LOW-KEY ISLAND TICKLES THE CURIOUS
China’s Piano Island is a charming pedestrian-only place with a unique international history, writes Janis Connolly.
Piano Island isn’t on the holiday bucket lists of many Canadians and nor was it on mine. But I found myself in early March with my husband on a packed ferry bound for the little island. We are the only Caucasians on board and good naturedly acknowledge the stares of the other passengers, especially startled babies who haven’t encountered blue-eyed gweilos before. There isn’t a life jacket in sight and I try to put out of my mind the images of ferries that had recently capsized in similar waters.
We are guests of the owner of a large boat manufacturer who has invited my spouse, a Vancouver boat broker, to tour his expansive factory in Xiamen, China. We hadn’t had time to do our due diligence into Xiamen’s history until we arrive. We learn the city has an urban area of 3.5 million people that was transformed when the region became a Special Economic Zone during China’s economic reforms of the early ’80s. Supported by foreign investment, largely from the Mainland, Taiwan and Macau, the city boasts spectacular, futuristic architecture and scenic walking paths that skirt the waters surrounding the city.
We are treated like royalty during our 48-hour visit. The owner’s lovely assistant Renee picks us up at the airport, deliv- ers us to our hotel and tells us about our dinner plans. We have one afternoon free and are given the options of a tour of the island on which Xiamen is situated, or a ferry ride to Gulangyu Island (Piano Island).
Recalling our childhood piano lessons fondly and mutual love of the instrument, we opt for the island adventure. Renee looks after us at the ticket booth, which is swarming with folks who don’t queue well. Apparently we need to show our passports for the 20 minute ride to an island, which is part of the same country. As we had left ours in the hotel safe, Renee sweet talks the officials into admitting us with B.C. driver’s licences, our grim photos passing the test.
We ask Renee why Gulangyu is called Piano Island. She volunteers simply, “because they have a lot of pianos there.” This seems like a reasonable explanation to us and we are encouraged by the display of a rather forlorn looking upright piano surrounded by plastic flowers that we walk by to board the ferry. I lose Renee and my husband as we board as people rush by me to claim the few available seats. Eventually we are reunited as my six-foot-three spouse is easily spotted in Asia.
Once ashore, we become quickly enchanted with Gulangyu. It is a pedestrian-only island with architecture that reflects various periods of history. We find out later (finally doing our due diligence) that after the Treaty of Nanking in the mid-1800s, foreign residents on the island established an organization including Great Britain, France and the Netherlands that enjoyed extraterritorial privileges. The British played a significant role in the administration of the settle- ment and Sikh policemen from British India were charged with its policing. The predominantly Victorian-era architecture is a result of the consulates, churches and other infrastructure built by these foreign communities.
The streets are narrow and charming, some cobblestoned. We are hungry and stop at a rustic place with concrete floors that are being washed with pails of soapy water. The owners enthusiastically clear a table for us upstream of the foam and bring us icy Tsingtao beer to accompany the wonderful pork Jiaozi and spicy tofu.
We continue our stroll through the windy streets into a vibrant market of kitschy Asian souvenirs and the most enticing food stalls we have encountered in Asia. Fish balls, a popular local delicacy eaten like popcorn, are served in small paper cups. Skewers of squid, tentacles glisten- ing, are threaded on sword-like skewers. And crowds gather around weird opaque squares of jelly with apparently delectable worms embedded in them.
Too full to indulge, we are still eager to find out how the island got its namesake. We haven’t seen a piano yet. We roam further and realize it is time to head for the ferry with a pressing dinner engagement to meet.
How the island got its name gnaws away at us. Back at the hotel, we do further research and wish that we had forgone lunch. There is a spectacular piano museum, the largest in Asia, displaying pianos from all over the word including the world’s tallest upright. The former international occupants of the island, buoyed by their love of music and the piano, decided the island would be a fitting spot for the museum.
Our Chinese visa is good for 10 years. We vow to go back.
We ask Renee why Gulangyu is called Piano Island. She volunteers simply, ‘ because they have a lot of pianos there.’