Charming Jiuzhaigou, A Journey of Colors
This trip was hastily decided after a drinking session, so much so that when I woke up the next morning, I half-wondered if it was a joke. But anyway, it also felt a bit like 'truth from wine.' I’ve always been holed up in this southern city, and though I had the idea of going out and about, it was搁浅 for all sorts of unfounded reasons. My friend was right—don’t make excuses, just go do what you want. If you否定 your own ideas today, you might never have any ideas tomorrow. So, after five days of inadequate preparation, we flew to Sichuan.
On the first day, as soon as we got off the plane, Chengdu came into view. I thought it would be a feast for the eyes, but it turned out to be the opposite—a bit like old Changsha. It was already 10:30 a.m., but the sky was still grayish, suggesting some air pollution. Since it was the weekend, there weren’t many cars on the road, and we quickly arrived at the booked hotel.
Although Chengdu’s modern architecture isn’t particularly distinctive, its ancient alleys and streets have a unique charm. Our first stop was the entrance of Kuanzhai Alley. As soon as we got out of the car, an old hotpot restaurant appeared before us. We were already starving, and the aroma of hotpot drifting all around led us straight into the restaurant by the nose.
To be honest, the hotpot wasn’t as delicious as I had imagined. Even though we were hungry and ordered a full table, we didn’t have that lingering aftertaste. I wonder if we didn’t get the most authentic one. Next time, I’ll definitely Baidu to find out which one is the best! After eating and drinking our fill, we started strolling around the alley. At the beginning, there was a row of snack stalls, with various snacks neatly displayed—red chili peppers, green cilantro, yellow sesame oil… The clever combination was very pleasing to the eye. On both sides of the road were rows of dazzling small shops, decorated in ethnic styles with colorful merchandise.
Kuanzhai Alley consists of Wide Alley and Narrow Alley. Although it’s called Wide Alley, it couldn’t handle the huge number of visitors, so we just shuffled along with the crowd. After finishing the intricately arranged alleys, we took a taxi to Jinli Ancient Street. The two attractions aren’t far apart—about a 10-minute drive. Compared to Kuanzhai Alley’s simple design combined with ancient architecture, Jinli is more ethnically rich, with all buildings ancient in style and the merchandise focused on ethnic culture. However, the commonality between them is that everywhere you go is colorful. Perhaps due to generations of heritage, Chengdu people seem good at color matching—whether it’s food, clothing, or daily items, they are all bright and vivid, not jarring but beautiful.
We wandered through the two attractions from 12:00 noon until about 5:00 p.m. After dinner, we bought some snacks for the rest of the trip and returned to the hotel to rest. The hotel we stayed in that night deserves a special mention.
Location: The hotel is right in Kuanzhai Alley, known as the 'Chengdu Living Room.'
Metro: Kuanzhai Alley entrance is right at Metro Line 4.
Geographic location: The location is fantastic! It’s inside the Kuanzhai Alley scenic area, so you can go out and stroll and eat very conveniently. It’s not far from Chunxi Road, Taikoo Li, Tianfu Square, etc. You can take the metro or a taxi; a taxi costs about ten yuan or so.
Hotel style: I really liked the overall style of this homestay. The room design is Japanese-style, made of pure wood structure. The room has a unique fragrance that is very soothing. There are also handmade Shu embroidery in the room, and wrens painted by a master painter specially.
The hotel has many calligraphy, paintings, and antiques that the owner went to great lengths to acquire. Every detail is thoughtful and impeccable.
Room: The door uses an electronic lock, ensuring safety. The entire room, including decorations, bed, etc., is made of phoenix tree wood, giving a faint woody scent that is very relaxing.
There is a dedicated dining area in the room, and the lunch and dinner tastes are quite good.
Bathroom: When I go out, whether staying in a hotel or homestay, my biggest concern is always the bathroom. The cleanliness of the bathroom can absolutely affect my mood. I give the wren’s bathroom a perfect score! The details show understated luxury. Super five-star luxury configuration: Carnation linens, King Koil mattress, Kohler bathroom fixtures, TOTO smart toilet—even turning on the faucet shows the owner’s care.
