today, it serves as a cultural and educational resource. It is a site where visitors can learn about Thailand’s history, architecture, and cultural heritage.
Despite the European influence, the palace also incorporates traditional Thai architectural elements. These include the use of traditional Thai rooflines, decorative motifs, and intricate woodwork. The integration of Thai and European styles reflects the cultural exchange and modernization efforts of King Chulalongkorn.
Opposite to the palace is the Plaza of King Chulalongkorn. The plaza was established to honor King Chulalongkorn’s legacy and his contributions to the nation. The centerpiece of the plaza is a grand equestrian statue of King Chulalongkorn which was created by the French sculptor Georges Saulo and erected in 1908. The plaza is surrounded by important governmental buildings, which could not be visited by tourists.
Another historical site with significant cultural, architectural, and historical value is the Phaya Thai Palace. It was built in 1909 during the reign of King Chulalongkorn. It showcases a blend of European and Thai architectural styles as well which is a symbol of Thailand’s transition into the modern era. There is a beautifully landscaped gardens in front of the main buildings, which include ornamental plants, fountains, and pathways. Today, Phaya Thai Palace serves as a cultural and educational site. It offers visitors insights into Thailand’s royal history.
Before I left Bangkok, the last place to visit was the Erawan Shrine. It is one of Bangkok’s most famous religious landmarks. Located near the bustling shopping Central World, this shrine is dedicated to Phra Phrom, the Thai representation of the Hindu god Brahma. The Erawan Shrine features a statue of Phra Phrom (Brahma) with four faces, each representing different aspects of life: peace and health, good fortune, prosperity, and protection against evil. The statue is adorned with intricate gold leaf and is positioned in a small, open-air pavilion that allows worshippers to walk around it and make offerings from all sides. Visitors from all over the world came here to pray for good fortune, success, and health.
CentralWorld in Bangkok is one of the largest shopping malls in Thailand and Southeast Asia. It has hosted numerous events, including concerts and fashion shows. On the day of my visit, there are many Pikachus that attracts fans of all ages. Before I took Metro to the airport, I had a lunch here. I really enjoyed the Thailand food with spicy and sour taste.
Green Papaya Salad (Som Tum) is a classic Thai dish known for its mixing flavors and refreshing taste. It’s a popular street food and is often enjoyed as a side dish. The salad is a perfect blend of spicy, sour, sweet, and salty flavors. Its spicy taste is from the bird’s eye chilies. The sour taste is from the fresh lime juice. The sweet taste is from the palm sugar. The salty taste is from the fish sauce. It is a must-try dish for anyone interested in experiencing authentic Thai cuisine.
Yellow Curry Fish( Kaeng Kari Pla) is a Thai dish with tender fish fillets like cod, snapper, or tilapia simmered in a rich and aromatic yellow curry sauce. Yellow curry is made from a blend of turmeric, coriander, cumin, lemongrass, galangal, garlic, and shallots. Coconut milk is used to add richness and creaminess to the curry. Vegetables like potatoes, bamboo shoots, carrots, and onions are used as additions. Yellow curry is less spicy compared to red or green Thai curries and suitable for most people.
黄咖喱鱼（Kaeng Kari Pla）是一道将鳕鱼、鲷鱼或罗非鱼等嫩鱼片放入浓郁芳香的黄咖喱酱中炖煮的经典泰国菜。黄咖喱由姜黄、香菜、小茴香、柠檬草、高良姜、大蒜和青葱混合制成。椰奶则用于增加咖喱的浓郁和奶油味。土豆、竹笋、胡萝卜和洋葱等蔬菜可作为配料。与红咖喱或绿咖喱相比，黄咖喱的辣味较淡，适合大多数人。
As my journey through Bangkok drew to a close, I could find that this city is a tapestry woven with cultural treasures, bustling street life, and culinary delights. From the tranquil temples to the busy markets, every corner of this city reveals a new adventure. The city’s modern skyline seamlessly blends with its historical roots, creating a dynamic contrast that mirrors Thailand’s journey from past to present. Whether navigating the maze of waterways in a traditional longtail boat on the Chao Phraya River or savoring the explosion of spicy flavors in dishes, Bangkok offers me an immersive experience that is worthy and unforgettable.
