Seven Days in Northern China: Glass Bridges, Ancient Walls and Delivery Robots

Wide view of dramatic rocky gullies and sandstone ridges beneath blue sky at Jingbian — The ridges and deep gullies of Jingbian Wave Valley, photographed during our tour.

A personal travelogue through Shaanxi and Shanxi, China, 14–20 September 2026.

A small delivery robot was making its way across the lobby of our hotel in Yan’an, heading towards the lifts with the quiet purpose of something that had a job to do. I found myself watching it for rather longer than was necessary. Nobody else seemed especially interested, which was understandable: in China, these machines were already an unremarkable part of hotel life. I was still getting used to the idea of an unattended machine collecting things from reception and navigating its way to somebody’s room.

Earlier that day, we’d been looking at sandstone cliffs covered with religious niches and centuries-old inscriptions. That contrast became one of the things I kept noticing over the week. We would spend a morning among old buildings or landscapes shaped over geological time, then find ourselves riding enormous escalators up a mountain, being taken around by battery cars, or watching robots come and go in hotel lobbies.

A white autonomous delivery robot parked in a hotel lobby — An autonomous delivery robot in a hotel lobby during our northern China tour.

This was a seven-day organised tour through Shaanxi and Shanxi, two provinces in northern China I knew relatively little about before travelling there. Leah and I were joining a Filipino-Chinese group of 29 travellers, including my mother-in-law and two of her sisters. Roughly half the group were seniors, and many of the others had travelled together before, so the two of us were effectively newcomers to an existing circle of friends and acquaintances.

The conversations moved between Hokkien, Ilonggo, Tagalog and English, depending on who was talking. I don’t understand Ilonggo, but most people spoke Tagalog, so it was seldom difficult to work out what was happening. With that many people and a fairly full itinerary, I expected a bit of waiting around and quite a lot of time on the bus. Both turned out to be true, although neither bothered me as much as I might have thought.

A Wagyu Burger Before Northern China

Our trip started in Singapore, where we left home a couple of hours before our flight so we could put our Priority Pass access to good use at Changi. We tried Tiger Bar this time and ordered a wagyu cheeseburger, which seemed a reasonable choice before handing over control of our meals to a tour itinerary. It’s a modest travel ritual, but I quite like those airport hours when the packing is finished and there’s nothing left to organise.

Aircraft parked beside an airport terminal on the journey to northern China — An aircraft parked beside the terminal on our journey north.

Guangzhou greeted us at around 30°C, hardly a major departure from the weather we’d left behind. We were staying overnight at the Novotel near the airport, although we initially got off at the Pullman next door. Since we were already there, we had dinner at its restaurant and eventually found our way to the right hotel. The rest of the group would arrive the following morning, so there was no elaborate reunion or first-night gathering, just dinner and a place to sleep.

Large arrival and departure hall at Guangzhou Airport with overhead signage — Passing through Guangzhou on the way to northern China.

We met our travelling companions the next day and continued north to Yulin, where we would meet the local guide. The temperature was a slightly more comfortable 27°C, and the airport provided an early reminder that everyday practical arrangements vary as you travel. Guangzhou had plenty of Western-style toilets; at Yulin, I noticed roughly one Western cubicle for every four squat toilets. It’s not the sort of detail that makes it into a glossy destination guide, but it matters when you’re travelling with a group containing so many older people.

The first hotel, Wanda Moments in Yulin, was a pleasant surprise. It was comfortable, the dinner was acceptable, and after the time spent in airports and on planes, I was quite happy not to do anything more ambitious. That became another recurring feature of the trip: the hotels were consistently well chosen, and a decent room at the end of a busy day made a noticeable difference.

Red Stone Gorge and the Shoppers Who Found Millet

Our first full sightseeing day began at Red Stone Gorge, or Hongshixia, near Yulin. The reddish rock is cut with niches, grottoes and religious figures, with old inscriptions carved directly into the cliffs. The place has long been valued for its calligraphy and rock carvings, left by people passing through this part of China over many generations. Rather than seeing individual objects behind glass, you’re looking at layers of human activity still attached to the landscape.

I found the smaller details particularly interesting: a deity set into a hollow, characters worn by the weather, changes in the colour of the stone around the carved surfaces. As a designer and someone who tends to photograph textures and architectural details, I can happily spend longer looking at those things than listening to an uninterrupted historical explanation. The setting was attractive in its own right, but the carvings gave you a sense of how long people had been using the gorge as more than just a route through the mountains.

