Qinhuangdao Sea View Vacation: Slow Life Hidden in the Forest City The sea breeze in May, carrying the sweet fragrance of locust flowers, gently pulls me out of the hustle and bustle of the city.

Qinhuangdao Seaview Resort: Slow Life Hidden in the Forest City The May sea breeze, carrying the sweet fragrance of locust flowers, gently pulls me out of the hustle and bustle of the city. The Qinhuangdao No. 1 Seaview Resort Hotel where we stayed this time is hidden in the tree-lined Forest Yicheng Community. It is like a shell washed ashore by the waves, waiting for people to discover its gentleness and poetry. 1. Open the window to see the sea: invite the Pacific breeze into the room When you open the balcony door of the one-bedroom apartment you booked, the 90-degree corner sea view unfolds like a flowing oil painting. At five o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by the sound of waves. I saw with sleepy eyes that the morning glow was dyeing the sea surface into honey color. The fishing boats were slowly returning in golden light, as if they were good morning letters written by the sea to the world. The 180-degree panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows in the two-bedroom apartment are even more amazing. You can watch the ebb and flow of the tide while sitting on the sofa. When the waves hit the rocks, the splashing water droplets reflect tiny rainbows in the sunlight. In a trance, you will think you are living in the seaside castle in Hayao Miyazaki's animation. What I like most is the independent kitchen in the room, which is equipped with all kinds of pots, pans, and utensils in the original wood-colored cabinets. One morning after visiting the morning market, I came back with some fresh swimming crabs and mantis shrimps. While they were being steamed in water, I leaned on the windowsill and watched the seagulls flying over the waves. When the sweet steam fills the kitchen, the sea outside the window seems to become the scenery to accompany the meal. This kind of day with "fireworks in the left hand and stars in the right hand" is probably the best interpretation of "life is somewhere else". 2. Strolling time: 15 minutes of romance from the community to the coast Walking through the forest park downstairs to the beach has become the most anticipated "ritual" of the day. The woods in the early morning were filled with the scent of grass, squirrels were jumping on the branches, and dewdrops were sliding down the leaves, hitting the wooden plank road with a slight sound. After a 15-minute walk, you can see the coastline of Jinmeng Bay looming between the green trees. When you pass through the last locust tree forest, the entire blue sea suddenly comes into view - on the beach there are old men picking up shells with small buckets, children chasing the waves and laughing, and in the distance a sailboat floats on the sea like a silver leaf. In the evening, it is even more pleasant to take a walk along the coastline. The setting sun dyed the beach caramel color. On the mudflats where the tide receded, hermit crabs hurriedly crawled with their colorful shells on their backs, leaving behind a trail of tiny footprints. Once I met an old couple sitting on a rock. The grandfather was taking a picture of the grandmother. She was wearing a straw hat in the camera, and the smile on her lips was gentler than the sunset. It turns out that romance is never defined by age. As long as you face the sea, every moment can become the amber of time. 3. Human life: the warmth of the market outside Ximen The seafood market and morning market outside the west gate of the hotel are the best windows to experience the local atmosphere. The morning market at six in the morning is already bustling with activity. Fishermen are pushing the Spanish mackerel and yellow croaker that have just come ashore, with water droplets still glistening on the fish gills; the beans on the vegetable stalls are covered with morning dew, and middle-aged women are bargaining with stall owners while pinching cucumbers; the smell of wheat wafts from the steamed bun shop, and the moment the steamer is opened, the aroma of mutton stuffing wrapped in hot air hits you in the face. I often go to the seafood market with freshly baked mung bean cakes, watch the stall owners skillfully wash the mantis shrimps with sea water, and listen to them shouting in the seafood dialect with a fishy smell: "Girl, these swimming crabs are so fat and yellow!" I buy half a pound of clams and two conchs, then turn into the dumpling restaurant in the alley and order a plate of dumplings stuffed with Spanish mackerel. When I dip them in vinegar and bite them open, the delicious soup blooms on the tip of my tongue, which is warmer than any delicacies from land and sea. 4. Travel philosophy: Take a break between mountains and sea When you live here, even time becomes slow and gentle. In the afternoon, I sat on the rattan chair on the balcony and read a book. The sound of the sea breeze turning the pages of the book was intertwined with the sound of the whistle in the distance. In the evening, I went to the free parking lot to pick up the car and found a piece of locust flower fallen on the body of the car, but I was reluctant to brush it off. At night, I fell asleep to the sound of the waves and dreamed that I turned into a small fish and swam towards the endless deep blue in the sea under the moonlight. Some people say that the meaning of traveling is to escape, but I have found a sense of belonging to my "second hometown" here. There is no need to rush to tourist attractions or chase internet celebrities. Just cook a pot of seafood in the kitchen, watch a sunset at the beach, and listen to the hawking at the morning market, and you have stolen the most precious "slow" time in the world. Perhaps a true vacation is never about rushing around to check in, but about slowing down your pace, letting your heart dwell in the scenery, listening to the rise and fall of the sea breeze, and watching the years pass by. On the day I left, I took a photo of the sea from the balcony. In the camera, the waves are still tirelessly rushing towards the beach, and I know that one morning or evening, the sea will open its arms again, waiting to reunite with those who miss it. After all, some scenery, once engraved in your heart, will become an eternal concern.