It was still bustling at 10 p.m. on a workday in early January. As I stepped off the still-crowded subway at Wuyi Square, I was surprised to see so many people of all ages out and about.

The nearby Huangxing Road Pedestrian Street was thronged with people ducking in and out of restaurants, beverage shops, snack stalls—and even gold and jewelry shops, whose young employees played finger-guessing games with eager customers to win free items. Several groups of musicians performed in the middle of the wide street, encircled by listeners. A 7.8-meter-high sculpture of Huang Xing (黄兴), a local revolutionary and one of the founders of the Republic of China (1912 – 1949), greeted visitors. Projected onto neighboring buildings were large characters reading “Hello, Changsha” and “I love Changsha.” Meanwhile, in front of popular shops and restaurants, large crowds waited in long queues to daka (打卡, “check in”), taking photos to share on social media.

After spending a few more days in Changsha, I came to realize that this constant buzz was the norm in this commercial area, no matter the time of day.

The capital city of Hunan province in central China has become an unexpected travel destination over the last decade, rising up from a former transit stop for travelers heading farther west. Known for titles like “the sleepless city” and “city of entertainment,” Changsha was even ranked as the “No. 1 city Gen Z loves to visit” in 2023, according to the travel app Qunar. During the five-day May Day holiday in 2024, the downtown Wuyi commercial area—named after the international holiday—saw over 5.5 million visits.

However, many have wondered whether these trends—driven by online influencers and internet fads—have lasting power, especially given that Changsha lacks natural scenic spots. Some travelers have expressed disappointment after a short stint, citing a lack of “interesting places to go.”

In response to such concerns, a local weighed in on social media under the popular hashtag, “Is there really no off-season for Changsha tourism?”: “Changsha people enjoy food and entertainment, and have turned them into causes of national fame!”

More than sightseeing

Just days before my journey to Changsha, the city was selected, for the 17th consecutive year as one of China’s 10 “happiest cities” by Oriental Outlook, a magazine published by the state news agency Xinhua. The ranking was based on more than 20 indicators, including living costs, “human appeal (人情味),” pace of life, tourism, and the property market. Perhaps that’s part of what makes Changsha such a delight to visit: People can simply indulge in the city’s offerings, rather than rushing from one tourist spot to the next.

Instead of sightseeing, Changsha is about experiences. At Super Wenheyou, a local food mall refurbished in the style of the 1980s, people can sample crayfish and other traditional snacks. Evolving from a night food stall in 2010, this mall reportedly received 300,000 visitors from around the country during the eight-day Spring Festival holiday last year.

A local friend insisted on treating me and accompanying me to experience the “special atmosphere of old Changsha.” In the seven-story mall, time seemed frozen in the 80s, with gray brick walls, white tiles, steel stairs, neon signboards, and salespeople in period clothing. The wooden desks, benches, enamel bowls, and plates add to the nostalgic feel. We wandered up and down for half an hour before finally finding a place with available seats. During the meal, my friend shared her childhood memories of those dishes, while just two meters away, a group of middle-aged friends clinked glasses and engaged in loud conversation.

And then there is Modern China Tea Shop (better known as Chayan Yuese), established in 2013 in Changsha, now with more than 600 stores, primarily in Hunan but also in other provinces. Its meteoric rise is the stuff of legend—at one time, customers from neighboring provinces would hire agents to bring back products via high-speed rail. This tea shop, decorated in traditional Chinese cultural elements, first gained fame for its tea topped with cream but also offers coffee, wine, and snacks. Around Wuyi Square, there is a Modern China Tea Shop every 50 meters.

“I like the designs of the cups and snack packages,” said Chen Jie, a 27-year-old from Guangzhou who was visiting for the weekend. I myself had a cream tea basically every day during my trip. Chen observed that Changsha people “are good at finding enjoyment in life,” pointing out how they often indulge in things like massage and foot bath after work. She admired their “sense of relaxation,” a concept that young urbanites in increasingly competitive society long for.

