A 5-Day Field Note of Guangzhou

Lingnan Between Old Lane Charms and New City Neon

· 用户游记

Check HERE to customize your Guangzhou Trip

If you’re planning your trip to China, your itinerary probably includes Beijing and Shanghai. And that's correct—Beijing is China's history museum, majestic and profound; Shanghai is China's modern showcase, brilliant and trendy.

But today, I’m letting you in on a secret that many overlook: Guangzhou is China’s "Living Cultural Textbook." If Beijing and Shanghai represent China's "face," Guangzhou is its "stomach and heart," the place where you truly slow down and feel the soul of the country.

If you’re tired of crowds and standardized sights, and if you truly crave to understand how real Chinese people eat, enjoy life, and weave two millennia of history into their daily routine, then you must turn your attention to this Millennium Commercial Capital—Guangzhou.

When you come to Guangzhou, don't just check off a list; come with the attitude of "living like a local." My suggested route is built around four dimensions: Taste, History, Global Footprint, and Local Rhythm.

Day 1: Grey Sculptures in Xiguan and Cantonese Opera with Dragon Boats at Liwan Lake

At 7 a.m., on Zhongshan 7th Road, aerial roots of banyan trees dangled from the columns of arcade houses. Joggers stepped on the bluestone pavement, their shoe soles occasionally kicking off kapok petals tucked in the cracks of bricks. As the vermilion-lacquered door of Chen Clan Ancestral Hall opened, several school groups in uniforms had already gathered outside. Children held magnifying glasses to examine the "Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea" grey sculptures on the lintel—their eyes, made of glazed beads, glistened in the morning light. A tour guide spoke softly into a megaphone: "These grey sculptures are made of paper-fiber mortar mixed with glutinous rice paste, which remains intact for a century. Today, there are fewer than 20 craftsmen in Guangzhou who master the full set of grey sculpture techniques."

Entering the third main hall, one could look up to see the "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix" carved on the wooden beams. The phoenix’s tail feathers, layered through the "through-carving" technique, let sunlight filter through the carved window lattices, casting fragmented shadows on the ground. In the cultural and creative area on the west side, a young shop assistant was printing Cantonese embroidery patterns onto canvas bags. Noticing my attention, they handed me a keychain embroidered with a kapok flower: "This is a collaboration with a Cantonese embroidery intangible cultural heritage studio. We use a simplified version of the ‘gold-coiling embroidery’ technique. Young people like to carry it around—it’s a way to keep old craftsmanship alive in the present."

In the afternoon, I headed to Liwan Lake Park. No sooner had I passed the memorial archway than the melody of Cantonese opera drifted over—the "Cantonese Opera Amateur Troupe" by the lake was warming up. An aunt in a blue cheongsam stood on a stone platform singing The Flower Princess, while an uncle playing the erhu placed a thermos cup in front of him, printed with the words "Liwan Quyi Society." Among the onlookers, some tapped their hands to the rhythm, others recorded videos with their phones. A young man in sportswear said: "I come every week to listen. When I was little, my grandma used to bring me here. Now that she’s gone, being here feels like seeing her again."

Walking south along the lake, one could spot the head of a dragon boat protruding from the water—a replica of the "underwater dragon boat." A nearby information board read: "During the dredging of Liwan Lake in 2011, a dragon boat from the Tongzhi era of the Qing Dynasty (1862–1875) was unearthed. Though its wood had decayed, the painted patterns on its head were still recognizable. The original is now preserved in Liwan Museum, and this replica is taken out every Dragon Boat Festival for the ‘dragon-raising ceremony.’" Several elderly people sat on stone benches by the lake talking about dragon boats: "In the past, we’d wipe the dragon boat with mugwort water before the festival. Now we have new conservation technologies, but the ritual of worshipping during the ‘dragon-raising ceremony’ remains unchanged. We need young people to understand this isn’t superstition—it’s respect for our ancestors."

Day 2: Xiguan Cuisine and European-Style Architecture on Shamian Island

At 8 a.m., on Baohua Road, the glass cabinet of "Yin Ji Cheung Fun Restaurant" was already stacked with white porcelain plates. A chef poured ground rice batter onto a steaming tray; with a flick of his wrist, the batter spread evenly into a thin sheet. He sprinkled shrimp and vegetables on top, and 30 seconds later, lifted the lid, rolled the sheet into a strip with a bamboo spatula, and drizzled soy sauce over it—the whole process was like a smooth dance. I ordered a serving of shrimp cheung fun (steamed rice rolls). The rice skin was tender, the shrimp bouncy, and the soy sauce had a subtle sweetness. An aunt at the adjacent table said: "You should pair cheung fun with tingzai porridge (boatman’s porridge). The porridge at ‘Liwan Famous Food’ next door uses fish fresh from Huangsha Seafood Market this morning—it’s incredibly savory."

