Jiuzhaigou in My Dreams, Here I Come!!
This trip was hastily decided after a drinking session, so much so that when I woke up the next morning, I half wondered if I had been telling a joke. But anyway, there was a sense of 'truth from wine'. I had always been stuck in this southern city, with thoughts of going out but constantly shelved by all sorts of unfounded excuses. My friend was right—don't make excuses; just go if you want to. If you deny your own idea today, you might never have any ideas tomorrow. So after five days of insufficient preparation, we flew to Sichuan.
On the first day, as soon as we got off the plane, Chengdu came into view. I had expected it to amaze me, but it was quite the opposite—it gave me a bit of an old Changsha vibe. It was already 10:30 in the morning, yet the sky was still gray, suggesting a fair amount of air pollution. Since it was the weekend, there weren't many cars on the road, and we quickly reached our 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 wafting everywhere led us straight into the place.
To be honest, the hotpot wasn't as delicious as I had imagined. Even though we were hungry and ordered a table full of food, it didn't leave us wanting more. Maybe we didn't get the most authentic one; next time I'll have to search online for the best place! After eating and drinking our fill, we started strolling through the alley. At the beginning of the alley was a row of food stalls, each neatly displaying all kinds of snacks. The aroma was enticing—red chilies, green cilantro, yellow sesame oil... all cleverly combined, a feast for the eyes. On both sides of the road were rows of small shops filled with colorful goods, decorated in a distinctive ethnic style.
Kuanzhai Alley consists of Wide Alley and Narrow Alley. Although it's called 'Wide Alley', it couldn't withstand the crowd of tourists. We just flowed slowly with the crowd. After walking through the staggered alleys, we took a taxi to Jinli Ancient Street. The two attractions aren't far apart—about a 10-minute drive. Compared to the combination of simple design and ancient architecture in Kuanzhai Alley, Jinli has a stronger ethnic flavor. All the buildings are antique, and the goods sold lean heavily toward ethnic culture. But the common thread between them is that everywhere you go, it's colorful. Perhaps due to generations of tradition, people in Chengdu seem to be masters of color matching—whether food, clothing, or accessories, everything has a bright hue that doesn't clash but is very beautiful.
We visited both attractions from 12 noon until about 5 PM. After dinner, we bought some snacks for the upcoming trip and returned to the hotel to rest. The hotel we stayed at that night deserves a special mention.
Location: The hotel is located in Kuanzhai Alley, known as 'Chengdu's living room'.
Metro: Right at the entrance of Kuanzhai Alley is Metro Line 4.
Geographic location: The location is absolutely fantastic! Right inside the Kuanzhai Alley scenic area, you can step out and stroll or eat—very convenient. Chunxi Road, Taikoo Li, Tianfu Square, etc. are also not far away. You can take the metro or a taxi; if by taxi, it's around 10 yuan.
Hotel style: I really like the overall style of this B&B. The room design is Japanese-style, built entirely of pure wood, giving off a unique, pleasant scent. The room also features handmade Shu embroidery and a painting of a wren bird specially done by a famous artist.
The hotel has many calligraphy, paintings, and antiques that the owner took great pains to collect. Every detail is meticulously thought out—flawless.
Room: The door uses an electronic lock, ensuring safety. The entire room, including decorations and bed, is made of phoenix tree wood, giving off a faint woody fragrance that is very relaxing.
The room has a dedicated dining area, and the lunch and dinner were quite tasty.
Bathroom: Whenever I go out, whether staying in a hotel or B&B, the bathroom is always my main focus. Its cleanliness can definitely affect my mood. The wren-themed bathroom deserves full marks! Details reveal understated luxury: five-star-plus amenities—Carnation linens, King Koil mattresses, Kohler bathroom products, TOTO smart toilets. Even turning on a faucet makes you feel the owner's care.
Washbasin area: The washbasin area is wet-dry separated. You can take a shower or soak in the bathtub; the hotel even provides bath salts.
The three-piece toiletries are from June Jacobs (a high-end New York spa skincare brand). I had used this brand before at a Sheraton in Guangdong and loved it. I never expected to use it again in Chengdu. According to the butler, June Jacobs specially customized a set of techniques for the hotel, combining local culture, environment, climate, and traditional Chinese medical therapies to create the hotel's unique 'Wren's Nest in the Forest' treatment.
