Palace

Summer Palace

The Summer Palace is imperial China at its most theatrical — a vast pleasure ground of lakes, hills, pavilions, and covered walkways that Qing emperors used to escape the suffocating heat of the Forbidden City. Sprawling across 290 hectares on the northwestern edge of Beijing, roughly three-quarters of the complex is water, dominated by the man-made Kunming Lake and anchored by Longevity Hill, which is crowned with the octagonal Tower of Buddhist Incense. Construction began in the 1750s under Emperor Qianlong, who remodelled an older garden complex to celebrate his mother's 60th birthday. The result is less a palace in the European sense and more an entire landscaped world — temples, bridges, marble boats, and winding stone paths — designed to replicate the aesthetics of classical Chinese garden philosophy on a monumental scale.

The site carries real historical weight beyond its aesthetic grandeur. In 1860, Anglo-French forces looted and burned it during the Second Opium War. Empress Dowager Cixi then controversially diverted funds intended for the Qing naval fleet to rebuild and expand the complex in 1888, an act of imperial vanity that became emblematic of late Qing excess. It was burned again in 1900 by Eight-Nation Alliance troops during the Boxer Rebellion and subsequently restored once more. Walking the 728-metre Long Corridor — its ceiling beams decorated with over 14,000 painted scenes from Chinese history and mythology — you're essentially moving through a place that has been desired, destroyed, and reclaimed multiple times.

What makes the Summer Palace worth the trip over other Beijing sights is its sense of scale and breathing room. Renting a rowing boat on Kunming Lake on a clear morning, with Longevity Hill reflected in the water and the distant Western Hills beyond, is one of the more quietly spectacular experiences the city offers. The Suzhou Street canal market on the northern shore — built to let the emperor experience the feel of a merchant town — is a genuinely odd and fascinating detour that most visitors skip.

Practically, arrive at opening time to beat the tour groups that flood in by mid-morning, especially on weekends. The East Gate is the main entrance and closest to the metro, but the North Gate drops you closer to the less-visited parts of the complex. Wear comfortable shoes — even a reasonable circuit of the main sights involves several kilometres of walking, and the climb to the Tower of Buddhist Incense is steep. Audio guides are available at the gates and worth picking up; the layers of symbolism in the garden's design are easy to miss without context.