To Live Light in Lijiang

The two-hour bus from Dali crossed the arid mountain range, dropped to rolling green hills and leveled out into a heartbreakingly lush and beautiful valley glowing in warm late-afternoon sunlight. We rolled past pristine picturesque villages and poignant memories of a long-gone rural childhood and more innocent times were triggered by the site of schoolchildren strolling hand-in-hand, running, cycling and laughing their way home. About 20 minutes down the highway from this idyllic intro, we pulled into Lijiang, I grabbed a taxi bound for the Old Town section, disembarked and promptly failed to locate my hotel.

I had booked accommodations via one of the two big online travel websites in China, a very reliable service, but perhaps miscuing a bit on this excursion. The hotel’s description stated the location as being in the “Old Town” section of Lijiang, but there at the center of things, on the broad stone plaza near the waterwheel, I could not spot what should have been a fairly high profile structure among the ornate wooden two-story Naxi-style homes and businesses. There was one large and somewhat generic looking place fronting the square, so with no better strategy that’s where I headed.

I passed through the revolving doors into the lobby, paused to survey the scene and heard an American-sounding voice, “Yeah, you look like you could use some help.” I turned to see a dapper, sporty-looking Chinese gent, about 30, sitting with legs crossed on one of the big lobby couches.

“Right, looks that way,” I agreed, heading over. Unslinging my backpack and laptop case, I plopped into a big overstuffed chair and dug out my itinerary.

“I’m looking for this place.” “Frank,” a high-end guide who I learned also on occasion works with the Nature Conservancy China Program, took a look, shook his head and said, “Man, this place is way out. Nothin’ goin’ on out there. You don’t want to stay there.” I trusted his judgment. After a very brief discussion on the merits of the hotel in which we sat, Frank asked what kind of place it was that I was seeking. “Really clean, quiet, high-speed wireless, some English spoken.” And so, as has happened more than once in the course of my often impromptu travels in China, out came a cell phone and a helpful local assisted a semi-clueless Laowai. I then did not know with whom Frank chatted for about 30 seconds, but 10 minutes later, while he was offering some pointers on the town, a young guy marched into the lobby. I expressed my sincere appreciation to Frank, my newly assigned escort grabbed my backpack and we were off to wind our way trough the labyrinth cobblestone streets of Old Town Lijiang.

The seemingly circuitous and very pleasant route soon brought us to a place tucked into the pocket of a narrow side street, a place which otherwise would have remained invisible to me – the beautiful little Zen Garden Inn. Built about six years ago, modernized but jam-packed with expertly-crafted traditional woodwork and ethnic accents, here are elegant little rooms done up in a Tibetan motif, high-speed wireless, and a natural spring flowing into the open-air courtyard which wraps around the lobby and breakfast room. The place is run by the fluent-in-English and very gracious Yumei He, who shares ownership and operation of the place with her family. For me and other guests, she would prove to be of enormous help over the next few days. And so, in accommodations and my entrance into this fascinating part of China, I got dumb lucky.

Harmonizing in History
Built upon a plateau 2,600 meters above sea level, Lijiang dates back (at least) to the Southern Song period (1127-1279). In 1253, on his way to put the hurt on the State of Dali, Kublai Khan stopped off at this isolated place, floating his troops across the Jinsha River with inflated animal hides. About a half-century ago, Lijiang was described by the Russian author Peter Goullart in his thematically named "Forgotten Kingdom."

But the venerable city is no longer so isolated, and this region is no longer so “forgotten.” Lijiang was inscribed to the UNESCO List of World Cultural Heritages in 1997. Modern air-conditioned buses now roll in day and night, and a new airport facilitates many domestic routes.

In Old Town, the winding interlaced pedestrian streets branching from the central Sifang Street are lined with shops, bars and restaurants serving pretty much every Western cuisine, in addition to the local fare – which in a given place would likely be cooked up by a member of the region’s several ethnic groups: The Naxi, Bai, Dai, Miao, Yi, Lisu, Pumi, Zhuang, Tibetan, and Hui. At peak times the main drags get crowded, and on the narrower paths avoiding the back-end of a slow-moving tour group can at times be a hopeless objective.