Bedding: Lying down was incredibly comfortable—I fell asleep in minutes. The quilt and mattress are soft and skin-friendly. I like buckwheat pillows, and the hotel thoughtfully provided one for me.
The biggest highlight was 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 gave me a great impression of the hotel. After arriving, the butler learned that I can't eat spicy food, so for breakfast they specially prepared a wonton soup without spicy seasoning.
To avoid booking various hotels and attraction tickets separately, we had pre-booked a 3-day, 2-night tour from Chengdu to Huanglong and Jiuzhaigou (25th-27th). Looking back, this was a very wise decision. Having a guide arrange the meals, accommodation, and transport along the way saved us a lot of trouble. Since the bus departed at 5:30 AM, we got up at 4 AM the next day, groggily packed, and waited at the hotel lobby for the pick-up. That's another advantage of a tour—you don't have to arrange transport yourself. It takes 8-9 hours by car from Chengdu to Huanglong and Jiuzhaigou. To avoid delaying the day's Huanglong tour, tour groups usually depart very early, so sleep is definitely insufficient. After boarding, we listened to the guide's lengthy introduction and instructions, then the whole bus dozed off. Around 7-8 AM, the sky had just started to lighten. The guide started talking again, this time about the Wenchuan earthquake and how many people died. Having eaten little breakfast and suffering from travel fatigue, combined with the guide's droning voice, my stomach began to churn. I really wanted to yell 'Shut up!' but didn't have the courage to offend the person who would control my life for the next few days. Motion sickness medicine is absolutely essential for long bus rides! Fortunately, we stopped at a rest point, and I got off for some fresh air, avoiding vomiting. The restrooms at the stops were run by locals, charging 1 yuan each, and the conditions were disgusting—I don't want to recall them.
At noon, we arrived at a hotel for lunch—or rather, just to fill our stomachs. The guide had already warned us about the food, and I didn't have high expectations anyway, but even I found it truly terrible. But there was no choice; when you're under someone's roof, you have to make do. Next time, I'll definitely bring my own Lao Gan Ma chili sauce—it'll make any meal delicious and keep you healthy! After eating, we hurriedly set off, winding up the S-shaped mountain road. The peaks on both sides became steeper, and the colors of the plants grew richer, giving an illusion of driving into a paradise. But the constantly swaying car kept pulling my longing back to reality. After twisting and turning until about 2 PM, 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 about visiting the scenic area and precautions for altitude sickness. I hadn't really looked into altitude sickness before coming, only bought a box of Rhodiola rosea capsules, not knowing they need to be taken a week in advance. Taking them on the spot is useless. For the sake of my health, and since I already started feeling a bit chest tight and short of breath, I reluctantly bought a box of oral liquid. I must emphasize: altitude sickness is no joke. If you're going to a high-altitude place, prepare in advance—whether by taking medicine beforehand or buying oral liquids on the spot. They're much cheaper outside than inside the scenic area, but if you really haven't prepared, don't risk it just to save a few dollars. Good health is the foundation of everything.
Shortly after taking the medicine, the bus reached the entrance of Huanglong scenic area, but it didn't stop. It kept driving alongside a long line of tourists stretching endlessly ahead. The queue extended back three to four hundred meters, longer than even the peak-season lines at Chimelong! My heart sank. How long would we have to wait? The guide was also anxious. Before the bus even stopped at the end of the line, he urged us to get off and queue. As soon as I stepped off, a chill hit me. We were now at an altitude of about 3,200 meters. Despite the bright sunshine, the temperature was quite low, so I pulled my clothes tighter.
The entrance to the scenic area is set in a valley between two mountains that aren't far apart. Looking up, the blue sky and white clouds stretched like a narrow, beautiful oil painting atop the peaks. To the right of the queue path was a small stream, gurgling and clear. I don't know when it started, but every scene before my eyes became a beautiful picture—perhaps that's the charm of this place. After about 40 minutes of queuing, we got on the cable car up the mountain. Maybe because there are many tourists every day, the cable car ran relatively fast. I suggest those afraid of heights definitely keep their eyes closed—it's really thrilling! As the cable car ascended, the view gradually broke free from the valley, filled with distant high mountains. I don't know if it was the rapid rise or the sight of the majestic peaks, but my heart beat faster and faster. However, that feeling quickly disappeared once we reached the top—though I was a bit disappointed to be honest.
