Wuhan: The Real Deal

Last week I visited Wuhan for the first time. For those who don’t know, Wuhan is the largest city in China’s Hubei province with a population of more than 10 million. So it’s up there with London, Paris, Istanbul, and Bangkok.

People sometimes ask me which cities I like the most. I think that’s an irrelevant question. What really matters is this: which cities provide the most value for money? The former question may cause lots of people to reply Paris, Venice or New York. The second – more interesting – question would (at least in my case) elicit responses such as Bangkok, Penang and – yes – Wuhan.

What then is so great about Wuhan? Well, first of all it is and has always been an economic center. This means that it has none of the sterile feel of cities that were designed from the top down, and none of the artificial geographical features of cities that are located according to the whim of an emperor or president rather than according to transportation convenience. This is one of the reasons why I don’t like Beijing: a communist reinterpretation of a centrally planned imperial city utterly devoid of natural advantages such as a coast or a river. Of course, Shanghai is a spontaneously evolved economic city, but then Shanghai is expensive for someone like me (someone with either no expense account or one that has been severely constrained by university administrators).

So if there is only one place you should visit in China, and if your subjective preferences are similar to mine, Wuhan is the place to go. It is neither north nor south, and neither west nor east. Indeed, it is the place where China’s main east-west and north-south railroad lines intersect. I was also told that it is the only place in China where they like food from all parts of the country. Having said that, I think that Hubei food represents Chinese food at its very best: lots of chilli and garlic but very little sugar or salt. It’s like a subtle and more varied version of Sichuan cuisine. Best of all: restaurants – and they are everywhere – have a fantastic size-to-price ratio. It’s the opposite of Tokyo: American portions at Thai prices, which is a lot better than the reverse combination.

It helps to know some Mandarin if you go to Wuhan. Mandarin is actually the local language, although the local accent is very strange. Not to worry: people will adjust immediately to standard Putonghua once they find out that you are from somewhere else (this is so different from Beijing where people seem to believe that they already speak with a standard accent; the fact is that most Beijingers also have a heavy local accent). And they are a talkative lot: I spent two or three hours talking to various taxi drivers, and they were the ones who got the conversation going.

Speaking of taxis, they illustrate the value-for-money aspect of Wuhan perfectly. A two-kilometer ride will set you back 6 renminbi (less than US$1) in Wuhan, compared with about 25 renminbi in Shanghai. Also, Wuhan cab drivers sometimes will round down (!) the fare, something that I had previously only encountered in Taiwan.  Another illustration of the price level is that it is possible to find an adequate (clean, air-conditioned etc.) hotel room for under US$30, and that you can get a simple but filling and tasty meal at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant for about US$1.

What is there to see in Wuhan? Well, Wuhan has its own version of the Bund: a road along the Yangzi river which is lined with western banks and office buildings from the treaty port era. They come in a variety of styles, reflecting the simultaneous presence of British, French, German, American, Russian, and Japanese traders in the early 20th century. On one such building, an inscription read “First National City Bank of New York,” although it was now the branch office of some (probably mismanaged) Chinese bank.

Behind Wuhan’s Bund, there is a warren of narrow alleys that brings to mind the dense neighborhoods of Macau. Even further north is where Wuhan’s version of the ”new China” is located: skyscrapers, shopping malls, Carrefour, Walmart, and Starbucks. Proceeding north again, one gets to yet another city: this time gray, dilapidated, and rather drab.

All of the above describes Hankou, which is one of three originally separate cities (the others being Wucheng and Hanyang). On the other side of the imposing Yangzi River (Changjiang) is Wucheng, which has a totally different character. Wucheng is home to two of China’s main universities: Wuhan University and the Huazhong University of Technology. I visited the campus of the latter, which resembled a separate city more than a regular campus. It’s enormous and houses about 50,000 students and a permanent population that I would guess is only slightly smaller. Since university salaries are low as well as standardized in China, some universities compete for faculty by offering on-campus fringe benefits. In the case of Huazhong, this includes subsidized housing, kindergartens, and restaurants, as well as the less tangible benefits of  lower noise levels and better air quality.

Another attraction in Wucheng is the East Lake, which is much larger than the average urban pond. In fact, I found out that the lake is actually larger than the entire territory of the Macau Special Administrative Region. And there is Wuhan’s most famous landmark: a pagoda dating back to the 3d century AD, but since reconstructed on numerous occasions.

This is not to say that Wuhan will be to everyone’s liking. For people who can’t stand pollution, congestion, or chaotic traffic, Wuhan is better avoided. And personally I wouldn’t want to live there, but that’s primarily because of my opposition to all kinds of government suppression of civil liberties.