Planalto Cycles

In the morning the next goodbye was with Ludo, besides Efan & Leo only the Austrians were left. We Austrians drove together to the Green Lake. I actually wanted to take the subway (challenge, you know!), but to simplify coordination, I t went with their taxi. If all goes well, it’s quite quick for digital natives or optimistic adopters to get a taxi via Alipay or WeChat, both of which are connected to “Didi”, the equivalent of uber.
It was strange to revisit the places Tony, Leo, Efan, and I had visited on my first, pre-official day in Kunming—a good opportunity to let the melancholy run free.

From home, Efan still held her protective hand over us and guided us to the same restaurant we once had visited, even recommending what and especially how to order, but it was fully booked until 4pm. So, we had much simpler food.

Back at Forest University, Kathi, Reini, and I were the next farewell candidates. Michi would be staying in Yunnan for a few days and leaving China even later than Efan and Leo. Even Efan’s parents came to say goodbye. Ultimately, I managed to get through the situation without escalation and without bursting into tears , but it’s hard to know people you’ll never see again, and it’s also hard to have people you care about scattered across the planet instead of having them around you.

To better orient myself at Kunmingnan (=Kunming South) train station, I visited it after saying goodbye and practiced the route between the station and a nearby hotel.

It may be a capsule hotel, but ultimately it simply offers an indoor tent 2.0 experience, where you can control the light color inside and rely on electricity for exiting and for oxygen supply.

I had two long phone calls with one of two ladies who had properly organized everything for the transfer from Fuzhou (China’s mainland) to three of the Matsu Islands and Taiwan, but due to an approaching typhoon, no ferries are running. So, everything had to be rescheduled by two different agencies before being coordinated by a third in Vienna. It starts with the ferries, of course, but as far as Taiwan is concerned, it’s a step back in the paper world because someone must hand out the tickets on the islands—just as an example of all the details involved. I passed the new information on to Jing (mainland) via WeChat and just wanted to mention that today is Sunday and everything happened between 9:00 p.m. and 11:30 p.m.

In the morning, I tried to find a small surprise gift for Fiona, who had accompanied us for the past few days and was always kind and friendly. She also became a friend to miss, the third friend who had to leave the group earlier. It wasn’t easy to find something when you don’t speak Chinese and most of the shops are closed, but it gave me the opportunity to see Lijiang waking up (or still awake).

Then we took the train back to Kunming, and the next goodbye when we arrival, as Mari directly went to the airport. The rest of the continuously shrinking group had an incredible mushroom dinner with Efan’s parents, where Michi was able to connect to Efan’s father to visit botanical garden with a guide later.

Why we received another gift, this time from Efan’s mother, I can’t explain, the less after this trip that was an overwhelming gift in so many ways.

For us, the dorm was like coming home and at the same time part of the farewell.

We (Reini & Kathi, Ludo, Tony and I) spent our last night in the dormitory at Forest University (Michi would leave a day later). Next farewell: Tony. He would be leaving early in the morning to prepare for his move to Melbourne (to study).

Efan called everyone to wake them up because she’d noticed clear skies promising an incredible sunrise—and we got it!

It was a good replacement for the 30-km monster hike we’d cancelled due to weather uncertainty and some time pressure (getting up very early still wouldn’t have been enough to get back in time to meet up with the relaxed group in Liijang).

But we still had a decision to make: either going down from upper to lower village and back the same way with all the motorcycles, or take an alternative route with the risk of being blocked by a landslide and being forced to return to the upper village and stay on the normal path. The locals didn’t know any more than we did, but in the end, we took the risk and didn’t regret it.

A terrifying four-hour drive brought us back to Lijiang. Not only did our own driver raise our blood pressure, also other drivers followed the idea that some Chinese more or less don’t matter more than gambling when overtaking without sight. Later, Efan told me that some try to evade the speed check by changing lanes, which presents an additional challenge. (In Austria, you can’t outsmart the speed check by changing lanes.)

I’d never seen trucks with light shows like those at an amusement park before. I wondered if that made them more visible or distracted other drivers. (No photos available, a bit like above but animated)

We met the relaxed group playing foosball and billiards at a bar.
There weren’t many non-alcoholic drinks available, and they had disheartening names like “Pussy Foot.”
Then I played pool for the first time—something I’d previously associated with the underworld or so. Three Chinese girls joined us, and they could be an example of my “or so”: Their faces were those of teenagers to me (“early twenties,” Efan corrected me), their spectacular fingernails would a naïve and at the same time suspicious guy like me connect with a profession forbidden in China And then they offered us cigarettes, placing their own as casually as possible in the corner of their mouths, but not lighting them as long as they remained in the room—perhaps out of consideration for a hare’s foot like me?

Between 11:30 p.m. and 3:30 a.m., our group retreated bit by bit to the hotel.

No motorbikes this time, but mules, which is more pleasant, but still irritating when you see young people being carried up for their Instagram (etc.) posts and staring at their phones most of the time.

