Qufu was a nice change of pace from Jinan. Before even entering the temple of the famous philosopher, Confucius, I could feel the calm relaxed atmosphere.
The Confucius temple was filled with mossy tiles and grassy roofs. It lacked the crowds of Beijing, and the glamour of the Buddhist temples.
I felt at peace, as if the grasses on the roof and soft pallets embraced me.
In the most over grown areas, at the back of the temple grounds, were two buildings full of old stone tablets that had characters and images engraved on them, like a story.
I ran my fingers across them, following the grease stained trail of those before me, and felt as if the life of the stone hummed with my own inner energy. Not so good for the carvings to have so many people touch them, but there’s something lost when items are hidden behind glass cases.
The tour was amazing, which was good, because the journey to get there had been frustrating, as usual. We’d gotten stuck in Jinan traffic, missed our train, taken the late train which left us only a few hours before the temple closed, and then been driven to a hotel by our cab driver. I am quite proud of myself for being able to speak chinese well enough to argue with him and get him to drive us to the temple as we had originally asked.