Nestled along the banks of the winding Saigon River lies a city that pulsates with energy, history, and a unique blend of cultures. Ho Chi Minh City, a metropolis that serves as the beating heart of Vietnam’s southern region. Formerly known as Saigon, this dynamic city is a testament to the country’s resilience, having weathered centuries of colonialism, cruel wars, and rapid urbanization to emerge as a vibrant hub of commerce and culture.
I have visited this city several times when I worked in Vietnam for around half years during 2018 and 2019. I used to walk along the Saigon River in the weekend. As it flows through Ho Chi Minh City, the Saigon River is a dynamic presence, its waters reflecting the ever-changing skyline of the city. Along its banks, I can find a mix of modern skyscrapers representing the modernism of Vietnam and lush greenery, creating a picturesque backdrop for the hustle and bustle of urban life. The river plays a crucial role in the daily life of the city, serving as a transportation route for goods and people, as well as a source of livelihood for local fishermen and farmers.
But beyond its modern facade, Ho Chi Minh City is a city rich in history and tradition. From the remnants of French colonial architecture to the scars of the Vietnam War, every corner of the city tells a story, inviting visitors to delve into its past and uncover the layers of its complex heritage. The Palais de Justice, of Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City) stands as a striking testament to the city’s colonial past. Built during the French colonial era, this majestic building served as the seat of the judiciary and a symbol of French authority in Vietnam. Constructed between 1885 and 1890, the Palais de Justice was designed by the French architect Paul Gardès, who drew inspiration from classical French architectural styles. Its grand facade features neoclassical elements such as columns, arches, and intricate detailing, reflecting the opulence and grandeur of the time. Throughout its history, the Palais de Justice witnessed significant events, including trials during the colonial period and later during the Vietnam War era.
不过除了现代化的城市外观，胡志明市还是一座拥有丰富历史和传统的城市。从法国殖民时期建筑的遗迹到越南战争留下的伤痕，这座城市的每个角落都讲述着一个个故事，吸引游客深入了解它的过去，揭开其复杂的层层面纱。西贡的司法宫是这座城市殖民历史的生动见证。这座雄伟的建筑建于法国殖民时期，曾是司法机构的所在地，也是法国在越南权威的象征。司法宫建于1885 年至 1890 年间，由法国建筑师 Paul Gardès 设计，他从法国古典建筑风格中汲取灵感。其宏伟的外观采用了例如柱子、拱门和复杂的细节等新古典主义元素，反映了当时法式建筑的富丽堂皇。在其历史上，司法宫见证了包括殖民时期和后来越南战争时期的审判等重大事件。
The City Hall of Saigon, also known as Ho Chi Minh City Hall, is an iconic landmark that exudes grandeur and history in the heart of Ho Chi Minh City. Located at the end of Nguyen Hue Boulevard, the City Hall stands as a prime example of French colonial architecture. Designed by the French architect, Auguste Henri Vildieu, and completed in 1908, it served as the seat of the French colonial administration in Saigon. The building’s façade is adorned with elegant columns, ornate balconies, and a distinctive bell tower, reminiscent of the architectural styles of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
西贡市政厅，又称胡志明市政厅，是胡志明市中心一座散发着宏伟和历史气息的标志性建筑。市政厅位于阮惠大道尽头，是法国殖民时期建筑的典范。它由法国建筑师奥古斯特·亨利·维尔迪厄 (Auguste Henri Vildieu) 设计，于1908年竣工，是法国在西贡的殖民政府所在地。该建筑的外墙装饰有优雅的柱子、华丽的阳台和独特的钟楼，让人联想到19世纪末和20世纪初的法国城市风格。
Many tourists will stand at this point to take a photo. Its creamy yellow exterior, punctuated by green shutters and a prominent clock tower, commands attention. Today, the City Hall continues to play a significant role as the headquarters of the People’s Committee of Ho Chi Minh City, overseeing the governance and administration of Vietnam’s largest city. While its function has evolved over the years, the building remains an enduring symbol of Saigon’s past and present, bridging the gap between history and modernity.
