Qibao Street Landscape Description

Qibao is an ancient town. I often heard of Qibao when I was a child. That's because my father drinks and often talks about Qibao Daqu. Although he usually drinks panda's B-level Daqu, he occasionally asks me to buy a bottle of Qibao Daqu when I am happy. Relatively speaking, the price of Qibao Daqu is a bit expensive. I clearly remember that the trademark on the Qibao Daqu bottle is Stone Arch Bridge. Later, I heard that Qibao's crickets are brave and can fight. People older than me will go to Qibao to catch crickets after autumn. In my feeling, Qibao is far away from us, and it is not easy to go to Qibao Town.

More than 30 years ago, I have been to small towns around Shanghai, such as Zhenru, Jiangqiao and Huang Du. At that time, these towns still had small bridges and flowing water. Now, the stone bridges, old streets and white walls there have all disappeared because of development and construction. Qibao still retains an old street with a legacy of Ming and Qing dynasties, an ancient bridge across Puhuitang. Compared with them, Qibao is much luckier.

Qibao is actually very close to us. If there is no traffic jam, it will take half an hour by car. Because there is no old memory, no comparison. I don't know how many ancient rhymes remain in that youthful old street. The first thing you see when you enter the old street is the arch. Maybe it is a form of oriental architecture. But as far as architecture is concerned, pavilions can shelter from the rain, and buildings can accommodate people. I wonder what this archway does. However, this seemingly non-functional archway has a strong sense of form, contains humanistic spirit and shows oriental culture. The old street is paved with slate, and there are shops on both sides. Even the facade has a decent wooden plaque. The streets are covered with apricot flower flags, selling everything, food, drink and clothes, as well as various tourist souvenirs. Crowds are in an endless stream, jostling shoulder to shoulder, shuttling through small streets and alleys. It has become a weekend tourist attraction for Shanghai residents. I think, in the Ming and Qing Dynasties, maybe in the Republic of China, there should be such dense shops and bustling scenes.

The most famous Qibao Street is Tangqiao, a three-hole stone bridge that has experienced vicissitudes for four or five hundred years, and a Pratt & Whitney Hall that flows quietly under the stone bridge. With stone bridges and streams, Dafanshui Town has a new look and vitality. Sitting lazily on the three-hole pond bridge, looking down at the water with fine lines, I can feel the three holes trembling slightly in the waves, and they are flowing with the white gray tiles reflected in the water. It suddenly occurred to me that what flowed down from above should be the evolution of history; What flows eastward from the foot is the inheritance of the times.

Sitting in the antique Henglin Teahouse, you can also see the water through the lattice window. While drinking tea, I tasted the water bearing history and times. On both sides of the flowing water, there are black tile roofs, gray gables and wooden lattice windows full of oriental aesthetics. Think of the old streets paved with bluestone slabs and the stone bridges that witness history. Perhaps the development of tourism has saved these ancient towns. Perhaps the development of tourism has destroyed these ancient towns.

Looking from a distance, the Tangqiao of Qibao is still lying on the silent water of Pratt & Whitney Hall. I don't know how to think of the trademark posted on the bottle of Qibao Daqu that my father drank that year, which is Sankongtang Bridge.

On a whim, I remembered Qibao Ancient Town. Think of the old streets of the ancient town; Think of all kinds of special snacks in the old street: sweet and delicate jiaozi with bean paste, moderately fat and thin white-cut mutton, crispy stinky tofu. Shops facing the street are crowded with diners, and those who can't squeeze in simply stand at the door of the store and squat, chewing with their hands over their mouths. That tastes really bad! I didn't want anything, so I took my wife straight to Qibao.

The excitement of Qibao Ancient Town is beyond my imagination. An old street less than two meters wide is like a canal, and people who drive the street are a tide. Locals, outsiders, men and women, and many outsiders, even old people in wheelchairs, gathered in the crowd in the old street, and the crowd surged forward along the canal. In case of an influx of people, the old street is suddenly crowded with people. The whole street is full of people calling for women and vendors screaming at the top of their lungs. Noisy voices, mixed with the smell of various lampblack, pungent and foul, overflowed the low eaves on both sides of the old street from the narrow street, flew into the air and scattered in all directions.