Wash area: Worth mentioning is the wet-dry separation; you can shower or lie in the bathtub for a soak. The hotel also provides bath salts.
The three-piece toiletries are by June Jacobs (a high-end spa skincare brand from New York, USA). I used this brand before at a Sheraton in Guangdong and loved it. I never thought I’d use it again in Chengdu. According to the butler, June Jacobs customized a set of techniques for the hotel, combining local culture, environment, climate, and some traditional Chinese medicine physiotherapy methods to create the hotel’s unique 'Wren’s Nest in the Woods.'
Bedding: Lying down is extremely comfortable—I fell asleep in no time. The quilt and mattress are soft and skin-friendly. I like buckwheat pillows, and the hotel thoughtfully provided one.
The biggest highlight is the hotel butler—a very enthusiastic group of people. When I was about to arrive at Kuanzhai Alley, the butler contacted me in advance and even came to the alley entrance to pick me up, introducing the culture of Kuanzhai Alley along the way. That alone made me really like the hotel. After arriving at the hotel, the butler learned that I can’t eat spicy food, so for breakfast they specially prepared wontons that were not spicy.
To avoid booking scattered hotels and attraction tickets everywhere, we booked a 3-day, 2-night group tour from Chengdu to Huanglong and Jiuzhaigou in advance (from the 25th to the 27th). Thinking back, this was a very wise decision. Having a guide arrange food, accommodation, and transportation along the way saved us a lot of worry. Since the departure time was 5:30 a.m., we got up at 4:00 a.m. the next morning. Half-asleep, we packed up and waited in the hotel lobby for the pick-up vehicle. This is one of the benefits of a group tour—you don’t have to arrange the car yourself. It takes 8-9 hours by car from Chengdu to Huanglong and Jiuzhaigou. To avoid delaying the day’s visit to Huanglong, tour groups usually depart very early, so sleep is definitely insufficient. After getting on the bus, listening to the guide’s lengthy introduction and instructions, the whole busload of people dozed off. It wasn’t until around 7-8 a.m., when the sky was barely light, that the guide started 'blabbering' again. Having eaten little in the morning, tired from the journey, with the guide’s droning voice in my ears, and the content being about the Wenchuan earthquake and how many people died, my stomach started churning. I really wanted to yell 'Shut up!' but didn’t have the courage to offend the person who would be managing my life for the next few days. Motion sickness medicine is so important for long bus rides! Fortunately, we stopped at a rest point midway, and I got off to catch some air, which saved me from vomiting. The restroom facilities at the rest stops were run by local residents, so they charged 1 yuan, and the conditions were disgusting—I don’t want to recall them. At noon, we arrived at a hotel for lunch, or rather, to fill our stomachs. The guide had already warned us about the food. Personally, I don’t have high expectations for meals, but even I think it was truly bad. Still, there was no choice; we had to make do. Next time, I must bring my own Lao Gan Ma chili sauce—that’ll make the food tasty and keep me healthy! After eating, we set off again without delay. The road twisted along S-shaped mountain paths, with peaks on both sides growing steeper and the colors of mountain plants becoming richer, giving the illusion that we were about to drive into a paradise. But the swaying car constantly pulled my yearning back to reality. We kept winding around until about 2:00 p.m., when we finally reached the nearest medical service station to the Huanglong Scenic Area. After the bus stopped, a staff member came on board to explain the scenic area tour and precautions about altitude sickness. I hadn’t done much research on altitude sickness before; I simply bought a box of Rhodiola capsules. But I didn’t know these capsules need to be taken a week in advance. Taking them at that moment wouldn’t help much. For the sake of my health, and since I was already starting to feel a little chest tightness and shortness of breath, I reluctantly bought a box. I must emphasize here: altitude sickness should not be taken lightly. If you plan to travel to high-altitude places, prepare well in advance—whether by taking medicine ahead or buying oral liquids that you can take on the spot. Prices outside the scenic area are much cheaper. If you really don’t prepare, don’t risk skipping it just to save a few yuan, because a healthy body is the foundation of everything. Shortly after taking the medicine, the bus arrived at the entrance of Huanglong Scenic Area, but it didn’t stop. It kept driving along a seemingly endless line of tourists. The queue stretched back three to four hundred meters, longer than any long queue I saw at Chimelong during peak season! My heart sank—how long would this line take?! The guide was also a bit anxious and urged us to get off and line up before the bus even reached the end of the queue. A chill hit us as we stepped off the bus. We were now at an altitude of about 3,200 meters. Although the sun was shining, the temperature was quite low, so I couldn’t help but pull my clothes tighter.