After getting off the cable car, we followed the boardwalk, enjoying the primeval forest along the way. The boardwalks here are common in scenic areas—they both protect the landscape and ensure visitor safety. Huanglong doesn't have many attractions; our main target was the Five-Color Pond, but it's at the highest point of the scenic area, so we had to follow the boardwalk all the way. Initially, we were attracted by tall or oddly shaped trees, but as time passed and energy waned, such sights no longer held our attention. Moreover, by then, Guo Feng was starting to suffer from altitude sickness, making the walk even harder. After walking about a third of the way, at the first viewing platform, I saw a snow-capped mountain on the plateau for the first time. The towering peak rose into the clouds, its snow shimmering against the blue sky. White clouds lingered motionless at the summit, and sunlight poured through the thick clouds like Buddha's light—spectacular. I had seen snow mountains in movies, TV shows, or novels before, especially Changbai Mountain in 'The Lost Tomb'. While reading, I was shocked, but I couldn't fully grasp its grandeur. Now, seeing it in person, I understood it more deeply, and I got the idea to visit Changbai Mountain.
After a few minutes at the viewing platform, 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 harder. Guo Feng's altitude sickness worsened. Fortunately, I had bought a bottle of oxygen while queuing, or I might have been worried she'd pass out. She had to take a puff every few steps, looking like a high-risk patient. My arm naturally became her sturdy support. Wearing high-heeled boots, she clicked along, drawing stares of surprise and admiration. Her face showed helplessness; I think she was inwardly freaking out. About two-thirds of the way, the boardwalk started going uphill. At that point, I was also a bit out of breath, but it felt like climbing to the 8th floor at home. I suddenly felt lucky to live on the 8th floor, as it allowed me to breathe normally at 3,500 meters. All these discomforts vanished the moment we saw the Five-Color Pond. Huanglong's Five-Color Pond is made up of more than a dozen pools of various sizes, each like an independent palette that also complements the others. The colors are mainly green, blue, and yellow, with other hues interspersed. Looking at it from afar, it's like a exquisite painting displayed between heaven and earth—breathtakingly beautiful. At that moment, the snow mountain stood majestically at the end of the valley, like a stern and loyal guard, protecting this sacred land for millennia. How deeply nature must have favored this land to grant such beauty! If only I could lie by the pond, close my eyes, and soak in its serene atmosphere. But the pond was surrounded by people as solid as a city wall; we couldn't squeeze in. Alas, that's the common phenomenon of popular tourist spots. I managed to stand on tiptoe and take a few photos, then reluctantly headed down the mountain.
'Going up is easy, going down is hard'—that saying is absolutely true. Going up, you're sustained by excitement; going down relies purely on willpower. The downhill boardwalk passed a few other sights, but none were as beautiful as the Five-Color Pond. Plus, time was limited, so we trudged silently forward. Guo Feng's 'two highs' (altitude sickness + high heels) had completely drained her fighting spirit. I helped her hobble down, limping along. It was already getting dark, and we had passed the guide's meeting time. I couldn't help feeling anxious. I thought if I had the strength, I would have carried her down without a word. At around 6:40 PM, we finally made it out of the scenic area, on the verge of collapse. That simple downhill path took us nearly 2 hours. All I wanted was to quickly shower and sleep! But we weren't the last ones down; two groups from our tour were still missing, including a group of six elderly people. They were six old men and women from Shenyang, laughing and chatting all the way, looking like they were having a great time despite their average age of 60. Sometimes, seeing them, I wondered if I could walk such a tough path when I'm that old. Would I still have friends willing to accompany me to see the beautiful landscapes of our country? That thought made me a little sad. We waited on the bus for about half an hour, and finally they came down. One of the aunties was suffering from severe altitude sickness and vomiting badly. It's admirable that at that age they climbed Huanglong with a maximum altitude of 3,700 meters! But it also made me sweat for them. At 8 PM, we originally had tickets for a show as a free gift, but since we were delayed on the mountain and everyone was exhausted, we unanimously agreed to cancel it. That night we stayed in Chuanzhu Temple, at about 3,000 meters altitude. As soon as we got off the bus at the hotel, we felt the deep chill of the place; my teeth started chattering and my feet trembled involuntarily. After a dinner we had no expectations for, we each went to our rooms to rest. Since we had come directly from Chengdu at 500 meters to over 3,000 meters that day, the guide specifically told us not to shower or wash our hair to avoid catching a cold, and to sleep on our sides to prevent altitude sickness during sleep. I thought the day would end like that, but unfortunately, my companion's altitude sickness didn't go away even after descending.
