Adventures in Xinjiang: Lavender (Space) Blue & Laghman

When touring through a region as large (truly, just….massive) as Xinjiang, you’ve got to take the negatives along with the positives. Negative: after having just finished a full day of driving to get to the desert, the next step was another 8+ hours in the van to get to our next destination. Positive: just look at where those 8 hours took us…

To break up the long (long, loooooooong) van ride, we were able to take a midday stop at 赛里木湖 Sayram Lake. Sayram – which means “blessing” in the Kazakh language – is the largest and highest alpine lake in all of Xinjiang. It is often thought of as a “Pearl of the Ancient Silk Road” and I mean, well, yeah. Just look at it!

We could see a storm starting to make its way across the lake so we didn’t have too long to explore, but it felt amazing to get out and stretch my legs walking around the water a bit. There were some camels available for rides and photo ops, and various little pathways to walk around, but mostly there were a LOT of tourists taking pictures. Don’t be fooled by the pictures I post — in some (most) of these places, it takes quite a bit of effort to get a photo that isn’t swarming with other people. Don’t get me wrong, I too am one of those tourists wanting a picture, so I can’t be all that upset, but oh boy can it be a struggle.

It’s been something to adjust to, traveling through China — lakes like these, hikes, desert views, they’re never just a quaint, beautiful little spot you can happen to drive up to. Most are ticketed, require getting on a bus/golf cart to be driven there, and feel a bit like you’re waiting in line at Disney World when you first approach the gate. It’s why I am always so excited to go off and do my own thing, to veer from the trail on a hike, to walk a little faster than the rest of the people in my group: I am standing here in these breathtakingly beautiful forces of nature, and I just want some time to appreciate them without other people’s music and conversations. (We get it, you’re a travel snob, get over yourself, Madison.) I guess I share all of this just to say: don’t let the fancypants travel influencers fool you. Many of the travel photos you see online are curated, some even heavily photoshopped to adjust colors/erase the other people. Most of the beautiful things you’ll get to see, you’ll be sharing the view with a bunch of other people too. And I can complain about it all day long, but at the end of the day, I’m doing the same thing, aren’t I?

So anyways, speaking of pictures (cool segue Madie, saved it!): here is what may be the most epic-looking, hypothetical “meet the author” picture in the multiverse where I write a book. And here is the awkward tongue-blip picture that was taken just after. It wouldn’t be fair to post one without the other, eh?

We woke up the next morning in 霍城县 Huocheng County قورغاس ناھىيىسى of 伊犁州 Yili ىله وبلىسى ئىلى ئوبلاستى, or with its full Targaryan name: 伊犁哈萨克自治州 the Yili Kazakh Prefecture ىله قازاق اۆتونومىيالى وبلىسى ئىلى قازاق ئاپتونوم ئوبلاستى of the the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region of China. (I know, the many names can be a lot, and a bit confusing. But if I was trying to explain where I went to school to someone who had no knowledge of US geography, I would say the city of Philadelphia, in the state of Pennsylvania, on the east coast of the country of the United States. We don’t all have the same frames of reference. Zooming out to zoom in can be helpful and important.)

Yili is famous for its natural and historical sites, such as Sayram Lake (above!) and the Narat Grasslands (coming soon!), but it is also well known for something else that I never would have guessed: lavender! Following Provence in France and Hokkaido in Japan, Yili is the third largest producer of lavender anywhere in the world! Who knew?! Apparently, the climate in Yili is perfect for growing lavender — surrounded by mountains on three sides, humid, mild in the winter and cool in the summer, lots of sunshine… When driving, we were surrounded by fields of purple on all sides! Huocheng County is known as the “City of Lavender,” and so we couldn’t pass through without stopping to experience one of the farms for ourselves!

Now, I have to be honest, it took some real digging to try to figure out the name of the lavender farm we went to. (Admittedly, there are MANY to choose from. Close your eyes and point in a direction, you’ll see one.) Through a combination of attempting to translate the name on the ticket stub, searching for any close matches online, and digging through Trip.com pictures to look for recognizable landmarks, I was able to discover that the farm we went to was the Ipar Khan/Eprhan Lavender Tourist Park. We bought our tickets and walked through a small museum before reaching the giant sea of lavender awaiting us. I don’t know why every fairytale is not set in a field of lavender. It is absolutely MAGICAL.

According to Eprhan’s website, they wanted the overall vibe of the park to be “romantic and fashionable,” and I’ve got to say, I think they achieved it. I mean, personally, just walking out into a field of vibrant purple was romantic and fashionable enough, but they also had a bunch of big props staged to encourage the taking of photos: a Cinderella-looking carriage, a giant white (fake) grand piano, an enormous diamond ring you could pose inside. (You know you’re at a Chinese tourism sight when there are photo props around…) (And yes, I did pose with the piano. Because duh. The ROMANCE of it all.)

As we were led through the paths around the farm, we were accompanied by a tour guide who gave us more information about the lavender, the distillation process, and what makes the lavender at this farm special. Now, the Ravenclaw in me is struggling with how little information I have been able to find (I will not lie, I have spent hours trying every combination, translating web pages, ending up with only 3 Google results…it’s been a journey) BUT here’s what I’ve been able to put together based on the game of Telephone between our guide trying to translate the information from Uyghur to English, and the little I’ve been able to find online:

Eprhan’s lavender is known as space blue lavender because it was bred up in space! Basically, the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps selected some special lavender seeds that were apparently really good at being seeds (sorry y’all, I’m doing my best here, I am not a space breeding expert…yet) then they sent them up on a returnable science and technology experimental satellite for 18 days for space breeding. Why? Does that affect the lavender somehow? Unclear. They say the lavender is now a deeper blue color than other lavender, so it is called their Space Blue Lavender. Eprhan then distills the essential oils to make all kinds of skincare and aromatherapy products. Do I entirely understand what’s going on here? Despite my best efforts, no. But still: I can now say I’ve visited a farm where they’ve been space breeding lavender. And I left with some space blue lavender lotion. I’ll take it.

  • Had to. Couldn’t help it.

After romping around through lavender for an hour, we got back in the van and drove to the next place we’d be using as a home base for the next few days: 特克斯县 Tekes تېكەس ناھىيىسى. Now before I share anything more about Tekes, I MUST ramble on and share ALL the pictures from what may be my favorite restaurant I have ever been to, ever. It’s nothing fancy, our guide probably just knew the owners and so brought us, but we ate there three days in a row and it is probably my favorite of all of the food I’ve tried in China. (Which is saying a lot — I live in the home of the pork soup dumpling.) My friends, may I introduce you to: Uyghur cuisine.

Look, I know I’m not normally a food blog (my palate is not nearly advanced enough) but I would be doing you a disservice if I did not do my damnedest to convince you to travel to Xinjiang just to try the food, so, a few words on some of my favorites. First up, our repeat offender from my last blog: بازارنان nang 馕. Also known as naan, nan, or nangbing, just about everywhere you look someone is baking up this delicious flatbread, ready for you fresh out of the tandoor oven. Sometimes served with sesame seeds, onions, or even stuffed with lamb, it is warm, fluffy, and wonderful.

Next up: زىخچە كاۋاپ Kawap 烤肉, or, lamb kebobs! I have to be honest, in my normal life I don’t eat a lot of meat, and I definitely do not eat a lot of lamb. When traveling, I make more exceptions than usual to try the local cuisine, and OH BOY am I glad I did. I don’t know if it’s because they alternate between a bite of meat and a bite of fat, back and forth on the skewer; the generous coating of cumin, salt, and other spices on every side; the way it’s grilled over the fire… it’s perfect. It’s just perfect.

We’ve also got manta (lamb dumplings) and polo (rice pilaf typically served with mutton and carrot) but my all-time favorite Uyghur dish? لەغمەن Laghman 拌面. Oh, laghman, how do I describe my love for thee? Probably the most famous in the cuisine, laghman is a dish composed of hand-pulled noodles, lamb (or, sometimes, beef), and fried vegetables such as peppers, tomatoes, onions, beans, and all sorts of amazing spices. I’m very much a texture person when I’m eating, and there is something about these noodles that is just so incredibly satisfying. After the dough is made, it is rolled, pulled, and stretched into long thin noodles, after which they are boiled and then covered with the sauce. The noodle-making is impressive, and they know it; many restaurants will have open windows into the kitchens just so you can watch the process. Sometimes the noodles are kept long, sometimes they’re cut into more bite-size pieces, either way I am absolutely in love with this dish.

  • Laghman, short noodles
  • Laghman, long noodles
  • Polo & Manta

And now, to finish off my raving about dining in Xinjiang (for now) – kawas. If laghman wins favorite food in Xinjiang, kawas wins favorite drink, hands down. Kawas (or kvass/kavas) is a carbonated, fermented, non-alcoholic, honey-sweetened cup of happiness and joy. It’s like a honey beer. But bubbly. Sort of. It was likely introduced to Xinjiang by Russians in the 19th century, and is enjoyed throughout many Slavic countries. Guys, this may be my new favorite drink. In Xinjiang, it is EVERYWHERE. Served out of these giant barrels. We ordered an entire jug of it for the table, and took the leftovers back to the hotel with us. Worth it!!

