Heaven and Earth Touch in Sanya

How brave would one have to be, or how true to one’s convictions, to dare to tell the Son of Heaven that he was doing a less-than-stellar job? Jiajing, the twelfth emperor of the Ming dynasty, was famous for two things: his short temper and a passivity stemming from his practice of Taoism. In the meantime, the Mongols attacked from the north, pirates raided in the south, and kleptocratic officials in the middle of the empire lined their pockets.

Those who objected to the emperor’s style of rule might be banned. One of these dissenters was Minister Hai Rui. He was sent to what people in the Forbidden City then considered the worst place imaginable: Hainan. Back in the Tang dynasty—while Europe was in the Middle Ages—unruly officials were exiled to the hot, mosquito-infested, and generally impoverished island at the southern edge of the empire.

Hai Rui was lucky. The emperor died and the minister was rehabilitated. Hai Rui is now considered a model of honesty and courage in office. But his place of exile only began acquiring a better reputation in the 1980s. Under Mao Zedong’s successor, Deng Xiaoping, Hainan was declared a special economic zone. Conditions on the island have improved ever since.

Buckets and shovels are for children; anyone older arrives with a selfie stick. Vacationing in this part of the world—like in many others—means taking photos. Tourists in Hainan are virtually compelled to visit Tianya Haijiao. According to legend, that’s where heaven and earth touch. Once a place of solitude, its palm-lined beach and brown cliffs have been subsumed by Sanya’s rapid growth. The ticket sales desk is no smaller than that at the Forbidden City. Shuttle buses bring people to what resembles the Seychelles, with the exception of the short poems carved into the rock. “I will follow you all the way to Tianya Haijiao” might well be the most famous ode, an allegory of eternal love that brings hosts of young couples on pilgrimages here.

Zhang Caizhu has come here with her husband. In search of the perfect setting for a photo, her intent is clear: to make everyone back home a bit envious. In Hebei province, where she lives, temperatures are barely above freezing. A center of the Chinese coal and steel industries, Hebei is not exactly a heavenly part of today’s People’s Republic but rather the source of much of Beijing’s smog. “I’m here for the fresh air, the sun, and the marvelous scenery,” says the young woman. She hasn’t gone swimming. “I just dipped my toes in the water yesterday. That’s enough.”

Following her brief visit to the beach, she’ll attend a Las Vegas–style show. Vacationing in China can seem more like hunting season than simple relaxation. The goal is to amass the greatest possible collection of impressions and photos. The requisite bus trips, however, offer travelers a chance to slow down and take a snooze. By day, tourists visit newly constructed villages of the Li and Miao ethnic minorities. In the evening they attend stage shows in Romance Park, whose main gate alone—with its imposing temple frescoes à la Angkor and totem poles evoking North America—promises the greatest possible exoticism. The sea in Sanya is just one attraction among many. In Yalong, signs warn, “Swimming prohibited!” In Tianya Haijiao, black-uniformed guards with whistles keep a watchful eye on any daredevils who still might wish to enter the water. Some beaches have small swimming areas marked by buoys. The state wants to protect the world’s largest population from itself, because most people don’t know how to swim.

The idea that the sea might not only be for paintings and container ships but also for swimming and vacations came to the Middle Kingdom from Hollywood, just like the practice of weddings in white. For many Chinese, weddings are the second most important thing in life. Followed by cars. But the undisputed number one is food.

Tofu Temptation is the city’s best place to eat, according to China’s most popular review app, Dazhong Dianping. “Our tofu used to be reserved for the sole pleasure of the emperor,” says Wang Jinlong. He’s proud of both his culinary specialties and the city. “Sanya has a great future. I don’t know of any other place that has shown such rapid development,” he adds. Also fond of Germany, Wang spent quite a while working for Vorwerk’s Thermomix brand. Eleven years ago he returned to Sanya, where he now manages the most popular restaurant in town. His “Tofu Temptation” is served in a ceramic bowl on a wooden board in a light mist of dry ice. The menu, with colorful images of the delicacies on offer, is a quotidian work of poetry. “My brother fell in love with Lou Mei” is the name of one of the dishes—a typical example of Chinese playfulness, because the words sound very similar to those for “beef and radishes,” which are precisely what guests receive in a small braising pot. But names of dishes are a diversion from the main focus of the cuisine in Sanya and its restaurants: seafood. Fish and prawns are sold in the unassuming market hall in the city center. Customers make their selections from large basins and pay by weight.

The salesman at the local Porsche dealership is just as relaxed as the other drivers along the coastal road, but his eyes sparkle when he hears the phrase “electric drive.” He’s looking forward to the return of the Formula E championship, first held in Sanya in 2019. The new Porsche factory team will take part in the next E-Prix with two Porsche 99X Electric, the first fully electric Porsche race car. From the Porsche Center it’s just a few kilometers on the well-built coastal freeway to Haitang Bay, where the course will be set up once more. Here the Atlantis hotel can be seen far and wide. Its impressive aquarium holds more than eighty different types of fish. Right next to its enormous glass walls, children can join workshops on protecting the ocean. Whether E-Power or environmental protection: the future is underway in Sanya—and about to take off 250 kilometers away in the city of Wenchang. A stone’s throw in the Middle Kingdom. And a door to new worlds, because this coming July, China’s largest spacecraft will be launched from Wenchang on a galactic adventure—a trip to Mars.