I’m trying to count how many old villages I’ve visited in China, but the definition is too vague to get to a real number. Sometimes it’s a real old town, such as Shishecun or Ruyayang. Other times, it’s just an old street in a city, such as Gaoyou . Sometimes we simply visit a single building, such as the Shangchizhai Pharmacy in Xinghua, or a mountain, like as Zhinan Mountain. Then there are also times an old town has been Disneyfied beyond recognition, so much that I’m struggling to label it an original town, such as Wuxi’s Nanchang Street.
And while thinking of all such villages, I’m wondering why. I’ve never given myself a real answer. It’s more than an excuse to walk a bit. But I think it’s why people participate in let’s say bird watching, plane spotting, gardening, or collecting comic books. All these things have a sense of purpose, a quest — but not a really difficult one. There’s enough variety in these hobbies to allow for a sense of adventure, but also enough constraint in the sense that planes always follow the same route, and plants grow along the same principles. So it’s a delicate combination of knowing what’s about to happen with a sense of surprise.
Old towns are like that to me. They’re more exciting than going to a shopping mall or a tourist attraction — which I feel are all too similar (as well as too crowded).
Today another destination that fits my search — near Haining (海宁). Most towns in the triangle of Hangzhou, Suzhou, and Shanghai have all been turned into attractions, such as Tongli (同里), Wuzhen (乌镇), or Nanxun (南浔) and some even charge an entry fee. But Luzhong Town (路仲古镇) remains untouched, according to Xiaohongshu. And it’s true. There’s no coffee place, or signage to take selfies.
There are ruins on one side of the road, with some stones filled with rainwater from yesterday’s typhoon. In the village, a tiny square with a paifang (牌坊) in the middle has flooded. A small path goes around the west side of the village, and leads us around garden plots and a deserted building. There are several important bridges with names, and former residences with high-walled gardens where once important people lived. A young girl takes a photo of me, and I pretend to take a photo of her. A lady passing in an alley wishes me a happy Mid-Autumn Festival. In a way, it’s nothing special. But in every other way, it is.