I also tried Benluobo, Chen’s favorite restaurant. After waiting in a long queue, I was thrilled by the price—about 30 to 40 yuan per person for a meal—and the generous portions. My 39-yuan order came with a freshly cooked chicken with chopped chili peppers and unlimited refills of rice to soak up the spice.

The city truly comes alive at night, a local driver in his 50s told me as we drove from Wuyi to my hotel. “Changsha people love midnight snacks. [So] they get up late…even the government departments open at 9 a.m.,” half an hour later than in many other cities, he said. “Night snacks and markets have always been popular, while bars have become trendy over the last decade.”

In 2022, the retail sales of the “night economy” reached 500 million yuan, accounting for 60 percent of the city’s retail sales volume that year; more than 1 million people worked at night at more than 30 local commercial areas and 4,000 shopping malls and supermarkets, according to a study on Changsha’s consumption by financial and technology media outlet TMTpost.

City of stars

While governments across China have increasingly turned to social media to promote local tourism, Changsha enjoys a unique advantage thanks to Hunan TV (also known as Mango Channel). Based in Changsha, the station has produced numerous hit TV series, reality shows, and other programs over the past three decades, including singing talent shows Super Girl and Produce 101, launching the careers of many celebrities.

Growing up, I heard a lot about Changsha’s rice noodles, spicy crayfish, and other delicacies from such reality shows like Happy Camp (airing every Saturday since 1997) and Day Day Up (Sundays since 2008), where Chinese celebrities regularly appear to promote their work. Many of my generation, sharing similar memories, make “pilgrimages” to the office buildings of these Changsha media companies, hoping to catch a glimpse of celebrities. Only true fans understand the effort it takes to meet their beloved idols, something I learned firsthand.

I had heard that Li Xian, Yang Zi, and two other actors were scheduled to appear on the set of Hello Saturday (which succeeded Happy Camp in 2022) to promote their TV series Flourished Peony. At around 9:40 a.m., aboard the Mango bus (a special line from the nearest subway station to the media group’s office building), I learned that fan groups had planned for this meeting for a month. Many fans had arrived a week early to iron out details. Some camped out—or hired others to camp for them—to secure a better spot, bringing customized banners, flags, and other materials like hats and masks.

When we arrived at the show’s production base, the side road where celebrities typically show up and greet their fans was almost entirely blocked by crowds. Li’s supporters apparently had an upper hand, as they occupied the middle of the passage.

Against the wall on one side of the road and a barrier on the other, Li’s fans guarded their “territory.” A college student who I got to know on the bus tried to lead me through the crowd to their group, but someone guarding the passageway asked us to prove our “fan identity.” To do so, we had to show our rating on a Weibo topic dedicated Li Xian, a rank determined algorithmically based on engagement with relevant topics. Luckily, the college student was Level 8 out of 10. Since I was tagging along, I was also allowed through. One person who joined later told us how embarrassed she felt when it was revealed she was only at Level 1, with the gatekeeper scolding her, “How can you only be at the first level?”

We waited, unsure when the celebrities would show up. A college student surnamed Liu, who came from another Hunan city, asked me to take photos of her holding posters and banners of Li. She shared the photos on her WeChat Moments and said she’d waited more than 2,000 days for this.
About an hour later, some fan club leaders announced that Li had left his hotel. “He rides a silver multi-purpose vehicle!” “I don’t know his plate number; they said it’s blocked by the crowds.” This set off a spurt of chaos, with fans standing on stools, screaming, waving banners, and shouting slogans. Finally, at 12:43 p.m., the celebrities appeared—on the balcony, where they briefly waved to the crowd before disappearing.

Liu had to return to college, but many others stayed on the street, determined to wait for their beloved celebrities to finish filming. They were ready to wait several more hours, until nightfall, just for another chance to encounter them.

Blending ancient and new?

