Eighty-eight The Ends of the Earth

At last, the coastline came into view, and the scattered lights below grew more numerous. As soon as I stepped off the plane, I was enveloped by the island’s unique, humid heat. Xiao Gang, Candy, and her father had been waiting at the exit for quite some time; because I had previously given the wrong flight number, they’d waited an extra hour, which made me feel rather apologetic.

Seated in Candy’s father’s car, I switched my phone back on.

“How strange, there’s still no signal?” I muttered to myself.

Zhang Qi leaned over and glanced at my phone. “Did you remember to activate roaming outside the province?”

His reminder suddenly enlightened me. I quickly borrowed his phone and called home. About half an hour later, my mother called back to say that roaming was now activated.

After restarting my phone, it finally worked. The airport was close to the city center. Candy’s father drove us to the entrance of a hotel, where Candy had already booked rooms for us, so it didn’t take long before we received our room cards at the front desk.

After the exhausting journey, although we’d eaten on the plane, so much time had passed that we were hungry again. Since we were near the city center, Candy took us to a nearby Hong Kong-style restaurant. We chose a table by the window, ordered a few dishes, and devoured them ravenously, watched all the while by a group of staff anxiously awaiting closing time.

Haikou truly is a strange city—just after nine, shops on the street began shutting their doors. With nowhere to go after dinner, Zhang Qi and I had no choice but to return to the hotel for some sleep. Xiao Gang was staying at Candy’s house, so the four of us said our goodbyes at the restaurant entrance and went our separate ways.

Early the next morning, Xiao Gang and his wife came with Candy’s aunt to pick us up. After dim sum at a nearby restaurant, Candy’s aunt dropped us off at the long-distance bus station.

Today, our journey would take us from Haikou to Sanya, crossing the Tropic of Cancer—a distance of nearly 300 kilometers. We’d heard that all highways in Hainan had no toll stations, and that the expressways were directly connected to city roads, which we found rather novel.

Instead of heading straight to Sanya, we bought tickets to Qionghai, home to the world-renowned Boao Forum for Asia. Just a few years ago, Boao was an obscure fishing village, but everything changed with the arrival of the Asian Forum.

Summer is Hainan’s low tourist season, and since we set out early, our group of four was the only one on the Boao tourist bus.

“It’s practically our private ride!” Candy said, delighted, unable to resist a joke.

But our excitement didn’t last long before torrential rain suddenly started pouring down outside the window. All thoughts of sightseeing vanished, and we spent the journey desperately hoping the rain would stop. Fortunately, luck was on our side; by the time we reached Boao Zen Monastery, the rain had already begun to let up.

We dashed through the drizzle to the ticket office, bought our tickets, and took a couple of photos at the entrance. To our surprise, the rain stopped completely and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

Temples are much the same everywhere; from beginning to end, I didn’t notice anything particularly special. As we hadn’t come for the temple itself, we quickly moved on to our next destination—Jade Belt Beach.

Here, several rivers including the Wanquan converge and flow into the sea. The sandbar we were heading to by boat is the famous Jade Belt Beach. It forms a natural boundary between river and ocean—the left side of the sandbar is river, the right side is sea—an extraordinary sight unique in the world. The boat drifted slowly along the river as we marveled at everything, snapping photos left and right, quickly filling up our camera memory cards.

Stepping onto the sandbar, we found ocean waves crashing energetically on the outer side, while the river inside shimmered with gentle ripples—a beauty beyond words. Amid laughter and play, we soon reached the tip of the sandbar, where the river and sea met in a dramatic confluence, neither yielding to the other. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed such a magnificent scene existed.

By noon, the coolness after the rain had long since vanished under the blazing sun. Gazing across the water at the Boao Forum for Asia, I saw several white tents shaped like sails forming the main architectural lines—dynamic yet elegant. Unfortunately, the forum was not open to visitors at the time, which left us with a tinge of regret.

Back in Qionghai, we didn’t linger. After a quick lunch at the KFC opposite the bus station, we immediately boarded a bus to Sanya. The highway to Sanya runs along the coast, lined with coconut trees unique to the island. The scenery was so different from what we were used to that the journey didn’t feel tiring at all. By dusk, we finally arrived in Sanya.