At around 1 AM, I was woken by heavy breathing and light. Guo Feng was sitting limply on the bed, her face pained, saying she felt like a pile of stones was pressing on her chest and she couldn't breathe. I got up to boil some water, planning to give her the Rhodiola rosea capsules we had prepared. I didn't want to use the tap water; the guide had said it's rich in minerals, clear but not suitable for drinking—it could cause kidney stones. But I had no choice; the bottled water we bought earlier was gone. After boiling, Guo Feng took a sip and felt a burning sensation in her throat. In the end, she took the medicine with cold mineral water. After all that fuss, I couldn't sleep, but Guo Feng showed no improvement. She said she still felt terrible and wanted to call the guide. I hesitated—it was the middle of the night, not nice to wake someone up. But since the medicine didn't work, I had no choice. I dialed the guide's number, but the phone, which claimed to be on 24/7, was turned off. I tried two or three more times with the same result. My heart sank again. Guo Feng suggested we find the hotel front desk to check which room she was in. The thought of the cold wind outside scared me, but seeing Guo Feng's suffering, I gritted my teeth and went out. We were on the third floor. Before closing the door, I glanced around—no one in sight. Of course, who would be outside in the cold at this hour? The hotel was built in a 'mouth' shape, so you could see the entire corridor clearly. Because it's enclosed, the echo was very distinct; every step I took produced one or two footsteps, which was eerie. Whether due to the cold or the hotel trying to save electricity, the corridor lights were dim, a mix of yellow and pale white. I had to use my phone's flashlight to see ahead, creating multiple light sources and several shadows. Every step I took, I'd look around nervously. Out of the corner of my eye, I'd catch my own shadows, and even though I knew rationally what they were, my mind couldn't help wandering. The atmosphere was terrifying! I nervously made it to the first floor, thinking I'd finally see someone at the front desk, but it was empty. The hotel's main door was open, which made my scalp tingle. The walk before had been scary, but I had assumed at least the front desk would have someone. If something happened, I could scream for attention. But now, I was certain I was the only person in this empty, silent space. My heart raced even faster. At that moment, horror movie scenes I'd seen conveniently played on repeat in my mind. I wished I could teleport back to the room! I thought about going outside to buy medicine, but through the glass wall, the outside looked like a pitch-black abyss, gaping open, waiting for me to walk in. I immediately gave up that idea. I searched for a contact number at the front desk but found nothing, then turned around and hurried back. Strangely, the more scared you are, the more you want to appear calm, as if that would intimidate others. Now I realize that's just a form of self-consolation. If someone were lurking in the dark, they'd only care about whether you have money or not, regardless of whether you look calm or panicked. After what felt like an eternity of fear, I finally reached the room. Only after confirming the door was locked did my heart settle. Fortunately, Guo Feng had vomited right after I left and was feeling much better now. I checked the time—it was 3 AM. We had to get up at 5, so we had two hours to rest. I quickly got into bed and fell asleep within minutes.
At 5 AM, the familiar yet annoying alarm went off. After a few minutes of struggle, I reluctantly left the warm bed. The 26th was the most important stop of this trip—the fairy-tale world of Jiuzhaigou. We had the whole day to enjoy the scenery. Guo Feng had basically recovered, which was a huge relief! Otherwise, if she were still like yesterday, this trip would have been a waste. The weather that day was rather gloomy, with dark clouds covering the mountaintops. A heavy rain seemed inevitable. I missed yesterday's Huanglong weather! But we had raincoats and umbrellas—even if it hailed, it couldn't stop us from enjoying the views! While waiting for tickets, I noticed a father-daughter pair from our tour group. I'd heard from Guo Feng that earlier on the bus, when she was carsick and vomiting, the middle-aged gentleman had given her tissues. He was very refined, so seeing him up close, I paid more attention. His hair was a bit gray, but he seemed energetic, wearing glasses. When he made eye contact with anyone, he would smile warmly. He was indeed a kind person. His daughter looked young, probably around 20, with a fresh appearance, and her smile was as warm as her father's. It's rare nowadays to see someone so old traveling alone with their father. I couldn't help feeling moved. But when I discussed it with Guo Feng, she offered a less touching reason—maybe the mother had passed away. That made me feel sad.