The Wuyi area has been the center of Changsha for over 2,000 years and is now a junction of the city’s three downtown districts. Alongside modern office buildings and shopping malls, there are four “historic blocks”—Baiguoyuan (“Ginkgo Fruit Garden”), Taiping Street, Chaozong Street, and Hualongchi Street—the only four surviving granite roads in the city from the early 20th century. Over the past two decades, these areas have been refurbished. For instance, the 375-meter main road of Taiping Street hosts around 100 shops, mainly selling food, drinks, and souvenirs, along with the former residence of Western Han dynasty (206 BCE – 25 CE) politician and scholar Jia Yi (贾谊). The buildings here are replicas of traditional structures, featuring gray brick walls, tiles, and wooden doors.

At Cheng Qian (程潜)’s former residence, also known as the Museum of Hunan’s Peaceful Liberation, at the entrance of Baiguoyuan, I encountered only a handful of visitors, including two locals in their 60s. When asked for sightseeing recommendations, one of them pointed out the Hunan First Normal University, where Chairman Mao Zedong had lived for nearly a decade as both a student and an employee in his youth. He suggested that it’s a place for those who enjoy “quiet” spots, rather than the bustling streets lined with graffiti and coffee shops. “Young people love renao (热闹, or bustle),” he said.

For those seeking history, it’s not lacking. Changsha boasts an urban history of nearly 3,000 years. In 1982, it was recognized as a national historical and cultural city by the State Council, joining the ranks of dynastic capitals such as Beijing, Nanjing, and Xi’an.

Much has been unearthed from this city. In the 1970s, the Mawangdui Han tombs—or tombs of Li Cang (利苍), the prime minister and ruler of Changsha State in the 2nd century BCE, his wife Lady Xin Zhui (辛追), and their son—were discovered in one of the city’s eastern suburbs. The excavation revealed more than 26,000 relics, including Xin’s well-preserved remains, and two pieces of one- to two-meter-long silk cloth weighing less than 50 grams each, which took modern researchers over three decades to replicate. From 1996 to 2011, during the construction of the Wuyi commercial area, six excavations uncovered bamboo and wood slips—used as the major medium for written records before paper—dating from the Han dynasty (206 BCE – 220 CE) and the Three Kingdom period (220 – 280), totaling more than 100,000 pieces.

Some of these relics are kept in the Hunan Museum and Changsha Jiandu Museum. However, much of the city’s more recent history was lost in the wars of the 20th century. In 1938, the Wenxi Fire—a result of Chiang Kai-shek’s “scorched earth policy” to prevent Japanese invaders from taking over local resources—burned for days, destroying most of the city’s infrastructure and causing more than 3,000 deaths. Over the past two decades, the city has made efforts to preserve what remains, though some sites have been criticized for being mere daka locations, or “over-commercialized.”

One site that is historic and popular is Orange Isle, which served as the base of the British Consulate in the early 1900s. This five-kilometer-long island in the center of the Xiang River is famous thanks to Chairman Mao’s poem “Changsha Tune: Spring in a Pleasure Garden.” It was here, by the river in 1925, that the young revolutionary, then in his 30s, wrote: “I wonder who / Upon this boundless earth, decides / All beings’ fall and rise?”

Today, visitors—especially the younger ones—arrive mostly with one question: How can I take a good photo with the sculpture of “Grandpa Mao”? Built in 2009, the sculpture is currently the largest Mao statue in the country, standing 32 meters tall and 85 meters long on a 2,400-square-meters base. In February, in response to complaints from residents about the difficulty of securing one of the 80,000 tickets released daily, the local government cracked down on huangniu (黄牛, scalpers). While the ticket is free, visitors must pay for the sightseeing mini-train to tour this isle.

When I visited one early afternoon, the sculpture was already surrounded by hundreds of people, many holding Chinese flags. Elsewhere, people enjoyed picnics and snapped photos, perhaps recreating images they’d seen online, or trying to start a new trend of their own.

Chen Jie, who was also visiting that day, rued that her two-day stay was too short. She’s already planning another trip to Changsha. “Probably to live here for a while,” she said, “to better experience authentic local life.”