The scenic area entrance is built in a valley between two mountains that are not far apart. Looking up, the blue sky and white clouds looked like a narrow, gorgeous oil painting covering the mountain peaks. To the right of the queue path was a small stream, babbling clearly and melodically. At some point, everything that met the eye became beautiful pictures—perhaps that’s the charm of this place. After queuing for about forty-plus minutes, we boarded the cable car going up. Maybe because they have to serve many tourists daily, the cable car runs relatively fast. For those with acrophobia, I suggest you don’t open your eyes—it’s thrilling! As the cable car ascended, the view gradually broke free from the valley’s confines, filling with distant mountains. My heart beat faster, whether from the rapid altitude gain or the sight of the majestic peaks. But the feeling quickly disappeared as we reached the top. To be honest, I kind of wished it had lasted longer.
After getting off the cable car, we walked along the boardwalk, enjoying the primeval forest scenery. The generally single-direction boardwalk is common to scenic areas here, protecting both the landscape from damage and the safety of tourists. Huanglong doesn’t have too many attractions; we mainly wanted to see the Five-Color Pond, but it’s at the highest point of the whole area, so we had to walk the entire boardwalk. At first, we were attracted by some tall or oddly shaped trees, but as time went on and our energy waned, such scenery no longer held our attention. Plus, by this time, Guo Feng was starting to show signs of altitude sickness, making the walk even harder. After about a third of the way, stopping and starting, we reached the first viewing platform. There, I saw a snowy mountain on the plateau for the first time in person. The towering peak rose high into the clouds; the snow on the mountain glittered under the blue sky, with white clouds lingering around the peak, unwilling to leave. Sunlight poured through thick clouds like a Buddha’s halo—truly spectacular. I had seen snowy mountains in TV shows, movies, or novels before, especially the Changbai Mountain in "The Lost Tomb." While reading, I was also amazed, but I couldn’t fully grasp its grandeur. Seeing it now, I understood it more deeply, and I felt a desire to visit Changbai Mountain.
After admiring the view for a few minutes, we continued along the boardwalk toward the attraction closer to the snow mountain—Huanglong’s Five-Color Pond (I emphasize Huanglong because Jiuzhaigou also has a Five-Color Pond). This section was even more difficult. Guo Feng’s altitude sickness worsened. Fortunately, we had bought a bottle of oxygen while queuing; otherwise, I’d be afraid she might pass out. She walked a bit and took two puffs, looking like a critically ill patient. My arm naturally became her solid support. In her high-heeled boots, she clicked and attracted the stares and exclamations of passersby, her face full of helplessness. I think she was inwardly collapsing =_=". About two-thirds of the way, the boardwalk started going uphill. By then, I was also a bit out of breath, but it felt similar to climbing 8 floors to my apartment back home. I suddenly felt lucky to live on the 8th floor, which allowed me to breathe normally at an altitude of 3,500 meters. These discomforts vanished the moment I saw the Five-Color Pond. Huanglong’s Five-Color Pond consists of more than a dozen pools of various sizes, each like a palette, independent yet complementing each other. The colors are mainly green, blue, and yellow, interspersed with other colors. Looking around, it is like an exquisite painting displayed between heaven and earth, intoxicatingly beautiful. The snow mountain stood majestically at the end of the valley, like a solemn and loyal guardian protecting this sacred land for thousands of years. How much Nature favors this land to bestow such beauty! If only I could lie by the Five-Color Pond, close my eyes, and feel its peaceful atmosphere. But the pools were surrounded by a wall of people, impenetrable. Ah, such is the common phenomenon of popular tourist spots. I stood on tiptoe with difficulty to take a few photos and then reluctantly headed down the mountain.
