Chengdu: Pandas, Teahouses, and Spicy Mala

The beauty of Chengdu lies in its slowness. Three days and two nights, between pandas, teahouses, and hotpot, spend your days leisurely and spicy, fresh, and fragrant.

Early in the morning, you can visit the giant panda base to watch the round black-and-white dumplings gnawing on bamboo and rolling on the lawn. The little ones in the juvenile panda villa fight and roll, their healing value maxed out—the earlier they arrive, the more active they become.

Kuanzhai Alley consists of wide alleys, narrow alleys, and well alleys, with old courtyards converted into teahouses and cultural shops. Find a courtyard to sit down, brew a gaiwan tea, and listen to the sound of a master picking ears with a copper sling, as time stretches on.

The Heming Teahouse in People's Park is a living fossil of old Chengdu; tea costing just a few dozen yuan per table can sit for an entire afternoon. Watching grandpas play chess and aunties dance, Chengdu's "peace" is written on everyone's face.

Hotpot at night is the soul of Chengdu. The red pot churns, tripe churns and churns, so spicy that tears flow but you won't stop eating. Paired with a bottle of Weiyi soy milk, it's the local's secret to cooling off the heat.

Chengdu's comfort is living life as a purpose. When you sit in a teahouse until closing and suddenly don't want to leave, you'll understand why people say, "The young don't enter Sichuan"—because once you're here, you really don't want to leave.