At the highest point, a cow was waiting for all the hikers/tourists, a little too interested in other people’s food, which is anyway unhealthy not only for cows. Michi, Ludo, and Fiona even went down to the lake, while Efan, Leo, and I wanted to rest our knees (we had a long descent ahead of us anyway), conserve our breath, and save our energy. It didn’t seem worth it, but then they showed us photos worth to regret our decision.

We chose a different route back, with a “No Trespassing” sign at the beginning, mainly because of the black bears, who occasionally like to pick up a tourist, but the scariest moment was when two mules made a full speed race downhill. It didn’t look like they were willing or able to react to random hikers.

Finally, we reached the village entrance, where a garden restaurant awaited us. A fantastic atmosphere – the long hike behind us, the incredible view around us, and good food in front of us. And then three ladies in traditional costumes began a dance around a fire. Ludo and Michi immediately joined them, the ice was broken, and a large crowd streamed around. Leo and I stood at a safe distance, pretending that our job was to document the situation. The rain drove us home.

On this trip, I mostly slept briefly and poorly. This is another reason why I think I should give up traveling and instead organize my daily routine to find some inner peace in my (personal!) life that doesn’t justify my permanent stress levels.
Humanity and the impending ruin of everything that could enable a good life for all, on the other hand, justifies any worries. I had experienced perhaps the best of humanity in my life, with the potential for paradise, but a rapid decline of that potential, caused by unscrupulous “leaders,” criminal billionaires, and a mass of people who underestimate their influence, both for the worse and for the worse.

That night was my shortest. Only an hour and then a short nap before I gave up and wrote in my journal. I wondered how long this could go on without collapsing, still hoping my body would choose the gentler option and simply sleep.

On a cold morning, we hoped to experience a sunrise on a beautiful terrace specially created for such events, but it was more for cloud lovers. The active group took a bus to Yubeng for their first hike up to the “lower village.” For us that meant to say good bye to Dannie and Zhouzhou.

It would have been a perfect hike, were it not for the many motorcycles that took tourists up or down, making noise, smelling, and scaring away hikers. It wasn’t easy; the thin air required careful pacing and breathing, but we all made it! A special adventure was the pickup truck ride from the lower village to the “upper village”. I wasn’t allowed to sit on the back of the truck, probably because my legs are too long—it can’t be because of my age, can it? Only Fiona and Ludo had this bone-jarring experience, but even in the car, it was special.

Then:
Good food, good room, good sleep!

oh – no! Not as fast…
First we had to wait for a backbag that should have been delivered from the starting point by a motorcyclist. But he wasn’t just late – he had handed it over to another driver, who also wasn’t just late but had handed it over to a third driver. And this one was late.
Leo guided us through a stretching lection meanwhile.

First, we visited the Songzanlin Monastery, which climbs 143 steps and consists of three adjacent main temples and several other buildings. Inside, it’s important not to point, wear sunglasses or hats, and, of course, no photos. However, there is a donation box with a QR code for WeChat Pay…

“Built in 1679, the monastery is the largest Tibetan Buddhist monastery in Yunnan. It was extensively damaged in the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976) and subsequently rebuilt in 1983; at its peak, the monastery contained accommodation for 2,000 monks, it currently accommodates in its rebuilt structures 700 monks in 200 associated houses.” (Wikipedia, also with photos from inside)

You can see monks praying, some with tablets, some by heart, truly religious people mixed with tourists imitating prayer postures, a man restoring paintings, the rooms full of symbols, and a lot of money lying around, but seemingly draped in a symmetrical arrangement

We went on, had an early lunch, and took two more breaks at viewpoints like the Dragon Bridge. Finally, we reached a beautiful spot overlooking Meili Snow Mountain, again without pointing fingers at it, as it’s sacred. In fact, we saw only the highest part of the peak peeking out of the clouds.

We had dinner there, although many weren’t hungry at first, but the food was simply too good to resist.

On the way to the hotel, some bought a miracle cure for the symptoms of altitude sickness, and then we saw that there was a power outage in the street in front of the hotel. Checking in and finding a room were a bit awkward, but once that was over, the power came back on.

We reached the lake, called “bottomless lake”, on a long and winding road. https://maps.app.goo.gl/mUjN8P3vCt5zzDaLA (maps hardly find it)
We took a slow lap for acclimatization and altitude adaptation. Everyone was feeling the altitude, some experiencing symptoms like dizziness or headaches, but we had enough time to stay sane.

After a picnic, we drove back in what was then three cars.

Car 1 was called “the quiet car,” and it was where people mostly slept. I was the neutral car; some slept, some talked, some laughed. Car 3 was the disco/dance car. The driver was funny and wanted to entertain his passenger with “T-Pop.” Ludo contributed his part with Italian songs, and then they decided to have a spontaneous stop to take part in a ten-minute dance lesson led by the driver in a wide meadow.

We only made a quick stop at the hotel to freshen up, as the thought of a visit to the massage parlor was so strong that it pushed another dinner together out of the question.

When we arrived as a mixed group of five foreigners and three Chinese, the owner called in masseurs from his other two studios to treat us all.