After absolutely stuffing our faces, we had the afternoon to explore Tekes. What makes the central part of the county — called Tekes Bagua City or Tekes Town — interesting is that it was built in the shape of a 八卦 bagua, the 8-sided shape used in Taoist cosmology to represent the 8 fundamental principles of reality: Heaven, Earth, Wind, Thunder, Water, Fire, Mountain, and Lake. (Think of feng shui!) With eight streets that meet in the very center connected by four rings of roads moving outwards, it was very cool to see that the city operates without any traffic lights whatsoever!

Near to our hotel, we wandered our way into a folk pedestrian street that divided up into little areas for shopping, eating, and observing various cultural displays. Though many of the shops seemed to be closed while we were there (except for the few who, seeing us coming, decided to open their doors) we still managed to find ourselves another glass of kawas and proceeded to walk around looking at all of the beautiful street art! (I know, way too many pictures on this post, but can you blame me??!)

As I look back on these pictures while writing these blogs (admittedly, a few too many months later than I intended to, and now stuck in a 5+ week citywide lockdown), I am reminded again just how lucky I have been to be able to travel to Xinjiang. This is a part of the world that, in all likelihood, my friends and family will never see. It is not your typical international travel destination. And so, as always, it is my hope that in reading this, you too will have your curiosity ignited, will learn about these new cultures and awe-inspiring places, and join me in marveling at all that our planet has to offer. It’s a great big world out there, and I intend to see as much of it as I can. Hopefully you’ll stick along for the ride.

❤

Adventures in Xinjiang: Grasslands and Ghost Cities

(To read the first part of this trip, click here!)

The pictures from the beginning of this blog post will look completely different from the pictures at the end, and that’s one of the things I absolutely love about traveling around this country. Before moving to China, I ignorantly didn’t know a lot about the different regions, cultures, and environments I would find here – if asked what I expected to see, I would have been able to guess the Great Wall, bamboo, and pandas. Traveling through Xinjiang, where I went from dipping my feet in a river in the Arctic water system down to 106 degree heat on the edge of the Gobi Desert in the span of a few days, all of my previous expectations were turned on their heads.

About 70 kilometers (43 miles) away from Kanas Lake, deep in Northern Xinjiang’s Altai Mountains, you can find the “Private Land of the Gods” – 禾木村 Hemu Village. At only 3,040 square meters, Hemu is a fairly small village nestled along a river and surrounded by mountains and birch trees; as the northernmost village in all of Western China, Hemu has become a popular place to visit not only for the stunning natural beauty, but for the cultural significance: Hemu Village is the largest and most remote of the three villages of the Tuva ethnic minority in China.

The 图瓦族 Tuva people, believed to be the direct descendants of Genghis Khan, have called the Altai Mountains home for over a thousand years. Traditionally, the Tuva were nomadic hunters and livestock farmers, raising sheep, horse, cattle, yak, and reindeer. During the Tang Dynasty (which lasted from the year 618 to 907) and the Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368), the Tuva were described as “skiing hunters” and “forest people” – they lived a simple life hunting and raising animals. Today, there are less than 3,000 Tuva people living in China. (For clarification: there are Tuva people living in Mongolia and Russia as well, but within China they only live in these three villages in Northern Xinjiang.) Getting to visit Hemu Village feels a bit like stepping into a different time, as the Tuva people still keep many of their ancient traditions.

All of the Tuva houses are log cabins built by hand, using wood collected from the forests surrounding the village. The front door to each house is built facing the east, so all of the homes are facing the same direction. Many of the homes have small gated pastures or barns, and walking through the village you will find all kinds of animals peacefully grazing. There are about 100 families living in the village proper, and a separate lodge just over the hill where tourists are able to come and stay. Because of the beautiful natural landscape, Hemu is a very popular spots for photographers to visit — especially during the fall when the leaves change colors.

Upon getting settled in our lodge, we had a few hours of free time to do with as we chose. Eager to go out and explore on my own, I put on my hiking boots, grabbed my hat, and set out. Without a set destination in mind, I found a path and decided to follow it and see where it led – up through a luscious grassy hill, in through a forest of birch trees, only to find my way out in an open valley. Though the path stopped, I didn’t see any signs telling me not to keep going, so I made my way through the tall grass, taking in the view. With the village in the distance, a few horses here and there, and not another person in sight, I paused to just breathe and enjoy the experience. Especially when traveling in a group, it can be hard to find time just to sit with yourself; I was thrilled to be out, in the middle of this gorgeous open grassland, surrounded by trees and mountains, occasionally hearing the neigh of a horse, feeling the sun on my skin… it doesn’t get much better than that. (Also, I KNOW The Sound of Music doesn’t take place in China, but looking around at Hemu Village….. are we SURE?!)

After my solo wander, I walked back to the lodge and met up with the group for our afternoon of exploring. We took a walk through the village and hiked up some of the surrounding hills; when given the option to either stay where there was a faint path and not go very far in or forego the path to explore deeper, you can guess which option I chose. (For the record, my guide also chose that option, so, it was fine, I was safe.) We were able to find some wild strawberries to snack on and got to spend about an hour trying to hike our way through the dense forest. I was delighted.

One of our last stops of the day was the 禾木河 Hemu River, whose water comes from the melting snow on a nearby mountain. Where the Hemu River meets the Kanas River (flowing from the southern end of Kanas Lake, from my last post!), the Burqin River is formed, which further on runs into the Irtysh and Ob Rivers, which finally runs in to the Arctic Ocean. So…. this water will eventually end up in the Arctic! Though China has over 1,500 rivers throughout the country, almost all of them flow east or south into the Pacific Valley and the Indian Ocean Valley — this is the only river system that flows west and belongs to the Arctic Ocean Valley. River facts! Cool!

  • Found a mysterious plant growing on the side of the road. Interesting.

After our wonderful stay in Hemu Village, it was time to pile back in the van and get ready for our next looooong driving day – with about 8 hours of road time to go before we’d reach our final destination for the night, we were able to break the day up into various pit stops to stretch our legs and admire the changing scenery. As we started heading further south, we started seeing less and less of the luscious green grassland portion of Xinjiang, and watched as the view from the window became rockier and drier. However, with the change of landscape came some other very exciting firsts: our first camels, and first experience with some classic Xinjiang foods: Hami melon and 馕 nang. Nang (which I’m sure I will talk about MANY more times because it is just that good) is a traditional Uyghur bread, often freshly baked outside at a small bread stand with a big brick oven. It is delicious and wonderful and warm and EVERYWHERE in Xinjiang and I am now sitting here in my Shanghai apartment writing this and desperately wishing I had some to munch on. Just so good. Ugh.

Our first big stop of the day was 五彩滩 Wucaitan, which translates to “Five-Colored Hills,” or, more commonly: Rainbow Beach! Through some combination of various minerals in the rocks, wind erosion, and Mama Nature playing around with her art supplies, these colorful rock formations along the Irtysh River (see above for cool river facts) make for a unique and interesting landscape to walk through for an hour. You’d think after having seen the amount of cool rock formations and desert landscapes that I have, I would stop feeling like I’m suddenly in some sci-fi space travel adventure story each time I explore one, but, no. Instant Star Wars scenario in my head, every time.

After a few more hours in the van, we loaded up with water bottles to head out to our next site: the 魔鬼城 Karamay Ghost City, located between the Altai Mountains and the Tian Shan Mountains in the Jung’gar Basin, on the outer edge of the Gobi Desert. Even at 6:00 pm, we stepped out into 106 degree heat that just hits you in the face. And the body. And the soul. It’s a lot.

The Ghost City is made up of a collection of yardang formations that have been shaped and formed after thousands and thousands of years of wind and water erosion. Research shows that one hundred million years ago, this land was covered by a giant freshwater lake and tropical trees. (Also, HELLO lots of cool dinosaurs!!!) Now, the yardangs jut out of the sand and rock to form all sorts of strange and interesting shapes – check out the one they’ve named after the Titanic! This region has also served as the filming location for many Chinese movies and, most recognizably, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon! (One of these days I really should watch that movie.)

  • I’m the king of the WOOOOOOOOOORLD!!!

“But Madison — Ghost City?! Where do the ghosts come in??”

Long ago, when there were no roads linking this region with the outside world, Kazakh nomads would often hear strange and eery sounds howling throughout the yardangs, the sounds of ghosts crying out in the night. As strong winds blew through the desert, whipping around in between the rock formations, these noises convinced people that the area must be haunted. Honestly, can’t say that I blame them; if I was out here in the middle of nowhere at night hearing howling noises, even knowing it was the wind, I too would be reaching out to the Ghostbusters.

Two consecutive nights, two beautiful sunsets. But two wildly different days. It truly is one of the best things about traveling – you just never know where the next sunset is going to take you.

Adventures in Xinjiang: Lake Monsters and Fairylands

After returning home from Sanya, I packed up my backpack for what would be the longest and most epic of my summer 2021 travels: a 15-day trip to Xinjiang.