Lost in thought, we arrived at the entrance of Jiuzhaigou scenic area. The gate was much wider than Huanglong's, and since there was no cable car needed, the queue moved relatively fast. While waiting for the sightseeing bus, it indeed started drizzling, then soon poured. We had to put on raincoats. At that moment, I wanted to slap myself—the raincoat I bought in advance was in my suitcase on the bus, not in my small bag. All I had was a cheap, shoddy raincoat that you put over your head. Looking at my body, stuffed like a bun, I felt like a million curses running through my mind. I really wanted to tear that raincoat to pieces. But rationality prevailed. I took out my umbrella, covered my small bag with the raincoat, and continued with the crowd waiting for the bus. Jiuzhaigou has three developed valleys, each of different lengths. The longest takes over half an hour by sightseeing bus to reach the end; the shortest takes 10-20 minutes. Walking is impossible unless you spend three days here. So the touring method relies on over 600 sightseeing buses shuttling constantly. The intersection of the three valleys is the only tourist service center and the only smoking area. All buses are dispatched there to decide which valley to go to first. Once decided, the bus drives along the road to the highest point of each valley, and then tourists walk back along the boardwalk. You can get on and off at stops for farther attractions, allowing us to visit one spot and then quickly take the bus to the next. Our first valley was Rize Valley. Following the guide's advice, we didn't go to the primeval forest at the highest point of Rize Valley; instead, we got off at Arrow Bamboo Lake. The guide had already briefly introduced the origins and legends of each attraction on the bus, and we had taken a quick look at the picturesque scenery. But when we finally got off and walked into this fairy-tale world ourselves, we were deeply stunned. These lakes of various sizes are called 'Haizi' here, each with its own legend and character. The first one we saw was Arrow Bamboo Lake. Being the innermost lake of this valley, it had more depth and tranquility compared to the outer ones. The water surface wasn't very wide, with many reed-like plants along the shore. Since it had just rained, crystal-clear water droplets hung on the plants beside the boardwalk. When the wind blew, they fell onto the water, creating ripples.
Following the boardwalk downward, we arrived at Panda Lake. It gets its name because the lake's surface is split into black and green areas, resembling a giant panda. Panda Lake is much larger than Arrow Bamboo Lake. There are no aquatic plants on the surface; it's as calm as a mirror. By then, the rain had stopped, and the sky above was filled with blue sky and white clouds, reflected on the water, making the lake look even more azure.
When your vision is fully satisfied, your sense of taste becomes secondary. We had breakfast at 6 AM, then drove to Jiuzhaigou. From 8 AM until noon, we hadn't felt hungry until now. So we had a simple snack at the Panda Lake rest area, then boarded the bus to one of Jiuzhaigou's gems—Five Flower Lake.
If the lakes of Jiuzhaigou are nature's masterpieces, then Five Flower Lake is nature's divine creation! Seeing it, you feel that all the hardships of the past few days were worth it—whether the 7-8 hour bus ride or the aching legs from climbing up and down. Its beauty has healing power; it's a beauty that intoxicates you beyond rescue, a beauty that no words can describe, a beauty that makes people willingly endure countless hardships to find. People who see it can't bear to look away, afraid of missing even a second of this encounter. They instinctively reach for their cameras to capture her beauty because it's impossible to absorb in a short time. All worries temporarily vanish, and every corner of the heart is filled with her image. I have always dreamed of beautiful scenery, but the beauty of Five Flower Lake is something I never even dreamed of. Unfortunately, the lakeside was crowded with people unwilling to leave. With reluctance, we left this paradise, looking back with every step, our hearts unsettled.
Below Five Flower Lake is Pearl Shoal Waterfall. Its grandeur can't compare to some famous waterfalls in China, but this patch of white in this specific landscape is unique. Since it was a filming location for the 1986 TV series 'Journey to the West', it still attracted many onlookers taking photos.
