Hello, I’m Evelyn. I’m an educator by profession and a wanderer by nature — someone who finds joy in poetry, slow mornings, quiet rivers, and discovering the stories behind every place I visit. For the past few years, I’ve been living in Guilin, a city whose natural beauty and tranquil rhythm have gently transformed the way I view life, work, and myself.
As a woman, I often find that travel isn’t just about discovering new places — it’s about reclaiming space, nurturing wonder, and creating quiet moments of joy in a world that often moves too quickly. Guilin, with its misty mountains, karst peaks, and glassy rivers, invites stillness. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t ask for your attention; it earns it. And for someone like me — who values balance, reflection, and deep cultural connection — that’s everything.
A Life in Guilin: Where Learning Meets Living
By day, I work in the education field, teaching and mentoring students at a local school. It’s incredibly fulfilling — not just because I get to guide young minds, but because I also learn from them. Their curiosity and energy inspire me to keep exploring, not just in the classroom, but in the world beyond it.
Guilin has provided the perfect backdrop for this kind of life. The pace is slower here, the air feels softer, and the people are warm in that quiet, generous way you often find in smaller cities. I love riding my bike along the Li River, passing by fishermen with cormorants and old women selling fruit from woven baskets. There’s a kind of poetic simplicity here that resonates deeply with me.
My apartment has large windows that look out toward the hills. In the mornings, I sip jasmine tea while watching the mist roll in over the peaks — a scene that never fails to center me before a day of teaching. In the evenings, I’ll sometimes walk to the nearby lake, where elderly couples dance and children chase fireflies. It’s a gentle life, but a deeply rich one.
Escapes into Nature and Culture
Guilin’s location is a dream for a woman who loves to explore. Weekends are my time to reconnect with nature and myself. Sometimes I’ll take a slow train or a bamboo raft ride down to Yangshuo, a nearby town that feels like something from a storybook. There, I spend hours wandering through the countryside, stopping to admire terraced fields or join a watercolor class in a quiet village studio. The air smells of osmanthus and fresh rain, and the silence is profound.
I also adore visiting Longji Rice Terraces — especially in the early spring when the paddies are filled with water, reflecting the sky like a mirror. Climbing the stone paths between the fields, with my camera in one hand and my thoughts in the other, has become one of my favorite rituals. It’s not just a hike — it’s a kind of meditation.
There are also the Reed Flute Cave, the Seven Star Park, and countless small temples, bridges, and old towns that surround Guilin. I like to explore them at my own pace, often alone, carrying a small notebook where I jot down the things I notice — a grandmother lighting incense, a child offering lotus seeds to a turtle in a pond, the way light filters through paper lanterns on a rainy afternoon.
A Feminine Approach to Travel
I’ve often felt that women travel differently — not always farther, but often deeper. We move through the world with a certain alertness, a quiet strength, and an openness to subtlety. For me, travel is an act of self-care as much as it is discovery. It’s about knowing when to pause, when to listen, and when to breathe.
I don’t need adrenaline or grand hotels to feel fulfilled on a journey. I find luxury in calm — a locally made scarf found in a hidden shop, a bowl of handmade noodles eaten by a window with a view, a moment of connection with a stranger who speaks no English but smiles with their whole face.
My femininity informs how I experience the world. It means I sometimes walk slower, stay longer, ask softer questions, and notice more. And I embrace that. I believe there is something quietly powerful in traveling as a woman — especially when we do it on our own terms, with grace, curiosity, and confidence.
Why I Write and Share
This blog is my space to share not just where I go, but how I feel — as a woman, as an educator, as a person continually learning from the places she visits. I want to show that meaningful travel isn’t always grand or far away. Sometimes, it’s in the rhythm of your daily walk, in the discovery of a tea shop you’ve passed a hundred times, or in the decision to go somewhere new just for the joy of it.
I hope my writing resonates with other women — especially those who feel deeply, live gently, and dream of seeing the world without losing their sense of self. Guilin has given me so much — peace, perspective, and poetry — and I’m honored to share even a small piece of that with you.
Thank you for reading. If you ever find yourself in southern China, with a backpack full of curiosity and a heart open to beauty