Chengdu is one of my favourite big cities in China—and maybe even in Asia.
Twenty-five years ago, I visited the city when the Tea Garden was one of the biggest central public recreational spaces, at a time when Chengdu was developing rapidly. I returned with a slight fear of losing the old charm: the wooden buildings, sacred places, and slow rituals, replaced by roads, parking spaces, soulless high-rise buildings, and tasteless restaurants with white tiles and harsh neon lights.
Instead, I was happily shocked.
I was truly impressed and completely taken away by how much of the old remains part of daily life—and by the care given to sustainable development. There are more green spaces and well-preserved authentic areas than before. No cars or motorbikes make any sound—they are fully electric. The city has bright skies, no noise pollution, and yet the number of people has increased significantly.
The Tea Garden is in full swing, offering a zen, quality atmosphere: carefully chosen teas served in your preferred cup, matching foods presented beautifully in boxes and trays. People gather with friends, family, colleagues, or simply by themselves. It’s a relaxing and attentive experience. You can attend a tea ceremony, practice calligraphy, or simply sit and be present. Calligraphy is for everyone—big, small, young, and old.
Another wonderful thing about mainland China is the development of local tourism and its deep love for tradition. It can sometimes feel like a circus—with lights, laughter, and endless unique souvenirs—but this has also been one of the reasons these places are so well preserved. Alongside this is the absence of Western influence, which makes traveling here very unique. Big brands don’t rule, Western food is hard to find, and the expected cheap souvenirs aren’t sold everywhere. There’s no endless rubbish in the shops, the streets are clean, and people are friendly and proud of their culture.
China is often looked down upon, yet quietly progresses for and with all its people—without bragging and without prioritising endless profit. Forest cover has increased from 10% to 38%. A ten-year plan to lift the poorest layer of the population was achieved in just six years. Health insurance, housing, living wages, cheap rents—and no tips. Why tip someone for a job they are already paid properly to do?
The food is crazy—endlessly crazy. Entertainment, amusement, and flavours whose origins you sometimes don’t want to know. You really can eat almost anything here (but no, not dogs or cats). Looking at food in Chengdu is a feast for all the senses—and sometimes not primarily for the taste buds. Brains, chillies, sticks with who-knows-what, jelly, nougat, and more and more. Hotpots where you choose your own ingredients to boil in bubbling spice, then dip, drizzle, and mix them with pickles, fermented radish, rice, and all sorts of unidentified things—resulting in an explosion of flavour.
Even if you didn’t know before, you’ll quickly realise that Chengdu is home to the Panda Breeding Centre. Panda characters, cartoons, toys, visuals, and signs are everywhere. It’s cute, overwhelming—and cute again. There’s no escape, and somehow you will go home with the most obvious souvenir of all: a panda, even if it’s just a silly fridge magnet.
While walking through endless food stalls in authentic neighbourhoods—or honestly, anywhere—you’ll notice one type of shop more common than supermarkets or cafés: ear-cleaning places. It’s essential, it’s real, it happens live, it’s on screens, and it’s an obsession. Ear picking—awkward, slightly disturbing, and surely not good for your ears—is something that fascinates me but will never tempt me. Clearly, though, it’s “earmarked” by locals as something to do regularly. For me, a big to-don’t.
Instead, you can opt for a pretty intense chair massage while admiring the river, illuminated bridges, and lantern-filled trees. Get your shoulders back into place, loosen your back, and promise yourself not to carry a shoulder bag full of things you don’t need tomorrow.
What’s not as widespread as you might expect are traditional Chinese-style dresses and blouses. Forget cheap, plasticky costume pieces. In smaller alleys, you’ll find beautiful cotton pastel blouses with traditional designs—delicate, with stunning prints. Perfect with modern basics like wide trousers or simple jeans.
For fun—like everywhere in Asia—the supermarkets become evening entertainment. They’re a remarkable playground of word jokes, parodies, absurdity, and items you never imagined existed. Wolf wine, alternative Jack Daniels… they give you that grin that comes from truly being outside your own bubble.