Passing Through the World - ALWAYS ON THE WAY
This is a travel account written a full year late. A travel debacle jointly staged by gray haze, ticket assassins, and food poisoning.
Last winter, also in January, after our Singapore-Malaysia-Thailand trip (Singapore | Rainy Season Travel Tips, Langkawi | Beach Strolls, Mangrove Adventures and Endless Summer, When Winter Comes, Dreaming on Koh Lipe), we flew from Kuala Lumpur to Nanning, kicking off our long-anticipated Guangxi journey.
This Guangxi trip began with dozens of "ceiling-level" (top-tier) travel guides saved on my phone. As someone often teased by friends for having "travel luck blessed by the gods," I planned what could be called a classic route: enter through Nanning, drive south, deep into the heart of the karst landscape in Guangxi's southwestern frontier — Chongzuo — and finally loop back to Nanning via Jingxi and Baise.
I was full of anticipation for a "painting of a thousand miles of mountains and rivers," but the actual experience gave me travel PTSD that took a full year to heal.
Here's how the story went...
Day 1: We landed in Nanning. Just after leaving Wuxu Airport by car, Brother Dong discovered he had left his newly purchased earbuds on the AirAsia plane seat. He hurriedly called the airport for help. I've done this kind of thing before, and lost items are usually recovered, but this time the final feedback was that the earbuds weren't found. Perhaps the omen of bad luck was planted right here.
After checking into the hotel, the first thing was to go downstairs for a bowl of rice noodles. Fresh beef noodles, fatty beef noodles, tenderloin noodles, beef brisket noodles... one bowl each, eating with full satisfaction.
Day 2: Having no interest in viral photo spots, our Nanning one-day tour was: spend most of the day at Qingxiu Mountain, eat at the viral restaurant "Zhezhe Village" after coming down, and watch the "Nanning Fire Show" at the Shuiyang Market Grand Stage in the evening.
Qingxiu Mountain, also the Nanning Botanical Garden, is large and beautiful. Rich in plant species with super-high oxygen content, it's perfect for family outings. The Millennium Cycad Garden and Rainforest Grand View are especially nice, and the plant education is excellent. Entering from the East Gate in this season yields better photos.
After a long stroll, we headed straight down the mountain to the viral restaurant "Zhezhe Village." In heated clay pots, fresh ingredients are fragranced with scallions, ginger, garlic, and sauces. The yellow wine ignites a charred surface aroma. One bite — rich sauce, crispy and tender texture. Delicious, delicious!
In the evening, we went to the Shuiyang Market to watch the "Nanning Fire Show." This is a fusion performance of intangible cultural heritage iron flowers, fire pots, fire dance, fire sticks, fire breathing, fire wheels, and more. With dynamic music, cool and sexy performers, and ultra-close interactive viewing, we felt absolutely fiery romance.
But good times are always brief, and assassins always appear in the most casual manner.
Day 3: We drove south toward Chongzuo in Guangxi's southwestern frontier. The first stop was Dongnayu Bay, heavily promoted on social media as a place of emerald waters surrounded by peaks. Along the way, I tried to catch the moist grass scent of the Eight Gui region, but what filled my nostrils was a faintly burnt dust smell.
Dongnayu Bay Scenic area ticket + one-way boat ticket: Adult 160 RMB, Child 130 RMB
The best way to experience it must be by boat. When the boat entered the river, the imagined glassy water turned out to be a dull gray-green. The guide explained that due to almost no rainfall for 3-4 months (winter 2024), the water level of the Black Water River had dropped significantly, and sugarcane yields had decreased. Some plants along the riverbank looked slightly yellowed, their reflections dissolving in the murky water. The "Guilin on Water" liveliness was nowhere to be felt.
I asked the guide what was being burned in the fields along the river. She said, sugarcane stalks. None of those "ceiling-level" guides told a Northerner like me that Guangxi burns sugarcane stalks in winter. No wonder the sky always looked like it was covered with frosted glass that could never be wiped clean.
We paid 450 RMB for a fairyland experience, but got a discounted sketch instead. Sorry, I don't endorse this scenic area — extremely poor value for money.
Mingshi Scenic Area Scenic area ticket: Adult 120 RMB, Child 60 RMB
In the evening, we arrived at Mingshi Scenic Area, where the assassin put on a gentle face. Bamboo rafts drifted leisurely, and the Zhuang girl's singing was clear and bright, but the peaks she pointed to in the distance were forever hidden behind grayish tones. I didn't spend money on a small bamboo raft, because I couldn't feel "clearly seeing the green mountaintop, the boat travels atop the green peak," and I didn't want to pay for an unimpressive landscape again.