Following her directions, I found "Liwan Famous Food" at the alley entrance. Aunt Chen was stirring a large bucket of porridge with a long spoon, and the surface was dotted with peanuts, shredded eggs, and fish slices. "We use Northeast Chinese rice, soaked for three hours in advance. When boiling, you have to stir clockwise—otherwise, it’ll stick to the bottom," she explained. She served me a bowl: the fish slices were as thin as paper, melting in my mouth, and the fragrance of ginger just masked the fishy smell. "In the past, vendors sold tingzai porridge from boats on Liwan Creek. Now the creek has a boardwalk, and the food stalls have become shops, but we still use the same amount of ingredients. Locals come for this original taste," she said.

In the afternoon, I visited Shamian Island. Banyan trees shaded the European-style buildings along the Pearl River. In front of a yellow Gothic church, a newlywed couple was taking wedding photos; the bride, in a white wedding dress, lifted her skirt to step around the century-old granite floor tiles. The "Starbucks on Shamian" at No. 2 Shamian Street retained its original arched windows and wooden floors. While ordering, I noticed old photos hanging on the wall—they showed the building as a foreign firm office in the 1930s; now it’s a "retro café" popular with young people for photos.

Walking along Shamian North Street, I saw the "Former Guangdong Customs Club." Its green shutters exuded a colonial-era style, and a bronze plaque at the entrance read "Built in 1912." Several elderly people sat on benches outside chatting: "In the past, ordinary people weren’t allowed in here. Now it’s an open exhibition hall—they even held a Cantonese embroidery exhibition last month. Old buildings can keep up with the new era too." The aroma of beef offal wafted from a street stall at the corner. Stall owner Ming was cutting beef offal into small pieces with scissors: "I’ve sold beef offal on Shamian for ten years. The soup base simmers with beef bones for six hours, plus star anise and dried tangerine peel. Tourists love it, and locals come back often—they say it’s more flavorful than the ones in restaurants."

Day 3: Modern Landmarks and Pearl River Night Cruise

At 10 a.m., under the Canton Tower, tourists queued up for the Ferris wheel. On the tower’s glass skywalk, some visitors leaned on the railings looking down—the Pearl River curved like a turquoise ribbon around the city. Inside the "Guangzhou Urban Planning Exhibition Hall" on the first floor of the Canton Tower, a huge LED screen played a loop of Guangzhou’s transformation: from low-rise houses in 1949 to today’s skyscrapers. The screen showed Zhujiang New Town, which was farmland a decade ago; now it’s the city’s central business district (CBD).

At noon, I went to Haixinsha. On the lawn of the Asian Games Park, family picnic tents stretched in a line. Children flew kites printed with the Canton Tower pattern. Inside the "Asian Games Museum" at Haixinsha, props from the 2010 Asian Games opening ceremony were still preserved. A guide in a red uniform said: "After the 2010 Asian Games, Haixinsha became a public park. There are light shows here at night, which echo the Canton Tower across the river—it’s truly spectacular."

In the afternoon, I visited the Guangdong Museum. Its "Moonlight Box"-shaped architecture was striking. Inside the "Guangdong Historical and Cultural Exhibition," I saw the jade horn cup unearthed from the Nanyue King’s Tomb, and Canton enamel plates in glass cases, painted with scenes of the bustling Thirteen Hongs (a historical trading district in Guangzhou). In the "Digital Exhibition Hall" on the basement floor, young people wore VR headsets to "travel back" to the Thirteen Hongs of the Qing Dynasty, touching virtual Cantonese embroidery and porcelain. "This kind of exhibition is more engaging than just looking at cultural relics—it helps us understand old Guangzhou better," one visitor said.

At 6 p.m., I boarded the "Pearl River Prince" night cruise ship. The setting sun dyed the river orange-red. As the ship passed the Liede Bridge, the bridge’s lights began to flicker like a string of pearls. In the distance, the Canton Tower lit up with colorful lights, shifting from red to purple, echoing the lights of the skyscrapers in Zhujiang New Town to form a sea of glittering light. Tourists on the deck took photos with their phones; a girl in Hanfu twirled around, her skirt brushing the ship’s side. "It’s my first time in Guangzhou—I never expected the night view to be so beautiful, even livelier than Shanghai’s Bund," she said.

Day 4: Ancient Charms at Lingnan Impression Garden and Baomo Garden

At 9 a.m., at Lingnan Impression Garden, a stone archway at the entrance was carved with the words "Lingnan Impression." Inside, " wok-ear houses" (traditional Lingnan houses with curved eaves) were neatly arranged, and red lanterns hung between their grey tiles and white walls. In the "Cantonese Opera Performance Hall," actors were putting on makeup; a dan (female role) in costume applied sequins to her face while looking in the mirror. "We perform The Search for the Academy twice a day. Tourists enjoy it, and it helps them learn about Cantonese opera culture," she said.