View over the river and sandstone cliffs at Red Stone Gorge in Yulin, Shaanxi — The river, sandstone cliffs and historic rock-cut surroundings at Red Stone Gorge.

Visitors looking at red sandstone cliffs and grotto entrances in Red Stone Gorge, Yulin — Red sandstone cliffs and grotto entrances at Red Stone Gorge, near Yulin.

Painted statues of deities inside a sandstone grotto at Red Stone Gorge — Painted deities inside a rock-cut grotto at Red Stone Gorge.

Traditional Chinese temple façade set into a sandstone cliff at Red Stone Gorge — A temple façade built against the red sandstone cliffs of Red Stone Gorge.

A short moving view of the carvings and sandstone cliffs at Red Stone Gorge.

Lunch took place at a rural hotel that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. This presented a small problem for the serious shoppers in our group, because there was virtually nowhere around us to browse. The hotel lobby, however, was selling local products, including millet, and that proved sufficient. Several people came away with purchases, which taught me that a shopping opportunity doesn’t necessarily require an actual shopping district.

The Glass Bridge Looked Easier on Video

Later that day we reached Jingbian Wave Valley, where the sandstone formations were quite unlike anything we’d seen earlier. The curved bands of red and orange rock roll across the terrain in layered ridges and gullies. Their flowing appearance comes from ancient sedimentary layers exposed and sculpted by erosion, which explains why the scenery is so often compared with the American Southwest. In places, it looks like a landscape someone might have designed for a science-fiction film.

I’d seen videos of the glass-bottomed bridge before the trip and had thought it looked manageable. There is a considerable difference, however, between watching somebody else cross a transparent bridge on a screen and standing on one yourself when you’re afraid of heights. The seniors in our group decided not to cross, which I completely understood. I did make it across, although it required rather more concentration than the videos had led me to expect.

Undulating red sandstone beds and ridges at Jingbian Wave Valley — Curving layers of red sandstone at Jingbian Wave Valley.

Visitor walking across a tall glass-bottomed suspension bridge at Jingbian Wave Valley — A visitor crossing the glass-bottomed bridge high above Jingbian Wave Valley.

On the other side, the scenery was worth seeing, with formations that looked almost Martian. The attraction even had astronaut suits available to rent for photographs, an idea that sounded peculiar until you saw the reddish rock behind them. I explored a little, took in the landscape and eventually turned back. The fitter members of our group went on to complete the roughly three-hour walk down into the valley and back up to the visitor centre.

We arrived around midday, and it was properly hot among the exposed rock. The temperature became more comfortable later in the afternoon, but I was glad not to have committed myself to the longer trek. I didn’t feel I’d missed the entire experience by turning around when I did. There are occasions when a shorter walk and a good look around are enough, especially when several more full days of sightseeing are still ahead.

We had a long transfer to Yan’an afterwards, although I didn’t mind the one- or two-hour stretches on the coach. They were useful chances to sit down, recover and watch the scenery go by. By the time we checked into the Mercure, I was starting to appreciate how much a well-organised coach journey and a comfortable hotel could contribute to an otherwise demanding itinerary. The delivery robots in the lobby were an added fascination, at least for me.

Yan’an: Revolutionary History, Crowds and an Unusual Souvenir Shop

The next morning began at the Yan’an Revolutionary Memorial Hall, which tells the story of the city’s central role in the Chinese Communist movement. Yan’an was an important base for the Communist Party leadership between 1935 and 1948, and the museum gives that period extensive attention through photographs, documents and historical displays. For someone with a strong interest in revolutionary Chinese history, there would clearly be a great deal to explore. My own interests lean more towards architecture, social history and the experience of being in a place, so I wasn’t especially drawn to spending the entire morning inside.

By the time we arrived, the memorial hall was already full of local tour groups. The site guides spoke Mandarin, and our own guide had to translate into English for us, which wasn’t easy to follow amid the noise and movement. I asked whether I could look around independently, spent some time exploring the first level and then returned downstairs to sit with some of the older travellers. At Yangjialing, another revolutionary site on the itinerary, I decided to sit out the visit entirely and kept my mother-in-law company at the visitor centre.