Many buildings here are influenced by French architecture style largely. The Saigon Central Post Office, constructed between 1886 and 1891 during the French colonial period, stands as a stunning example of neoclassical architecture. Designed by the renowned French architect Gustave Eiffel, the mastermind behind the Eiffel Tower in Paris, the building seamlessly blends European influences with local Vietnamese elements, creating a captivating fusion of styles.
As I stepped through its grand entrance, I was greeted by a cavernous interior hall adorned with intricate wrought-iron arches, elegant marble floors, and a soaring vaulted ceiling. Sunlight streams through the building’s large windows, emitting a warm glow on the rows of wooden counters and antique telephone booths that line the hall. Perhaps the most striking feature of the Saigon Central Post Office is its vast dome, which dominates the central hall and serves as a focal point for visitors. Decorated with delicate mosaic tiles depicting the planets and zodiac symbols, the dome is a breathtaking display of craftsmanship and artistry. Despite its age, the Saigon Central Post Office remains a bustling hub of activity, with tourists flocking to its counters to send postcards as souvenirs.
Inherited from the French culture, Saigon kept the building of opera house like all the French cities. Built in the late 19th century during the French colonial period, this majestic structure stands as a testament to the enduring legacy of European influence in Vietnam. Designed by French architect Eugène Ferret and inaugurated in 1897, the Saigon Opera House has a stunning façade characterized by neoclassical features, including graceful arches, intricate carvings, and ornate balconies. Its elegant exterior, adorned with statues and embellishments, exudes an air of luxury and grandeur, inviting passersby to marvel at its beauty. On the day of my visit, the opera played is the Nutcracker composed by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.
Step inside, and I was transported to a world of opulence and refinement immediately. The interior of the opera house is a masterpiece of architectural design, with its sweeping staircase, gleaming marble floors, and sumptuous décor evoking the glamour of a bygone era. The main auditorium, adorned with sparkling chandeliers and plush seating, provides an exquisite setting for the world-class performances that grace its stage.
This is the street view along the opera house with a statue of Mozart playing flute. The weather of Ho Chi Minh City is characterized by a tropical climate that is generally hot and humid throughout the year. There are many tropical plants here like Coconut Palm and Rain Tree. I visited this city during the mild and dry winter without rain. The weather is suitable for travel.
The iconic landmark of Ho Chi Minh City must be the Saigon Notre-Dame Cathedral Basilica. Constructed between 1863 and 1880 by the French colonial authorities, it was designed by the French architect Jules Bourard in the neo-Romanesque style, with distinctively red brick walls imported from France. Its twin bell towers rise gracefully above the city skyline, while its façade features intricate rose windows, ornate carvings, and statues of saints, creating a striking contrast against the modern skyscrapers that surround it.
Throughout the exterior of the cathedral, smaller steel windows are placed to provide ventilation and natural light to the interior spaces. These windows are typically rectangular or arched in shape and are adorned with simple decorative grilles. Although they are not as elaborate as the rose window, these smaller windows contribute to the overall aesthetic of the cathedral’s facade。
To know the history and culture of Vietnam, it is recommended to visit the Fine Arts Museum of Ho Chi Minh City. It has a blend of French colonial and Chinese architectural influences. Its graceful exterior features ornate balconies, arched windows, and intricate carvings, while its interior showcases spacious galleries adorned with elegant woodwork and furnishings.
The museum’s extensive collection spans various periods and styles of Vietnamese art, ranging from ancient artifacts to contemporary works. Visitors can admire traditional Vietnamese paintings, sculptures, ceramics, lacquerware, and folk art, as well as exhibits showcasing the influence of French colonialism and Chinese influences on Vietnamese art.
