There have been some mildly interesting weather phenomena while I’ve been living here in China. I’ve already expounded upon the mildness of the winter (a conclusion that I admit now was a bit premature), but there is something else interesting about the air over (t)here. Photographic evidence has been accruing steadily. There is a pattern emerging. It seems each time I travel throughout China, I’m accompanied by a heavy layer of fog. Whether the fog and I are along for the same ride or merely crossing paths is still undetermined. But there is a noticeable trend of my arrival in any new city here in China (and this includes my first setting foot in this country, in Shanghai) coinciding with the arrival of a dense fog. And what’s more remarkable is that each time I leave a city, I’m chased out of town by blue skies. Such was the case in Nanjing.
When I arrived it was in the pissings of rain; not an ideal atmosphere for bitter-cold January. The next three days passed with little sunshine and even less visibility. For all I knew, Nanjing’s skyline could have been as modest and underwhelming as the profile of my home base, LianYunGang. But sure enough, when I left town on Saturday morning, I could see for miles in each direction the winking faces of the steel and glass monoliths that populate Nanjing. Nanjing is as modern and high-tech as they come, but you’re still able to find the pleasant touch of nature.
I spent a whole day getting lost around the hillocks and valleys of the Purple Mountain. And this natural preserve is a mere twenty minutes out of town by bike. Along with the city’s friendly and green-thumbed neighbor, the streets of Nanjing are amiable and open. I’ve made brief mention of the diversity that can be found throughout the city, but that list didn’t account for the hidden treasures. Nanjing is home to the only authentic Mexican restaurant I’ve seen in China. Now I haven’t been everywhere, but I’m pretty comfortable in saying that a real Mexican place, complete with live guitar, plucking out the cascading and racing notes of latin music, is in very short supply in China. Yes, the excellent guitar can play a game of pick-up soccer with your ears, and in the meantime you can enjoy the most pleasant un-invited dinner guest, the plucky chocolate lab that comes by to collect the leftovers.
Not in the mood for a margarita with your burrito? Then why not catch a taxi over to Finnegan’s Wake, an authentic Irish pub and also the best place for good craic in Nanjing. Choose one of the forty different blends of Scotch or go with the standard Guinness. Either way, you can’t lose.
Rory Keane is an American-born teacher and writer who has logged nearly two years in China, and is working on another year-long stint in the Middle Kingdom. He writes about travel, sociopolitical issues, health, entertainment, and culture, among other topics.
