And now dear readers, allow me if you will, to take you on a pleasant journey through yet another 2nd tier Chinese city. This week, we shall examine Ningbo, or as it was formerly known during the British colonial period, Ningpo. First let’s start off with what I had for breakfast, which I can easily say was the finest breakfast in all the prefecture, in fact you could even say it was a breakfast of champions. Taking advantage of such nutrition is advisable when available during ventures into second tier cities, as subsistence on dried goose necks and duck feet is questionable.

During my time in Ningpo I had the opportunity to stay in a villa. In my case, the locals have basically taken the concept of the suburbs and applied their shoddy construction and architecture techniques while neglecting any form of property maintenance. The result being what you see below.

My first destination was a park in downtown. Unlike most urban parks in China, it was not named People’s Park, Zhongshan Park, or even Olympic Park. This one was named Moon Park, to compliment the Sun Park which also existed somewhere in the city. It was pleasant, and relatively serene for a Chinese park on a weekend. It had the usual things, a man made lake, restored old buildings, and flocks of people getting their wedding pictures done in horrible outfits.

I much prefer chaos and destruction, so on I went to the part of the old city that had a thing for balls…of the wrecking variety. It was here where I found a number of Qing and Republican era structures in various states of defiance, decay and demolition. Speaking with a few of the remaining residents, I gleaned that what was still standing would probably be renovated into a gauche “lifestyle area” for global franchises and consumer drones. A pity, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles for heritage architecture in China.

Wandering further through the ruins, I came upon a Buddhist temple that seemed photogenic enough, so I forked over the ¥5 to get in and sneak around. I came across a monk who was quite surprised to find me in his study hall, which was clearly a place I wasn’t supposed to be in, but instead of kicking me out quite literally, as monks are wont to do, he was excited to have someone to practice his English with. I complied with his wishes for fear of his wrath, and confirmed my suspicions that the monks did not eat meat, drink alcohol, or listen to Fucked Up.

After parting ways with my karmic yet musically unenlightened friend, I negotiated my way through some twisty old alleys to find myself at the Tianyi Pavilion, perhaps Ningpo’s most famous historical landmark. The pavilion dates back to 1992, when the local government was devising a method to trap more tourists into a bleak and rather featureless city they had no reason to visit the 16th century, when a gentleman by the name of Fan Qin was devising a method to store his vast collection of erotic fiction novels. It is said that this is the oldest surviving library in China. Unfortunately it seems the Toronto Public Library card does not enjoy reciprocal privileges here, as my attempt to borrow some of the aforementioned novels did not go over well with the security guards and their hounds. Thankfully my gym membership card does have reciprocal benefits here in China, and I’ve got my mile times down to five minutes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some reading to do.

Filed under: tourist shit