If you're coming to Jiayuguan, I'd recommend staying at this hotel.
It's not a hotel that aims for luxury. There are no grand crystal chandeliers or deliberate attempts to evoke a 'Northwest China' style. Instead, it's understated, almost serene. You'll find natural wood, rough stone, a lot of blank space, and very little color. The moment you open the door, you'll feel like it's not trying to imitate the Northwest, but rather as if the winds of the Hexi Corridor have been brought inside the building.
I've always believed that a hotel in a particular place shouldn't just be a place to sleep.
It should belong to that land.
Jiayuguan doesn't feel like the beginning of a story.
It feels more like its end. The Hexi Corridor gradually narrows here, the snowline of the Qilian Mountains recedes into the distance, and looking west, the Gobi Desert unfolds like a map; beyond that lies a different world.
So, when I met a mother and son from Poland at the hotel's front desk, I was a little surprised.
It was their first time in China.
Due to the language barrier, they had a bit of trouble checking in. I helped them translate a few sentences. After things were settled, I couldn't help but ask:
"Why Jiayuguan?"
To be honest, for their first trip to China, most foreigners would choose Beijing, Shanghai, Xi'an, or even Chengdu. Jiayuguan isn't typically on that list.
The older lady didn't answer with "because of the Great Wall" or "because of Dunhuang."
She said it was because of a book.
*Shadow of the Silk Road*.
Many years ago, when she was a young girl, she read about the British travel writer Colin Thubron's journey along the Silk Road. Since then, the Silk Road has remained with her throughout her life. Not a plan, not a wish, but more like something that was bound to happen eventually.
Decades passed, and she retired.
So, she brought her twenty-eight-year-old son from Poland to China, to Jiayuguan. Afterwards, they would continue to Xi'an, Urumqi, Kashgar, and then travel all the way back to Europe.
I suddenly realized that sometimes, people can be slowly changed by a book.
Not in a week, not in a year, but over decades.
The old lady's name was Margarita, and she was an English teacher.
This was quickly confirmed.
During our chat, I mentioned that a dish was a bit 'salty,' and she paused, then earnestly told me that 'savory' would be more accurate. I used an inappropriate tense, and she casually corrected me.
I smiled and said:
"You're such a picky old lady."
She immediately shook her head.
"No. Not picky. We should use the correct English."
Later, I felt that she wasn't being picky.
It's just that for a teacher, there probably isn't a retirement age.
We met again at breakfast the next day.
She proudly introduced her son to me. Her twenty-eight-year-old son was a young neurologist, and her older son and daughter were also doing very well in their respective fields.
Mothers around the world are probably all the same.
Whether from Poland or China, when they talk about their children, their eyes light up.
At breakfast, she mentioned she liked red wine but was hesitant to try the unfamiliar brands on the hotel's wine list, eventually asking me to order a large bottle of beer for her.
I twisted open the cap for her.
She didn't pour it into a glass but instead took a direct sip from the bottle.
In that moment, I suddenly thought she was very cool.
Later, our conversation slowly drifted away from travel.
We talked about life, and about those questions everyone encounters but for which it's hard to find standard answers. Travel always seems to have a strange power; it allows two people who wouldn't normally meet to exchange things in a strange city that they wouldn't easily say in everyday life.
When I left, she invited me to visit Poland someday.
I agreed.
I don't know if that day will truly come in the future.
But later, I kept thinking about something else.
These days, we've become increasingly accustomed to letting algorithms decide our next trip.
We open our phones, and trending lists, ratings, and guides tell us where to go and where to stay.
But Margarita made me believe that there are still people who, because of a book they read decades ago, will cross half the globe to come to Jiayuguan.
A book doesn't just change a person's mind.
It can truly stay in a person's heart for decades.
And then, in the winds of the Hexi Corridor, slowly come true.
Original TextTranslation provided by AI
