Maojiabu | West Lake’s Best-Kept Secret Hideaway

Maojiabu is very understated, so much so that it doesn’t even have a proper gate or archway. A dense grove of towering cedar trees lines the roadside, and a narrow path, just over a meter wide, leads into the unknown. With curiosity and a bit of hesitation, you step in—and there you are.

Strangely enough, within just one or two minutes, you find yourself in a completely different world from the bustling West Lake area. Outside, there are crowds of people; inside Maojiabu, it’s sparsely populated. Outside, there’s laughter and chatter; inside Maojiabu, only the songs of various birds. Outside, the plants are meticulously pruned for display; inside Maojiabu, the trees grow tall, the leaves are lush, and nature runs wild. With the surrounding woods as a shield, you can barely glimpse any sign of the modern city, not even in the distance.

In this natural garden, there is a perfect blend of elements—a lake of emerald water, a few lotus ponds, a couple of thatched cottages, and several ancient bridges. The air is thick with cultural atmosphere, as if you’ve stepped into a simple yet profound garden from the Song Dynasty, untouched by excessive ornamentation, yet rich in meaning and charm.

Suddenly, an unexpected downpour sweeps in, and I dash to a deserted thatched pavilion for shelter. Just in front is a pond. The wind drives the rain, causing the branches to sway wildly. The fine raindrops hit the water, creating ripples and splashes. The sound of the wind, the rain, and the rustling leaves merge into a symphony that makes me both excited and thrilled. It’s simply because it’s been so long since I’ve heard nature’s voice this vividly.