Indeed, 'It’s easier to go up than down.' Going up was supported by excitement; going down relied entirely on willpower. Although the descending boardwalk passed several attractions, none were as beautiful as the Five-Color Pond. With limited time, we trudged forward in silence. Guo Feng’s double woes (altitude sickness + high heels) had completely drained her usual fighting spirit. I supported her as she limped down. The sky was already quite dark, and we had passed the guide’s agreed meeting time. I couldn’t help feeling anxious. If I had any strength, I would have picked her up and dashed down without a second thought. By about 6:40 p.m., we finally exited the scenic area gate on the verge of collapse. A simple downhill path took us nearly 2 hours. At that moment, I just wanted to take a shower and sleep quickly! But we weren’t the last ones down; two more groups from our tour hadn’t come out yet, including a group of six elderly people. They were six old men and women from Shenyang, chatting and laughing the whole way, showing no signs of their average age of 60. Sometimes I looked at them and wondered: when I am as old as them, will I be able to walk such a difficult path? Will I still have friends willing to accompany me to see the great rivers and mountains of the motherland? Thinking this made me a little sad. We waited on the bus for about half an hour, and finally they came down. One of the elderly women had a more severe altitude reaction and was vomiting a lot. At such an age, climbing Huanglong with a maximum altitude of 3,700 meters—I really admire them! But I also feel nervous for them. There was a complimentary show ticket for 8:00 p.m., but due to the delay on the mountain and everyone being tired, we unanimously agreed to cancel it. That night, we stayed in Chuanzhu Temple at an altitude of about 3,000 meters. Getting off the bus at the hotel, I felt the deep chill of this place—my teeth chattered and my feet trembled involuntarily. After a dinner that lived up to our low expectations, we returned to our rooms to rest. Since we had gone directly from Chengdu at 500 meters altitude to over 3,000 meters that day, the guide specifically advised us not to take a shower or wash our hair to avoid catching a cold, and to sleep on our side to prevent altitude sickness during sleep. I thought the day would end like that, but surprisingly, my companion’s altitude sickness didn’t disappear after coming down the mountain.
At about 1:00 a.m., I was woken by heavy breathing and light. Guo Feng was sitting limply on the bed, her face pained, saying her chest felt like it was crushed by many stones and she couldn’t breathe. I got up to boil some water, intending to give her the Rhodiola capsules we had prepared. I didn’t want to drink the local water; the guide had said the water is rich in minerals and clear, but not suitable for drinking—it could cause kidney stones. But we had no choice; we had run out of bottled water. After boiling, Guo Feng took a sip and felt it burned her throat. In the end, she took the medicine with cold bottled water. After all this commotion, I was wide awake, but Guo Feng showed no signs of improvement, saying she still felt very uncomfortable and wanted to call the guide. I hesitated—it was late at night, and it wasn’t nice to wake someone up. But seeing that the medicine had no effect, I had no choice but to dial the guide’s number. The phone, which was claimed to be on 24 hours, was turned off. I tried two or three times with the same result. My heart sank again. Guo Feng suggested we look for the hotel front desk and check which room she was in. Thinking of the cold wind outside, I was scared, but seeing her in pain, I gritted my teeth and went out. We were on the third floor. Before closing the door, I looked around—not a soul in sight. Of course, who would be outside in the cold of the night? The hotel had a square layout, and from a glance, you could see the whole corridor. Because it was an enclosed structure, the echo was strong; every step I took was accompanied by one or two footsteps, which was eerie. Whether because of the cold or to save electricity, the corridor lights were very dim, a sickly yellow with a hint of pale white. I had to turn on my phone flashlight to walk forward. That gave me several light sources, and my shadow multiplied. Every step I took, I looked around, and my peripheral vision always caught my own shadows on both sides. I knew it was just shadows, but I couldn’t help overthinking. The atmosphere was terrifying! I walked nervously down to the first floor, thinking I would finally see the front desk and people. But to my surprise, the front desk was empty, and the hotel door was wide open. That made my scalp tingle. Even though the walk down was scary, I had always assumed there would be someone at the front desk; if something happened, I could shout for attention. But now, I was sure that in this empty, silent environment, I was the only one. My heart pounded even faster. And