27-28 April 2016
187 miles northwest of Shanghai is Nanjing, aka Nanking. Some of you may remember learning about the Rape of Nanking in your history or literature classes. One-in-the-same.
An hour and a half on the G-train and a short metro ride (the metro here is operated via coins, FYI) and I'm in the city center.
187 miles northwest of Shanghai is Nanjing, aka Nanking. Some of you may remember learning about the Rape of Nanking in your history or literature classes. One-in-the-same.
An hour and a half on the G-train and a short metro ride (the metro here is operated via coins, FYI) and I'm in the city center.
Upon emerging from the hollowed depths of the metro, I find myself in the middle of the war to end all wars. A single modern palace is besieged upon by opposing forces. The courtyard is no-mans-land, sprawled with friend and foe; wearing their chosen badges proudly as they partake in quiet discourse. Hushed tones plot the demise of the opposition under the shelter of branded canvas while each loyal vanguard clings to what's left of their precious black-gold. The battle field is littered with emerald and crimson placards emblazoned with their infamous insignia. Yes, it's the battle of Hogwarts, the Battle of Waterloo, of Yorktown, and Agincourt! It's... Starbucks v. Costa Coffee. Now I find myself plagued with the paralysis of indecision. Which side do you choose? ...Needless to say, I found this terribly amusing.
Adjacent to the battle field, a memorial was erected to remember those lost to carbonated caffeine.
In the aftermath of Spring Festival, these forgotten, yet lovely miniature lanterns continue to grace the branches of this cherry blossom tree.
Umbrellas artfully strung above a courtyard to provide shade to passersby and diners.
A small pop-up market selling all sorts of handmade goods and trinkets.
A beautifully decorated patio adorned with stained-glass windows and foliage braided through the eaves.
The Gate of the Presidential Palace and the China Modern History Museum.
The Palace housed the Office of the President of the Republic of China since 1927 until it was moved to Taiwan in 1949.
Note: Republic of China and the People's Republic of China (or PRC) are not synonymous. PRC=Mainland China, while ROC=Taiwan. Learn more here.
Entering the Palace.
There was lots to see in this museum. Not all of it is English-speaker friendly, but many exhibits do come with multi-lingual placards. It's worth a tour, especially if you have a few hours to kill before you can check into your hotel room...
A Propaganda piece, in French.
Seems rather poignant these days...
You've got England, Germany, the USA, Russia, and Japan all wanting a piece of that China pie.
The Meeting Hall in it's original WWII-era state.
The Exterior of one of the many buildings on the property. One of the more beautiful, in my opinion. It's like New Orleans meets China.
A quiet place for a rendez-vous.
The old and the new.
I love the little bridges.
So well manicured!
"Rock Gardens and Rock Decor
Every Chinese garden has some type of rock element. Some designers opt for a simple rock garden, while others construct miniature mountains from a collection of rocks. Sometimes gardeners make mountains from both rocks and dirt. Large, classic Chinese gardens will have a huge faux mountain with a pavilion located at the summit.
Rocks are chosen based on their shape, texture, substance, color and softness. Limestone rocks that have taken strange shapes due to erosion are among the most valued rocks for Chinese gardeners.
Meaning of Rock Mountains
Including a miniature mountain in the Chinese garden isn’t just for aesthetics. Mountains have symbolic meaning in Chinese culture, too. Mountain peaks symbolize virtue and stability. They also symbolize belief in the philosophy laid out by Confucius. Also, the legend of the Isles of the Immortals had a mountain peak as its main focus point, which is why the mountain is a central unit in several Chinese gardens."
From China Highlights
Hobbit Hole, anyone?
The beautiful garden.
Close up shot on a wall decal.
A royal throne for a royal tush.
A statue with another cool wall medallion.
More well manicured gardens, and beautiful footpaths.
A picturesque pond, complete with a bridge, hobbit hole, and Chinese landscaping.
Some important looking building sporting key elements of Communism-era architecture.
Feeling a bit knackered, I walked the few blocks to my hotel. The Golden Eagle Summit Hotel. I spoiled myself a bit on this trip and went for a Suite, complete with a view and a bathtub!! I made full use of that tub. Bubble baths really are wonderful!
After checking, I decided to see what I could find for dinner. A quick search on iMaps (yes, it works in China) and I found a good ol' Irish Pub. A 5 minute taxi ride later, and I am walking down a beautiful alley way that I imagine gets pretty busy on the weekends. I find the pub, and step inside. As it is still a little early, the only other person inside is a man, sitting at the bar with a guitar, singing an old folk tune. ...and I am dying inside a little. This is awesome. He sees me and immediately jumps up and lays the guitar on the bar. He greets me in a lilting Scottish (yes, scottish) accent and asks what he can do for me. I saddle up to the bar and ask what he can recommend on the menu. He says the Roast is quite delicious, so that and a Kilkenny is what I order. We sit and talk, just the two of us; swapping back stories and discussing world politics and whatnot. I also learn he is not just the bartender, but the owner of this fine establishment.
After a bit he asks if he might play me a song. I all but beg him to. So, he resumes his seat at the bar and strums the strings as he begins to wail out Wilde Mountain Thyme, a song I am very familiar with. The scene is so perfect, my eyes actually began to well up a bit. I was completely captured by the moment, I could hardly move for fear of ruining it.
Needless to say, the food was delicious, as promised. The atmosphere was charming and homey, and the service was wonderful. I would highly recommend this place should you find yourself in Nanjing.
Oh, and for all my fellow Oregonians... they have Rogue's Dead Guy on tap. Win!
After the delightful meal, I bid my farewells and caught a taxi back to the hotel. I made myself a lovely bubble bath, then nestled into my large, cozy bed.
I woke up early, checked out of the hotel and had the front desk call me a taxi. The first stop of the day was...Hall of Sun Yat-Sen Mausoleum
Or, as I like to call it.... The Pilgrimage. There's about .25 miles of a slight incline, then another .2 miles of.... stairs. Shade is minimal, and the vendors have a monopoly on the bottled water service at the top, so pack it with you.
The first flight of stairs.
The next "set" of stairs...
A look back. You can see the path fade into the horizon...
What's at the top? A Mauseleum to Sun Yat-Sen, a Chinese revolutionary, first president and founding father of the Republic of China, and a medical practitioner. He's one of the few people from the early revolution years to be honored by PRC citizens. You can learn more about him here.
After Sun Yat-Sen, I traveled across town to the Memorial of the Nanjing Massacre. This was one powerful Memorial. I remember learning about this in school, but nothing had prepared me for this. I couldn't begin to image actually experiencing an event like this.
300,000 innocent lives in 6 weeks.
Halfway through, my gut was sore, and my tear ducts were barely hanging in there.
The first statue upon entering the memorial grounds.
As you walk down the side of the main building, you see these depictions of the brutality and heartbreak of the event.
300,000.
Three Hundred Thousand.
Trois Cents Mille.
Trecente Mila.
In remembrance. Let these atrocities never again be committed.
Iris Chang, Journalist, Historian, Human Rights Activist and Author of The Rape of Nanking.
An eternal flame burns in remembrance of those lost.
Never Again.
At the end of the memorial is a tribute to the pursuit of Peace.
PEACE.
Forgive, but never forget.
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