Front exterior of the Yan'an Revolutionary Memorial Hall and its large memorial plaza — The entrance and broad plaza of Yan’an Revolutionary Memorial Hall.

Souvenir display with decorative objects made using spent bullet casings — Metal souvenir objects made from spent bullet casings at a Yan’an stall.

The souvenir stalls were more memorable to me than I expected. Among the usual tourist merchandise were objects made from actual spent bullet casings and other weapon-related items, some of which I photographed. I wasn’t about to buy anything that might require a lengthy explanation at Singapore customs, but it was an unusual collection to encounter at a sightseeing stop.

Lunch was at a restaurant with a wonderfully specific name: Old Yan’an Yan’an Cuisine — Millet Plus Rifle. Despite the rather martial branding, the food was excellent, and the meal was one of the pleasant surprises of the day. Good lunches became a reassuring constant throughout the tour, even when I wasn’t particularly engaged by the morning’s official programme.

Entrance of a Yan'an restaurant with Chinese lettering and a cartoon figure outside — The entrance to Old Yan’an Yan’an Cuisine — Millet Plus Rifle, where we stopped for lunch.

Hukou: The Yellow River and a Sign Not to Transcend

Hukou Waterfall was the afternoon’s main attraction, and the first thing I noticed was not the waterfall but the infrastructure surrounding it. The visitor centre stood some distance from the actual viewing area, with dedicated transport taking people further into the scenic park. Having watched the logistics involved in moving visitors around other large Chinese attractions, I was impressed again by how thoroughly the visitor flow had been planned.

The waterfall itself is a dramatic stretch of the Yellow River, where the broad flow narrows and drops through a constricted rocky channel. Its name means something like ‘kettle mouth’, an apt description of the way the water is funnelled into a smaller opening. This isn’t a delicate, white-water curtain of the sort you might expect on a tropical holiday; the sediment-heavy river looks dense and brown-yellow, and the force of the water is what makes it memorable.

Wide view of the sediment-rich Yellow River flowing between rocky hills near Hukou — The sediment-rich Yellow River flowing between rocky hills upstream of Hukou.

Hukou Waterfall rushing over a rock ledge with visitors along the viewing rail — The Yellow River plunging over the rock ledge at Hukou Waterfall, with visitors along the viewing rail.

The rushing Yellow River at Hukou, better appreciated in motion.

When we visited, workers were still putting up safety barriers around parts of the viewing area. Some of the English-language signage was unintentionally entertaining, particularly one that announced, ‘DO NOT TRANSCEND.’ I assume it was meant as an instruction not to cross a barrier, but it seemed to be asking rather more of visitors than simply staying behind the line.

There were lots of local tourists and, rather unexpectedly, plenty of pet dogs accompanying them. A few donkeys were also available for paid photo opportunities, so the place had a lively, slightly untidy holiday atmosphere despite the extraordinary natural spectacle nearby. I enjoyed that contrast: an iconic river landscape on one side and families, pets and souvenir photographs on the other.

English safety sign reading No Transcend at Hukou Waterfall above the river — An English-language safety notice beside Hukou Waterfall.

The onward drive to Yunqiu Mountain was long, but it provided another welcome chance to rest. We had a hearty dinner before checking into the Novotel Linfen Mount Yun, which was another very nice hotel. Unfortunately, we were staying only one night, a recurring frustration when the accommodation was particularly good.

A Mountain Ice Cave, Reached by Battery Car and Escalator

After breakfast we checked out and headed towards the ice cave at Yunqiu Mountain. By this stage I was becoming nearly as interested in the facilities surrounding the attractions as in the places themselves. From the bus parking area, visitors passed through a centre, boarded battery cars and then rode a series of long escalators up towards the cave entrance. The amount of work involved in making a mountain attraction manageable for large tourist groups was quite something.

It wasn’t especially hot at that elevation, but the refreshment arrangements caught my attention. There weren’t any cold-water dispensers where we stopped, although there was free hot ginger tea, which appeared to be the more appropriate drink for the location. At the entrance, visitors could borrow hooded coats at no charge. Helmets were compulsory, particularly for taller people, because some passages had low head clearance and it would have been quite easy to knock your head against the rock or ice.

Large steel tea urns and disposable cups at a complimentary ginger tea station near Yunqiu Mountain ice cave — Steel tea urns and disposable cups at the ginger-tea station near Yunqiu Mountain Ice Cave.

