A Sea of Bamboos

Planning these little weekends out of Nanjing require quite of bit of research. I'm normally rather fond of research, but the lack of a consistent internet connection and the inability to Google things on most days mean you usually get your information from less than favorable online sources. The circumstances also make you never want to complain about with Wifi available back home. However faulty the maps may be or the tortoise-like speed of the internet in China, you can always count on a fantastic English translation of your destination. A favorite quotation from a travel site was about Yixing, a neighboring city to Wuxi. We knew we wanted to go the minute we read the following: Yixing abounds with bamboos and has been called the sea of bamboos since ancient times. There is a sea of bamboos there, forming a sea of bamboos." A sea of bamboos? Since ancient times? Forming a sea of bamboos? Yes, please. We weren't sure exactly how to get there, but were confident we would be drawn to such a fantastic place. After meandering around the dubbed film district of Wuxi and watching a woman do her tai chi routine with the largest red fan I've ever seen, we were ready to embark on our adventure to see this so called sea of bamboos that abounds in Yixing.

Rope bridges in seas of bamboos

A city bus took us to the station where we were able to puzzle out that yes, indeed, a coach could take us from Wuxi to Yixing. However, you needed to purchase those tickets at a kiosk downstairs. That particular kiosk had zero English, which meant we played a game of "identify the Chinese Characters for Wuxi, Yixing & Bus in less than 45 seconds before we have to start all over again". It's become a favorite pastime since. After a few tries, we won the game! Tickets in hand, we were on our way. The bus ride there was uneventful; the most exciting aspect was trying to block out the blaring horn of our over eager driver and deciding that the people in front of us brought the loudest snacks possible to eat on the bus (sunflower seeds and pop rocks, in case you wanted to share my pain). A tourist bus then took us another couple of hours further away from commercial buildings and restaurants, where two lane highways replaces multilane ones, and the advertisements melted into countryside, pocked with strawberry fields and vendors camped out selling bowls of the ruby fruit on these side of the road. The strawberry fields soon began to fold into bamboos. Not quite a sea, but certain small puddles of the tall greens.

Yixing abounds with bamboos and has been called a sea of bamboos since ancient times

Suddenly, that sea of bamboos became very much apparent – we had arrived. It's hard to exactly describe how magical it is to wander around a forest of bamboos. The leafy tops tower over you, each sturdy bamboo trunk creates an optical illusion as you walk on rope bridges through miles of the stuff. There were multiple bridges to cross, several pagodas to picture with and a gondola ride that took the cake as the best part of the day. We had packed a lunch of local fruit, some crackers and other snacks to eat as we rode the gondola. The entire ride was captivating; the same mist that swirled around the Giant Buddha spilled into Yixing's sea of bamboos, shrouding rolling hills slathered in bamboos as far as the eye can see. Each misty mountain just folded into the neighboring mountain, forming a scene that was difficult to really comprehend or truly appreciate.

Not pictured: juicy Asian pears and crackers that taste exactly like tomato soup

The end of the gondola took you up to the highest peak we could see in lieu of the mist, dropping us off at an incredibly tall pagoda that you could climb to get even higher. Really, for as far as you could see, it was just an ocean of dark leafy bamboo tops, seamlessly melting into the gray sky. The whole day was eerie and magical, and totally worth suffering through slow internet for.

The mist makes every bit that much cooler