Phoenix Ancient Town Travelogue Essay

Phoenix Ancient Town is an ancient town full of mysterious elements. It became famous throughout China because of a novel called “Border Town,” and it is now one of the most well-known ancient town tourist destinations. There are many romantic stories about encounters here. Below I will share a 600-word travelogue essay about Phoenix Ancient Town.

Waiting is the destiny of an umbrella.

Rails are the track of a train’s life-long movement.

The honking of cars, the chirping of unknown birds, the ringing of bicycles, the crashing of water against rocks…

All the sounds interweave, and slowly fuse into a wonderful morning melody.

I walk through the quiet streets of Phoenix, immersed in this ancient city built of blue bricks. I seem to forget I’m a tourist and feel more like a resident of Phoenix. People all praise the brilliant and colorful night scene of Phoenix, but I think the serenity of Phoenix in the morning is even more precious.

I walk through the winding and secluded long streets. I gently touch the blue bricks on the side of the street, some of which are already covered with moss. My feet tread on the uneven blue stone slabs, and I look up at the rising smoke from the kitchen in the distance.

At that moment, my weary heart found solace in the corner of the ancient town.

Sometimes, if you sit quietly and listen with your heart, you can hear the wind rushing out of the reeds. People are lonely, and cities are also lonely. Sometimes, a city is only waiting for one person.

A city is more persistent than a person. It can listen to the whispers of stars under the moon, or feel the drizzle of rain in the wind. Whether it’s a cold wave, thunder, fog, or clouds, it will always be with us, inseparable and unwavering.

That boy who sang under the bright moonlight, causing Cui Cui to dream and be gently swayed by his singing in her sleep, hasn’t come back yet. He will come back tomorrow. Or maybe, he will never come back.

Because of “Border Town,” our impression of Phoenix is always one of sorrow. From the travelogue of Louis Ai Li, we come to appreciate Phoenix from a different perspective.

In Huang Yongyu’s ink-and-wash landscapes, we feel the beauty of natural scenery, and in Shen Congwen’s words, we see the customs and manners of the people of Xiangxi. Beauty is in the painting, beauty is at the tip of the pen.

Because of Cui Cui, we feel a kind of pure emotion that we cannot resist. Walking on the bank of the Tuo River, I look at the Wind and Rain Bridge standing in the distance, and my pace quickens.

Suddenly, a thought pops into my mind: “How wonderful it would be to meet a girl like Cui Cui!” I sigh and watch the slow-moving sampans under the bridge. A woman in plain clothes is standing at the bow of the boat, holding an oiled paper umbrella.

Soon, a strong wind blows. In the wind, the long hair of the woman in plain clothes flutters. In the water, ripples appear. I want to take my camera and capture this moving moment.

I pick up my camera, but just as I’m about to press the shutter, I lower it and quietly watch as she drifts away with the sampan.

The bright sunshine gently bathes every alley in the ancient town. The slow pace of the morning gradually turns into a rush.

I quicken my pace as I walk through the alleys paved with bluestone. On both sides of the street, shops hang all sorts of clothing, handicrafts, intricate embroidery, fragrant sachets, delicate bracelets, and so on. These are all the crystallization of the wisdom of the people of Phoenix.

Walking along the shore, it is now noon. The boatman’s song floats in my ears, and the sampans drift slowly on the Tuo River. The Octagonal Tower in the distance looks particularly dazzling under the sunshine.

Close by, the local stilt houses are reflected on the surface of the river. I slowly walk up to them and realize that my shadow, the river, and the stilt houses have become one.

At this moment, the ancient town is no longer lonely, because I am here, with such beautiful scenery accompanying her, and she is no longer alone.

The night scene of Phoenix has its own unique charm. When dusk falls, the banks of the Tuo River are already lit up by lights that illuminate the surface of the river. Those lights reflected in the water shine together with the lights on shore, and I can no longer tell whether the light is coming from the river or the shore.

The bar street along the river becomes lively, and the rhythm of the ancient town becomes passionate. The sound of metal instruments being struck, and people’s shouts, make the ancient town noisy.

However, I can feel the ancient town’s feelings. She is lonely now. She is not accustomed to too many people or too much noise. I shudder involuntarily, afraid that my arrival will disturb her peace. I should be a devout follower, not a casual tourist.

The next day, I pack up my belongings. Before leaving, I walk to Rainbow Bridge, wanting to leave you with the most beautiful impression.

I pick up my camera and gently press the shutter. It is the same sampan, the same Wanmin Tower, but the woman on the boat is gone.

I board the car heading back home, and the ancient town is getting farther and farther away. The ancient town becomes quiet once again. She is waiting, waiting for someone to gently awaken her.