I used my own jacket rather than one of the loaner coats. It was already warm enough and tended to behave like a personal sauna when I wore it, so adding another layer didn’t seem necessary. The cave remained distinctly cold, however, and by the time we emerged my nose was running. Inside, there were ice-coated walls, curious formations and sections illuminated to reveal the shapes and textures. Some photo spots became congested when visitors took their time posing, but that was hardly unusual at a popular attraction.

Visitors in protective clothing and helmets inside an illuminated ice cave passage — Visitors wearing protective jackets and helmets inside the illuminated ice cave.

Pink and purple lighting illuminating ice-covered rock formations inside Yunqiu Mountain's ice cave — Pink and purple lighting across the ice-covered rock inside Yunqiu Mountain’s cave.

Walking through the illuminated ice formations at Yunqiu Mountain.

What made the visit memorable wasn’t just the ice itself. It was the entire sequence of getting there: the transport from the visitor centre, the escalators, the helmets, the coats and the adjustment from the mountain air to the cave’s cold interior. It was a carefully managed tourist experience, but an interesting one nonetheless.

Ta’erpo: Compact Houses, Outhouses and Alpacas

Ta’erpo Ancient Village, our next stop, was somewhere between an authentic old settlement and a managed heritage attraction. The houses were compact and plain compared with the grander historical buildings we’d seen elsewhere. Some reminded me of early versions of studio apartments, where the practical business of living had to fit into a small number of rooms. There were no bathrooms inside the houses we saw, with separate outhouses serving that purpose, some now also functioning as public toilets for tourists.

It’s easy to admire an old village simply because the walls and roofs look picturesque in photographs. Looking inside the houses adds another dimension, because you start thinking about how people lived in them when they were ordinary homes rather than places to visit. We didn’t see any craft demonstrations or performances during our walkthrough, which meant we mostly wandered and looked around. There were geese and alpacas as well, an unexpected combination of animals in an ancient village setting.

Rough stone wall and old village setting in Ta'erpo — Rough stonework on a traditional building in Ta’erpo Ancient Village.

Stone-paved lane and traditional stone houses with red lanterns in Ta'erpo Ancient Village — A stone-paved village lane, traditional houses and red lanterns at Ta’erpo.

Simple traditional room with low furniture and brightly patterned textiles — A traditional Ta’erpo room furnished with low furniture and patterned textiles.

Several alpacas resting behind a low wooden fence at Ta'erpo Ancient Village — Alpacas resting behind a low wooden fence at Ta’erpo Ancient Village.

We then had a long but restful drive towards Pingyao, stopping for dinner at the historic Shanxi Hotel. The building was grand, and the food was excellent, making it a memorable dinner stop in its own right. We eventually checked into Wanda Moments in Jinzhong, where we were booked for two nights. Not having to pack everything again the next morning was a small luxury after the pace of the previous days, and the appearance of more delivery robots in the lobby gave me something familiar to look at while everybody else settled in.

Elevated view over a modern Chinese town and street in Jinzhong — Buildings and roads seen from above in Jinzhong.

Pingyao: Photographing the City Wall Instead of Listening

Pingyao Ancient City turned out to be one of my favourite places to explore with a camera. We entered through one of the gates and climbed onto the city wall, although I missed much of our guide’s explanation because I was busy taking photographs. From up there, the tiled roofs and the tight pattern of streets and courtyards made a compelling view. It was the sort of place where I kept noticing another corner, doorway or line of rooftops that deserved a picture.

Pingyao is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of China’s best-preserved traditional walled cities. Its surviving layout and buildings provide an unusually complete view of an urban environment developed through the Ming and Qing dynasties. The wall, substantially rebuilt in 1370 during the Ming period, follows a circuit of about six kilometres, enclosing streets, houses, temples, commercial buildings and courtyards. Knowing some of that history helps, but the experience of looking down over the town was enough to hold my attention.

View of the historic fortified city wall of Pingyao with its towers and townscape — The ancient brick city wall of Pingyao, with towers and rooftops beyond.

Ancient Banks, a Curious Goat Bank and Vinegar Cola

After the walls, we boarded a battery car to another part of the ancient city and visited one of its historical banking establishments. Pingyao was once a major centre of finance and commerce in China. During the Qing period, merchant banking houses known as piaohao developed networks for transferring funds between distant cities using drafts, reducing the need to move large amounts of silver physically. It’s a surprisingly modern function housed within buildings that look very far removed from contemporary banks.

