Memoirs of a Stay at Hangzhou Zhongshan Xizi Lake Hotel: Finding Poetry in the Hustle and Bustle

I. A Gentle Overture in Twilight Arriving at the hotel at six in the evening, the sunset gilded West Lake with a honeyed glow. In the lofty lobby, the faint strains of a guqin drifted through the air. The receptionist handed me a warm cup of Hangzhou white chrysanthemum tea, my fingers brushing against the inscription on the cup: "Light or heavy makeup, she is always charming"—each teacup, I discovered, bore a different verse about West Lake, turning tea-drinking into a cross-temporal dialogue with Su Shi. II. A Miniature World in the Guest Room Stepping into the "Courtyard View Room," I was immediately drawn to the bamboo tea set on the balcony: a stone tea tray, rustic ceramic cups, and a sealed jar of pre-Qingming Longjing tea, accompanied by a copy of *The Tea Culture of West Lake*. Though the floor-to-ceiling window didn’t face the lake directly, the view of the courtyard’s blue-tiled roofs and white walls, with bamboo swaying in the breeze, made me feel as though I’d stepped into a Song Dynasty scholar’s retreat. The bathroom held a delightful surprise: a circular bathtub facing a smart mirror TV. While soaking, I played *The Legend of the White Snake*, watching Xu Xian walk across the Broken Bridge under an umbrella, the image reflected in the steam—an illusion of being part of the painting. During turndown service, the staff left earplugs and a steam eye mask by the pillow, the packaging inscribed with "Wishing you sweet dreams, West Lake calm." These few words were more soothing than any sleeping pill. III. The Dawn and Dusk on the Tongue Opting for in-room breakfast, at exactly seven, a bamboo food box was quietly placed at the door. Opening it released a wave of warmth: the "morning" character on the Dingsheng cake was written in edible gold leaf, the savory soy milk floated with dried shrimp and seaweed, paired with freshly pickled Xiaoshan radish—but the star was the bowl of Pian Er Chuan noodles, with preserved vegetables, bamboo shoots, and lean pork in a milky broth, so delicious it felt like I could swallow my tongue. For supper, I tried the hotel’s "West Lake Night Banquet" set: osmanthus-glutinous rice lotus root with chilled rice wine, Longjing shrimp dumplings, and crab roe tofu soup. Biting into the dumplings, I was surprised by the subtle tea fragrance in the broth—the filling, I learned, was mixed with Longjing tea water. Sitting on the balcony sipping tea under the moonlight, the distant Chenghuang Pavilion glowed with warm yellow lights, like scattered gold dust on the night sky. IV. The Folds of Time in Footsteps At dawn, strolling down the alley behind the hotel, I met an elderly woman selling jasmine flowers, her bamboo basket covered with damp cloth. For three yuan, I bought a string to hang on my bag, only to turn and find climbing roses covering the white walls and black tiles—proof that the hotel was nestled in the heart of the city’s vibrant life. A five-minute walk led to the bustling Hubin commercial district, while ten minutes more took me into the "hidden gem" of old Hangzhou’s streets. In the afternoon, I borrowed the hotel’s vintage bicycle (free for two hours) and rode along Beishan Road to Yuewang Temple, stopping for a break at the Baqing Villa Café—a century-old French building now a partnered check-in spot. With my room key, I exchanged for a special "West Lake Longjing Latte," its foam sprinkled with osmanthus crumbs. V. The Ritual of Departure At checkout, the front desk handed me a kraft paper bag containing dried West Lake lotus seed pods and a custom hotel scented sachet (infused with the white tea fragrance from the room). As I stepped out, a light drizzle began, and the doorman offered an oil-paper umbrella printed with "Zhongshan Xizi Lake," saying, "Take it as a keepsake." Walking to the subway under the umbrella, the raindrops pattered softly, turning distant West Lake into an ink-wash painting. Suddenly, I understood the hotel’s charm: it never flaunted West Lake’s beauty outright but wove the essence of "misty mountains and drizzling rain" into every teacup, every umbrella, every whispered greeting—this, perhaps, is the true artistry of Jiangnan, revealed in the subtlest of details. Little Delights: - Every Friday evening, the lobby hosts a guzheng performance, where you can sip tea to *Fisherman’s Song at Dusk*; - The hotel collaborates with nearby intangible cultural heritage workshops, offering guests free experiences like Southern Song Dynasty tea whisking or traditional papermaking; - On rainy days, complimentary shoe-shining service is provided—even the shoehorn is carved with West Lake scenes from sandalwood.