This is an adapted review from my blog (Drafts from My Coffee Table), which can be accessed by clicking on my name above.

Being a tourist spot most visited by locals and tourists alike, it wasn't easy to find a quiet spot in West Lake, but they do exist. There would be moments when a break appeared between the riot of crowds or a spot which was missed by the mass. It was at those times where I understood how this lake enthralled and inspired poets and artists of the past. The tranquility was unmistakable.

Motorboats occasionally broke the peaceful scene with their thrumming engines, the surface of the lake rippling with waves. Some captains seeking passengers would approach anyone standing near one of the simple piers dotted around the lakeside, trying to get some business by ferrying passengers. I wonder what the ancient poets would write about such modern contraption barging noisily over the lake.

West Lake in itself was charming, but with only the verdant as its colour palette would have been too monochromatic. Fortunately spring brought with it other hues to the scene - pink, the colour of cherry blossom. My exploration into the nook and cranny of the recreational area of West Lake brought me into the encounter with a group of men. And it was an extraordinary group of gentlemen in preparation of a celebration. Fortunately for my camera, their poses were set in stone literally - that is they were all statues.