Continuing down from the waterfall, we reached Mirror Lake. But after the jade of Five Flower Lake, the other lakes seemed somewhat less attractive. Farther down, we returned to Nuorilang Tourist Center, where we took a short break before boarding the bus to the next valley—Zechawa Valley. This is the longest of the three valleys, but with relatively fewer attractions—only four. Along the way up, we decided to visit just the two inside: Long Lake and Five-Color Pond. After a 30-minute bus ride, we reached the highest point of the valley—Long Lake.
Long Lake is like the mother of all the lakes in Jiuzhaigou. Due to its high altitude and location at the foot of a snow mountain, its water volume is stable through all seasons, supplying the other lakes. Standing on the viewing platform, a pure blue expanse came into view. Although the sky above was blue with white clouds, the lake didn't reflect them; instead, it seemed to absorb the sky's blue deeply into itself, playing with visitors' eyes through ripples stirred by the breeze. The snow-capped mountain stood majestically at the far end of the lake, selflessly offering its love and guardianship. If Long Lake is the mother, then the distant snow mountain is the father like a mountain. Below the Long Lake viewing platform, there's a peculiar pine with branches all growing 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 aching—maybe from too much walking or catching a chill. This section was also tough. Just when Guo Feng's altitude sickness was gone, my knee started acting up. Alas, visual pleasure comes at a cost.
Descending from Long Lake, we arrived at Jiuzhaigou's second gem—the Five-Color Pond. Unlike Huanglong's Five-Color Pond, this one is a single, smaller pool but with a special color not found in other lakes. Besides the crystal-clear green, there's a distinctive fluorescent green. I don't know if it's due to light refraction or unique minerals in the water, but this interplay of shades and stillness creates a breathtaking beauty. Because it's small, the pool was even harder to approach, surrounded by crowds. I managed to take a full view photo with a selfie stick, but the picture was filled with other people's phone screens. It seems everyone has the same taste for great beauty.
After leaving Five-Color Pond, we took a sightseeing bus directly out of the valley. Arriving at Nuorilang Tourist Center, it was already 3:30 PM. Since the guide had set a meeting time of 5:30 PM, we only had two hours left, and we hadn't visited Shuzheng Valley, the valley heading toward the exit. So without resting, we boarded a bus. Fortunately, the highlights of Jiuzhaigou were already deeply imprinted in our minds. We made brief stops at Rhinoceros Lake, Spark Lake, and Bonsai Shoal before exiting the scenic area. This time we came out relatively early, arriving at the bus by 5 PM. The sky in Jiuzhaigou was starting to darken. It was an exhausting day, but also a happy kind of tired. Interestingly, the young couple sitting next to me on the bus had a fight for some reason. The woman looked very angry, no matter how the man coaxed her, it was useless. When he tried to put his arm around her, she pushed it away coldly. The scene was awkward, but I found it a bit funny. Earlier, they had been chattering non-stop from boarding to alighting, but now they were completely silent. I didn't pay much attention. Soon after the bus started, I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, the bus was empty. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming or had encountered something spooky. Although a bit panicked, I knew calmness solves everything, so I stayed put. Eventually, Guo Feng came to get me, telling me that an hour had passed since we got on the bus. It was now one of the arranged activities—visiting a Tibetan family. Everyone else had gotten off, but I had been sleeping and didn't hear the bus stop or the guide's voice. I was surprised at myself for sleeping so soundly! But I was too tired, so I told Guo Feng to go alone while I stayed in the car to rest. I waited for an hour until they came back, marking the end of the day's itinerary.
On the 27th, we got up at 5 AM as usual and departed at 6:30 AM. Since it was the last day back to Chengdu, I couldn't help feeling reluctant. Although it was the final day, we still visited three attractions in the morning that were nominally about learning about minority culture but were actually shopping spots: one silver jewelry store, one specialty supermarket, and one silk product store. Despite the commercial aspect, they did teach us a lot about minority customs and culture—a different kind of gain.
