🌧️ Rain, Mist & Memories — A Soulful Journey Through Nanning ⛰️🍢
Nanning wasn’t sunny when I arrived — in fact, it rained nearly the whole time. But that rain, the soft mist, the quiet grey skies… it created something truly special. Instead of bright and bustling, Nanning felt poetic. Mysterious. Almost timeless. And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
I started in the Three Alleys (San Jie Xiang) — and with the rain lightly falling on the old stone streets, the entire area came to life in a different way. Umbrellas dotted the narrow paths, reflecting in the puddles that shimmered under hanging lanterns. The historic houses, many untouched for generations, seemed to whisper through the rain. The air smelled of roasted chestnuts, rain-soaked earth, and steamed dumplings. 🌧️🏮
I ducked into small shops to stay dry — an old tea house serving hot jasmine tea, a cozy art stall selling hand-drawn scrolls, and a street vendor grilling spicy tofu skewers beneath a red canopy. I tried chewy glutinous rice balls rolled in sesame, warm sweet potato cakes fresh off the griddle, and skewers that lit up my mouth with chili and cumin. The food wasn’t just good — it was soul-warming. 🍢🔥
Next came the hike up Qinxiushan — and though the rain never stopped, the mist made the mountain look like something out of an old ink painting. The winding trail was silent except for the gentle sound of droplets hitting leaves. Bamboo groves creaked softly in the breeze, and birds called from somewhere deep in the fog.
Near the top, I found the temple, partially hidden in the mist. It emerged slowly — its curved rooflines and red walls blurred and softened by the weather. I stood there for a while, soaked but calm, just listening to the sound of temple bells echoing into the mist. It felt spiritual, almost otherworldly. ⛩️🌫️
Later, I visited the Old River Wall — no glowing sunset this time, just the river flowing quietly beneath a cloudy sky. But it was still breathtaking. The old moss-covered stones were slick with rain, and the fog rolled in from the water like a scene from a film. Locals walked by in silence, many with umbrellas and plastic raincoats, but everyone seemed to embrace the calm. 🌁🪷
The soft drizzle, the cool air, the distant lights reflecting on the wet pavement — it was one of those moments you don’t take a picture of because the feeling is too big for a frame.
And of course — the street food under the rain hit differently. 🔥
Hot bowls of beef noodles that steamed up my glasses, crispy grilled squid brushed with spicy sauce, and warm rice cakes that stuck to my fingers. Every bite felt comforting, and standing under a vendor’s umbrella, sharing a laugh with a stranger over spicy food, was a memory I’ll never forget.
Nanning in the rain was quiet, moody, and absolutely unforgettable.
Not loud or flashy — just deeply atmospheric, beautiful in its stillness, and full of moments that touched something deeper.
Sometimes the rain doesn’t ruin a trip — it reveals the soul of a place. 💧💛