Serious Travel Article 21: The Island of Gulangyu, Xiamen, Fujian

Squeezed in line at a crowded ferry terminal in Xiamen, I waited with my wife Coco and her parents to board the ferry to Gulangyu Island, just off the coast. All the ferries were packed, ours no exception, so I hashed a plan.

Get on and run to the back, don't sit down, stand at the edge, the near corner, don't wait for each other, just go to that point. I'd organized war plans with my friends on seat unallocated Easyjet and Ryanair flights, this was going to be easy.

It was.

Two minutes later we occupied the best places at the back of the ferry, with the best panoramic views across the bay of the islands and the city. 

The Xiamen to Gulangyu Island ferry, returning in the morning, hence the lack of crowds

Gulangyu Island is Xiamen's top, must see tourist attraction. The tour guide on the ferry said Gulangyu was a special, the island had been the centre of Amoy (back when Xiamen was called Amoy) and, due to China's defeat to the British Empire and the subsequent Treaty of Nanking, became a Treaty Port. This meant it became internationalized and administered by various colonial powers. Britain was predominant, and as such British Indian Sikh Police were drafted in to control the population. The Sikhs have long gone, but to this day, Gulangyu is dotted with Victorian buildings grand and miniature alike.

From the boat, the island looked pretty and serene, with low lying, pastel coloured colonial buildings scattered around and palm trees lining the white sands. I couldn’t wait to dock. As if pouncing on the excitement of the passengers, the crew of our vessel began hawking a box of Gulangyu postcards for the low low price of twenty yuan, around two pounds. Coco was tempted but I managed to dissuade her. Her parents were also hypnotized by the sales pitch just before we arrived, but I told them it wasn't worth it. 

Gulangyu Island, Xiamen, Fujian, China

The crew had said “once you disembark you'll never get another chance to buy these postcards”. Most of our fellow passengers succumbed and parted with their twenty yuan. As soon as we stepped foot on the dock, a hawker offered the same set of postcards for just 10 yuan. My father in law was sold. He soon regretted it as the next offered it for seven, then five, then finally three yuan.

He stomped around for a while, angry about being cheated while the rest of us got our bearings. China's one and only piano museum was the hot attraction on the tourist trail but it seemed beyond boring for those with no interest in pianos. It was another boiling day in Fujian Province so we decided to get an ice cool drink in one of the beach side cafés. Sitting down on a bench we looked at the menu, 40 yuan for a coconut with a straw, 30 yuan for a coke. It seemed the whole island was run to rip off visitors. We settled for water for 5 yuan a bottle and began to explore the interior of the island. Alleyways straddled the island like and irregular spiders web but wiggling like the roots of the giant durian trees whose bowling ball sized stinking fruit proved both a fascination and a mortal danger to gawking tourists. 

Durians hanging dangerously in the trees overhead

Hanging high at an impossibly steep angle was Sunlight Rock, the highest point on Gulangyu. It was the island's sore thumb sticking out at it's centre and I wanted to climb up. But as I squinted at the scorching rock, and the traffic jam of people in the single track path climbing up it, moving slowly without an iota of shade, I decided against it. On a forty degree day, it would be mad for a blonde haired European to stand in line on an exposed rock, high above the tree line, even with all the sunscreen in the world. 

Sunlight rock, poking his head above the trees on Gulangyu Island

Plodding on past the rock we discovered a local, not hell bent on rinsing the tourists for all their worldly goods. She had a little hut and was selling great big rice starch dumplings, 2 yuan for one. We bought 10 and made them out lunch, delicious carrot and veggie rice starch dumplings. The dumplings in southern China were a lot nicer than the flour boiled salt packets of the north. They were subtle and fragrant. They made me want to live in Xiamen, were I could gobble them everyday and be free of smog.

The only free museum on the island is the one dedicated to Zheng Chengong (Koxinga). Set in a large Victorian mansion, it details Koxinga's rise to prominence and power as commander in the late Ming Dynasty, fighting against the Manchurians for hegemony over China and then fighting and beating the Dutch in Taiwan, making Taiwan a haven for Ming Dynasty loyalists. Taiwan seems to have become a haven for ousted Chinese political dynasties. Of course in the museum, Koxinga was revered as an anti imperialist who kicked the Dutch out of Chinese Taiwan, omitting the fact that the aboriginal Taiwanese hardly considered their island part of greater China, and only switched allegiances upon Koxinga's invasion due to their dislike of Dutch compulsory education.

The Great Sino-Japanese Warrior and Commander Zheng Chengong, also know as Koxinga

It also failed to mention that Koxinga was born in Japan, and was half Japanese. I decided to remember that fact whenever a brainwashed Chinese person began to tell me how much they hated Japan…. a common topic.

The day became more and more crowded the closer to the north of the island we got. The north of the island, directly opposite the main island of Xiamen is filled with tourist tat shops, restaurants and even a McDonald's. The problem was everything was so jammed full, sardine style with tourists, you could hardly move, let alone get a seat in the Mango Ice Cream shop. After an hour of being squeezed, we returned to the mainland, in what felt like a pilchard tin where you had enough room to spin a cat abuser.

Gulangyu Island is expensive, pretty, but not massively so, mildly interesting and considering I visited out of season, hugely over stuffed with far too many people. 

Illegal Turtles, Coral, Ivory and other Dead Animal products are on sale in Gulangyu. The merchant Chased me out of his shop and tried to steal my camera after taking this photo. I good enough reason to publish it to make the world aware of the Illegal sale of protected animals on Gulangyu Island, Xiamen.

On the return voyage, I overheard one of my fellow pilchards say, “Gulangyu is far too crowded, I'm never coming here again, next year the Maldives”.

I think I'll take his advice.