The Traveling Duo

South of the Clouds

I have some fond childhood memories of good times spent in Disney World.  The whole family would pile into the minivan, and we would cruise down I-95 along the Eastern seaboard.  Along the side of the road were multitudes of billboards, all building up an attraction called South of the Border.  You’re inundated with commercials for this place as you drive south, but when you actually pass it, there’s surprisingly little to see.

Yunnan is one of the more remote province in China, and accounts for fully half of China’s 56 minority ethnic groups.  Coupled with this diversity are some of the most incredible landscapes I’ve ever seen - its no surprise that this region has become something of a backpacker’s mecca.  Its name translates literally into South of the Clouds, and unlike Carolina’s highway amusement park, this place definitely lives up to the hype.

The vast majority of our time was spent in a Naxi town named Lijiang.  Here, its easy to rent bicycles and cruise from village to village, getting a taste for the local life.    Even though Lijiang is relatively close to the equator, its nestled in an alpine valley so the air has a cool crispness to it year round. 

Here, I encountered vistas that were so achingly beautiful, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach.  It’s not unlike those times when I brushed up against a high school crush - there’s a rush where I would clench up inside, and find it difficult to breathe.

Every available surface has been lovingly cultivated so that no matter where you look, there’s lush agriculture and vibrant green to greet your eyes.  In the distance, the imposing Jade Dragon Snow Mountain looms overhead, breaking up the deep blue sky with the soft white of fresh snow.  At dusk, rays of sunlight splinter through the clouds to reflect golden fire off of scattered rice paddies. 

In the Tiger Leaping Gorge, massive granite cliffs hold a silent vigil above the churning turqouise waters of the Jinsha river.  Across the chasm, an aging, gap-toothed Naxi man rests on his haunches on the side of the trail, gathering sour grass for his evening meal.  Herds of goats graze peacefully while perched precariously on steep precipices.  Village life here seems to have remained simple, isolated and untouched for an untold number of centuries. 

I must confess that we’ve become a bit addicted to this bucolic lifestyle and have spent far more time here than we originally intended.  Still, the road beckons, and its time to move on.