Purple Mountain

I set off this morning to grab some breakfast and then take a little hike.  I bought a 糯米烧卖 (steamed glutinous rice dumpling, or should it be a "gluttonous" rice dumpling?  They're so tasty!) and a 馒头 (steamed bread).  In my mind I was planning a little 3 mile jaunt, but because it's never any fun to turn back, I found myself on a 7 mile trek.  I was not alone, mind you; this is China.  On the way up through the mix of bamboo and deciduous forest, I passed a harmonica group performing patriotic favorites to a riveted crowd.  W, what you are missing out on now for not taking the harmonica seriously!  I never noticed this in the past hiking in China, but people like to play their music players out loud for their friends and family (and anyone else) to hear.  The older folks sing along to old ballads. The younger folks blast Beyonce and Asian pop.  It looks like some of them are using their cell phones for this function.  I can't decide if it's any better in the U.S..  Walking amongst zombies with headphones on OR being forced to listen to Linkin Park while trying to enjoy your bamboo forest?  Rather than trying to commune with nature, one just has to accept people-watching as part of the deal.  On the way, I passed the first astronomical observatory constructed in East Asia (so they say).  It was built in 1934 and has in turn been used by the Nationalists (I assume) and the Communists for research and is now a cultural site.  Despite the advertised view of Nanjing from the observatory being "too beautiful for eyes," I decided to move on. 

There's a photo of a pillbox bunker that was constructed to prevent the Japanese from advancing up the mountain.  Ah, nature. 

From the top of the mountain (448 m above sea level), you can see Xuanwu Lake, Nanjing, and just a wisp of the Yangtze River, through the smog/clouds.  If you squint, you might be able to see the first major bridge that the Communist Chinese constructed without Soviet technical engineering assistance.  This is also where I found the man reading the newspaper upside down.  I did a little reading myself, but my reading was performed right-side-up.  (I started The Diving Bell and the Butterfly while I was up there. I haven't finished it, but I recommend it wholeheartedly anyway.)

I was impressed by how little trash was left by the wayside.  There were signs everywhere reminding people to love nature and take responsibility for protecting the forest.  I saw 4-5 mountain bikers decked out in full spandex and sport sunglasses.  At least 50% of people wore activity appropriate clothes and shoes (When will women stop hiking in heels?).  I didn't see any smoking.  There were no hawkers along the path, except for three people selling cucumbers.  Can it be that times have changed? Granted, most people taking these paths sounded local based on their accents.  This would make sense since the Sun Yatsen Mausoleum and the Ming tombs would draw out-of-town tourists to a different part of the park where tickets are required.  Some things don't change, however.  I spent ten minutes trying to figure out what a "ropeway" was.  Evidently, ropeway = "risky looking cable car."  Of course!  It's not a Chinese mountain without a cable car, which, to me, sounds exactly the same as "lazy car" in Chinese. 缆 vs 懒.