Now, before I get into it, a note: these next few blog posts are ones I have been unsure of how to begin. Visiting this part of the world is tricky, especially as a foreigner, and there is a lot of political tension surrounding it. (If you are not aware… do some research.) That being said, that’s not what I plan on getting into with my writing these. My purpose in blogging while traveling is to share the beauty and wonder of all of the cultures and places I am visiting – to bridge the gap between “us” and “them” that creeps its way into our brains. Leading with love. Xinjiang is one of the most beautiful places that I’ve ever visited, with a vibrant, unique culture. I am excited to share what I’ve learned with you. (And hey, if we are ever in person, I am happy to chat more about all of this and more offline over a drink or two.)

新疆 Xinjiang (or, the 新疆维吾尔自治区 Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region شىنجاڭ ئۇيغۇر ئاپتونوم رايونى) is the largest of all of China’s provinces, though sparsely populated: though it spans over 1.6 million square kilometers (roughly the size of Iran!) it has around the same number of people as the city of Shanghai, at 25 million. AKA we spent a few 8 hour driving days seeing nothing but desert, and oh boy is there a lot of it – only about 10% of the land is able to be inhabited! Looking at a map, Xinjiang occupies the entire northwest corner of China; it shares a border with 8 different countries – Russia, Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India. (Try saying that 5 times fast.) A key link on the Silk Road, Xinjiang is known for its music, fruit, carpets, minerals, gas, and so much more!

When planning out my summer travel, I knew I wanted to hit this region. It looked so different from everything else I’d seen so far in China, and was a part of the world I’d never even come close to experiencing before. Xinjiang is divided by one of the largest continuous mountain ranges in the world, extending 2,500 km roughly west-east across Central Asia: 天山 Tian Shan [تەڭرىتاغ Tengri Tagh], or, “Celestial Mountains.” Most organized trips to this region either take you north of Tian Shan, to the alpine lakes and vast grasslands of North Xinjiang, or to the bustling bazaars and remote deserts of South Xinjiang. Me? I couldn’t choose between the two, so… I signed up for two back to back trips, one week up north and then one week down south. Adventure is out there!

The red dot is home: Shanghai. The blue dot is where I was on my way to: Kanas Lake!

First up was a long flight from Shanghai to ئۈرۈمچی Ürümqi [乌鲁木齐 Wulumuqi], the capital of Xinjiang. (Fun fact: Ürümqi holds the Guinness world record for being the most remote city from any sea in the entire world!) A quick overnight to rest up before our adventures began, then we were off super early the next morning on another flight, this time taking us way up to the northern tip of Xinjiang! We landed in a TINY little airport and were immediately asked by at least 4 different people for our names, phone numbers, and passport numbers; a regular occurrence, we would soon find out — there are seemingly endless police checks, especially as foreigners, when traveling through Xinjiang. We then made our way to where we would be spending a majority of our time over the next 7 days… the van! As Xinjiang is SUCH a big region and we had a pretty busy schedule, we would spend anywhere from 2-9 hours driving around each day. Luckily, my years road-tripping as a military brat had prepared me for this. Plus, this is one of my favorite parts of traveling – the first time you get to look out your window and explore!

As we drove through lush grasslands, I enjoyed getting to see all of the herds of animals scattered across the hills. Horses, cows, sheep… But one of the most exciting things I saw: yurts! Many of the Turkic ethnic minority groups (Kazakh, Kyrgyz, Mongol, Tuva, etc) are nomadic, moving their herds as the seasons change. These yurts – circular tents constructed out of a wooden base – only take a few hours to set up and tear down, and so you can see them throughout the region! Stacked with warm carpets inside, they look pretty cozy!

After a few hours in the van, we reached our first destination: Kanas! Located in the Altay Prefecture of Xinjiang, 喀纳斯 Kanas is often thought of as a fairyland or “the garden of the gods,” and it’s not very hard to see why. I felt like I had suddenly stepped into an ancient place where magic still lives and breathes. Kanas, which is a Mongol word meaning “beautiful, mysterious, and abundant,” is most well known for the splendor of its natural beauty. Kanas covers an area of 10,030 square kilometers and includes 55 scenic spots consisting of lakes, mountains, grasslands, forests, and more. On the border of the Siberian Taiga, this is the only place in China where Siberian species of plants and animals can be found. We headed in to the Kanas National Geopark to wander and explore.

The main feature of the park, and the reason most people travel to this part of Xinjiang, is Kanas Lake. The aquamarine water of this crescent-shaped lake covers 45 square kilometers (17 square miles) – with an average depth of 120 meters (400 feet), Kanas Lake is the deepest freshwater lake in all of China!

We started by walking through various pathways around the lake, taking it all in. The air felt so fresh and clean! We even found a little area where we could climb in and get our feet wet. The water was cold, but felt so good! After seeing the lake from ground view for a while, I decided I wanted to find an even better view of it — from above!

The 观鱼台 Guanyu Pavilion (Fish Viewing Pavilion) sits atop a 2,030 meter hilltop with a full panoramic view of Kanas Lake. However, to get up to the view from the top, you first have to walk 1,068 wooden stairs to get there. I admit, I had to stop for a breathing break here and there. But the higher and higher I climbed, the more the lake came into view and OH BOY is it worth it.

“But Madison,” you may be asking aloud to your computer, “you said this is the Fish Viewing Pavilion. How could you POSSIBLY see any FISH from this far above the lake?!”

A very good question, Anonymous Reader. I have an answer for that.

Legends – and many aspiring cryptozoologists – tell us that this beautiful alpine lake is home to the 喀斯湖水怪 Kanas Lake Monster, Xinjiang’s very own Loch Ness! As the story goes, on their first expedition west, Genghis Khan led the Mongolian army through the Altai Mountains. After traveling for days, they were exhausted and so stopped to rest by a lake. After Genghis Khan drank from the water, he enjoyed it so much that they declared that the water was now the “holy water of Khan,” or “Khan’s water,” and so named it “Kanas.” After he died, Genghis Khan’s body was preserved at the bottom of the lake, where lake monsters now serve as his guards and protect his soul.

“But Madie,” you may be saying once again, “that’s just a myth. Give us some cold, hard FACTS!”

Very well then.

For centuries, people have spoken of giant monsters in the lake snatching nearby sheep, cattle, and even horses and dragging them into the lake. The Tuva people who live in this region are believed to be descendants of Genghis Khan himself, and have often spoken of the “Lake Saint” who guards the body of Khan. However, the first official sighting was reported by the state-run Guangming Daily in 1980; the report described a mysterious shadow and large waves appearing in the middle of the usually calm lake surface. In 1985, Professor Yuan Guoying and his students at the Xinjiang University Department of Biology conducted the first scientific research on the matter. They observed a group of around 50 giant red fish measuring between 10-15 meters (30-50 feet!!!!!) – they assessed that each fish could weigh up to 4 tons. Since then, there have been dozens of sightings of these lake monsters, especially since the early 2000s when tourism started booming and everyone wanted to catch these mysterious animals on video. Though the videos mostly feature large shadows and rising waves, it’s clear that there’s something there.

Scientists have speculated that the giant creatures could be Hucho Taimen, or Siberian Giant Trouts, in the salmon family. Hucho Taimen, most commonly found in rivers in Eastern Europe and Northern Asia, are known to be ferocious and secretive, swimming in both deep and shallow waters to hunt for prey. They can emerge above the water, making waves, as they prey on snakes, frogs, birds, rodents, and smaller fish. One of the largest freshwater fish in the world, the Hucho Taimen have been know to grow to be up to 2 meters long and can live to be more than 50 years old.

So, is Kanas Lake home to some exceptionally large and deeply mysterious Hucho Taimen? Or is there something else lurking under these waters, guarding the body of the great Mongolian Emperor?

Tune in next time on Cryptozoology Travel Adventures to find out… (Just kidding. But also sort of not. I might be on to something here…)

Summertime in Sanya: Rainforests & Romance

(To read Part I of this trip, click here!)

The nice thing about staying at a resort with a private beach (silly, silly, silly – what is this life?!) is being able to pop down for some sun and a swim truly whenever you want. Just finished breakfast? Go for a morning swim. Everyone else taking a midday nap? Bring a book down and read under the palm trees. Have an hour to spare before leaving for dinner? Sounds like a great time to look for jellyfish. (Or, rather, a great time for the jellyfish to look for you. They found me. They did. Oh well, I’ve had worse.)

Admittedly, one of my hands-down all-time favorite Sanya beach activities was… hunting for wedding photoshoots! Because this was a private beach, and thus much cleaner and less swarming with tourists, there was a photography company that would bring its customers to the beach for their pre-wedding photoshoots. (Side note: pre-wedding photoshoots are HUGE in China. Like, ALL of the extravagant outfits, ALL of the rose petals, ALL of the sunsets, ALL of the poses… Look it up. It’s a thing. I love it.) In the span of an hour, as I would sit there reading my book, I would see up to 20 couples coming down for their photoshoot. Looking along the beachfront, sometimes there would be 6 different couples taking their photos at different angles. (I was once asked to get out of the water so I wouldn’t be in the shot. Woops.) My favorite would be when they’d bring props: for one of the shoots, the photographers came down to set up all of these fake flowers, big plastic daisy-looking things, around a bench they brought down. They spent probably 25 minutes setting it up. The couple arrived, they spent maybe 3 minutes getting the shot, then left; the photographers immediately removed all of the fake flowers and were gone. It’s just the greatest.