then, horror scenes from movies conveniently looped in my mind. I wished I could teleport back to my room! I had thought about going outside to buy some medicine, but through the glass wall, the outside looked like a pitch-black abyss, its mouth agape waiting for me to walk right in. I immediately gave up that idea. I looked for a contact number at the front desk but didn’t find one, so I turned around and walked back. Strange—the more scared you are, the more you try to appear calm, thinking that will make you formidable. Now I realize it’s just a way of self-comfort. If someone were lurking in the dark, they’d only care about whether you have money or not, if you’re good-looking or not—they don’t care if you’re calm or flustered! After what felt like ages of fear, I finally returned to the room. Only after confirming the door was closed did my racing heart settle down. Fortunately, when I left, Guo Feng had vomited and was feeling much better now. I looked at the time—it was 3:00 a.m. We had to get up at 5:00, so there were still two hours to rest. I quickly got into bed and within two minutes fell into a daze.
At 5:00 a.m., the familiar and annoying alarm rang. After struggling for a few minutes, I reluctantly left the warm bed. The 26th was the most important stop of this trip—Jiuzhaigou, the fairy-tale world. We had a whole day to enjoy the scenery. Guo Feng’s energy had basically recovered, which was a great relief. If she were still like yesterday, this trip would have been in vain. The weather that day was somewhat gloomy, with dark clouds hanging over the peaks. A heavy rain seemed inevitable. I missed yesterday’s weather at Huanglong! But we brought raincoats and umbrellas; even if it hailed, nothing would stop us from enjoying the scenery! While waiting for our tickets, I saw a father and daughter from our tour group. I had heard from Guo Feng that the uncle had handed her tissues when she was carsick on the bus earlier. He seemed very gentle and refined. So now, seeing them up close, I couldn’t help but pay more attention. The uncle had some graying hair but looked very energetic. He wore glasses and smiled at people when his eyes met theirs—a warm person indeed. His daughter was young, around 20 years old, with a delicate face, and she smiled as warmly as her father. I hardly ever see young adults traveling alone with their father like that. I felt a little touched. But when I discussed the reason with Guo Feng, she gave a less touching explanation—maybe her mother passed away. That made me feel a bit sad.
Thinking and walking, the gate of Jiuzhaigou Scenic Area appeared before us. The entrance gate was much wider than Huanglong’s, and there was no need for a cable car, so entering was relatively quick. While queuing for the sightseeing bus, it started to rain. Before long, it became heavier, and we had to put on our raincoats. At that moment, I wanted to slap myself. The raincoat I had bought earlier was in my suitcase on the bus, not in my small bag. Now I only had a very cheap giveaway raincoat, the kind that goes over your head. Watching myself look like a dumpling, ten thousand alpacas ran through my mind. I wanted to tear the raincoat to shreds. But in the end, reason won over impulse. I took out an umbrella and put the raincoat over my small bag, then waited with the crowd for the sightseeing bus. Jiuzhaigou has developed three valleys (gou), each of varying lengths. The longest requires over half an hour by bus to the end, the shortest still ten to twenty minutes. Walking is impossible unless you have three days. Therefore, the tour method relies on more than 600 sightseeing buses shuttling constantly. The intersection of the three valleys is the only tourist service center in the valley, also the only place where smoking is allowed. All sightseeing buses are dispatched from there to decide which valley to go to first. After that, the bus drives along the road to the highest point of each valley, then tourists walk back along the boardwalk. Attractions far apart have stops, so you can finish one and immediately take the bus to the next. Our first stop was Rize Valley. We followed the guide’s advice and didn’t go all the way to the primeval forest at the highest point; we got off at Arrow Bamboo Lake instead. Actually, on the bus, the guide briefly introduced the origin and legends of each attraction, and we had a quick glimpse of the picturesque scenery. But when we finally got off and stepped into this fairy-tale world ourselves, we were deeply shocked. These lakes of various sizes are called "haizi" here. Each has its own legend and characteristics. Before us was Arrow Bamboo Lake. Because it’s the innermost lake in this valley, it has more depth and tranquility than the outer ones. The water surface wasn’t very wide; there were plants like reeds on the banks. Since it had just rained, the plants along the boardwalk still had many crystal-clear water droplets. When the wind blew, they fell onto the water, creating ripples.
