Started the day in Quzhou, home of the Southern School of Confucianism and full of new construction as it's about to be connected to the high speed rail system. The family temple (the 75th generation descendant died in 2021), branded as a sacred site, had signs only in Chinese except for some old trees, like these ginkgoes,
apparently 502 years old when this tourist site was completed three years ago. I don't know if the two youngsters growing in the third bed are allowed because their elder lost its crown. From there it was into (sometimes literally through) the mountains to our south, many fluffy with the tassel-like tufts of bamboo forests, but impressive numbers of young pines too, our destination the Seussian splendors of Wuyi.