As much fun as photobombing couples on the beach was, while down in Hainan I wanted to do some exploring inland as well – if there’s a rainforest nearby, I’m going to want to see it. My friend and I called a taxi and began the 35 km journey to the Yanoda Rainforest Cultural Tourism Zone.

呀诺达 Yanoda – which, in the local dialect, means “one, two, three” – is a rainforest park dedicated to perpetuating the native culture and preserving the natural ecosystem. The park encompasses 45 square kilometers in the midst of an ecological protection area of 123 square kilometers – embodying all 5 famous rainforests in the Hainan province. In classic China fashion, to attract tourism they have turned the rainforest into something of a “rainforest theme park” — in addition to long paths through the natural environment, there are swings, ropes courses, zip lines, animal attractions, and plenty of selfie spots. (I’m a bit torn on this trend. While I would much rather walk through a natural rainforest without any gimmicks or thrill rides, I recognize that in making it a tourist park, they are able to raise money to protect it and enforce restrictions on its safety.)

Before I share our adventures in the park, a quick tangent on our ride to get there. On the way over to the park, our taxi driver (through the use of many translation apps on both of our ends) asked us if we had our passports with us to get tickets. We responded that we didn’t, but that we didn’t see anything online about needing them to get in to the park. After we were about 20 minutes away from our hotel, and realizing that we might be driving a few hours to get to the park only to learn we may be turned away, we told the driver that we thought we should turn around and go back to the hotel to grab our passports. The driver pulled over to the side of the road, called the park, explained the situation and asked if passports would be necessary. After a few minutes of talking with them, he let us know that we would be okay without passports — saving us the 45 minutes it would have taken for us to drive back to the hotel, grab our passports, and set out again.

When we arrived at the front gate to the park, our driver offered to help us buy our tickets — again, with everything in Mandarin and us being the only two English-speakers in sight, this was a tremendous help. We looked at the price points and let him know which activities we were interested in, and he spoke with the park workers to purchase them for us. As we were about to head in, he told us that we might have a hard time trying to find a cab back as there are not many taxis regularly in this part of the island. According to the meter, our ride to get here here cost about 150 kuài — he said, rather than pay him now, he would be happy to wait for us to be done, drive us back home, and call it 250 for the whole day which we could pay at the end. Sure, if you want to be cynical, here was a man making a business plan, and yet: without his help, this whole process would have been a whole lot more difficult. We didn’t have a way to ask about the passports. We didn’t have a plan on how to get back to the hotel, or even consider that it may be difficult to get a cab out here. For all he knew, we would go into the park, not pay him for the ride, and find another taxi home afterwards. But instead, he parked his cab, sat around for a few hours, and drove us home at the end of the day for the discounted price we agreed on earlier. All without us ever being able to speak a word in each other’s languages. Though many times it can feel isolating living in a country where so much is so different from home, these little moments of human connection remind me just how alike we all are.

Walking through the park, I was so glad that we’d taken a day off from the beach for this. Though it was incredibly hot and humid even in the shade of the giant banyan trees towering above us (check out all of my little baby curls popping out!), being surrounded with so much nature and fresh air made it absolutely worth it.

Though the tourism draws were fun as well – I’ll always enjoy climbing up into a swing that stretches out over a big drop – one of my favorite parts of the day was seeing all of the BIRDS! For those who may not know this about me, I just love birds. All kinds of birds. They are like tiny angry little rainbow dinosaurs and I think they are wonderful. So when we found a giant aviary filled with tropical birds, you KNOW I bought some bird seed and pretended to be a Disney princess feeding the braver little guys right out of my hand. Best. Day. Ever.

We spent a few hours wandering around, getting lost, getting excited about little birds and big trees, and occasionally climbing up on top of any big rocks I could find. One of the funniest things to me is all of the random statues you can find in these tourism zones. Throughout my travels I’ve found dinosaurs, Snow White and the seven dwarfs, little woodland creatures, Spongebob… I don’t entirely understand, but I am here for it.

We stopped for lunch at the “food court” area of the park. A perk of traveling somewhere tropical is all of the delicious fruit! Dragon fruit is a personal favorite of mine, so given any opportunity to enjoy some fresh pitaya, I will take it. (I was absolutely delighted to find out how they grow….but that will come on a much later blog…)

Another tourist attraction I wanted to visit while in Sanya was the Sanya Romance Park. Remember the love story between the hunter and the fairy deer lady from Luhuitou Park in my last blog? Yeah, they decided to take that story and RUN with it…

Sanya Romance Park is another “theme park” tourist attraction that highlights Sanya’s local Li and Miao minority cultures. Or at least, in theory. You’re not going to find any authentic folk culture here, BUT you are able to see some of the traditional architecture, clothing, music, and dance in what feels like the Epcot version of the Li and Miao cultures. Better than nothing, I suppose. I’m a sucker for a street show and a lot of color.

Walking through the park, it’s hard to know what to look at. Everywhere you look there is an abundance of color — lanterns strung up above the walkway, banners hanging off each artisan’s shop to attract your attention, random elephant statues peering down at you, neon signs flashing, actors walking around in the traditional costumes for photo opportunities…

My favorite observation, however, was unspoken dress code for all of the women who were visiting the park. (Or, honestly, maybe it was a spoken dress code. It was WAY too prevalent to be a coincidence.) Apparently, somewhere in the Visiting Sanya Romance Park rulebook that everyone else seemed to receive before their visit was the requirement that if you are a woman between the ages of 20-80, you must show up in a long floral maxi dress and a GIANT hat. This is non-negotiable. Even better, you and the other 15 women in your group can color coordinate your dresses/hats. And finally, the best option, you and your 2 other friends can show up wearing the exact same dress and hat and walk around looking like a set of triplets dressed for their first Easter brunch. It was remarkable. I wish I’d worn a hat.

One of the main reasons to visit Sanya Romance park is the high tech Cirque du Soleil-adjacent show they perform each day: Sanya Legend. This hour-long production features acrobatics and dance as they showcase local Li and Miao legends and myths. (You guessed it, our hunter & deer fairy story gets the main feature – romantic aerial silk duet and all.) Even though none of the narration was in English, I was so enchanted with the amazing performances that I didn’t mind if I couldn’t entirely follow the storylines. When we first walked in, I was surprised to see a rather blank, open, all-black stage – I expected something more extravagant. However, as soon as the show began, so did the magical stage effects — rain onstage, flying actors out over the audience, fight choreography coming in from all directions, a giant ship over storm-tossed waters as trapeze artists performed above, and even ending with a giant transparent tarp suspended over the audience covered in water with mermaids and swimmers performing above us. In typical Madison-fashion, I did tear up once or twice. I LOVE circus performances, what can I say?!

After the show, as we were getting ready to leave, there was another theme park street performance. While I recognize that these are corny and not entirely authentic, as someone who knows very little about the minority cultures (hadn’t even heard of them before doing my pre-trip research like the very cool person I am) I always think it’s fun to see even a hyper commercialized version of their music, costumes, and dances. Plus, I’ve known enough theme park performers in my time, I feel it’s only fair to stop and give them some positive energy. They’ve had to do this same dance for gawking tourists a bazillion times, the least I can do is engage and enjoy it! (Plus, look at the beautiful costumes!!)

With my time in Sanya coming to an end, I spent one last morning on the beach, made one last visit to the swanky outdoor resort bar, and bade farewell to the Hawaii of China. Just enough time to rest up for a few days before heading off on my next adventure…

So long, Sanya!

Summertime in Sanya: Luhuitou Park

Something I’ve found interesting about moving abroad is learning about all of the new “must-see” places within a country that I had never even heard of before living here. If you’d asked me where in China would be worth a visit a few years ago, I probably would have replied: “Umm… Beijing… Shanghai… and… wherever the Terracotta Army is? And the Great Wall?” It was a surprise, then, to find out the most visited place within the local community of expats. And within my students and their families. And just about anyone I spoke with. No matter who I asked, no matter what time of year, the answer of where to go on vacation was always the same: “You have to go to Sanya.”

Often referred to as “The Hawaii of China,” 三亚 Sanya is everything you could ask for in a a tropical paradise beach getaway. The city is located at the southernmost tip of the island of 海南 Hainan, the largest and most southern of China’s islands. The name Hainan translates to “south of the sea” – as a reference point, the island can be found in the South China Sea sort of in the middle of Vietnam, Hong Kong, and the Philippines. So, at the southernmost tip of the southernmost island, Sanya is a special kind of vacation spot that you won’t find anywhere else on the mainland.

When I heard that a bunch of my coworkers were heading there for a week after school let out for summer, my friend Andrea invited me to come down with them. Though I’m not typically a “beach vacation” kind of person (my ADHD brain has a hard time understanding the concept of a relaxing vacation… have you noticed??) I decided I would give this place that everyone kept talking about a try.