The others started with a fully clothed neck/shoulder treatment while we sat in a room designed for about 20 clients, and I got a back massage with oil, in a private room. Now I’m more familiar with my tensions than ever before, even those hidden somewhere on the side of my back and until now undiscovered.
I hoped the treatment was only booked for 30 minutes, because after a while, my muscles told me it was more comfortable to live with a few tensions than to be so thoroughly kneaded.

Wikipedia (shortened):
“The Dêqên Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture is located in the northwest of Yunnan and belongs to the Tibetan cultural region of Kham. Dukezong is the historical center of Shangri-La. 2014, a fire destroyed 242 of the 1084 predominantly wooden houses in Shangri-La’s old town. No one was injured.”

Fiona and her husband collect trash in the mountains this way. We did the same on this hike. Later, at higher altitudes, it was important to maintain balanced breathing. Even bending down and standing up again left me out of breath for a while.

We split into an active hiking group with Fiona (Michi, Ludo, and me) and a relaxed group (the others). The active group set off at 7 a.m. for Tiger Leap Gorge, which meant a 90-minute drive to the start of the 11-km trail. I don’t think I’ve ever hiked so long at an elevation of 3,300 meters, but it was okay. We had great weather, great views, and a secluded start, but it gradually became more crowded.

We met up with the relaxed group at the end of our hike and together set off for Shangri-La. The landscape changed, and so did the houses, many with large glass extensions designed for large family gatherings.

The evening brought another dinner highlight, and later, Efan helped me buy a fleece jacket and Fiona had brought her husband’s weatherproof jacket, and with these two items of clothing, I was well prepared for the following days of quite low temperatures!

Many group members took beautiful photos and uploaded them to a Google album. I’ve used some of them on the blog if they show something I didn’t photograph. In other cases, I simply envy their skills and share the link upon request.

Lijiang is even more touristy than any other cities with old town we’ve visited until then. The old town is a maze of mostly narrow or very narrow streets with endless rows of shops selling beautifully presented fruit, colorful pastries and other treats, clothing (including traditional clothing for rent, of course), and items you should call souvenirs.

Towards evening, it took minutes to move 10 meters in the crowded alleys.

Not only did the shopkeepers speak much better English than elsewhere, but we also saw enough Westerners to explain why. Michi found a new part-time job at a fruit tea shop, where he took over advertising with sample sales.

For dinner, there was new food again, but at least combined with some familiar dishes. We went downtown, and the shops were now bars, and no bar without a band or dancing girls. All I’m saying is, their dance style and moves had little to do with ancient Chinese culture, at least not with the official culture…

Some bars were busy, while in other bars, you could only see the bands playing for themselves.

Suddenly, someone called out, “Leo, Leo!”, which didn’t surprise Leo at first, as it reminded Leo of various Chinese words with similar sound, but Fiona had found him.

We celebrated the expansion of our group at a bar, and there it was decided that we should start a band because 10 years earlier, Leo had played drums, Mari had sung in a band in high school, and since I’m still in high school, I should become the guitarist. Without rehearsing, we played “Yellow” (Coldplay) and later “Lemon Tree” with Danny.

It was a wonderful experience!

Michi and I headed to the lake early. A crowd was already waiting for the sunrise (spoiler alert: only clouds, no sun), and a group of professional photographers were out and about. Some wanted to take beautiful morning photos of nature, and one of them sat down with us to chat with Michi about his expertise. He had a Hasselblad, but he was also friendly with people from the lower category 😊

The other photographers were looking for people who needed beautiful portraits. They had bouquets of flowers and tablets connected to their camera equipment to show their results. They had different styles of arranging their victims on a rock in front of the water, with trees in the water and the failed sunrise, and gave them instructions on how to look this way or that, and how to hold their hands.

Later, our whole group visited various shops to find costumes for photo shoots. Compared to before, the area in front of the lake was ten times more crowded; many were already in costume and almost in an 1:1 ratio mixed with photographers offering their services.

Our costumes, combined with our European appearance of some, led to even more photo sessions than usual, as some other tourists and photographers wanted to integrate us.

We took a lunch break on the grass in our costumes. Tony had rented a bike and was our private delivery service, as it took him three rounds to deliver all the gear for ten people.

As we changed back into our everyday clothes, we felt a certain loss of borrowed dignity—”Clothes make the man!”

We were running late to visit a temple complex that stretched uphill. Every time you thought you’d reached the highest building, you’d find something beyond it, even higher.

Eventually, we gave up, partly due to time constraints, and I should mention that we were distracted by two cute foxes playing a game of tag and some squirrels.

As always, dinner was to be the final highlight of the day. This time, it was a mushroom-focussed hot pot, and we had no leftovers, not only because everything was delicious, but also because we were already well advanced in solving the supply-demand problem – the eyes are often bigger than the stomach.

Eating or even touching the mushroom stew was not permitted until the alarm was raised. Video surveillance was in place to ensure this. Some of the mushrooms are extremely poisonous, and the restaurant is responsible for the health of its guests and doesn’t want to take any risks.

On the way back from the touristy old town, the rain slowly but steadily got heavier, and most of us were unprepared for it. Eventually, it wasn’t so much fun anymore, but to cut a long story short, everyone got home and was able to warm up again.