Fenghuang Mood
For this trip I chose Fenghuang Old Town in Western Hunan, planning to stay a few days doing nothing—just sitting by the Tuo River in a daze, sipping tea and chatting in a small teahouse, or wandering the alleys to feel the atmosphere of Fenghuang, its simple folk ways, and its cultural spirit... During these few days...
This article is compiled from the original travel notes on the "Zhangjiajie Tour Guide Network" (33519.com); it is a record of trips from earlier years. Time-sensitive information such as ticket prices, schedules, and accommodation prices is subject to the latest announcements from scenic areas and transportation authorities; the itinerary ideas and attraction introductions still have reference value.
For this trip I chose Fenghuang Ancient Town in Xiangxi, planning to stay there a few days doing nothing—just sitting by the Tuo River in a daze, or drinking tea and chatting in a small teahouse, or strolling through the little alleys to feel the atmosphere of Fenghuang Ancient Town, to experience its simple folk ways, to sense its cultural spirit...
During those few days of my short stay, many things left a deep impression on me. One of them was a dish I ate at the Fangzheng Eatery on the stone-slab street—"stir-fried fern with cured meat." The cured meat was sliced thin, half fat and half lean, with a unique fresh fragrance of the local cured meat; the fern had absorbed the meat's oil, combining with the fern's slight bitterness—a kind of intimate feeling hard to put into words. Perhaps it was simply because it was the first dish I ate upon arriving in Fenghuang, but in any case I loved this dish immensely, and during those days I couldn't go a day without it.
Also, the students painting and sketching by the jumping stones often appear in my mind. What is happiness? Perhaps this is it for them—ignoring all the chaos and worries of the world, concentrating fully on painting by the river. I once watched a Hong Kong television special on the famous painter Huang Yongyu. A large part of it consisted of interview segments, filmed right here by the Tuo River's jumping stones, where he told stories from his childhood. So the scenery around these jumping stones left a deep impression on me. I also seem to recall saying to my travel companion that every place needs some stories—stories of real, living, successful people—for the place to have spirit. I think of the story of Huang Yongyu painting here as a child, and now he has become a world-class painter. Through the power of this story, many art students are drawn here to follow the path he once walked. This is the spirit, this is the soul of this place.
Also unforgettable is the sight of Fenghuang people washing clothes by the river with wooden boards. During my few days' stay, I noticed that from morning to night, local residents were always washing clothes along the Tuo River. Each of them held a specially made wooden board, used to beat the clothes. Especially around eight or nine in the morning, both banks of the river and beneath the piers of the wooden bridge were crowded with people—mostly women and the elderly—washing clothes with a rhythmic "patta, patta" that rose and fell in waves. Occasionally tourists would take photos of them, but they seemed accustomed to it and paid no attention. Especially in the evening, children would strip completely naked and play in the water around the clothes-washers on the bank. Strangely, they were neither shy nor afraid of the tourists' cameras and gazes. I think children in big cities lack this innocent simplicity. Life here is undoubtedly natural, comfortable, and simple. I imagine their habits have always been this way, unchanged much by the arrival of us tourists.
Of course, there are many other unforgettable sights as well—the stilted houses along the river, the ancient city tower, the quaint inns, the elegant and beautiful shop signs, the pleasure boats on the Tuo River, the strings of red chili peppers hanging in front of houses, the batik on the stone-slab street, the Rainbow Bridge, the Duocui Tower (now Huang Yongyu's studio), the white pagoda, the Fenghuang people carrying bamboo baskets on their backs, the atmosphere of a morning stroll along the Tuo River, Shen Congwen's Border Town... all are deeply unforgettable and will become my beautiful memories.
To have such a good mood and be able to appreciate the beauty, tranquility, and leisure of Fenghuang Ancient Town, I must of course mention my travel companion—a girl who is understanding, warm, simple, and talented. I still remember that on the night I had a slight cold, my companion softly read Border Town aloud to lull me to sleep. Her gentle voice had such rhythm and cadence, and the words of Border Town are inherently beautiful and natural, leaving me deeply enchanted. Even now, that voice from the heavens still echoes in my mind from time to time. And that night we sat on the fourth-floor terrace chatting the whole evening—I've completely forgotten what we talked about, but the tender affection, the soft and witty words, the occasional sighs, the occasional laughter, the occasional joy, the occasional... those scenes are still deeply imprinted in my memory.
I've already returned to Beijing, yet I still deeply miss those few days of living in Fenghuang Ancient Town—free and easy, comfortable and pleasant, leisurely and carefree. It's said that Fenghuang Ancient Town gets one or two heavy snowfalls every year, and the whole town will be covered in snow, presenting a different scenery and a different flavor. Perhaps if I have time then, I'll go back and stay a few more days, to experience a snow-covered Fenghuang Ancient Town.