Now, before I tell you about the hotel we stayed at, I feel I need to make one thing clear: I am not typically a fancypants traveler. I’m a share a room in the hostel with 9 other people traveler. I’m an if it’s less than 3 hours away we can walk there traveler. I’m a pack a jar of peanut butter and some tortillas and call that lunch for a week traveler. So when I saw the hotel glorious magical kingdom resort that we’d be staying at for the week, it felt a bit like the first time Annie sings her way through Daddy Warbucks’ home. (Soap? No, bubbles I think…)

Look, I’m not an influencer travel blogger, so I’m not going to go on and on about the hotel to fulfill some sponsorship deal (though I will 1000% sink to that level if someone wants to give me a place to stay for free, just saying) BUT I will say this: if you ever find yourself vacationing in Sanya, the InterContinental Sanya Resort WILL make you want to put on a fake posh accent and pretend to be an heiress as you enjoy your outdoor shower. Or walk to one of the six (six!!!) restaurants on the resort. Or enjoy the all-inclusive brunch buffet and happy hour. Or are able to go to a private beach and get a spot in front of the ocean that isn’t swarming with tourists. Oh and also all of the pools (multiple — there are multiple pools) have sand on the bottom and big floaty lily pad things to lounge on. IT’S REALLY NICE, OKAY.

Though it would be very easy to just stay in the resort and relax all week (and, after having visited Sanya so many times, some of my friends did just that!), I knew I wanted to get out and explore a bit. Since our resort was near 大东海 Dadonghai Beach, we were within walking distance from the first place I wanted to visit: Luhuitou Park!

鹿回头公园 Luhuitou Park – whose name translates to “deer turning its head back” – is a cute (and kitschy, but, welcome to traveling in tourist China) little hilltop park that overlooks a panoramic view of both Sanya City and the South China Sea. A local legend accompanies this park:

Long ago, an emperor wanted a pair of deer horns. (For decoration? As a status symbol? Unclear.) He sent a young man out to the mountains to hunt for one. As the hunter was on his way, he came upon a spotted deer being chased by a ferocious panther. Using his bow and arrow, the hunter shot the panther and began to pursue the beautiful deer himself. After chasing the deer through the mountains for nine days and nine nights, they arrived at the Coral Cliff of Sanya. (Apparently, they also had traveled over 99 hills. So. There’s that.) With nothing left between the cliff and the sea, the deer was trapped. The hunter got ready to shoot, but then suddenly the deer turned its head back to look at the hunter. Instantly, the deer turned into a beautiful woman and began walking towards the hunter. The hunter and the beautiful woman (who I guess was a fairy? A shapeshifting fairy who was hanging out as a deer and decided she needed to run for 9 days before revealing herself?) fell in love and got married. Then, all of the fairies got together to take down the evil emperor and made their home on the Coral Cliff. From then on, this romantic (seriously?) hill has been known as Luhuitou.

So, the moral of the story is… fall in love with the man who spent over a week trying to kill you? Or: things that you thought were animals are actually beautiful fairies who want to marry you, so be careful who you hunt? Either way, Sanya really wants to lean into the idea that this is a beautiful, romantic legend, so, we’ll go with that.

12-meter statue on the top of the hill featuring the deer/beautiful fairy! Romance at its finest!

Walking up the hill, there were all sorts of statues, little pathways, and photo ops. Most of them generically “romance” themed. (Something you should know about tourism in China: they LOVE photo opportunities. The cheesier the better. Gimme ALL the swings, ALL the frames, ALL the quirky seats. If you build it, they will come. And I did. Guilty as charged.) While there were some rabbits, peacocks, and deer that you could feed, there was another animal that we found even more exciting: monkeys!

Now here’s the thing about monkeys, if you’ve never encountered them in the wild: they are little shitheads. They’re adorable, and real smart, and absolute shitheads. But they know they can get away with just about anything, because, again, shitheads. So even though there are signs basically everywhere that advise against feeding the monkeys, or teasing the monkeys, or basically interacting with the monkeys, you’re still gonna get a bunch of tourists doing stupid things with monkeys that are hanging out a little closer than anyone should be comfortable with. So when we turned a corner to find a hoard of monkeys who had surrounded an older couple (who were very excited to take so many pictures until the monkeys started batting at the woman’s skirt), we backed away verrryyyy slowly and decided to just wait that one out.

Waiting for us at the top of the hill was a beautiful view overlooking the city below. Also waiting for us were those corny birds’-nest-looking chairs that have Instagram written all over them and you know what?! I took a picture. Because I am a white woman in my twenties, and you just don’t pass one of those up.

More importantly, also waiting for us at the top of the hill was a little food stand selling these delicious frozen coconut slushie-type drinks. They were sweet, and refreshing, and wonderful. Loved by all. And I know this to be true, because soon after we bought ours, a cheeky monkey decided to jump up on to the food stand, grab a few cups, rip them open, and start drinking them right there on the stand. Monkey-approved, y’all. 5 stars.

It’s easy to see why so many people flock to Sanya every time they get a chance to travel. Beautiful weather, tropical fruits, shithead monkeys, and questionable love stories — what more could you want?

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Happy Madie

Over a three day weekend in early May, I decided to once again take advantage of one of the (many) travel organizations I follow on WeChat and get out of Shanghai for a bit. I booked a weekend hiking trip out to 安吉县 Anji County in the 浙江 Zhejiang Province. Quick Chinese geography lesson: Zhejiang is the province just to the south of Shanghai, on the eastern coast of China. Zhejiang, which means winding or zigzagging river, is one of China’s smallest and most densely populated provinces. With over 3,000 islands along its coast, it boasts more islands than any other province in China! (More about those islands in a later post on a later trip…) One of the birthplaces of ancient Chinese civilization, Zhejiang has served as a wealth of information; archaeologists have uncovered historical relics and ruins dating back as early as 7,000 years ago!

About a 4-hour drive from Shanghai, Anji County is home to the 中国大竹海 Anji Bamboo Forest (the direct translation is “China Big Bamboo Sea”). The Anji Bamboo Forest is one of the largest natural bamboo forests anywhere in the world; covering 600 square kilometers (230 square miles), it hosts about 40 different species of bamboo. It’s most recent claim to fame, however, is as a shooting location for the award-winning Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. (I have to be honest, I have never seen the movie. I know, I know, it’s on my list…)

After a few hours on the bus from Shanghai, my group made its way to the hostel we’d be staying in for the next few days. This time I was traveling with a group called Hiking Lovers, and the itinerary for all three days was – you guessed it – filled with different hikes throughout the area! Though I’d certainly seen bamboo around before (in the States as well – there is some right near my parents’ house in Pennsylvania that I’d walk by on my daily survive-the-pandemic-doom-and-gloom walks) I’d never seen quite this much of it. One of the main things that struck me was just how TALL it can grow! And quickly, too – bamboo is the fastest growing plant on the planet. Some species can grow up to 35-40 inches per day! As we walked on our first hike, our guide told us how different areas of the forest were owned by different people; with so many uses (food, construction material, clothing, etc etc etc) it makes sense that bamboo is such a valuable resource to have!

One of my favorite things about hiking in the bamboo forest was using the bamboo itself as a bracing point while making my way up the extremely steep hills. With all of the dry leaves covering the ground, it was very slippery trying to climb up – eventually I realized that if I could Tarzan my way from one plant to the next, pulling myself up and then bracing my feet before reaching out for the next stalk, I could make my way pretty easily. Just like climbing diagonal bamboo monkey bars!

Eventually, we made our way up up up until we reached a pond at the mouth of a cave where we decided to stop for lunch. In typical Madison fashion, I could leave no rock unclimbed, so up into the cave I went! (It’s a real problem. I see a big rock, I want to climb it. I can’t help it…)

Something I’ve loved about using these travel groups to explore different parts of China has been getting paired up with local guides in each of the regions I’ve gone to. Though in previous travels to other countries I’ve prided myself on planning and doing it all without professional help, here in China – where there are so many different languages spoken (and very little English spoken) and rules and regulations that change by the day due to the ongoing pandemic – it has been nice to have guidance and help from those who are local to the area. Our guide in Anji brought us through the backs of various locals’ farms to get to a trail that not many tourists know about. Along the trail, he stopped to point out and pick berries that were growing. He took us off the beaten path to give us an experience that I certainly would not have been able to figure out on my own. On our final hike, he started picking wildflowers along the trail and wove them into a flower crown for a little girl in our group. When he saw that I liked her crown, he started picking more flowers along the trail – soon, I had a crown of my own as well!

Though not as big and epic as most of my other trips, my long weekend in Anji provided a much needed break from the hustle and bustle of the city. Fresh air, green everywhere, and a chance to get my legs (and my lungs) moving – what more could you want?

My first time eating bamboo. Yum!

Journey to the West(ern Sichuan Region) : Part IV!

Welcome to the fourth (and final!) installment of my Spring Break 2021 trip out west! Let’s wrap this thing up so we can move on to the six other places I traveled to in the past year, shall we? (One of these days I will be better about actually writing these things on time. Maybe. Someday. In theory.)

If you’re new here, you can read the other parts of this trip here, here, and here!

