Religious Tourism

Travelers eventually face the predicament of a destination that is utterly defined by one particular attraction — the Pyramids outside Cairo or the Taj Mahal in Agra, for example. The question is less “Should I see this attraction?” and more “How could I possibly not see this attraction?” But any lingering doubts I had about visiting the famed Terracotta Army, built by Emperor Qin Shihuang in the 3rd century B.C., soon dissipated when I entered the main excavation site. The life-size, chalky-gray warriors were meticulously detailed and demonstrated a stunning, almost overwhelming show of force — exactly, I’m sure, the impression the emperor wished to make.

But Xian, the north-central Chinese city whose name means “western peace,” is much more than its collection of warriors. It’s one of the oldest cities in China: It has seen the likes of Marco Polo during his Silk Road journey, and been home to Buddhist sutras brought from India by Xuanzang, a monk whose journey inspired one of the greatest works of Chinese literature, “Journey to the West.” Xian was also one of the first Chinese cities introduced to Islam, and its Muslim Quarter, located in the city center, is now one of the city’s most thriving tourist areas. I had a fantastic time in the ancient city during a recent four-night excursion. It’s also one of the less expensive trips I’ve taken in the past year.

One of the biggest costs? Getting there. But even that was cheap, not to mention enjoyable — my one-way ticket on a high-speed train from Chengdu to Xian cost 283 yuan, about $45. If you’re looking to take a 17-hour sleeper train, you can do that for about half the cost. A couple of tips: Get to the train station 30 minutes before you think you need to. There’s considerable security getting into the station and the trains leave precisely on time (I very nearly missed mine). Travelchinaguide.com has the best interface I’ve seen for buying Chinese train tickets online; alternatively, you can ask for help at your hotel.

The journey through the countryside at 150 miles per hour took a little more than four hours. There was a notable juxtaposition of approaching Xian — a city with centuries-old 40-foot high city walls and a literal moat — in such an advanced and modern way. I emerged into the subfreezing temperatures at the North Railway Station and hopped on the subway (less than a decade old and in great shape) into the heart of the city (one-way ticket, 4 yuan), in search of the lodgings I had booked on Hostelworld.com.

I can’t always do youth hostels — I’m generally too old and grumpy to be hanging around in bunk beds comparing dry shampoos with a bunch of early-20s Australian backpackers. But every now and then I stay in one, and I’m reminded that they usually, when chosen carefully, provide for a great experience, especially for the price point.

That’s precisely what happened at Han Tang Inn, a homey and friendly hostel on narrow street, a quick walk from the Zhonglou (“Bell Tower”) subway station. For those on an extreme budget, $6-per-night beds in six-person shared rooms are available. I decided to “splurge,” booking a private room on the second floor with its own bathroom — at 139 yuan per night, a little more than $20, I was happy with my decisio.

Like all good hostels, the inn provided plenty of cushy space, a decent selection of snacks and drinks for sale, good-enough Wi-Fi, and free in-house activities like mah-jongg and calligraphy lessons. Most importantly, it gives you a built-in crew of new friends and acquaintances — perfect for exploring and checking new places out.

And in my case, it gave me an easy and affordable way to check out the Terracotta Army at the Emperor Qin Shihuang’s Mausoleum Site Museum. I don’t typically like aligning myself with tour groups, but for excursions out of town (the excavation site is about an hour east of Xian), I recommend it. Unless you’re particularly facile with Chinese, arranging solo day-trips can be difficult or costly. Instead, I paid the hostel 238 yuan and joined a 10-person group one morning on a minibus out of town.

“The emperor’s Chinese name was Qin Shihuang. We also called him Ying Zheng,” explained Jia Jia, our friendly and assertive tour guide, who punctuated many of her pronouncements with a definitive “hmph.” She continued: “Emperor was a good emperor. But he was also ruthless. And he was very crazy.” The emperor, she said, while achieving the unification of China and creating the great clay army, also had a fondness for torturing his subjects and a taste for mercury, thinking it was the secret to everlasting life (it was, in fact, the opposite).

There were three excavation locations at the museum, and we saved the biggest and best for last. The vast, final dig site held hundreds of soldiers, lined up in a majestic and slightly eerie show of force: infantrymen, archers, even a few horses. I was surprised when Jia Jia told us that while Qin Shihuang created around 8,000 life-size soldiers to protect him in the afterlife, only 2,000 or so have been unearthed and reassembled since local farmers made the discovery in 1974 (and only a portion of those are on public display at any given time). Many, many decades of painstaking work remain. Admission to the site, should you choose to go on your own, is 150 yuan, or 120 during the winter off-season.