The influence of China on Vietnam spans thousands of years and has had a profound impact on various aspects of Vietnamese culture, society, language, and history. Vietnam was ruled by Chinese domination for over a millennium, starting with the Han Dynasty’s annexation of the territory in 111 BC and lasting until the Tenth Century. Chinese characters were introduced to Vietnam and became the basis for written communication and literature. While Vietnamese eventually developed its own script, chu Nom, based on Chinese characters, the influence of Chinese characters can still be seen in Vietnamese writing, particularly in formal and scholarly texts. This photo is a military appointment during the reign of Emperor Thiệu Trị, the third emperor of the Nguyễn dynasty. Chinese characters are still used at that time.
Some traditional buildings in this city with their architectural style, artwork, and religious practices bear witness to the enduring cultural connections between Vietnam and China. One of the pagodas in Ho Chi Minh City that bears important Chinese influence is the Jade Emperor Pagoda. While it is a Vietnamese Buddhist temple, it showcases architectural elements and cultural influences from Chinese Mahayana Buddhism. The pagoda’s architectural style is reminiscent of traditional Chinese temples, with curved roofs adorned with colorful ceramic tiles, intricate wood carvings, and ornate decorations. The layout of the pagoda follows the typical structure of Chinese temples, including a central hall, courtyards, and side halls. The pagoda hosts various festivals and religious ceremonies throughout the year, some of which are based on Chinese lunar calendar traditions. For example, the Lunar New Year (Tết Nguyên Đán) and the Mid-Autumn Festival (Tết Trung Thu) are celebrated with special rituals and performances.
Mentioning the religion of Vietnam, I must highlight one characteristic religion called Cao Dai religion that I have never heard before. Located in Tay Ninh Province, approximately 90 kilometers northwest of Ho Chi Minh City, this Holy See Temple in this picture is the spiritual center of the Cao Dai religion. This religion was founded in 1926 by Ngo Van Chieu, a Vietnamese civil servant, and is based on a combination of elements from various world religions, including Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism, Christianity, and Islam. The religion’s central tenet is the belief in a supreme deity known as Cao Dai, who governs the universe and embodies the principles of love, justice, and compassion.
The Tay Ninh Holy See is characterized by its distinctive architectural style, which combines elements of Eastern and Western design. The main temple complex features a large, ornate structure with colorful facades, intricate carvings, and decorative motifs symbolizing the diverse religious influences of the Cao Dai faith. This religion is inspired from the mixture of other religions. When I saw the Eye of Horus which serves as a protective symbol and a potent emblem of divine authority in ancient Egyptian mythology on the wall of the temple, I was really shocked.
The Holy See Temple serves as a place of worship and pilgrimage for Cao Dai adherents, who gather for daily rituals, ceremonies, and prayers. Worshipers dress in traditional white robes and participate in elaborate rituals that involve chanting and meditation. The Cao Dai religion incorporates a rich tapestry of religious symbolism, rituals, and beliefs that reflect its syncretic nature. Followers believe in the existence of a spiritual hierarchy, including saints, spirits, and divine beings, who serve as intermediaries between humanity and the supreme deity.
Vietnam is a resilient country in its history. It developed its own language and culture although influenced by China for nearly one thousand years. Later, it was colonized by France in the mid-19th century as part of French Indochina. Resistance against French colonial rule began to emerge in the early 20th century. One of the most influential figures in Vietnam’s fight for independence was Ho Chi Minh. He was a revolutionary leader who played a key role in founding the Vietnamese Communist Party (VCP) in 1930 and organizing resistance against both French colonial rule and Japanese occupation during World War II. The First Indochina War (1946-1954) was fought between the Viet Minh and French forces, culminating in the decisive Battle of Dien Bien Phu in 1954, where the Viet Minh successfully defeated the French, leading to the Geneva Accords and the partition of Vietnam into North and South. Following the partition of Vietnam, the communist-led government of North Vietnam, under Ho Chi Minh’s leadership, sought to reunify the country under communist rule. The Vietnam War (1955-1975) escalated into a protracted conflict between North Vietnam, supported by the Soviet Union and China, and South Vietnam, supported by the United States and its allies. In April 1975, North Vietnamese forces launched the Ho Chi Minh Campaign, leading to the capture of Saigon and the reunification of Vietnam under communist rule. The Reunification Palace is a symbol of Vietnam’s struggle for independence and reunification.
