Xuzhou was stop three, Suqian stop four. They sit close together, so I ran them back to back over a weekend.
Xuzhou calls itself the hometown of emperors; Suqian is the hometown of Xiang Yu. One produced rulers, the other produced a warlord. What I actually felt on the ground was something else: Xuzhou is hard, Suqian is soft.
Xuzhou: full speed first
The first thing I did in Xuzhou was go-karting. Helmet down, kart on the ground, and the brain immediately narrowed to braking points and the next corner.
The steering was heavy and the tyres complained the whole time. A few laps in, my palms were red and my head was clear.
An afternoon at the zoo
In the afternoon I went to the zoo. Two peacocks stood perfectly still on a wooden perch, so blue it looked unreal. An alpaca stared into the shade with the permanent half-smile of its species. Further in, a sika deer watched people through the wire.
I had not simply looked at animals like that in a long time.
Suqian: metasequoia and water lilies
The next day, Suqian. I went out to the wetlands, where metasequoia stood in rows in the shallows, roots underwater, floating leaves everywhere. Small clusters of purple flowers pushed up between them.
After the noise of the go-kart track, the pace dropped away. Wind moved through the trees, the water kept shifting, and everything was very quiet.
A wall called South
Later, walking through the city, I came across a very old wall. Two big red characters had been painted on it: “South Wall” — the wall you hit when you refuse to turn around. Beside them, a smaller line: “The wall has been hit; the story has been forgotten.”
I stood there for a while. Everyone has to hit that wall a few times before learning which road not to take. Being able to laugh afterwards and say the story is forgotten is its own kind of skill.
Two days, two cities, one loud and one quiet. Stops three and four, done. Still on the road.
Life needs less overthinking. Do more. Feel more.