For the final two days of our journey, we made our way up to the highest point of elevation on the trip – the 稻城亚丁 Daocheng Yading Nature Reserve (ཉིང་རྟེན). In all honesty, while much of this trip attracted me to it, these last two days were the reason I had come. And after seeing some of the pictures, I think you’ll understand why…

Known as the “last pure land on earth” and “the soul of Shangri-La,” the Daocheng Yading Nature Reserve is a vast expanse of snow-capped mountains, epic valleys, and beautiful lakes that covers 1,344 square kilometers (520 square miles) and has an altitude ranging from 2,900 to 6,032 meters (9,514 to 19,790 feet). For more than 800 years, local Tibetans have revered Daocheng Yading as a holy place; the reserve is home to three sacred mountains that make up a holy trinity worshipped as embodiments of three bodhisattvas: compassion (Mt. Chenrezig), wisdom (Mt. Jampelyang), and power (Mt. Chanadorje). [For the record, just about every website I have been reading trying to research these mountains has spelled them differently. English translations are hard. So, these are just one variation of how they can be spelled.] It is believed that if you make three pilgrimages to these three sacred mountains, your wishes will come true.

Daocheng Yading Nature Reserve was first introduced to the Western world in 1931 when Joseph Rock (a renowned American botanist and explorer) published more than 60 pages of writings and photographs in National Geographic after having “discovered” it in 1928. Rock spent about 20 years exploring the Tibetan plateau, and immediately fell in love with the beauty of the region. As he wrote in his article, “Where in all the world is to be found scenery comparable to that which awaits the explorer and photographer?” Though many areas of the Himalayans may try to hold claim to the title of “the real Shangri-La,” it is believed that James Hilton based the fictional paradise in his 1933 novel Lost Horizon after the pictures of Daocheng Yading Rock published in his National Geographic article. The small town near the entrance of the reserve has even officially changed its name to fit the story — so I can now say that I bought a dress in Shangri-La!

Since there were so many trails we wanted to hike within the reserve (and the altitude meant we only had the breath support to go at a slower speed, oooof) we split up our visit into two days. On our first day, we first trekked up to the 冲古寺 Chonggu Monastery. Built nearly 800 years ago, Chonggu Monastery sits at the base of the north face of Mt. Chenrezig, the highest mountain in the reserve. Legend tells us that a monk built this temple as a place to worship the three holy mountains. However, soon after it was built, disease ravaged the area. The monk prayed and prayed for the health and safety of the people; they were all spared, while he was sacrificed. To honor him, the people buried him on the land and sculpted Tibetan cairns (carefully stacked stones and pebbles) in his memory. After hiking up all of the steps leading up to the monastery, I was grateful for some time to rest and do a quick sketch. That altitude is no joke!

After leaving the monastery, we headed for our next destination: 珍珠海 Pearl Lake. Also known as 卓玛拉措 Zhuoma Lacuo Lake, at an altitude of 4,100 meters (13,451 feet) Pearl Lake is the lowest holy lake in Daocheng Yading. Formed by melting snow from Mt. Chenrezig, it is said that on a sunny day the surface of the lake looks as though it is covered by thousands of pearls – hence, its name! It was so peaceful and refreshing to just sit quietly by the side of the lake. With the mountain giant looming in the distance, surrounded by trees, it was hard not to be overwhelmed by the beauty of the spot.

Our second day in the nature reserve (which just so happened to be my 29th birthday!), we started our hike in the 洛绒牛场 Luorong Grassland. Surrounded by the three holy mountains, this is as far as many tourists get before turning back. (There’s no way I would stop here!) As we walked towards the mountains, we passed many local Tibetan villagers’ livestock – the pasture is a wonderful place for the goats and cattle to eat! Seeing animals is always one of my favorite parts of traveling — some animals I know, some I don’t; some are domesticated, some are wild; I love them all!

  • A very serious monkey. He just sat like this letting people take his picture. What a champ.
  • Luorong Grassland

After making it past the the Luorong Grassland, the real hiking begin. Now look y’all: I love hiking, I do it whenever I can, and I am generally pretty adept at it. But this hike was a struggle. I couldn’t tell you if the hike itself was actually difficult or not, but what I can tell you is that altitude will HIT YOU. There were times that I could only make it in 2-3 step chunks before stopping to breathe heavily. Take 3 more steps, stop and gasp for air. Rinse and repeat. Over and over. And yet, even through all of that, I would do it again in a heartbeat. With each (lung-crushing) step, the views grew more and more epic as the mountains loomed over us. As I got higher, the ground soon was covered in snow. Spring break goals, am I right?!

After about 2 hours of huffing, puffing, and this-may-be-how-I-die-ing, I made it to my first destination: 牛奶海 Milk Lake! This ancient ice glacier lake sits in the valley of Mt. Jampelyang and is absolutely GORGEOUS. Though the interior of the lake is a beautiful turquoise color, the edges of it look more like a milky white – according to local legend, the whiter the water, the better the harvest will be! Though it was coooooold and windy up by the lake, I couldn’t resist stopping to take in the view. Look at those COLORS!

Just up and over from Milk Lake (“just up and over” in this instance meaning “holy hell how can there still be any more steps, this is how I die”) I made my way to 五色海 Five Color Lake! At 4,600 meters (15,091 feet), Five Color lake is the highest lake in Daocheng Yading Nature Reserve. Covering 0.7 acres, this lake stretches between Mt. Chenrezig and Mt. Jampelyang; with each breeze that passed over it, the color seemed to shift in the sunlight. Some locals believe that Five Color Lake can reflect history and predict the future, so many Buddhists make their way here for pilgrimage. All in all, a pretty perfect way to spend my first international birthday!

The next morning, it was time to head back home to Shanghai, but not without one more exciting discovery: we’d be flying home out of the highest civilian airport in the world! At 4,411 meters (14,472 feet) above sea level, the Daocheng Yading Airport holds the world record. Pretty cool, huh?

And that, my friends, brings my trip out west to an end. Thanks for following along through the (many) months it took for me to finish writing all of this, and stay tuned: I’ve done so much traveling in my first year in China, have many more trips planned, and can’t wait to share it all with you. Adventure is out there!

Journey to the West(ern Sichuan Region) : Part III!

(Read Part I here! Read Part II here!)

As our journey continued through the Garzê Tibetan Autonomous Region in western Sichuan, our next stop was the 龙灯草原 Longdeng Gesar Grassland, also known as the Dragon Lantern Grassland. The 12th century legend of The Epic of King Gesar tells the story of the divine Tibetan hero: a brave general who spent his life defending his people and vanquishing evil demons. King Gesar was said to have ascended to a hidden realm or celestial paradise after completing his adventures; he may someday yet return to save his people from their enemies. Legend tells us that King Gesar once set up camp in the Longdeng Gesar Grassland, building the largest tent in the Tibetan area in this spot.

We were given a few hours to hike up through the hills and take in the scenery. Though not an intense hike by any stretch of the imagination, the adjustment to the changes in altitude certainly had me huffing and puffing my way up to see all of the beautiful statues and pagodas. After so many hours in the tour bus (and so many more hours to go) a stop for some fresh air (even if strained) is always welcome. While exploring the grassland, I also got to hang out with a herd of dzo, or dzomo (མཛོ་ in Tibetan) – similar to mules, this yak-cow hybrid has been bred by farmers, and is used for its strength and size.

After exploring the grasslands for a bit, we were invited in to have tea with a local nomadic family in their home. Covered in rugs and blankets, the cozy one-room home was equipped with everything they needed to work and live in the grasslands while they were staying here. I especially loved the cooking area: they burned both wood and dzo poop to heat the stove! The family had prepared a spread of apples, little cookies and crackers, and yak butter tea for us. When in Rome… have another cup of yak butter tea!

After tea, we got back on the bus to keep making our way west. As we continued slowly climbing up the Tibetan plateau, we saw more and more mountains starting to pop up around us. Mountains and grasslands – such a wonderful change from the sights I get back home in Shanghai. We stopped for lunch at the Daofu Himalayan Kitchen and were given one of the best meals we had on the trip. As usual, all of the dishes were brought out and shared in the middle of the table; but where often we are only given dishes that have been boiled or fried, there was an abundance of fresh salads and vegetables in addition to the samosas, dumplings, and everything else delicious on the table. Yum!!

Since we had our own private bus for our tour (rather than attempting this trek on public transportation – I don’t think it would be possible!) we were able to pull over for photo opportunities or stretch breaks whenever we needed. One such pit stop was to take in the beauty of Kasa Lake. A freshwater lake surrounded by mountains on three sides, Kasa Lake is regarded as a holy lake by local Tibetans, and is referred to as “Mother Lake.” Many will come here to pray or wish for good harvest/good luck.

Additionally, Kasa Lake is home to mandarin ducks, black-necked cranes, yellow ducks, and many other birds; this lake is the largest waterfowl habitat in northwest Sichuan! (No, we did not have time to go down and actually look for said birds. Which is probably a good thing. Because a beautiful lake and a bunch of cute ducks would not bode well for my getting back into the bus within a reasonable time frame…)

A few hours later we reached our hotel for the evening. Now, when I say hotel, what I really mean is something more like: magical little lakeside resort city, complete with golf carts and random statues everywhere you look. And hypothetical hot springs. (They said they were there. I could not find them. Unclear.) I don’t entirely understand the place, nor could I actually tell you where it was; I tried searching literally any kind of key word I have about where we were/what it was called, and can’t find anything. Thus the only conclusion I can come to is that we were somehow transported into a magical little fairy village somewhere in Garzê for an evening. I am not complaining. It was wonderful.