Continuing down the boardwalk, we arrived at Panda Lake. Panda Lake got its name because the water’s color is black and green, resembling a giant panda. It’s much wider than Arrow Bamboo Lake, with no aquatic plants on the surface, calm as a mirror. By now, the rain had stopped, and the sky above was filled with blue and white clouds, reflected on the water, making the lake even more azure.
When your vision is fully indulged, your sense of taste becomes unimportant. We had breakfast at 6:00 a.m. and then drove to Jiuzhaigou. We had been sightseeing from 8:00 a.m. until now, 12:00 p.m., before our stomachs signaled hunger. So we had a simple snack at the Panda Lake rest area, then boarded the bus to one of Jiuzhaigou’s highlights—Five Flower Lake.
If the haizi of Jiuzhaigou are masterpieces of nature, then Five Flower Lake is a divine creation! Seeing it, you feel that all the hardships of the past few days were worthwhile. Whether the seven or eight hours of bus rides, or the soreness from climbing up and down, her beauty can heal it all. It’s a beauty that intoxicates you, impossible to tear yourself away from; a beauty that cannot be described in any language; a beauty that makes people willingly endure hardships to find. Those who see her are reluctant to look away, afraid of missing even a second of this encounter. They instinctively pull out their cameras to capture her beauty, because it’s too much to absorb in a short time. They temporarily forget all worries, filling every corner of their hearts with her image. I’ve always dreamed of beautiful scenery, but the beauty of Five Flower Lake is beyond my wildest dreams. Unfortunately, the lake was surrounded by people unwilling to leave. With reluctance, we left this fairyland, looking back every step, but our hearts remained unsettled for a long time.
Below Five Flower Lake is Pearl Shoal Waterfall. The waterfall’s grandeur can’t compare to big waterfalls across the country, but this patch of white in the specific scenery is unique. Plus, this waterfall was a filming location for the 1986 version of "Journey to the West," attracting many people to watch and take photos.
Continuing down, we reached Mirror Lake. But with Five Flower Lake as the jewel, other lakes lost some of their charm. Down further, we returned to Nuorilang Tourist Center. After a short break, we took another bus to the next valley—Zechawa Valley. This is the longest of the three valleys but has relatively few attractions—only four. Going up, we decided to visit two attractions: Long Lake and Five-Color Pond. After a half-hour bus ride, we reached the top of the valley—Long Lake.
Long Lake is like the mother lake of all Jiuzhaigou’s haizi. Because of its high altitude and location at the foot of the snow mountain, its water volume is stable across seasons, supplying water to other lakes. Standing on the viewing platform looking down, a pure blue expanse met my eyes. Even though the sky above was blue with white clouds, the lake didn’t reflect them; instead, it seemed to absorb the blue of the sky deep into its body. Through the ripples stirred by the occasional breeze, it playfully teased visitors’ gazes. The snow-capped mountain stood at the end of Long Lake, giving its love and protection selflessly. If Long Lake is the mother, then the distant snow mountain is the father like a mountain. By the edge of the platform below Long Lake, there is a magical pine tree. Its branches all grow in one direction, like an old butler silently welcoming guests from afar. The boardwalk from Long Lake to Five-Color Pond is the steepest in Jiuzhaigou. By then, my calves and right knee started to ache. I don’t know if it was from too much walking in recent days or from catching a chill. That section was also a bit tough. Finally, Guo Feng’s altitude sickness was gone, but my knee started acting up. Ah, visual pleasure always comes at a cost.