There was also an actual goat bank among the curious things we were shown, although I was evidently too occupied with photographs to come away with a proper explanation of it. That’s one of the hazards of carrying a camera around an old city: the visual details occasionally win out over the guided commentary. I can reconstruct some of the historical context afterwards, but a few of the odder stops remain memorable mainly because of what I saw.

Visitors on a wide historic street lined with traditional wooden shopfronts in Pingyao — Visitors passing traditional timber-fronted shops on a street in Pingyao.

Outside, the shopping streets were full of local products and souvenirs. I tried vinegar cola, a speciality that made good use of Shanxi’s reputation for aged vinegar. It tasted more or less as the name promised, with fizzy cola sweetness followed by the sharper, sour edge of Chinese vinegar. I was glad to try it, although I can’t imagine making it part of my regular drinks rotation.

Some shops selling pork products had pet pigs inside, which was certainly a curious bit of shop-floor company. Between those, the food stalls and the constant movement of visitors in traditional clothing, Pingyao felt part historic town and part tourist marketplace. I didn’t particularly mind the commercial side of it. Old cities have always been places where people traded things; the merchandise has simply changed over time.

Bottles of local beverages and condiments on display at a Pingyao shop — Bottled drinks and condiments on display in a shop in Pingyao.

Colourful pig-shaped figures inside a shopping street store in Pingyao — Pig-shaped ornaments and figures on display in a Pingyao shop.

Paper-Cutting and a Robe That Barely Fitted

We also had a lesson in traditional Chinese paper-cutting with a local master. I remember making a double-fish design and what I think was the double-happiness character, both familiar motifs associated with good fortune and auspicious occasions. Watching somebody experienced make a clean, balanced pattern is very different from attempting one yourself. The process looks simple, but once the folds and cuts are made, there is not much opportunity to correct a mistake.

I appreciated the craft as much for its design as for its cultural symbolism. A good paper-cut pattern is a small exercise in rhythm, symmetry and negative space, made with very ordinary materials. It’s one of those practical traditions that carries a surprising amount of visual sophistication without needing much equipment.

Traveller holding a red paper-cut Double Happiness character during a craft workshop in Pingyao — The Double Happiness character I made during our paper-cutting session in Pingyao.

Then came the period costume experience, and most people in our group were quite willing to join in. Leah and I dressed up, along with many of the other travellers, and the organisers managed to find robes that actually fitted me, although only just. We had some nice portraits taken together and several group photographs. With so many people in historical clothing, the session was good fun without needing to be taken particularly seriously.

Afterwards we had some free time in the shopping streets. I tried a novelty ice pop moulded into the shape of one of the old buildings or gates, while Leah bought a few trinkets and some local tanghulu. We later had dinner at a restaurant hotel inside the old city before returning to our hotel.

Couple wearing traditional Chinese period costumes together inside a hotel lobby — A pair of travellers in period-style Chinese costumes during the Pingyao dress-up experience.

Decorated traditional Chinese gateway over a lively street inside Pingyao Ancient City — A decorated traditional gateway above a busy street in Pingyao.

I subsequently found out that the tenth Pingyao International Film Festival was scheduled for 24–30 September 2026, just after our visit. Given my interest in films, that was a slightly frustrating near miss. I would have enjoyed looking around the festival, particularly in a town with such a distinctive setting, but the dates didn’t line up with our organised itinerary. It’s one of those things that happens when you aren’t the one setting the schedule.

Jinci Temple, Mostly Seen Between the Crowds

We left early the following day for Taiyuan and Jinci Temple, a historical complex associated with Tang Shuyu and the ancient state of Jin. Its buildings, courtyards, pavilions and gardens were developed over many centuries, and the complex includes some important surviving examples of traditional Chinese architecture. The Hall of the Holy Mother, dating from the Northern Song period, is especially notable for its timber construction and sculptural details. There was clearly a great deal to learn there, if you could hear the guide.

Unfortunately, we arrived to find the grounds already crowded with other visitors, and keeping track of the commentary was difficult. It was another hot day, somewhere around the 30°C mark, so the trees and shaded spaces became particularly welcome. I spent much of my time looking at the buildings, taking photographs and finding somewhere to sit when I needed to. There was no particular urgency to see every corner when we still had a full afternoon ahead.

