On a nine-day trip to China with the GHF (Global Heritage Fund), I explored some truly incredible, off-the-beaten-path historical sites, including my favorite stop, the ancient walled city of Pingyao.

The Qiao Compound, located around eighteen miles from historic Pingyao city, was the setting for Raise the Red Lantern.

Once the private residence of a wealthy merchant, the Qiao Compound has six large and nineteen smaller courtyards and is now a popular museum.

Nearly every ancient Chinese city was surrounded by a wall, but, in the name of progress, most have been torn down. Pingyao is one of the few cities whose walls are intact.

Dating from the Ming Dynasty, the crenellated city wall has been repaired over time, but it remains virtually unchanged.

Pingyao’s wall has six gates, each facing a different direction. Because this creates an outline resembling a turtle, Pingyao is sometimes called the “Turtle City.”

Rebuilt in 1370, Pingyao’s wall comprises four towers, seventy-two watchtowers, and more than 3,000 “crenels” or battlements, all surrounded by a moat.

Pingyao is considered the best-preserved ancient city in China. After the country’s first draft bank was established here in the nineteenth century, it became a rich banking capital.

I was excited to spy Pingyao’s massive, thirty-two-foot-high crenellated walls in the distance, but as we approached the “New City” outside the walls, I wondered if I really would glimpse the past after all.

A host of new construction projects, together with the dry climate, made for a dusty, chaotic scene.

Although vehicular traffic is restricted within the walls, the streets outside are clogged with bicycles, motorized bikes, and carts. Pedestrians must proceed with caution.

A poor city, Pingyao could never afford to raze its walls as other cities did; so, happily—and uniquely—they are almost fully intact today.

As we passed through the gates into the protected inner city, I was astonished to spot a camel—one clue to the fact that this remote outpost is starting to cater to the tourist trade.

We enjoyed observing the townsfolk going about their business, some sitting on stoops that are the equivalent of our front porches.

Not surprisingly, red lanterns hang from many of the city’s buildings and storefronts.

The town is organized in a grid made up of four main streets (North, South, West, and East), eight branch streets, and seventy-two lanes—making it easy to find one’s way around.

Courtyard houses, usually one or two stories high with four sides, are typically made of earth, brick, and wood, topped with steep, decorative roofs of grey tile, and built around a private inner courtyard.

This example of an inner courtyard could be found at our hotel, the Jing Residence.

Our group of Global Heritage Fund board members and leaders.

Street life here seems to have remained unchanged over the centuries. Cars are prohibited, leaving the quiet roads to pedestrians and cyclists.

The main streets of Pingyao, lined with vendors selling curios, resemble an endless street bazaar.

Pingyao has some of the best-preserved traditional architecture in China, constructed during the late Ming and Qing dynasties.

Once the most important trading and financial center in China, this prosperous city was home to some of the country’s earliest commercial banks.

At one of the many restaurants that dot the streets, uniformed staff serve locals and visitors.

As I walked along cobblestone streets bathed in the glow of red lanterns, protected by the town’s ancient walls, I felt as if I were in a movie.

Street vendors displayed the traditional Chinese craft of paper-cutting (jianzhi), which is still popular today.

Now that Pingyao has been “discovered,” getting here is easier and an increasing number of vendors hawk cheap souvenirs. I share the locals’ concern that its authentic character will disappear.

In every part of China I’ve visited, no matter how remote or bustling, it seems there are vendors ready to provide a quick bite of local food.

Even in this relatively remote locale, street fare included international favorites: Italian espresso, pizza, and “wholemeal” bread.

Regrettably, much of what is marketed to tourists resembles what you would find in the Chinatown neighborhoods of New York or San Francisco—although there is slightly more variety.

The tiny (less than one square mile) ancient city was constructed according to a very logical, symmetrical, and rectilinear Han plan in which the main north-south streets end at the city gates.

South and West Avenues are lined with shops and buildings dating back to the Ming and Qing Dynasties.

The only hotel in the city located in a historic courtyard building, the nineteen-room Jing Residence at 16 East Street is the former home of a Qing Dynasty silk merchant. It has been meticulously restored to its former glory.

As we passed through the tall wooden doors of the 260-year-old house, we left the noisy street behind and entered a serene world of the past. The typically hospitable proprietors welcomed us with tea.

Jing Residence was opened a few years ago by Yang Jing, a Beijing-based businesswoman who used part of the fortune she’d amassed in the steel business to fulfill her long-held dream of owning a courtyard house.

Once Yang Jing had begun renovations, her elderly next-door neighbors offered to sell her their ancient homes as well, so they could move into newer residences. She turned those courtyard houses into a boutique hotel.

This was our first view of one of the open courtyards sheltered within the black brick and gray-tiled houses.

We felt cloistered from the world in the open courtyards of the Jing Residence. The original upturned eaves, gray tile roofs, and brick-paved walkways have been superbly renovated.

Jing Residence is furnished with modernized versions of classical Chinese furniture made of precious, exotic wood. The elegant style of the decor still seems fresh.

The silhouettes of the rooflines are eye-catching; dragons and other animal sculptures are often featured among the decorative elements.

Thanks to our hotel’s courtyard design, I woke within a quiet cocoon, hearing only the sounds of birds and none of the bustle of the town.

Our GHF group took a tour of the property so we could fully admire the interesting architectural details.

This little boy crossed the street to take a closer look at us, curious about the foreigners.

Across the street from our residence was a house in need of renovation.

From our window, we watched our neighbors’ daily activities.

Before the official dinner, we sipped cocktails with the official Chinese delegation.

Judy Koch, Jasmine Arneja, and Sandee McCaffrey.

Marie-Françoise Bertrand, Jeanne Lawrence, Edwina Sassoon, and Jasmine Arneja.

For dinner, a long table was set up in the in the cozy, candle-lit dining room.

Cathy McMurtry.

Lucie Jay.

Marie-Françoise Bertrand.

Jan Scholes.

Linda Chen.

Our vegetable soup arrived swirled in a yin-yang pattern of carrots and spinach.

Lucie Jay and Cathy McMurtry sample some of the many varieties of noodles for which this province is known.

After dinner, I ventured out alone to immerse myself in the historic atmosphere of Pingyao.

On West Street, I passed many commercial shops, guesthouses, and restaurants such as this one.

As the hour grew late, the vendors packed up their wares and headed home.

In China, many kinds of work continue around the clock. Although it was past the dinner hour when I took my walk, construction workers were still on the job.

Street-food hawkers prepared to feed the late-night crowd.

The cobblestone streets were lit with the glow of Pingyao’s many red lanterns.

Stylized, oversized lanterns at the Jing Residence greeted me as I returned to the hotel.

Dramatic night lighting enhanced the Jing courtyard’s architectural features. As I strolled to my room, I felt Pingyao’s magic.