There are a number of places in the east of China today where you will find the old grinding against the new and Hangzhou, in Zhejiang province, is surely one of them.

With more than 50,000 years of history, from the Jiande people of the Neolithic era to today, Hangzhou is one of China's oldest cities. The environs around the famous West Lake still contain echoes of the past. But soak it up while you can ¨C the shadow is growing from the shining office blocks, plush apartment buildings, and the jagged skyline glinting like dragon teeth of the new China slowly rising above the eastern lakeshore. To take its full measure, this area is best viewed from the rocky outcropping of Geling Hill that lies on the northwest shore; the view of the city baying at the water¡¯s edge is a startling vision of what some regard as progress, and others lament as destructive change.

Swathed in mist, it is possible to imagine the West Lake looks much as it did in the 13th century. During the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms Period, the city served as the capital of the Wu and Yue Kingdoms. The city gained in importance during the Sui dynasty with the building of the Grand Canal, which served as a transport link between north and south China. In the Tang dynasty the region witnessed rapid economic and cultural development and the West Lake was created on the western edge of the city. Later, political and economic prosperity in the Southern Song dynasty saw the city established as the capital. It was during this period that Marco Polo visited.

Famed throughout history for its opulence, its rich palaces and fine baths, the city was the port from which the legendary baochuan sailed, the ¡°treasure ships¡± of the Ming. In more recent times, it was opened up to foreigners in 1895 under the Treaty of Shimonoseki. Opulent villas arose around the lake edge, the holiday residences of wealthy entrepreneurs and businessmen from Shanghai.

It takes several days to get beneath the veneer of commercialism, the business acumen of the market stalls and the high street shops, but residents retain a sense of the importance of leisure and relaxation. Liu Bang pushes his bike along the causeway built by the governor Bai Juyi in the middle of the Tang dynasty, several wooden birdcages balanced carefully on the rear passenger seat. With ritualistic care he hangs the cages in a tree already home to several similar cages and their feathered occupants, alert black mynah birds. As the birds begin their well-rehearsed refrains, early morning strollers stop to laugh at the mimics, Liu Bang looking on with a proprietary air. "Gongxi facai," and the small crowd clap their approval with delight. A small boy tries his luck with ¡°shenjingbing,¡± only to be scolded by his mother.

As the morning winds pick up, skilled kite flyers put together delicate homemade kites ¨C fragile butterflies, birds of prey, and colorful expansive creations. Wang Xinhu crouches under a spreading willow tree, deftly tying his kite line to the back of a grey, extremely lifelike buzzard. Placing the kite on the ground he walks away down the causeway and across a stone bridge, slowly letting out the line as he goes. After a dramatic pause he gently tugs the string and the bird rises on the breeze and is soon sweeping over the waters, Wang¡¯s experienced hand drawing gasps from the spectators as the bird touches the water on a swoop.

Held in the embrace of hilly peaks on three sides, the West Lake comprises five distinct sections. The largest part is bounded by the North Inner Lake, Yuehu Lake, West Inner Lake, and Lesser South Lake. The lake and the surrounding countryside have all the elements of a traditional Chinese garden but on a grander scale. In springtime, the myriad of blossoms are enhanced by a treasury of sculptures, small pavilions, and, according to Marco Polo, 12,000 bridges ¡°built with such lofty arches so well designed that big ships can pass under them without a mast, and yet over them pass carts and horses.¡±

Along the main Sudi causeway, Wang Anshi is busy painting characters in water on the paved tarmac, pale in one hand, an oversize brush in the other. With broad strokes and deft movements the characters of ji le shi jie ("world of supreme bliss") appear on this unusual canvas, lasting for several minutes before fading on the warm stone. Cyclists heading to work swerve around Wang, craning to see the artwork while careening along. "It is good exercise," says Wang taking a short break. "It lets me practice my brushwork and people can appreciate the characters." Taking up brush and pale, Wang continues his strange painterly dance down the causeway.

Back atop Geling Hill, Zheng Baoling is busy leading a group in clapping exercises. The clearing mists of the lake are the backdrop to this daily ritual, with the Bao Chu pagoda, which dates back to 968 AD, rising in the foreground. "Everything that is old in Hangzhou must be used to make money," he says. "If it's not used it has no value and will be destroyed." This pragmatic view seems to sum up the city. What remains of the Grand Canal is little more than a muddy trickle. The famed harbor slowly silted up during the Ming dynasty.

Fires and riotous events destroyed many of the wooden structures in the city. Nevertheless, despite mass tourism and commerce, the city retains its grip on the imagination of China and the world. Today, tourists are the new commodities, bringing a buzzing life to the streets and the funds to preserve what remains.

There is an old Chinese saying: born in Suzhou, live in Hangzhou, eat in Guangzhou, die in Liuzhou. Rich living and stunning natural scenery provide the inhabitants with a paradise on earth, a place that has retained its reputation to this day.