A Pair of Panties and Boxers

Running on an hour of sleep, I woke up and met the floor with my face. I trampled over the bag I tossed an hour ago when I plummeted into bed. In a hurry, I brushed my teeth, put on the first thing I grabbed, snatched the bag off the floor and biked to Guanghua Lou for a one day trip to Wuzhen.

One by one, our group trickled in looking sluggish and lethargic.  They were all hungover from the previous night. The bus ride to Wuzhen was a tease. I couldn’t get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Everyone around me was way too lively. But before I knew it, two hours had passed and we arrived in Wuzhen.

Wuzhen is a water town built around rivers and canals and lined with wooden hut houses. Even on a cloudy day, the small arced bridges and low hanging tree leaves gave the place a down-to-earth charm. We maneuvered through the narrow winding stone paved streets. Peering in between the buildings, I was able to catch fleeting glimpses of the river water. Residential houses were found in between the nooks and crannies of the small shops and factories.

My first stop was the hand-made noodle shop adjacent to the opera house. The man in the shop pulled and looped and pulled and looped until the slab of dough he was kneading turned into a handful of stringy noodles. He enjoyed having us observe him at his craft and he posed with a genuinely big smile.

After a while, hunger kicked in and we had a sudden urge to recharge. For lunch, we feasted at a local restaurant that left me comatosed. But the tour was only half over. Afterward, we visited a workshop that produced silk dyed cloths. Wuzhen has a tradition of weaving and dyeing. The yard near the shop was filled with blue waves of silk being air dried on bamboo sticks.

Wuzhen is also well known for their yellow wine, which is produced and sold in town. By the time we arrived at the wine factory, it was around 7 and I was ready to collapse. I somehow managed to drag my feet to our designated meeting place. I plopped down on the benches. My body refused to let me move anymore.

Sitting near the Tongxiang Flower Drum Opera stage, I caught the end of a local performance. As I listened with my eyes closed, I dreamt of my soft white pillow and comfy sheets.

Tags: China, Wuzhen