Walking along the "Lingnan Style Street" in the garden, I passed stalls where craftsmen made dough figurines and sugar paintings. An elderly craftsman used malt syrup to draw dragons and phoenixes; children gathered around, their eyes full of anticipation. In the "Cantonese Embroidery Experience Area," a girl in a blue apron taught visitors to embroider kapok flowers. "First, thread the needle with gold thread, then embroider from bottom to top. Even beginners can learn simple stitches and take home their own small pendants," she explained.

In the afternoon, I went to Baomo Garden. A "Zidong Boat" (a traditional Lingnan covered boat) was moored on the lake at the entrance. Inside the garden’s "Zhiben Hall," a portrait of Bao Zheng (a famous upright official in ancient China) hung on the wall; next to it, the "Baomo Treasure Collection" exhibition hall displayed calligraphy and paintings by famous artists from ancient to modern times. Crowds gathered around the "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" porcelain carving—a 62.8-meter-long work fired over three years, with vivid details of figures and boats. "This is the longest porcelain carving in the world now; many tourists come to Baomo Garden just to see it," a guide said.

In the "Rose Garden" of Baomo Garden, flowers were in full bloom. On the corridor by the lake, elderly people practiced calligraphy, while children fed goldfish. On the zigzag bridge over "Lijing Lake," some visitors took photos in Hanfu; in the lake’s reflection, the wok-ear houses and modern pavilions complemented each other. "Baomo Garden has the beauty of a classical garden, but also spots perfect for young people to take photos. Every visit brings something new," a local visitor told me.

Day 5: A Reflection on Tradition and Modernity’s Fusion

In the morning, I sat in the corridor of Chen Clan Ancestral Hall, where sunlight filtered through the wooden windows, casting dappled shadows on my notebook. The Guangzhou I experienced over five days was defined by the melodies of Cantonese opera at Liwan Lake, the blend of European-style architecture and beef offal aromas on Shamian Island, the Pearl River night cruise under the Canton Tower’s lights, and the laughter of children at Lingnan Impression Garden—tradition here is not a specimen in a museum, but lives in the shrimp dumplings of morning tea, in the threads of Cantonese embroidery, and in the dragon boat stories told by the elderly.

Modern Guangzhou has never abandoned its traditions: on Haixinsha’s lawn, elderly people fly kites with kapok patterns (a symbol of old Guangzhou) while accompanying their grandchildren; in the Guangdong Museum’s digital hall, young people use VR to connect with Canton enamel, giving old craftsmanship new forms; beside the skyscrapers of Zhujiang New Town, the melodies of Cantonese opera troupes occasionally drift over—tradition and modernity coexist in harmony here.

A Practical Observation

For visitors to Guangzhou, I recommend a route that balances "Xiguan Style—Modern Landmarks—Lingnan Antiquity":

  1. Xiguan Route (1 day): Admire grey sculptures at Chen Clan Ancestral Hall → Listen to Cantonese opera at Liwan Lake → Taste cheung fun/tingzai porridge on Baohua Road → Wander European-style buildings on Shamian Island—immerse yourself in the rustic charm of old Guangzhou.
  2. Modern Route (1 day): Ride the Ferris wheel at Canton Tower → Have a picnic at Haixinsha → View cultural relics at Guangdong Museum → Take a Pearl River night cruise—experience the city’s contemporary vitality.
  3. Antiquity Route (1 day): Watch Cantonese opera/learn Cantonese embroidery at Lingnan Impression Garden → Appreciate porcelain carvings/wander the garden at Baomo Garden—engage deeply with Lingnan’s traditional culture.

As I left the Canton Tower, night had fallen, and the tower’s lights had turned red, like a beating heart. I know that on my next visit, I might encounter a new Cantonese opera troupe at Liwan Lake, or discover a new retro café on Shamian Island. Guangzhou’s story is always being rewritten—through the fusion of tradition and modernity, it continues to reveal its unique charm as a city that honors its past while embracing its future.

Overall Conclusion (From a Foreign Scholar’s Perspective)

Guangzhou, as a core city of Lingnan culture, offers a rare case study in how a metropolis can preserve its cultural roots amid rapid modernization. Unlike many cities that prioritize modernity over heritage, Guangzhou weaves tradition into daily life: ancient grey sculptures coexist with digital exhibitions, century-old teahouses stand beside skyscrapers, and traditional dragon boat rituals are celebrated alongside contemporary light shows.

What strikes me most is the city’s "living heritage"—craftsmen, food vendors, and opera performers do not treat tradition as a static relic, but adapt it to modern tastes (e.g., simplified Cantonese embroidery keychains, VR-enabled cultural relic experiences). This flexibility allows Lingnan culture to remain relevant to young generations while retaining its authenticity.

For foreign researchers or travelers, Guangzhou is more than a tourist destination—it is a laboratory for understanding how non-Western cities can balance progress and preservation. Its streets tell stories of trade (from the Thirteen Hongs to today’s CBD), resilience (in preserving crafts like grey sculpture and Cantonese opera), and inclusivity (blending Chinese and European architectural styles, local and global tastes). In short, Guangzhou is a city where the past breathes in the present—a quality that makes it truly one of a kind in the global urban landscape.