LONGJING TEA
This day started just like any other day without plans: where should we go? Not too far, since we got up late... That’s why this article is about the Longjing tea fields and the tea itself, because the village of Longjing is very close to Hangzhou.
Longjing, or Dragon Well tea, is one of China’s finest teas and also the jewel of Hangzhou. About 800 years ago, Marco Polo recalled three things after his journey that took him through this region: West Lake, women, and Dragon Well tea.
Longjing Village is the center of tea planting. As far as the eye can see, tea bushes are lined up in terraced fields, and of course, there are family-run teahouses.
The main attractions of the area are the plantations. The most famous of these is the Imperial Tea Garden, named after Emperor Qing. According to tradition, Emperor Qing often spent time here and personally planted 18 tea bushes himself. Among the bushes are some that are hundreds of years old, and still producing tea! Perhaps one of them even sprouted from a twig planted by the emperor’s own hand.
In terms of weather and the overall experience, the best times to visit the area are spring and fall. In spring, around mid-April, the hand-picking of leaves begins, and the valley fills with the scent of fresh tea leaves. At this time, the tea harvest is an added attraction. In summer, the bushes are sprayed several times due to the abundance of caterpillars and other insects. The temperature is also much higher than in spring or fall, and you won’t be able to get fresh tea. Our hostess, who served the tea, did not recommend visiting during this season.
Paths wind through the plantations all the way to the top of the mountain, where, on a clear day, you can enjoy a magnificent panoramic view of the village below and the surrounding area. Due to its natural features, the area offers countless hiking opportunities; during our stay, we even happened to join a 35-kilometer charity hike.
Almost every house in the village is a teahouse. In other words, even if you don’t see a sign, you can go in, because it’s also a “teahouse.”
Don’t imagine a teahouse as a place where tea is ceremoniously served to you, but rather as a house where people live and also sell tea as a business. “Our” teahouse was also a building like this, without any sign. We stopped here because, while walking uphill among the tea bushes, we met a Chinese couple who spoke English, and we saw that on their way back to the village, they went into this house. We figured they must know something we didn’t. For 20 yuan, our order included the following:
Two large blue plastic thermoses (about 2 liters each) stood on the table, filled with hot water. You were given tea leaves in a mug, which you then poured the hot water over. They don’t replace the leaves; they last for about 2–3 “brews,” after which they lose their flavor. They also offered peanuts, sunflower seeds, and fruit. There were two types of tea available at the house; the 20 yuan option (+ fruit) was the cheaper one—we chose this one based on a recommendation from our new friends. You can also eat there, but only after making prior arrangements. The grandmother is the cook, and you’ll get home-cooked meals, but given her age (76), her capacity is limited. At other teahouses with kitchens, you can order food to go with your tea.
Our trip turned out to be interesting in many ways, and it proved once again that although the world is big, it’s still small:
On the way up the mountain, we exchanged a few words with a Finnish couple. From the conversation, we learned that the young man had lived in Kecskemét for a while as an Erasmus scholar.
On our way to the village, a mother stopped us because her little girl wanted to talk to us—she loves strangers. It’s true that the little girl didn’t say a word, but her mom spoke English, and it turned out she’d been traveling with Hungarians on the bus—unfortunately, we didn’t get to meet our fellow countrymen.
The young man from the Chinese couple imports wines and is familiar with Hungarian wines; the young woman is a sommelier and is also very knowledgeable about Hungarian wines. As an added twist, she has a Hungarian acquaintance in Shanghai who has been living there for more than 10 years and also imports Hungarian wines.
We saw tea drying (a local “artisanal” method of processing tea leaves, in which the leaves are placed in a large cauldron that is heated. The leaves are constantly stirred in a circular motion until they dry out) and how the local flatbread is made—you’ll be able to read about that in a separate article.
Unlike Marco Polo, when I think of Longjing, the following phrase comes to mind:
What a small world!
And the tea: what can I say without offending tea lovers? Yes, it’s delicious. But for me, the best tea has always been my dear mother’s tea with sugar and lemon, where you can hardly taste the tea’s original flavor anymore. :-D
October, 2017
