Xiamen on China’s south-east coast is a modern, green, harbor city, the recipient of several recent international environmental awards and considered by many to be China’s most livable city. It was one of the first five ports forcibly opened to international trade following the 1st Opium War in the 1840s. Wealthy foreign traders and missionaries flocked in, forever changing the character of the place that reached its colonial heyday in the early 20th Century when the winding, undulating streets were walked by prosperous merchants and their lackeys, and lined with high-walled colonial mansions set in neatly manicured sub-tropical gardens.
Just 700 metres across the water from Xiamen city sits the small island of Gulangyu, aptly described by one visitor as an amalgam of several faraway places. The 19th century missionaries brought with them a love of music that flourished, and Gulangyu is still often referred to as Piano Isle, having the highest per capita ownership of pianos in Asia. There are no cars on Gulangyu, enhancing its already peaceful atmosphere. On Friday we walked up and down and around many of the island’s winding, balmy, tree-shaded alleyways, and it wasn’t hard to see past the decaying mansions and conjure up a mental image of the colonial splendor that once existed here, albeit on the back of the infamous opium trade forced onto China. What a strange, quaint place.
We walked on the island’s southern beach and stopped for dinner at a beachside café. It was dark when we made it back to the dock on the other side of the island to take the return ferry to Xiamen; we had tarried on the way to sit under a sprawling fig tree and listen to piano music that wafted down on the humid breeze from an open lit window above. We also stopped briefly to chat with the pastor of one of Gulangyu’s several protestant churches. He spoke good English and introduced himself when we poked our noses through the open front doors for a look inside. He was born in Inner Mongolia but has been a Xiamen resident now for many years. He was just about to lead a seminar on parenting and a few attendees were already seated inside. We took our leave and continued down to the dock to join the large crowd about to surge on to the next ferry that was coming alongside.
Just two kilometres further out to sea, and visible from Xiamen, sits the larger island of Jinmen that has a very surprising administration. Xiamen of course sits on the Chinese side of the Taiwan Straits; 180 km across the water is Taiwan. Relations between the two have warmed noticeably in recent times and hopefully the issues between them will be resolved peacefully. If not, Xiamen wouldn’t be the comfortable place to visit it is today. Jinmen Island’s surprise is that although it is practically in Xiamen Harbour, and 180 km distant from Taiwan, it is occupied and controlled by the Taiwanese! It seems surprising (to someone admittedly ignorant of all the political realities) that China has not taken control of this island before now. These days it’s possible to take a short ferry ride to Jinmen from Xiamen, but according to some traveler reports it’s not particularly interesting apart from the presence of several thousand Taiwanese troops and steel spikes along the beach to hinder any possible invasion. We eschewed Jinmen in favour of another day on Gulangyu but when we got to the ferry dock we learned that all ferries were suspended due to approaching Typhoon Morakot. We returned to our room in the Spring Sunlight Hotel across the road from the dock and the maid knocked on our door soon after to tell us to secure our windows as wet and wild weather was expected overnight.
Sunday we were confined to quarters as the storm howled around the streets but come Monday the waters had calmed and we joined the large crowd surging back over to Gulangyu. We explored the remaining section of the isle and walked along the swimming beaches where the swimmers were far outnumbered by the tour group day-trippers gathered along the shore, dipping their toes in the water.