I was able to do most of my exploration of Xian solo, though, thanks to the compactness of the city center. I recommend making a quick stop at the Bell and Drum Towers, which closely resemble each other and are both located in the heart of the city. Tickets to each will cost 35 yuan, or you can buy a combo ticket for 50 yuan. The pagoda-like structures, with their distinctive upward-tilting eaves, are quite regal and majestic, and beautifully illuminated during the evening. They were constructed within years of each other during the 14th century by the Hongwu Emperor of the Ming dynasty — the Bell Tower rang to mark the beginning the day; the Drum Tower, its end.

Another duo of complementary sights is the Giant Wild Goose and Small Wild Goose Pagodas, both south of the city walls. The larger of the two is one of Xian’s most famous structures, a sandy-colored Tang dynasty pavilion constructed in 652 A.D. to house sutras and icons brought from India by the Buddhist monk Xuanzang. The seven-story pagoda occupies the spacious and peaceful grounds of Dacien Si (Mercy Temple), which costs 50 yuan to access.

Meandering around the temple grounds on a chilly day, I saw men and women lighting incense and worshiping at Sakyamuni, the main hall of the monastery. From there I entered the pagoda (this requires a separate 20-yuan ticket) and climbed the nearly 250 wooden stairs leading to the top. Created to protect the 657 volumes of Buddhist scriptures Xuanzang brought back, the pagoda yields another benefit: the views from the top are excellent, if slightly hindered by smog.

(Air quality is a problem throughout China, and asthmatics and those with delicate respiratory systems should take particular notice. The government is testing measures to stem the problem in different cities, including Xian, which is experimenting with building-sized air purification towers.)

To the northwest is the Small Wild Goose Pagoda (built in 707, it’s slightly younger), and while the pagoda itself is currently being restored, the area is worth visiting for a couple of reasons. The Studio of Chinese Calligraphy and Painting, in addition to traditional artwork, has a small museum dedicated to Mao Zedong that I found to be more honest and critical than I expected. It cites the “lost generation of the Cultural Revolution” and the era’s “disastrous blow on traditional Chinese culture.” A friendly employee at the shop directed me to the spacious, modern Xian Museum (free admission), which has diverse array of installations: contemporary paintings from the Taklamakan Desert region, relics from the Tang and Sui Dynasties, and, in the basement, an exhibition detailing the history of Xian.

Don’t forget that the city’s ancient walls are an attraction in and of themselves. Accessible in different locations around the city, I found it easiest to enter by the main southern gate (Yongning), the most elaborate and ornate of the entrances. Tickets are 50 yuan, but I was able to score a half-off discount by showing my high-speed rail ticket from Chengdu. The ambitious can rent a bicycle on the parapets — 45 yuan for three hours — and bike the approximately 8.5 miles around the entire wall. (Given the subfreezing temperatures and poor air quality, I decided to just walk the walls for a while. I wasn’t disappointed — the views were good, and provided a nice vantage point of much of the surrounding area.)

Convenient to Yongning gate, on Shuyuanmen Pedestrian Street, is Zui Chang An, the first of many outstanding restaurants in the city I sampled. I’ve done my share of eating in the world, and I’ll say that Xian has some of the tastiest and most accessible regional cuisine of any country I’ve visited. At Zui Chang An, you can get a very good version of a Shaanxi specialty called hulu ji, or calabash chicken. Steamed or stewed (or both, in some cases) and then fried and served inside of a gourd, this whole chicken (68 yuan) has tender, fall-apart meat that went well with a side of spicy, numbing cucumber seedlings (22 yuan).

Getting a good breakfast near my hostel was no challenge once I discovered Ma Lao’s Diced Meat Spicy Soup, a small shop on West 1st Road. I went one morning with a fellow traveler in search of a peppery bowl of hu la tang, or hot, peppery soup, and found a long line of locals — always a good sign. The thick, tangy broth, filled with mushrooms and bamboo shoots, positively made my hair stand on end with its sharp, black pepper flavor. Along with a side of flatbread, brimming with herbs and onions, it made a for a filling and eye-opening breakfast. Two bowls and bread cost just 17 yuan.

The Muslim Quarter, which begins roughly at the Drum Tower and extends north and west through a considerable swath of the city, is certainly geared toward tourists but is worth walking around for its frenetic energy, brightly lit signs that would give Vegas a run for its money, and, naturally, its tasty street food. Beiyuanmen Street, which extends northward from the Drum Tower, was a natural place to start an impromptu food tour, and I launched my exploration from there.

Dodging bicycles, a crush of pedestrians, and the occasional pedicab, I wound my way through the barrage of colorful LED lights and street hawkers selling pomegranate juice, chunks of durian and roujiamo, a sandwich stuffed with chipped beef and hot, spicy oil (15 yuan). My favorite snack was a juicy stuffed pancake called xianbing, which was full of diced beef and fresh chives (10 yuan). In the hectic Muslim Quarter, your best strategy is to relax and go with the flow: The different foods and sheer variety of choice can overwhelm, but not once was I disappointed.

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