The airport is about
35 km out of the city. What struck me as we flew over miles and miles of city
tracked by seemingly endless grids of brightly lit wide highways is the sheer
scale of development that has gone on here over the last few decades. The plane
taxied for ages across tarmac past several terminal buildings and hundreds of
planes belong to a myriad of different carriers. Heading into the city along
one of those highways, I kept thinking I could see hills on the horizon until I
worked out that I was seeing was the lights twinkling at the top of scattered
forests of multi-storey towers. Seemed like 12-lane roads all the way, roads
lined all the way with street lights decorated with red lights in arrangements
resembling Chines lanterns or tassels.
The total state power
bill must be beyond astronomical. They must have to stagger the turning on of
street lights in the evenings to avoid a massive fuse blowout. I saw quite a
few old roof-mounted solar water-heater panels, but no other evidence of solar,
yet official figures say 30% of China’s power now comes from solar sources. On
the other hand, all but a very few of the motor-bikes and other two and three
wheeled vehicles were electric (blessedly quiet, but they sneak up behind you
on the footpaths). Most of the buses were electric too. I didn’t see any public
charging stations, so I’m not sure how that happens – maybe people take the
batteries home with them for recharging? Just one of the many puzzling things I
saw. The faster the rest of the world catches up with quiet vehicles the
better, as far as I’m concerned.
Xi'an is one of the oldest cities in China and
it’s right in the middle. As every description of the place says, it is the Eastern gateway of the Silk Road. So it
has always been an international hub, welcoming traders and diplomats from
afar, and now welcoming tourists with equanimity, if not exactly warmth. The wealth that grew from trade,
especially trade in silk (and no doubt, weapons) for horses, was such that
successive Emperors (73 of them!) have reigned from here. As a wealthy centre from
which power has radiated out in all directions it has been hotly contested. Ironic,
no, that the old name for the city is Changán, meaning Perpetual Peace.
Hence the reason the old part of the city is
surrounded by 14 km of walls dotted with watchtowers and defended with massive double-jeopardy
style gates and surrounded by a wide moat. I did the standard tourist thing and
rented a bike to judder my way around the whole wide wall on the cobblestones.
It was surprisingly peaceful. This was one of the only times that I saw other
gui lo (red devils) in Xian.
East Gate |
The replica watchtowers along the wall now house spotlessly clean toilets |
The city has a couple of other highly-visible historical
symbols, like the beautifully-lit pagoda I could see from my 20th
floor hotel room but overwhelmingly, Xian has a thoroughly modern pulse. With a
population of somewhere upwards of 12 million it is a vast, exciting, noisy
city, growing rapidly if the number of cranes is anything to go by. It makes
sense that in a place that has so well fortified in the past, military
industries would be important, and modern Xi'an is now a centre
for aerospace and military technologies, as well as education and research.
There are 56 universities. Artificial Intelligence, nanotechnologies and robotics
are among the growth industries. It is probably one of the safest places in the
world to be a tourist.
Construction
and tourism. Millions of tourists - in 2016, 150 million of them, with 80%
being domestic visitors. The discovery of the terracotta warriors in 1974 set
off a tide of rubberneckers. Xi'an is also the place where the lunar new year was
first celebrated, so it is a special place for Chinese visitors during
the holiday period. The local authorities clearly are doing their best to
capitalise on that reputation, with huge installations to celebrate the Year of
the Pig in many of the public spaces.
Around
the city, every park and open space seemed to be undergoing renovation and
renewal, including adding musical fountains, light installations, themed
pavilions, green walls, seasonal plant beds and more. I went to Lian Hu Park in
the middle of the old city which was supposed to be a local oasis where you can
enjoy lots of spring blossoms and peaceful lotus ponds. I negotiated my way
around an almost-completed huge indoor roller-skating rink to find that most of
the park was a building site and the ‘lake’ completely drained. Yet in the bits
that could be walked, it was all happening. Ballroom dancing. Individuals doing
tai chi. Old men with birds in cages. A cluster doing some sort of folk dancing
or salsa maybe, some dressed in costume – Slavic? Flamenco? Middle Eastern?
Hard to tell with the scratchy amplification and opposing tinny notes from a
wee orchestra of old men sawing at mysterious instruments and a woman with a
microphone screeching out some extraordinary Chinese opera song that to my ear
sounded unnaturally discordant. That lot were drawing a good crowd of old folk
though. And just beside them, a younger group being loudly directed in Step or
some other sort of synchronised exercising to bouncy music. In between, kiddies
on wee bikes running amok in the early spring haze that could almost be called
sunshine.
Everywhere
I went was amazingly clean. I’m certain there are whole armies of cleaners,
sweepers and rubbish collectors employed to keep it like this. Minimal
graffiti, tidy pavements, discrete rubbish bins. It seems like western cities
could learn lessons here, surely a street sweeping or butt-picking job would be
preferable to begging for many folk?
Butts.
Smoking. It’s banned in the entire City Wall precinct but that only means that
the toilets reek of sneaky puffing. In the apartment block where my hotel was
there were No Smoking signs everywhere and yet the smell of smoke lingered
constantly. There were ashtrays in the rooms and trays of butts at the end of
the corridors. Men lighting up as they got out of the lift, before they even
made out of the lobby. Men. Now I think about it, I can’t remember seeing any
women smoking. It was almost a shock at the airport in Madrid to see young
women lighting up.