Descending from Long Lake, we arrived at Jiuzhaigou’s second highlight—Five-Color Pond. Jiuzhaigou’s Five-Color Pond is different from Huanglong’s. It’s a single, smaller pool, but it has another color that other lakes lack. Besides the clear-to-the-bottom green, there is a special fluorescent green. Whether it’s from light refraction or unique minerals in the pool, the deep and shallow, the still and moving, adorn Five-Color Pond with a breathtaking beauty. Because it’s small, the pool was even more surrounded by people, making it hard to approach. With a selfie stick, I managed to take a full view photo, but the picture was filled with others’ phone screens. It seems people’s aesthetic sense is the same when it comes to great beauty.
Exiting Five-Color Pond, we took a sightseeing bus directly out of the valley. We arrived at Nuorilang Tourist Center at 3:30 p.m. The guide’s meeting time was 5:30 p.m., so we only had two hours left. We hadn’t yet toured Shuzheng Valley heading toward the exit. Without resting, we got on the bus again. Luckily, the highlights of Jiuzhaigou were already deeply imprinted in our minds. Along the way, we made brief stops at Rhinoceros Lake, Spark Lake, and Penjing Beach, then exited the scenic area gate. This time we came out relatively early, arriving at the bus by 5:00 p.m. The sky in Jiuzhaigou was already starting to darken. This day was really tiring, but it was also happily exhausting. Interestingly, the young couple sitting next to me had a quarrel for some reason. The woman looked very angry, and no matter how the man coaxed her, it was useless. Whenever he put his arm around her, she ruthlessly shook it off. The scene was awkward, but I couldn’t help wanting to laugh. Before this, they had chattered nonstop from the moment they got on the bus. Now they were completely silent. I didn’t pay too much attention; shortly after getting on, I fell into a daze. When I opened my eyes, I found the bus empty. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming or had encountered something supernatural. Though slightly panicked, I knew calmness was the only solution, so I remained seated without moving. It wasn’t until Guo Feng came to get me that I learned an hour had passed since boarding. One of the itinerary items arranged by the guide was visiting a Tibetan family home. Everyone else had already gotten off. Only I, because I was asleep, hadn’t noticed the bus stopping or the guide’s voice. Even with all that noise, I slept through it—I had to admire myself! But I was too tired, so I asked Guo Feng to go by herself while I stayed on the bus to rest, waiting for their return. I waited about an hour before they came back, and the day’s itinerary was finally over.
On the morning of the 27th, we still got up at 5:00 a.m. and departed at 6:30 a.m. Since this was the last day back to Chengdu, I couldn’t help feeling a bit reluctant. Although it was the last day, we still visited three spots in the morning that were ostensibly to understand ethnic minority culture but were actually shopping stops: a silver jewelry store, a specialty supermarket, and a silk product store. Although tinged with commercialism, they still helped us learn about the customs and culture of ethnic minorities—a different kind of gain.
