When travelling solo, I am always aware of the ebb and flow of my mood. There is a kind of rhythm, a leap of the heart at the excitement of observing unfamiliar scenes and appreciating similarities at the same time. Unforeseen circumstances, be it bad luck or bad planning, can cast a shadow over the trip.

The heat was getting the better of me this afternoon, and I was very tired and miserable. That was, until I visited the Presidential Palace.

The Presidential Palace had a historic presence in Nanjing. Its oldest sections began as early as the Ming Dynasty in the 14th century. It has served as the offices and residence of the Liangjiang Viceroy during the Qing Dynasty. When the Taiping Rebellion captured Nanjing and named it the capital, this site was the throne room of the Taiping Heavenly King Hong Xiu Quan. During the Republican period, the Nationalist Party took over the building to serve as the government headquarters, thus naming it the Presidential Palace. Under the Japanese occupation, the venue served as the headquarters of the puppet government, which Wang Jingwei headed. When WWII was over, the Nationalists once again named this site the Presidential Palace until the Communists took over in 1949.[1]

This long history was a lot for me to learn, but thankfully the exhibitions inside the many halls and assembly rooms in the site explained amply to the tourist. The exhibitions covered the history of the Presidential Palace under the Qing Dynasty (focusing on the life of Zeng Guofan, a Qing Liangjiang Viceroy known for the Westernization Movement), the Taiping Rebellion, and the Republication period till WWII. The huge crowd there prevented me from taking time at the exhibits, however. The enormous site was barely big enough for all those tourists. Eventually, I gave up and decided to visit the outlaying gardens and lakes instead. Before leaving, I visited the former residence of Sun Yatsen in the northern center of the site. I have always admired Dr. Sun Yatsen.

Exiting the Presidential Palace, one finds a tourist attraction of a markedly different character. The 1912 is a hip bar street with many establishments to choose from. I decided to sit down with a cold drink before the next destination. Sitting across from me was Sunny from Canton. She thought I might be a southerner by the way I spoke mandarin.

She told me about her life working in Nanjing. Even though her family has a small restaurant in Canton, she decided to work for a trading company. She thought she must learn all the skills first before one day she takes up the family business. The company has not provided a fair arrangement for her, and she was thinking of changing jobs. Before we said goodbye, she told me a crucial bit of information: the main attractions in Nanjing are closed on Mondays.

This chanced meeting with a Cantonese girl restored my spirit. I was ready to head out to the Fuzimiao area to see the Qinhuai River.

Many tourists flooded Nanjing on this long weekend of Ching Ming Festival. Perhaps the Fuzimiao (Confucius Temple) area was the epitome of China’s appetite for the tourist economy. The whole area was built to the looks of ancient Chinese structures to elicit a sense of the historic. The original Confucius Temple in the area was long ago destroyed in Nanjing’s unfortunate historical events. What was standing there was not a historic relic but a structure of the 1980s. Properly understood, the area was a tourism project that drew enormous crowds looking for food and shopping.

Worthy of note was the celebration of ancient China’s top scholars (zhuangyuan) at the pavilion across from the former site of the Confucius Temple. Every year’s top scholar made public appearance at the top floor of this pavilion, although according to my guide book it was not clear if this structure might have been a rendition from the 1984 restoration project.[2]

There was a long line for the tickets to the Qinhuai river boat. I was determined to see the Qinghuai River, for the Nanjing people considered it the life blood of the city. That said, the area was known to be the “boys’ playground” since its revival in the Ming and Qing Dynasties, all the way until the Japanese occupation. “Pleasure boats” brought rich and powerful men to this area for secret meetings. Stories of the eight beauties of Qinhuai celebrated the gifted courtesans that could paint, play music and write poems. They entertained their guests by performance only.

The Qinhuai River has inspired many poets in the past. Tang Dynasty Poets like Du Mu, Li Bo and Liu Yuxi have written about the Qinhuai River. Some impressed readers with scenes of prosperity; while some wrote about the romance; still others lamented the rise and fall of dynasties that the river witnessed.

The 45-minute boat ride came with a lecture on the history of Qinhuai River. There seemed to be a story at every turn of the river, at every bridge that we passed under, and at every street that lined the riverside. I was amazed, as this very water flowed with history. With the best of intentions, however, I was not able to focus on the recorded lecture. Soon enough, I found myself absorbed by the scenery before me. Before my eyes were images of the river’s glorious past.

I ended the night doing what tourists did.  I had all the Nanjing street food that I wanted, and bought Nanjing souvenirs.  Despite the disastrous first half, the rest of the day was wonderful, and I came back to the hotel satisfied.

[1] Eric N Danielson, Nanjing and the Lower Yangzi, The Definitive Travel Guide at 89-90.

[2] Id. at 118.