Jesse Warren

    OWING to the sheer number of immigrants living in Shenzhen, there are direct bus routes to just about everywhere, especially the small towns scattered all over Guangdong. During the past Spring Festival holidays, I was lucky enough to be invited to one of these towns by a friend. Jumping on the bus and not knowing what to expect, I found a thriving community with its own set of idiosyncrasies.

    We can be tempted to label small towns in China as “one and the same,” but Jieshi, just up the coast under the jurisdiction of Shanwei, surprised me with its own unique flavors.

    With a single high-rise hotel in a sea of four-story walk-ups, it was claimed by one local that Jieshi was home to a population of 400,000 people (equal to Cleveland or Miami). Packed streets, honking horns, and jammed alleyways all lent an atmosphere of chaos. To its credit, Jieshi has what the Chinese call “rè nao,” and you surely won’t feel dull for a moment.

    Like most other small towns throughout the province, Jieshi is a town of locals. People proudly call it home, don’t stray far, and live their entire lives there. Expecting to find Cantonese culture, the town is actually made up of mostly Hoklo people, speaking a Chaozhou-like variant of the Minnan dialect which is out of Fujian. It also has some of the best street food you’ll find in Guangdong, and fewer stares than one is normally subjected to.

    Because of its location on the sea, Jieshi is a port which engages in a fair amount of international commerce. Some of this involves under the table dealings with vessels coming from South Korea and Japan. A consequence of this: the town is loaded with small clothing and shoe shops containing real, brand-name goods, at bargain prices. You won’t find the latest Kobe’s here, but factory rejects and bygone classics abound.

    The town’s defining attraction must be Basaltic Hill. Just about the only patch of green in an asphalt jungle, it’s a refreshing escape from the hustle, bustle and gas fumes of the streets. Featuring a rebuilt pagoda (with the only elevated view of the town), a popular temple, grassy knolls, and plenty of elderly men playing Chinese chess, it’s a good place to recharge your batteries.

    Despite the noise and chaos, Jieshi is one of the cleaner Guangdong towns I’ve yet seen (minus the street selling live and dead animals). As most locals engage in traditional Buddhism, it also has a fair number of ancestral halls, temples and shrines; and a quick dip into one of these will allay any stress. Recommended are the Xuantan and Chengguang ancient temples.

    About 20 minutes south along the coast is the small, nondescript fishing village of Qian’ao. Seeking but not finding surf there, I nevertheless discovered something else. Spotting a peak in the distance, we set off on a maze of trails. Arriving at what felt like a vortex, we were rewarded with some surreal views of the village behind, and ragged rocky coastline ahead, while grave sites dotted the hills. Trails stretched in every direction, and one could spend hours exploring them with a picnic basket, blanket, and bottle of wine in hand. Yet the setting sun halted our journey.

    Along the north coast is the seaside beach attraction of Guanyinling, which was pleasant, but lacked the mystical attraction of the rocky coastline above Qian’ao.

    Jieshi is not exactly the type of place brimming with amazing and/or world-class attractions. But it has it’s own charisma and is worthy of a visit. Whether this town or the next; if you’re an adventurous weekend tripper, simply choose a destination, find a bus, and hit the road.