The next day brought us to another beautiful mountain lake (there’s quite a lot of those in this part of the world, it turns out); after leaving our tour bus to get into smaller vans and drive up a bumpy, steep, winding road (and thanking the old gods and the new that these drivers have made this drive as many times as they have… oof) we reached the 措卡寺 Tsokha Monastery (མཚོ་ཁ་དགོན། ). Founded in the early 20th century, this monastery and the lake it sits next to provided a much appreciated moment of quiet and calm. We were given an hour or so to wander and explore, so I decided to take the time to just sit, listen, and reflect. I climbed up on top of a rather large rock (as I am wont to do), pulled out my sketchbook, and took in the details. Sometimes on these trips, when you are always on the go and always around a group of people, it’s nice to find these moments to just sit in the stillness.

  • I just love all of the colors. So many buildings were painted like this!

As we continued on and started getting higher and higher into the mountains, we were greeted by a welcome sight: SNOW! As someone who’s almost always had snow growing up, being here in Shanghai over the winter was a bit disappointing. Hard to feel like Christmas when there are palm trees by the side of the street, even if it does get cold. We found a small gathering of prayer flags by the side of the road, and couldn’t resist getting out to explore and take a few pictures. The contrast of the rainbow of colors against the white of the snow was so vibrant and beautiful. And yes, I did throw a few snowballs. (It’s beginning to look a lot like….spring break?)

That evening we drove to 理塘 Lithang (ལི་ཐང་།). At an altitude of around 4,000 meters above sea level (about 400 meters higher than Lhasa), Lithang is known as a “town up in the air.” In fact, it is one of the highest towns in the world! A blend of the traditional and modern, this town is considered a major center of Tibetan culture in Kham. While there, we are able to pass by the birthplace of the Seventh Dalai Lama Kelzang Gyatso (ཏ་ལའི་བླ་མ ༠༧ སྐལ་བཟང་རྒྱ་མཚོ།). Tibetans believe that the Sixth Dalai Lama predicted his own rebirth when he wrote the following song: White crane, lend me your wings. I go no further than Lithang, and thence, return again. As predicted, in 1708 – two years after the disappearance of the Sixth – the Seventh was born.

Though we didn’t have much time to explore Lithang, it was cool to get to walk around old town. We saw a performance of a traditional song and dance in one of the town squares, and ate a delicious meal at a small local restaurant! As the snow picked up on my walk back to the hotel, I couldn’t help but grow excited to leave the next day for the real reason I chose to go on this trip… Stay tuned!

  • The birthplace of the Seventh Dalai Lama

As always, I will try to get the next post out sooner rather than later. (As always, it will probably end up more towards later.) Thanks for sticking around after my months-long hiatus from posting; during my online absence, I’ve been lucky enough to travel around much much more of China, and can’t wait to share it all with you. Adventure is out there!

Journey to the West(ern Sichuan Region) : Part II!

(To read the first part of this trip, click here!)

After a good night’s sleep, my altitude sickness had (thankfully) worn off and I was ready to greet the morning in Tagong! Others on my trip were not so lucky, unfortunately, and felt sick sometimes for days at a time. Understandably so – the Tibetan Plateau is the largest and highest plateau in the world, with an average elevation of 14,800 feet/4,500 meters!

塔公 Tagong (or, in Tibetan, ལྷ་སྒང་། Lhagang) is a small town in the Garzê Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture of the western Sichuan Province of China, in the historical Kham region of Tibet. (Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains… I know it can feel like a lot of confusing names and titles associated with each of these regions, but I think it’s important to acknowledge. These places I’m visiting and learning about have a long and complex history often spanning multiple cultures and ethnicities, and dating back – according to some scientists – nearly 60,000 years. I would be remiss not to try to provide a bit more context!) The region of ཁམས་ Kham is quite diverse, and spreads across three Chinese provinces (western Sichuan, southern Qinghai, and northwest Yunnan) and the eastern portion of the Tibetan Autonomous Region. From mountains to grasslands to rivers and lakes, it is a stunning part of the world to travel through – if you’re going to spend multiple hours on a bus each day, you can’t find a much better place to do it! The people of Kham are known for primarily living as farmers and nomads, herding thousands of yaks through the grasslands; historically, they also have a reputation as the warriors of Tibet: brave, fierce horseman who defended their land against outsiders and endured incredibly harsh environments.

The Tagong Grasslands; good thing I brought my binoculars – better to see the herds of yaks!

Tagong itself is a pretty small town in the middle of a vast grassland, but is a very special place. The name Tagong translates literally to “the land favored by Bodhissatva” and has a local legend to accompany it:

In 640 AD, the Chinese Princess Wencheng left her home in Chang’an (modern day Xi’an) to make the 2,000 mile journey to Lhasa to marry the Tibetan King and founder of the Tibetan Empire, Songsten Gampo. With her, she brought what was to be a gift for her future husband: a life-size statue of 12-year old Shakyamuni Buddha. However, when the Princess was traveling through Tagong, this statue – known as the Jowo Shakyamuni – grew heavy, fell to the ground, and refused to move. The Jowo Shakyamuni then spoke, saying that it loved this place and wanted to stay. Because this statue was meant to come with the princess on to Lhasa, Princess Wencheng asked her craftsmen to create a second statue identical in every way to the Jowo Shakyamuni. Once the second statue was completed and left in Tagong, the Jowo Shakyamuni agreed to be moved again, and continued on to its final home. Now, it is said that if you cannot go to Lhasa for Pilgrimage, you can instead visit the Jowo Shakyamuni statue in the Tagong Monastery and worship the Buddha there.

Though I’d been to Jing’an Temple in Shanghai (I live only a few blocks away from it!), the Tagong Monastery was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. As when I visited Kangding, one of the first things that stood out to me was the vibrancy of all of the color. Color everywhere! In Tibetan Buddhism, colors have specific meanings and significance. One example is seen in the Tibetan prayer flags I saw dancing in the wind all around the monastery. Prayer flags are put up not to ask for self-serving wishes or desires, but to pray for good blessings for the world – it is said that when the flag is being hit by the wind, the wind carries the prayers and good wishes along with it. The five colors seen on the Tibetan prayer flags represent the following:

Blue (sky/heavens) : purity and healing
White (wind/air) : learning and knowledge
Red (fire) : life force and energy
Green (nature/water) : balance and harmony
Yellow (earth) : rootedness

We were asked not to take any pictures inside the temples out of respect, but luckily I always travel with a little notebook for moments such as these and was able to do a quick, rough sketch of some of the beautiful statues inside. I really enjoy pulling my notebook out while traveling. Though I’m by no means a great visual artist with a pencil in my hand – I’m very much a doodler – taking the time to look back and forth between my notebook and what I’m seeing, paying attention to little details and trying to capture them, it all feels really special to me. Like I’m able to have my own silent conversation with this beautiful sight. (Tangent: I wish I could say everyone in my group respected the “no pictures” request, but they did not. If you are asked not to take pictures, DON’T TAKE PICTURES. I don’t care if it’s quick, I don’t care if it’s sneaky, I don’t care if you don’t see the big deal, I don’t care if no one stops you. Coming in as an outsider and being shown this incredibly sacred thing, having this part of someone’s culture shared with you; for you to just disrespect their wishes for your own wants? Not a good look. Don’t do it.)

My other favorite part of the monastery was the sand mandala that some of the monks were creating. (I, again, don’t have a picture, but feel free to search for some online – they are truly stunning.) Meant to represent the universe, sand mandalas are made using intricate geometric shapes and patterns, each created out of carefully placed, colored sand. The mandala that was being worked on when I was there was only about halfway completed – creating these pieces of art can take weeks at a time, and require an incredible level of patience and concentration! The thing about sand mandalas that really moved me is that once they are completed – after the countless hours of work that have been put into them – they are destroyed. The sand is swept into a nearby river, where it is believed the river will carry the blessings of the mandala away with it. This is meant to represent the impermanence of all things; nothing gold can stay, right, Ponyboy?

After walking through the monastery, we hiked up a nearby hill to get a better view of the 塔公草原 Tagong Grasslands. The Grasslands cover over 700 square kilometers, and are home to many Tibetan nomads and herdsmen. In the distance, we were able to see Mount Yala; this mountain is covered in snow all year round, and is worshipped by Tibetan people as the area’s patron saint.

We then hopped back on our bus, and headed off to our next destination: 道孚县 Daofu (རྟའུ་རྫོང Dawu), a county known for its Tibetan folk houses, wood working, agriculture, and love of horses. Our local guide, who is originally from this county, jokingly told us all that contrary to popular belief, though the people from Daofu love their horses, they do not eat their horses. He had a good laugh telling us that!