There are many restaurants along the road. While hesitating, the unique aroma of roast suckling pig wafted from one stall — we had to order a large plate. The crispy skin cracked on first bite, rich but not greasy, incredibly tender — it somewhat soothed our disappointment with the scenery. After dark, we watched a free ethnic performance at Mingshi Scenic Area. Though not polished, the performers' fiery enthusiasm carried the day.
Day 4: Up early, we rented a sidecar motorcycle. Dad drove, the little one sat on the side, and the two of them were delighted. We went to check out Fish Scale Dam, but the weather was poor with no aesthetic appeal — though the sugarcane juice was very sweet. It seemed like everything here was fine, except for the core attraction: the scenery.
Detian Transnational Waterfall Scenic area ticket + sightseeing bus ticket: Adult 115 RMB, Child 75 RMB
The sole exception was Detian Transnational Waterfall, truly worthy of being Asia's largest transnational waterfall. Even with unfavorable weather, it was unaffected. The waterfall's flow was massive, splitting the China-Vietnam border (November-February is dry season; recommended to enter the scenic area between 12:00-14:00). This time, I finally felt some value for the ticket price.
On the return journey, the sightseeing bus drove along the China-Vietnam border. I pointed across to Thea — that's another country, Vietnam, their flag has only one five-pointed star. Thea was excited — this was her second time at a border, the first being the China-Korea border along the Yalu River.
After leaving Detian Transnational Waterfall, we drove to Equan (Goose Spring) in Jingxi.
Equan (Goose Spring) Scenic area ticket: Adult 46 RMB, Child 35 RMB (no ticket needed early morning or evening)
Due to clouds and haze, the pastoral scroll surrounding Goose Spring lost its color, like a faded old calendar. We could only imagine its beauty.
The bamboo raft was only 10 RMB per person. We rode through the bridge arch in the photo above — not a bad deal.
Dinner once again comforted me. The restaurant owner's homemade cured meat was excellent — sadly, they don't sell it separately, and I'm still thinking about it.
Day 5: We continued north. Along the way, fields were burning everywhere, with smoke curling up, adding another filter to the already gray sky. When we reached Quyang Lake, the water looked even more desolate in the haze. Having seen the Quyang Lake that others shared on social media, what I saw before me truly broke me.
The original plan's next stop was the stunningly beautiful Haokun Lake from others' cameras. But checking the weather forecast, Baise was overcast, and all of Guangxi was overcast. Overcast weather rarely produces beautiful scenery. At that moment, like defeated soldiers, we decided to stop heading north and flee south to Fangchenggang, hoping the ocean could save this trip.
Unexpectedly, after driving 8 hours and 388 kilometers to reach Fangchenggang, we encountered the most lethal ultimate assassin of the entire trip.
We dined at a decently rated Korean BBQ restaurant, but in the deep of night, it dealt the whole family a heavy blow — food poisoning. All three of us were hit, vomiting and having diarrhea, dizzy and faint. We were pinned to our hotel beds.
Day 6: A night of torment led to continued weakness. As luck would have it, the Beibu Gulf rain fell endlessly, sea and sky merging in gray, and I was completely emo. We lost all interest in the nearby Dongxing Port and Exotic Style Street. Physical collapse instantly dismantled all meaning of travel. Budget, guides, expectations — before the absolute power of illness, they shattered into chaos.
Having traveled so many times, this was the first time I wanted to go home immediately! Right now!
Day 7: We dragged our half-health-bar bodies back to Nanning, with one day left on the itinerary. I no longer held any expectations — just strolled around. We went to the Nanning Zoo and met the truly authentic "Throw-That-Gorilla."
Brother Dong told me this gorilla is an internet celebrity, famous for throwing things at visitors. We started watching it. At first, it didn't do anything, while visitors surrounded it, laughing, taking photos, and mimicking its signature "throwing" gesture. Before long, it got agitated, picked up a banana peel, and threw it over — close call, almost hit me. I suddenly realized that with its most genuine agitation, disdain, and sudden "talent," it displayed its own unique, vibrant vitality.
Travel should be the same — it should possess a vibrant vitality unaffected by weather, ticket prices, or guides. Because you can't always be lucky.
In the evening, we went to the super-popular "Yongwei Old Friend (Renmin West Road Branch)" in Nanning. One bowl of old friend noodles each. The wok hei from sour bamboo shoots, fermented black beans, and chili under high heat hit us in the face. Though the ordering lady had a terrible temper, the moment we finished the noodles, I began to feel a bit relieved. When scenery lets you down, only the most instinctive appetite and the most down-to-earth worldly warmth can catch your falling soul.
Day 8: Going home. Later, I seemed to develop mild travel PTSD — unwilling to share the Guangxi trip, unwilling to look through those gray, hazy photos.
So, if you ask me whether winter Guangxi is fun? I'd say: the scenery might "assassinate" you due to weather, so choose the right time to travel. Viewing mountains and waters during dry season is truly unwise. Lower your expectations, and you might be pleasantly surprised.