Timber hall with ornate roof and columns at Jinci Temple, with visitors beneath it — An old timber hall with elaborately carved eaves and columns at Jinci Temple.

Historic Chinese gate tower with layered eaves at Jinci Temple — The layered eaves and timber structure of a Jinci Temple gate tower.

We had lunch at a restaurant within the temple grounds before continuing into Taiyuan. By that point, after several days of historical places, valleys, caves and long transfers, a stop in a busy urban shopping district would provide a very different sort of afternoon.

Liu Alley, Dinner on a Conveyor Belt and a Missing Traveller

Liu Alley was chaotic in comparison with the places we’d visited earlier. There were shoppers everywhere, shops and food businesses competing for attention, and a level of activity that reminded me of Shinjuku in Tokyo. The stop seemed particularly intended for the committed shoppers in our group, who finally had a proper commercial district instead of having to make do with millet in a rural hotel lobby. I was content to walk around and observe rather than shop in earnest.

Crowded night-time pedestrian shopping street in Taiyuan with bright Chinese shop signs — Shop signs and pedestrians along a brightly lit Taiyuan shopping street at night.

Taiyuan’s busy shopping streets after dark.

Dinner was at a spring barbecue buffet restaurant where food passed on a conveyor belt and diners selected what they wanted to cook on the individual grills in front of them. It was a pleasant change from our other group meals, and having to cook your own food made it a little more involved. We were nearing the end of the trip, so an enjoyable dinner and a straightforward journey back to the hotel would have been a perfectly good way to finish the day.

Close-up of the Chinese-language menu and cooking instructions on a tabletop grill — A Chinese-language menu and cooking instructions beside the tabletop grill.

A short clip from our self-cook barbecue dinner in Taiyuan.

Instead, one of our group went missing on the way back to the bus. With 29 people moving through a crowded city, it wasn’t impossible for somebody to become separated, but that didn’t make the situation any less worrying. The local police helped find the missing traveller, to everyone’s relief, and we were eventually able to continue back to the hotel. It was enough drama for one evening, and perhaps a reminder of how quickly a routine headcount becomes important when a large group is travelling together.

What Stayed With Me After the Tour

The final day was taken up with the journey back via Guangzhou, with the organised sightseeing behind us and luggage to get home. Looking back on the week, I can easily remember the obvious highlights: the layered sandstone of Jingbian, the Yellow River at Hukou, the unusual cold of the ice cave and the old streets of Pingyao. All of them were worth seeing, and some were places I would probably never have considered visiting independently.

What I remember just as clearly, though, is the practical side of the trip. I was impressed by the visitor infrastructure, the hotels chosen by the organiser and the generally good meals. The time on the coach suited me because it provided a chance to rest between attractions, and I appreciated that the older travellers could skip the more demanding activities without the entire group’s day coming to a halt. The trip was packed, but it was not uniformly exhausting.

Bright terminal concourse at the airport on the journey home — The bright airport departure concourse during the journey home.

Travelling with a big Filipino-Chinese group also gave the week its own character. Leah and I arrived knowing only a few people, while many of the others were already comfortable travelling together. There were different languages, different levels of energy, people who wanted to trek for hours and people who quite sensibly preferred a shaded bench. There were also those who could find something to buy almost anywhere.

An organised tour leaves less room to improvise, and there were places where I would have liked more time to wander independently, especially Pingyao. I would also have skipped a few stops if I’d been planning the route myself. But the trade-off was a week of travelling through unfamiliar parts of China without having to work out every transfer, ticket, meal or hotel, and that counted for quite a lot.

I came home with plenty of photographs and more small memories than I expected: the cheeseburger at Changi, millet for sale in a rural lobby, an astronaut suit against red sandstone, the vinegar cola, the elderly travellers sensibly refusing the glass bridge, and a delivery robot heading for the hotel lift. They aren’t necessarily the grandest moments from the trip. They’re simply the ones I find myself remembering.

Historical notes: Pingyao’s city walls and banking history are documented in UNESCO’s Ancient City of Ping Yao record. The tenth Pingyao International Film Festival was scheduled for 24–30 September 2026, as listed by Filmitalia.

Mixtape for the Apocalypse