At night along the busiest of the nightlife boulevards, Xing Hua Street, the seemingly always smiling and exuberant village girls who make up the staff of the restaurants and bars compete in song for customers. A group will assemble and lay musical siege to an adjacent establishment, singing out boastfully in loud and high-pitch perfect Naxi harmony. Then the opposing group will fire back with a blasting and good-natured vocal barrage. Often customers of both the Western and Chinese variety will join in.

It all gets pretty noisy. And the far less talented boozed-up vocalizing of Laowais and out-of-town Chinese can be a little painful to the ears. My first night in town, the ruckus made it hard to hear most of what my dinner companion was saying. And, while the melodic mayhem was charming and novel, on subsequent evenings I dined within slightly more sedate settings. Many restaurants and cafés of all types overlook the willow-lined streams that snake through town – a part of an ancient, intricate, and still very successful municipal water system.

Leisurely at Lashihai
Old Town is the place to dally and dine, but the countryside is the place to go. Lijiang is surrounded by a diverse and beautiful landscape, including the imposing Jade Dragon Mountain and the Hengduan Mountain Range.

The first full day in town, after an extraordinarily patient 40-minute assist from the Zen Garden staff, I located a quality mountain bike. Owned by friendly teenager, it was new, set up with decent components and a seat post that extended to the required height, and he billed me 50 yuan for the day. It was this vehicle – and a substantial volume of sweat – that first got me lost in the hills, then up into the Hengduan Mountains, then down to the shores of the Lashihai Wetlands three hours later.

Set aside for official protection in 1998, ranging from 2,440 to 3,100 meters above sea level, the Lijiang Lashihai Plateau Wetland Nature Reserve spans 65 square kilometers in central Lijiang City. Included in the greater reserve are not only Lashihai Lake, but also Wenhai Lake, Jizi Reservoir and Wenbi Reservoir. In winter about 10,000 varying water fowl fly in to take up temporary residence.

Besides bird watching, visitors to the Wetlands can hire a boatman for a row on the clear waters, ride a horse along the tranquil shoreline, or just enjoy the serene setting and mountain views.

Browsing in Baisha
About 10 kilometers north of Lijiang Old Town is Baisha Village, a quaint example of Naxi Dongba culture (Dongba meaning “the intelligent”). Besides the usual hand-woven textiles, handicrafts and local cuisine, operating out of his Baisha-based office crammed with printed PR materials and a haphazard lab full-up with exotic local medicinal herbs is The Famous Dr. Ho.

Born in September of 1923 in Lijiang, The Doc graduated with a PhD from Nanjing University in 1949. Today he runs the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain Chinese Herbal Medicine Clinic.

I am not the first to discover him – nor the 10,000th, it would seem. The silver bearded Dr. Ho is, in fact, pretty well-known in the world of TCM (traditional Chinese medicine). He’s been covered by state publications in China, and by at least a few foreign magazines and newspapers. And one might guess that thousands of Doc Ho photos have been plastered on the Web by travelers.

Of particular note, one of these is Monty Python veteran and professional wanderer Michael Palin, who spent some time with The Doc. His own recounting and photos are on the “Lake Lugu to Lijiang” pages of his website, www.palinstravels.co.uk.

Just as I was about to depart The Doc’s Global Headquarters, preceded by two assistants a beautiful young Russian woman entered. She appeared very (very) healthy, and I could not guess and did not intrude to query as to what ailed her, if anything. But I shot a few photos and – though the remarkable Russian cast a few perhaps suspicious glances at the average American – none present seemed to mind. Especially not The Doc and his publicity-prone son and assistant, the energetic, gregarious and determined Ho Shulong.

Meandering on Mountains
Sustaining home and business, the waters which for centuries have flowed through Old Town’s open aqueducts source from Black Dragon Pool at the base of Elephant Mountain, which rises steeply within Black Dragon Park. The gate to this serene scene is about a 20-minute stroll from the Old Town section.

This is a world-class and very Chinese setting, and if your cardiovascular system and leg muscles are up to the challenge, two sets of stone steps steeply traverse each side to the top of Elephant Mountain. There, after a 45 or 60-minute hike up, one can enjoy a 360-degree panoramic view of the park, all Lijiang, the valley and surrounding mountains.

The steps are steep, and a fall on the sharp stone edges would not be pleasant, so the writer recommends care on the descent. Once reaching the bottom, he also recommends taking a break (and grabbing a cold beer) at the pleasant open-air café on the shore of Black Dragon Pool, at the base of Elephant Mountain.

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