Eight Hours in Nanjing (with apologies to Chris)

I have only woken up voluntarily at 6am a handful of times since I’ve lived here, but last Tuesday in the spirit of adventure I rolled out of bed, threw on my clothes and headed into the misty morning towards Shanghai’s main train station. The streets were hushed as I walked to the subway, but the train station bustled with people as I made my way to the 7:38 express train to Nanjing.

The ride itself was fairly uneventful. The man next to me fell asleep and wound up putting his head on my left shoulder (despite constant shrugging) and my right shoulder got soaked when someone put a wet umbrella right above my head. Other than that – no issues.

When I told people I was going to Nanjing, to a person, they all said, “Alone?!” And I would laugh and say, “Of course! It’s a Tuesday, I’m not worried, I’m a grown-up and I want to take a trip.” Traveling alone is so different than traveling with someone else. You’re not tied to another schedule, another stomach, but you have no one to share the views with or take your picture. Nanjing’s train station is located next to a very pretty lake and park. I headed out to take a peek and noticed the light rain falling. The rain became my companion for the day, following me to each of the sites. We suited each other well – my mood was subdued and it kept many other people from being tourists so it provided me a private tour of sorts.

Because of the rain, my first destination MingXiaoLing was almost deserted. I walked the grand pathway to the tomb almost alone, wondering at the carved stone elephants, lions, unicorns and other animals. It’s on a high mountain above the city. I could hear no cars and smell the rain on the trees. I wandered for almost two hours and then attempted to take a bus to the city center. The very nice man at the bus stop assured me that the #9 would take me there, but after 25 minutes I got off and took a cab to my next destination – The Nanjing Holocaust Memorial.

The Memorial was recently renovated and just reopened in December. It is striking and elegant, hopeful and horrifying. At one point walking through the exhibition hall I thought I was going to vomit as I stared at the skeleton of a young woman whose head and pelvis had been pierced by nails prior to being shot. Over 300,000 people died during those weeks and the museum is at the site of a mass grave of 10,000 people. At the end after all the horror is a calm reflecting pool and magnificent statue for peace. There were paper cranes everywhere as the rain continued to fall.

A second bus ride (I had to try again) led me to the city center where I found a late lunch. I then explored the Confucian Temple and its grounds. Turns out I went through everything backwards, ended at the beginning, but I saw lots of neat things including examples of traditional crafts. I posed for pictures with a little girl whose parents wanted to remember the strange foreigner in the glasses and with a woman from Guangdong who couldn’t believe I spoke any Chinese at all. By accident I heard a traditional musical performance and got an almost solo demonstration. The statue of Confucius in front of the temple was so kind and wise, very approachable. I had someone take my picture next to one of his disciples (Duanmu Ci) who is the philosopher in charge of languages. Figured a little good language karma (I know, that’s the wrong religion) couldn’t hurt. After wandering around the bazaar I eventually took the subway back to the train station, ready to go home.

Questions – Do you like to travel alone? What’s been your favorite solo trip? What did you learn about yourself?

My parents arrive today (Thursday) and after spending a couple of days in Shanghai we will be traveling together until the 28th. The 29th I’ll be heading back stateside, so it might take me a while to update the end of the trip. Maybe I will have them do a guest post. Hope you all are well.

G