After leaving the silver jewelry store and getting on the bus, I noticed that the young couple next to me had made up again, back to their usual chattering. The woman now had a silver bracelet on her wrist. Indeed, shopping is the best way to appease a woman! At 2:00 p.m., we departed from the silk culture center in Chuanzhu Temple, starting our 8-hour return journey. First, the bus had to cross a snow mountain at an altitude of about 4,200 meters before driving out of the mountains. Since it was daytime, we could enjoy the beautiful scenery on the snowy mountain up close. So, although I was very sleepy, I couldn’t bear to close my eyes. Despite all my reluctance, the blue sky, white clouds, and lofty mountains gradually receded behind me. The bus continued to spiral upward. Chuanzhu Temple at the foot grew smaller and smaller. When the bus reached the highest point, looking out the window, the distant snow-capped mountains appeared starkly before us. Unlike the lofty, untouchable snowy mountains we had seen earlier, these now seemed close enough to touch. The shock from this level view was incomparable to looking up. I suddenly had the illusion that the bus would break through the guardrail on the cliff edge and drive straight into the snow mountain. I wondered if there were bronze doors and Zhang Qiling inside that snow mountain. The majestic snow mountain was incredibly beautiful and magnificent! I never thought I’d see such a beautiful sight on the last day—one word: worth it! Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to take a photo from the bus. After descending the snow mountain, the scenery returned to ordinary, like falling from heaven to earth. Finally, I allowed myself to sleep. The drive out of the mountains felt excruciatingly long without any anticipation to sustain me. Every time I dozed off and woke up, only a few minutes had passed—time dragged like years. The only silver lining was that I didn’t feel carsick at all. Maybe I had gotten used to the swaying motion over the past few days. I don’t want to go into the painful details of the journey. After about 6 hours of bumps, the outside gradually began to resemble a city. Oh my god, we finally drove out of the mountains! The bus stopped at Jinniu Dam Road on Chengdu’s Third Ring Road, marking the end of our group tour. The guide on this trip had many shortcomings, especially on the night Guo Feng had altitude sickness, but she was conscientious in the process. So I am still very grateful to her. After getting off the bus, we planned to take a taxi to the booked hotel, but the road to the hotel was blocked. So we rebooked a hotel near the drop-off point. After checking in, it was already past 11:00 p.m. We were so hungry that we went to a nearby McDonald’s for a burger. We didn’t sleep until after 12:30 a.m.
That sleep was particularly comfortable. When the alarm went off at 7:00 a.m., I thought I was dreaming. Since the last day involved going to Chongqing and we had booked a 10:50 a.m. bullet train ticket, I didn’t dare sleep in. After washing up, I hurried out. At 10:00 a.m., we arrived at Chengdu East Station and got our tickets. I looked back at the city of Chengdu, then plunged into the waiting room. On the bullet train, I was lost in memories of the trip, not paying attention to the scenery along the way. Before I knew it, we arrived at the mountain city—Chongqing. The name ‘mountain city’ is well-deserved. Looking out the taxi window, tall buildings rose like mountains everywhere. The roads were winding and narrow; the car went up a steep slope every few steps. Even in the city center, you could see low hills. So the greening rate is high. Mountain city—mountain first, city later. It’s not that the mountain adapted to the city’s development, but that the city accommodated the mountain’s steadfastness. The taxi driver recommended a good bowl-and-pea noodle restaurant near Chongqing’s Liberation Monument, which supposedly had been featured on TV. Since it was close to Hongya Cave, we went to try it. To be honest, it was just okay. For some reason, since stepping off the train, I had an inexplicable dislike for this city—not even half the fondness I had for Chengdu. Maybe I felt that people in Chongqing are relatively indifferent. After eating, we didn’t know where to go with our luggage. Dragging suitcases around sightseeing is really not a wise choice—crowded and a bit awkward. So when we reached the entrance of Hongya Cave, I decided to stay and watch the luggage and not go in. Guo Feng didn’t find it fun to go alone, plus she felt a bit unwell, so she came out after a short while.
Since the taxi driver had told us earlier that Chongqing has narrow roads and many one-way streets, so traffic jams during rush hour are severe, we took a taxi to Beichuan Airport at 4:00 p.m. to avoid traffic. We arrived at the airport at 5:00 p.m. Our flight was at 8:30 p.m., so we spent the last three hours of the trip in a self-service restaurant. At 10:30 p.m., the plane landed at Guangzhou Baiyun Airport, and our trip truly came to an end.
This journey had its hardships and surprises. Overall, it was very worthwhile. This spontaneous trip started in Chengdu and ended in Chongqing. It allowed me to appreciate the wonders of nature and feel the different characters of each city. If there is any regret, it’s that I didn’t stay longer at Five Flower Lake. But regret fuels the next trip. The beauty of Jiuzhaigou is never enough, even after a thousand visits. However, next time I will definitely choose a direct flight to Jiuhuang Airport, and never again endure the 8 hours of bumpy travel.
