July 1, 2026
Plan A lasted about four hours
I stepped off the plane at Baiyun Airport with the whole trip folded in my pocket: ten days, color-coded, every transfer timed. I had memorized the metro map on the flight over, the way some people memorize song lyrics. Then the doors opened, and Guangzhou was warmer, louder, and greener than any map had warned me.
The volunteers led us onto the metro, and I admit I checked the line map above the doors about forty times. At the interchange station I stood still for a second just to watch the crowd split and re-merge like water finding its level. My schedule said transfer, four minutes; the city clearly had other ideas, and somehow we still made it.
At night someone pointed across the Pearl River, and there it was: Canton Tower, the little waist, cycling through more colors than I own in highlighter form. My plan for day one ended at half past nine. I stayed out past that, watching the river, and for once I did not check the time.