Visiting Jiangnan in March, I expected a spring shower and warm breeze to bring some misty romance to the willow-graced West Lake. However, bright sunshine offered a totally different but still enjoyable ambience.

Day 1: West Lake

Every time I visit a city, my trip start by going up from an underground arrival point, so the first sight I catch always impress me greatly. For Hangzhou, this first impression was not bad. I walked all the way from the subway station to where I would stay, which was several kilometers away. What I saw along the way was how people lived their ordinary life. There were not many shops and the several I spotted seemed not to be in any hurry to attract customers. People looked relax but no less serious about their life. Green plants were everywhere and it felt extremely cozy.

I stayed for only 28 hours and spent most of my time except a night a sleep by the West Lake. Getting off a bus, I was overwhelmed once and again. Walking into the Liugongyuan Park, I was attracted to a wood door before I knew it, at one point, sunlight shone through the tree leaves and flickered on the ground. I felt as if I was in the legendary peach blossom garden. Moving on a bit further, the clear water of the West Lake and the green mountains surrounding it got me refreshed. It was so beautiful. Against the background of layers upon layers of mountains, small boats dispersed on the lake shining under the sun. It felt as if I had been in a fairytale.

I walked by the West Lake. The bank was lined up with tree of all forms. They each was so unique yet standing together they made a perfect whole. The leaves were lush green, brimmed with the vigor of life. The weather was comfortable with gentle breeze, and the water washed onto the bank with a soothing rhythm. It was soon dusk but there was no fishing boat coming ashore. I even found no one angling which was quite surprising because the lake was surely teeming with fish.

Day 2: Lingyin Temple

I got up very early the next morning because I wanted to visit the Lingyin Temple. Luckily, it did not disappoint me. Lingyin was different from all other temple I had visited. Among yellow walls and dark tiles, wafts of incense smoke spiraled up. In the shade of century-old trees, tourists were quiet and pious and the atmosphere serene and pleasant.

Intoxicated by the picturesque West Lake, I walked around it for the distance of a complete marathon but still was reluctant to leave. It felt so good. I had never felt this way in any other city. I was refreshed, body and soul. I was trying to find the correct words to describe what I felt about Hangzhou and the West Lake all the time. I was deeply moved at first sight. The city felt like a young boy in his early 20s, with a good-looking face and a tall and slim figure. Even a middle-aged woman would be seduced and could do nothing but to attribute everything to his cleverness and cuteness. The special charm may vanish all of a sudden and then come back when you turned around a street corner and saw a Japanese style yard where this young boy was smoking a pipe with his legs crossed, beaming to you, saying “long time no see.” His eyes seemed to be reassuring you that he had been looking for you too, and you just felt content about all this.

I tried to find perfect words to describe Hangzhou and what I finally found were exactly ling and yin, which respectively meant cleverness and seclusion. Cleverness is easy to understand. Wherever there is water, there is cleverness. Water represents the blessings of heaven and brings freshness. Seclusion is derived from cleverness. It is never noisy or chaotic here and a profound serenity prevails, with occasional outburst of vigor to add to the special attractiveness.

The West Lake is picturesque and it changes with every step you move. I was so cautious when walking along the lake bank, fearing that moving any faster, I will miss one of the best views in the world. I had not really believed in the widely known saying that Suzhou and Hangzhou are like paradise, thinking that Chengdu was good enough. Yet when I was really there, I realized how precise that saying was. Hangzhou did not feel like a city built by men. It felt like a city that grew out of nature. It embraced nature and fitted into it perfectly like everything was arranged by gods.

To come back to Beijing, I had to take the subway that first sent me into this city, so, every step on my way back felt like a flash back to what had experienced the previous day. It was like I had toured heaven and come back to where I started. Before entering the subway station, I glanced back to repeat my first sight of this city. Nothing had changed but everything seemed somewhat different.

One must experience as much as possible when he/she is young, so that when it is time to decide where to spend the last years of life, he/she will have no regret. Now that I have visited Hangzhou, I am more than content.