After waiting a few minutes in the square outside the station, Candy’s uncle came to pick us up.

The guesthouse we’d reserved online was in a luxurious neighborhood, very close to the sea—just across the road, in fact. At the entrance, we called the innkeeper, who appeared in less than three minutes.

Following him, we entered an apartment building and took the elevator to the twenty-second floor.

“This is your room,” the innkeeper said, unlocking the door and gesturing us inside.

The interior was nicely furnished with good lighting. Pulling open the floor-to-ceiling curtains, we were greeted by a vast expanse of ocean—and we could even see Sanya’s famous Deer Turning Back scenic spot.

Everything was to our satisfaction. After collecting the deposit, the innkeeper went off to show Xiao Gang and his wife their room.

The next morning, I woke up and stepped onto the balcony just in time to watch the sunrise. The sea, gilded by the morning glow, put me in a wonderful mood. As agreed the night before, we gathered at the neighborhood entrance at seven sharp, and Candy’s uncle drove us to Nanshan Cultural Park.

Nanshan’s most famous attraction is the Nanhai Guanyin statue standing by the sea. It is said the entire statue cost over a hundred million yuan to build and rivals the Statue of Liberty in the United States. Unlike the Statue of Liberty, which stands on an island facing the ocean, the Guanyin here stands with her back to the sea, facing the land.

The craftsmanship was exquisite—gentle lines yet full of dignity, truly magnificent. The vegetarian cuisine of Nanshan is also famous; seeing dishes made entirely from plant-based ingredients but resembling chicken, duck, fish, and meat made our mouths water.

After Nanshan, at my strong urging, we visited Daxiao Dongtian. Xiao Gang and Candy seemed exhausted; after a cursory look at Xiao Dongtian, they retreated to the shade for a rest.

Beside Xiao Dongtian was a mountain path. Energized, Zhang Qi and I climbed up. Halfway up, we unexpectedly found a pine tree protected by an iron fence. Reading the sign, we realized that this ordinary tree was the legendary “Pine of Longevity” from the saying “as long-lived as the Nanshan pine.” Its branches were covered in red ribbons symbolizing long life—a beautiful sight.

We were just about to continue to the summit when I received a call from Xiao Gang urging us to come back down. With no choice, we took a quick photo with the pine for keepsake and hurried downhill.

Both Xiao Gang and Candy complained of fatigue. After some discussion, they decided to return to the inn to rest, while Zhang Qi and I headed to the End of the Earth and the Corner of the Sea.

Hainan’s weather is truly unpredictable. Just moments ago it was clear and sunny, but suddenly the sky darkened. We’d barely reached the beach when a heavy downpour began. Without umbrellas and with nowhere to shelter on the vast sands, we hurriedly wrapped our cameras and phones in our clothes, stuffed everything in our backpacks, and sheltered the bags with our bodies as we sprinted aimlessly across the beach. Eventually, we found a small digital photo booth—with a single, not-very-large sunshade already sheltering a dozen tourists. With nowhere else to go, we squeezed ourselves halfway under, grateful for any cover.

What rain we avoided yesterday, we made up for today. The downpour lasted an hour. Thankfully, our spare clothes stayed dry, so we changed and, soaked and bedraggled, pressed on toward the End of the Earth.

First, we passed the “Southern Pillar” that appears on the two-yuan banknote—a landmark we couldn’t possibly skip. After the rain, the beach was nearly empty, letting us enjoy the view and take photos without crowds. Otherwise, on a normal day, you’d hardly know if you were photographing the landscape or just the people.

Beyond the Southern Pillar, we could see our ultimate destination at the far end of the beach—the End of the Earth and the Corner of the Sea. In reality, it’s just a few large rocks by the shore, with “End of the Earth” carved on the side facing the beach, and “Corner of the Sea” on the side facing the ocean, marking the southernmost tip of mainland China. It was a little underwhelming, but since we’d come all this way, we took the requisite photos with the inscriptions and then hurried back.

(Chapter revision completed on October 15, 2010)