The palace surrounded by greenery is located in the city center with many people passing by. It has a large area of lawns and a fountain. It was originally constructed in the 1960s as the presidential residence and administrative headquarters of the South Vietnamese government. It replaced the former Norodom Palace, which was heavily damaged during a coup attempt in 1962. The new palace was designed by Vietnamese architect Ngô Viết Thụ and completed in 1966. The architecture of the Reunification Palace is a blend of modernist and traditional Vietnamese design elements. The building features clean lines, spacious halls, and minimalist decor, with an emphasis on functionality and efficiency.
The Reunification Palace witnessed several key events during the Vietnam War, including the Tet Offensive of 1968 and the Fall of Saigon in 1975. Today, it serves as a museum and tourist attraction, offering visitors the opportunity to explore its historic rooms, and hallways. The museum showcases artifacts, documents, and photographs related to the palace’s history and the events that took place there during the Vietnam War. As a symbol of national unity and independence, the Reunification Palace holds special significance for the Vietnamese people. It serves as a reminder of the country’s struggle for independence and sovereignty.
The War Remnants Museum stands as a testament to the resilience of the Vietnamese people as well. Established in 1975 shortly after the end of the Vietnam War, the War Remnants Museum was originally known as the “Exhibition House for US and Puppet Crimes.” Its primary mission was to document the atrocities committed by the United States and its allies during the war.
The museum’s outdoor area features a collection of military equipment, aircraft, tanks, and artillery used during the Vietnam War. These displays offer visitors a firsthand look at the machinery of war.
During the Vietnam War, the United States deployed a wide range of aircraft to support its military operations in Southeast Asia. These aircraft played a crucial role in various missions. The F-105 Thunderchief was a supersonic fighter-bomber used primarily for bombing missions over North Vietnam. Despite massive investments in military resources and escalating bombing campaigns, the United States was unable to achieve its strategic objectives in Vietnam. The conflict became increasingly bogged down in a stalemate, with neither side able to secure a decisive victory. The North Vietnamese demonstrated remarkable resilience and great determination and the war resulted in the eventual withdrawal of American forces finally.
The museum’s exhibits are divided into several thematic sections, each offering a comprehensive and harrowing portrayal of different aspects of the war, especially the cruelty. Exhibits include photographs, artifacts, documents, and multimedia presentations that depict the human cost of the conflict, including the suffering of civilians, the use of chemical weapons such as Agent Orange, and the experiences of prisoners of war. I am always a fun of military strategy and history, so this museum is a perfect place for me.
To know the history of this city, the visitors may visit the Ho Chi Minh City Museum established in 1975. The museum’s exhibits cover a wide range of topics related to the history, culture, and development of Ho Chi Minh City. Visitors can explore galleries dedicated to the city’s pre-colonial history, its role as a trading hub and colonial outpost, the impact of French colonialism, the struggle for independence, and the modernization and urbanization of Saigon in the 20th century.
Although the Ho Chi Minh City is a quite modernized city with many skyscrapers. It lacks the facility of public transport like metro. Motorbikes play a significant role in Vietnam’s transportation landscape, serving as the primary mode of personal travel for millions of people across the country. On Vietnam’s roads, from bustling city streets to rural villages and scenic countryside, flocks of motorbikes always appeared in my eyes.
The night view of this city is splendid. It offers a vibrant and diverse nightlife scene from bustling night markets and lively bars that caters to a wide range of tastes and preferences. Ben Thanh Night Market is the place for people shopping for souvenirs, handicrafts, clothing, and local street food. These markets come alive with colorful lights, lively music, and the hustle and bustle of vendors and shoppers.
Before I went to France for studies, I have worked in this city for nearly half year. As I bid farewell to Ho Chi Minh City, I carry with me a treasure trove of memories and experiences that have broadened my horizons, deepened my appreciation for Vietnamese culture, and left me yearning for more adventures in this captivating corner of the world. When I embark on the next chapter of my journey, the time spent in this remarkable city will always be kept in my memory.