That afternoon we arrived in 八美镇 Bamei Town (for reference, this “town” covers 281 square kilometers and has a population of 0.5 million – it may be more helpful to think of it less as a town, and more as a region with lots of little villages scattered throughout the mountains) within Daofu County, and set off to see one of Bamei’s biggest attractions: 墨石公园 Moshi Park! Originally called the 八美石林 Bamei Stone Forest, Moshi Park (the Mandarin translates into “ink stone public garden”) is an amazing natural phenomenon – in the middle of all of this grassland, a “forest” of mylonite jutting up from the ground! When approaching China’s only plateau stone forest, it feels as though you’ve suddenly been transported on to another planet. I’m sure there is some very interesting scientific reason for Moshi Park’s formation, but making myself understand it would take another hour or so of research, and I’ve already spent over 5 hours on this post. (Sorry to my brother and any other geology nerds – something to do with tectonic movement, fracture zones, the uplift of the Tibetan Plateau, erosion, mylonite, and…… thousands of years ago. That’s all I’ve got for you.) As a consolation, a different cool science fact: because the mylonite in the stone forest contains calcium salts, the color of the rock changes based on the humidity. The rocks appear to be a light blueish gray in dry seasons, and turns the color of ink when in the wet season. Hence, the name: Inkstone!

After a few hours hiking around Moshi Park (definitely pretending to star in some sci-fi action movie the entire time, I won’t lie) we went back to our hotel and I promptly fell asleep. To be honest, I don’t even think I ate dinner that night, I was so tired. (This entire blog post covered one day. So… we kept busy.) Stay tuned as I attempt to finish these Sichuan spring break posts before I leave for my next adventure in 9 days… Will she make it? Tune in next time to find out!

Journey to the West(ern Sichuan Region!) : Part I!

When it became clear that we would finally be allowed to leave Shanghai over our spring break – COVID restrictions have started easing up, and I received my vaccine in February – I immediately started thinking about travel plans. Though Shanghai is an exciting city to live in, I couldn’t wait to start seeing some of the rest of China! There are many places to see on my China bucket list, and in a way, I am thankful that I can use this time to really see them. Were I able to travel elsewhere, I would probably be going to Thailand or Japan or Indonesia or who knows where else on these breaks; instead, I am being given the time and opportunity to really explore this country. And explore I shall!

Though I’ve not been one to travel with a group in the past – I’m more of a “do a bunch of research then do it yourself” kind of gal – I decided to go on an organized trip for my spring break holiday. Were I to go up to Beijing (the Forbidden City! The Great Wall!), Xian (the Terracotta Warriors!), or Chengdu (Pandas!) I could easily do it on my own, but I set my sights on something a bit wilder, a bit less touristy… and I booked a 7-day trip with OK Deal Travel out to Western Sichuan/the Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture! Let’s pull up a handy map for reference, shall we? (I knew pathetically little about the layout of China before moving here, so no shame if you also need the visual reference! Hopefully by the time I leave China, both you and I will have a much better sense of the geography here!)

The red dot is where I live, Shanghai! The blue dot is where I would be going for spring break!

Shanghai is located on the very eastern coast of China (alas, there are not beautiful beaches near me…) – remind me sometime to do a “history of Shanghai” post, it’s actually quite interesting! China is divided up into 23 provinces, 5 autonomous regions, 4 municipalities, and 2 special administrative regions. (For obvious reasons, this can all get quite political and heated – I will refrain from going too deeply into it publicly on the internet; I am happy to chat about it in person, and encourage you to do some research of your own.) 四川 Sichuan (or, alternatively, Szechuan or Szechwan) is the 2nd largest of China’s provinces, and is located in the southwestern area of the country. This province is bordered by the Himalayas to the west, the Qinling Range to the east, and the mountains of Yunnan to the south. So while many of my colleagues were heading down south to the beaches of Sanya to soak up the sun, I was packing my hiking boots and my winter coat – I didn’t get to see snow over Christmas, so I was going to see some now, damn it!

Going to the airport felt a bit surreal. The last time I’d been in one had been my flight moving over here last September, which, let’s be honest, was a pretty intense experience. At least I didn’t need anxiety meds this time around! (If you’re new to my blog and want to read about it, I wrote a whole post about the process. You can read it here!) (Oooh, how very clickbait-y of me!!!) We started the trip flying from Shanghai over to 成都 Chengdu, the capital of China’s Sichuan province and the home of the giant pandas! Though I wasn’t in Chengdu long enough to do very much exploring (no giant pandas this time around), I did get to have a classic Sichuan meal for dinner that night – hot pot! As is the custom with many meals here, hot pot is a meal shared by a group of people sitting around a table together. Similar to fondue, a pot of hot boiling broth (usually spicy!) is placed into the middle of the table, then an assortment of raw ingredients are placed on the table that can be held in the pot and cooked: mushrooms, vegetables, thin slices of meat, quail eggs, tofu, leafy greens, potatoes, and (a new food adventure for me)… duck intestines! What do duck intestines taste like, you may be wondering? Not much, to be honest – all I could taste was the spice from the broth! The texture was what left the biggest impression on me: like a very long, very chewy noodle!

  • Hot pot!

The next morning, we hopped on to our tour bus (where we would be spending many, many hours over the next week) and made our way to our first stop: 康定 Kangding! Kangding (or, in Tibetan, དར་རྩེ་མདོ་ Dartsendo) is the capital town of the Garzê Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, and is known as the gateway to the Tibetan world. Historically, this is recognized as the border between the Kham region of Tibet and the Sichuan region of China. East of Kangding, the population and culture is primarily Han Chinese; west of Kangding, it’s predominantly Tibetan. (For our trip, we were starting here and moving west!) Kangding is known as having always been an important trading center between mainland China and Tibet – here, Chinese tea from Ya’an was brought to be traded for Tibetan wool. Imagine, carrying hundreds of pounds’ worth of tea and wool through the mountains on your back! What a beautiful place to stop and rest!

Though we didn’t spend more than a few hours exploring Kangding, it was so much fun to get to walk around and get a sense of the culture. The first thing I noticed was all of the COLOR! (This would be a common theme on this trip, I would soon learn.) Buildings were painted with all sorts of vibrant colors and designs, and it was beautiful to see the rainbows popping out against the backdrop of the mountains and the sky. I wandered through the streets looking through various shops and markets, and even got to try some street food – a yummy little pancake/crepe!

On the road again…

We drove on for a few more hours, slowly heading further and further west. Though it can be tiring, I secretly love long bus rides. I find it so interesting to see the scenery change outside my window – there’s an intimacy with the land that you just can’t get from flying over it. Though we had been driving through mountains and valleys, we soon started moving up in elevation and going instead through beautiful open grasslands and farmland, until we reached 新都桥 Xinduqiao (ར་རྔ་ཁ Rangakha) – known as a paradise for photographers and “a world of light and shadows,” Xinduqiao certainly did not disappoint! We stopped at the Gongkar Dzong Castle Lodge to stretch our legs and have a cup of yak butter tea, a traditional Tibetan drink! Creamy, savory, and nutty, yak butter tea is a warm respite from the cold grasslands, and is often drunk by Tibetan nomads for energy, fat, and calories. Though I’m not much of a tea drinker to begin with, this new sensation for my tastebuds was actually pretty good! (And I’d be having a lot of it on this trip.) When we left the lodge to get a good look around, we were gifted a view of 贡嘎山 Mount Gongga (མི་ཉག་གངས་དཀར་རི་བོ། Minyak Gangkar).

At 7,556 meters (24,790 feet) above sea level, Mount Gongga is the highest peak east of the Himalayas! With a name that translates to “snow white mountain,” there is no question as to why this mountain is known as the King of the Sichuan Mountains – its snowy peak towers above the rest! Fun fact: Mount Gongga was relatively unknown to the western world until 1930, when Joseph Rock (we’ll talk more about him in a future blog) miscalculated the height of the peak and excitedly sent a telegram to National Geographic claiming it was the highest mountain in the world! (He was 2,364 meters off, but don’t worry, Joseph Rock; everybody makes mistakes. Everybody has those days!) In 1932, Terris Moore and Richard Burdsall were the first (that we know of) to successfully reach the summit; afterwards, they called it “one of the great mountain giants of our planet.” Great mountain giant, indeed – Mount Gongga is one of the most difficult mountains in the entire world to climb. To put it in perspective: over 5,000 climbers have summited Mount Everest, Earth’s highest mountain. How many have reached the peak of Mount Gongga? Somewhere between 22-32. Until 1999, more people had died attempting than had made it to the top. Like I said: great mountain giant, indeed.

  • There’s the snowy peak of Mount Gongga!
  • My first cup of yak butter tea!
  • Gongkar Dzong Castle Lodge

From there, we got back onto the bus and drove another hour or so to Tagong. I’ve got to be honest: this was when the altitude really started to hit me. My body had not yet adjusted to being that high, and so the only thing I really remember from that night was a wicked headache and feeling nauseous. In lieu of an exciting description of dinner that night (because I truly don’t think I had anything but warm water), I will leave you for today with this: my attempt to get some more oxygen into my system. (Note: the oxygen can did nothing, but luckily a good night’s sleep was all I needed to get back on my feet again! Onwards!)