The water village of Xi'Tang was a dreamy maze of ancient canals, boats, stone facades, incense-perfumed temples, red lanterns, narrow alleyways and market stalls, packed with sights, sounds and scents that tantalized at every turn. From the wafting odor of an elderly woman frying up Stinky Tofu outside her doorway to the splashing rhythm of the garbage collection junk's oars to the vision of a local washing her laundry in the canal...
...the village beguiled. It wasn't exactly the "the Venice of the Orient," but it was picturesque and haunting all the same.
And, at my earnest behest, my guide agreed to let us stay in Xi'Tang for lunch, forgoing gloppy turistica Chinese-American fare on the road back to Shanghai for a more authentic meal at the Quiantang Hotel, where we dug into delicacies such as Fresh Waterchestnuts with Edamame...
Glistening Pork Shoulder Baked in Lotus Leaves...
...and a rich Duck Soup, chock full of tempting Duck Dumplings, bobbing chunks of ginger and the occasional duck foot or two...
Lunch was almost as exquisite as the scenery.
Almost.
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