China's got a lot of national holidays (thirteen? I believe?). Shanghai, conveniently, has a wealth of weekend getaways within a two-hour radius. I booked a train ticket and a room in a hostel on the edge of the mythically iconic West Lake in Hangzhou for Labor Day (commemorated ironically with two labor-less days), and left the city on Thursday afternoon. The seventy-eight minute ride was disappointingly devoid of scenic counsel, and I was a little jarred to find, upon arrival, that this, the capital of Zhejiang Province, wasn't the idyllic isle I'd imagined, but rather a cosmopolitan that so strongly resembled Shanghai, it was difficult to feel that I'd left. Following a couple hours of directional mishaps (there always are), I found myself in the bustling shopping district that passerbys alleged to be near to the lake. Following a couple more hours of meandering through glitzy WuShan park and bar-studded QingBoMen, I located the hostel, and was informed that my bed had been reassigned, on account of my missing my check-in appointment by, let's see, five? hours. I opted to sleep on the sofa in the lounge, beside two collie puppies for the night, and was permitted to do so free of charge. I'd been on my feet for many hours, and slept quite immediately and soundly.
The following morning, I packed books and bikini and strolled the fifteen kilometer periphery of the lake, pausing at pleasant-seeming grass patches to progress in my reading, or to nap. It was lovely:
After sundown, I found a cafe and a blind massage parlor, and indulged appetite, shoulders, respectively.
I took a bus on the third morning to Lingyin Temple. The Temple itself is scattered along the down-slope of North Peak (sadly, the Chinese never name with pizazz). I followed the signs, unaware that an hour-long uphill hike would be there to gauge my commitment to seeing the sixteen-hundred year old Buddhist "soul's retreat".
The view from the top:
By the time I began the descent, my desire to tour a temple had waned, so I instead lunched in the surrounding village before returning to West Lake.
The last evening was spent like the one before it, sunbathing and reading, interspersed with the occasional dip. It was lovely, and by the time my sunburned, urban return rolled around the next morning, I was sufficiently brown and drowsy; weakened from a terribly relaxing weekend.
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