Yangzhou has been famous for so long that the fame itself is part of the place. Every Chinese traveller knows the line about going down to Yangzhou in the third month when the blossom is like smoke; the emperors came, the poets came, and the salt merchants who paid for it all built gardens so they would have somewhere to receive them.
It sits on the north bank of the Yangtze where the Grand Canal crosses it, and that intersection is the whole story. For most of two thousand years the canal was the north–south arterial of the empire, and the salt administration sat here, so the city was rich in a way that left physical evidence: at its peak there were more than 200 private gardens inside the walls, and the eighteenth-century verdict was that Hangzhou wins on lake and hills, Suzhou on its markets, and Yangzhou on its gardens.
What survives is smaller and quieter than that, which is why it is nice to visit. Slender West Lake is a narrow ribbon of water threaded with bridges and pavilions; Ge Garden and He Garden are the two great survivors of the salt era, one famous for rockery, the other for a 1,500-metre double corridor; and the old town around Dongguan Street is a grid of lanes, workshops and food stalls that people still live in.
It is also the easiest city in China to eat well in. Huaiyang cuisine — one of the country's four great schools, older than most of them — was refined here by merchants who had the money to be fussy, and it shows in the knife work, the gentle seasoning and the breakfast culture of teahouses that open at dawn and finish by ten.