Ming-era city walls Qufu [Photo by Bruce Connolly/chinadaily.com.cn]

After dinner I walked around the surrounding neighborhood. It was very quiet, reminding me of earlier years where I spent considerable time in smaller Chinese cities and towns. That day in Qufu I heard no car horns nor witnessed any traffic jams. This was small-city China where life remained more traditional, more laid-back than the megacities that tend to characterize the country's contemporary urban scene. With an urban population around 60,000 and administrative numbers just over 600,000, Qufu's influence both domestically and internationally however is way beyond its size. I have often advocated the importance to visit lesser well-known cities. Exciting developments are often taking place there while they also present contrasting aspects of China away from normal urban stereotypes.

That evening sitting again on my balcony, I absorbed a city going to sleep. There was virtually no sound with tranquility descending such that would indeed allow a very restful night.

Early morning, before dawn, I was photographing from my balcony the moon reflected on the still waters of the Yi River. It was a spellbinding scene of which classical Chinese poets would have surely gained inspiration. Gradually as light started filling the sky, I watched people performing morning exercise within a nearby park amid ginkgo trees wrapped in their delightful autumnal gold and orange. Music, as if from an earlier dynasty, rose up from some of the larger templelike structures. Again, I had this feeling of tranquility I was quickly absorbing in Qufu.

The sky turning blue, I headed off for a pre-breakfast walk by the river. I reached a pavilion overlooking willow trees with their branches, still holding green leaves, drooping down toward the waters. Local people were arriving by bicycle, some to exercise, others just to chat. Indeed I noticed a higher ratio of bicycles, both pedal and electric than in major centers. The city is flat, its traffic levels low, and the tree-lined roads are quiet and wide, making it just perfect for cycling or in my case, walking. Indeed I could spend so much time walking slowly, reaching arched bridges while capturing with my camera the combination of water and vegetation in its different seasonal shades rising between white-walled buildings characteristic of water towns.

As a geographer, I wondered if the flat alluvial terrain of the Qufu area had indeed been influenced by the Yellow River's many historic course changes. Its regular floods deposited alluvium while the hills near Qufu had at one time maybe been islands? It certainly looked that way for there are plenty of waterways in the area, some of which appeared navigable by small boat. Indeed Qufu’s name literally translates as "crooked hill”, referring to a kilometer-long hill within its then urban area. That was during a time as capital of the State of Lu within the Spring and Autumn period. Then the city walls were considerably larger than the Ming-era fortifications that remain today for it included a greater land area both east and north.

The concept of a small, walled city existing through historic times in this vast agricultural plain certainly attracted me. It was time to head north up Datong Road. That area is quickly becoming a busy community of small shops and restaurants, quite similar to other parts of China, although such comparisons faded after crossing Jingxuan Middle Road. I had reached Gulou South Street, "Gulou" meaning the Drum Tower. Along with Zhonglou, or Bell Tower, such structures performed important elements within early Chinese urban life. They were timekeepers when people had no clocks or watches. That street was lined with shops, restaurants and cafes at a higher level than Qufu's size would normally warrant, surely a response to its largely seasonal tourist foot traffic.