The old street runs from east to west, with an estimated total length of no more than 2000 meters. A Puhuitang River divides the old street into north and south sections, and there is a three-hole stone bridge on the river. Because this river is called Puhuitang Bridge, I guess the age of the bridge should be similar to Qibao Ancient Town. The small shops in the north section of the bridge mainly sell small handicrafts and ornaments; The shops in the south section of the bridge are full of exquisite snacks. Visitors can eat crab cakes at the bridge, bake them on the fire, fry them in oil, cook them in water, steam them in a steamer, drink tea and drink. As long as you have a generous bag, you can't walk.

My teeth are bad and my stomach is bad. I just read the blessings and don't eat them. For a long time, my back ached and my mouth was dry. Look around to see if there is a teahouse. There are many teahouses in the town, but what I am looking for is a teahouse with a tiger stove at the door, several old square tables in the hall and four long benches around the tables. There is such an old teahouse in the old street. The storefront facing the street is not big, and the old walls of the old house are mottled and peeled off. There are six square tables in the room, and several old ceiling fans are hung on the low roof, swaying weakly, bringing a cool breeze to the stuffy teahouse. There is a waist gate at the junction of the east wall and the south wall. When I walked to the door, I found a hole in it. Walking out of the waist door is a small courtyard, and to the east of the small courtyard is a large living room, which can hold more than a dozen square tables. This is a bookstore. There are already some early listeners in it. Eating melon seeds while drinking tea, waiting for the opening.

In the teahouse, the old tea drinkers sat around the table, rubbing the dark purple teapot gently in their hands. From time to time, add a few mouthfuls of tea to the small white tea bowl, savor it carefully and chat slowly. From time to time, Wu Nong's soft words came from the teahouse. I can't help but move in my heart. This is the rhyme I am looking for, an idyllic rhyme that can penetrate into my bones. This kind of charm can be imagined, and you can't look for it in teahouses and restaurants in the city. We immediately found a bench and sat down. The seat fee is three yuan per person, and public tea is not limited. If you order another "famous tea" and add four yuan of tea. I ordered a pot of Longjing tea, which only cost ten yuan. The waiter gave us a small pot of tea and two tea bowls, and the thermos bottle was placed on the table. It's finished. We added it ourselves.

Soon we merged into the tea customers, who said that this teahouse was once contracted by individuals, but it was difficult to go any further. Now it is taken over by Qibao Town Government. In order to improve the cultural and recreational life of the elderly, reading parties are arranged in the big room at the back every afternoon. So it is called "Qibao Bookstore". Old people who buy tickets and listen to books can spend an afternoon leisurely by spending only one yuan on tea. There is no activity in the bookstore in the morning. Old people can play cards and chat here. This teahouse opens at 4: 30 in the morning, and old tea drinkers from far and near come here early every day. The old teahouse became a good place for them to get together and have fun.

I asked, is there a tiger stove? They said it was at the door, and now it's all burned by electricity. This is just a performance. The old people recalled the era of tiger stoves with emotion, saying that the boiled water cooked by tiger stoves was delicious, and it was from My Sweetie.

An old man sitting on the table on my right caught my attention. Gray hair, gray beard, no modification at all, natural smile, although old, but eyes are bright. Because of my interest in photography, I think he is a good subject. I wanted to take some close-ups of him, but I was worried about his disgust, so I took a picture of the scenery around him with my camera first. After he got used to my camera, I offered to take some photos for him. He pointed to the camera and asked me if there were any photos here. I showed him his image and he was very happy. After a while, he said he was leaving and put on a cool hat with a gray check. I was stunned by his image, just like an extraordinary model. In particular, his free and easy temperament is by no means comparable to those second-and third-rate models. I said to him, are you busy? I'll take more photos for you. He sat down again, stuck out his tongue playfully and made a grimace. I took pictures of him one by one.

He really left. I should have bought him a pot of tea. He drank the tea he brought and put it in Locke's cup. When taking pictures, he still raised a cup and asked me, did you take this? I told him to shoot, and he left with satisfaction. He crossed the threshold of the teahouse and disappeared into the crowded crowd.

He left, and a burst of melancholy came over him. I haven't seen him before. He took some photos with me. I think he must really want to get the photos, but I can't meet his requirements at the moment. He can't even get an email, let alone QQ. I have the opportunity to print the photos in the future. I want to send them to the teahouse. It doesn't matter if I don't touch him, because the waiter in the teahouse knows him and will give them to him.

With the old man gone, I'm not in the mood to shoot other scenery. We also left, but I miss Qibao Ancient Town, Qibao Street and the teahouse on the old street.