After leaving the silver jewelry store and getting back on the bus, I noticed that the young couple next to me had made up and were back to their usual chatter. The woman had an extra silver bracelet on her wrist. Shopping is indeed the best way to appease a woman! At 2 PM, we departed from the silk cultural center in Chuanzhu Temple, starting the 8-hour return journey. The bus first had to cross a snow mountain with an altitude of about 4,200 meters before driving out of the mountains. Since it was daytime, we could admire the snow mountain scenery up close. Although I was very sleepy, I couldn't bear to close my eyes. Despite the reluctance in my heart, the blue sky, white clouds, and lofty mountains gradually receded from view. The bus kept spiraling upward. Chuanzhu Temple at the foot grew smaller and smaller. When we reached the highest point, looking out through the window, the continuous snow mountains appeared starkly before us. Unlike previous views where the snow mountains seemed aloof and untouchable, now they were almost within arm's reach. The shock of seeing them at eye level was incomparable to looking up. I suddenly had the illusion that the bus would break through the guardrail and drive straight into the snow mountain. I wondered if there were bronze doors and Zhang Qiling inside? The majestic snow mountains were incredibly beautiful and spectacular! I never expected to enjoy such scenery on the last day—totally worth it! Unfortunately, since I was on the bus, I didn't have time to take photos. After coming down the snow mountain, the scenery became ordinary again, like descending from heaven to earth. I finally allowed myself to fall asleep. Without the anticipation of scenic views, the drive out of the mountains felt excruciatingly long. Every time I dozed off, I'd wake up to find only a few minutes had passed. It felt like an eternity. The only consolation was that I didn't feel carsick at all—maybe I had gotten used to the swaying after these days. I won't go into the painful details. After six hours of bouncing, gradually the surroundings began to look like a city. Oh my god! We had finally exited the mountains! The bus stopped at Jinniu Road on Chengdu's Third Ring Road, marking the end of our tour. Our guide had many flaws, especially regarding that night when Guo Feng had altitude sickness, but overall she did her duty, so I'm still grateful to her.
After getting off the bus, we planned to take a taxi to our booked hotel, but the road near the hotel was closed. We had to rebook a hotel near the drop-off point. After checking in, it was already past 11 PM. We were so hungry we went to a nearby McDonald's for a burger. I didn't get to sleep until 12:30 AM.
That sleep was particularly comfortable. When the alarm went off at 7 AM the next morning, I thought I was dreaming. The last day's itinerary was to go to Chongqing. We had bought train tickets at 10:50 AM, so I didn't dare sleep longer. After washing up, we hurried out. At 10 AM, we picked up our tickets at Chengdu East Station. I turned back to look at the city of Chengdu, then plunged into the waiting room. On the train, I kept recalling the bits and pieces of this trip, barely appreciating the scenery along the way. Before I knew it, we arrived at the mountain city—Chongqing. The name 'mountain city' is indeed fitting. Looking out the taxi window, I could see towering buildings like mountains everywhere. The roads were rugged and narrow; every few seconds the car would climb a slope, often steep. Even in the city center, you could still see low hills, so the greenery was abundant. Mountain city: mountain first, city second. It's not the mountain that accommodates the city's development, but the city that gives way to the mountain's steadfastness. The taxi driver recommended a decent Chongqing noodle shop near Jiefangbei that had been featured on TV. Since it was close to Hongyadong, we went to try it. To be honest, it was just okay. I don't know why, but as soon as I got off the train, I felt an inexplicable dislike for this city, not even half the fondness I had for Chengdu. Maybe Chongqing people seem colder. After eating, we had no idea where to go, dragging our suitcases around. Sightseeing with luggage is really not wise—so crowded and awkward. So when we reached the entrance of Hongyadong, I decided to stay and watch the luggage instead of going in. Guo Feng didn't find it fun to go alone, and she wasn't feeling well anyway, so she came out soon.
Since the taxi driver had mentioned that Chongqing's narrow roads and many one-way streets cause serious traffic jams during rush hour, we took a taxi to Beichuan Airport at 4 PM to avoid traffic. We arrived at the airport at 5 PM, and our flight was at 8:30 PM. We spent the last three hours of the trip at a buffet restaurant. At 10:30 PM, the plane landed at Guangzhou Baiyun Airport, marking the true end of our journey.
This trip had its hardships and surprises, but overall it was very worthwhile. This spontaneous journey started in Chengdu and ended in Chongqing, allowing me to witness nature's incredible craftsmanship and also experience the different characters of each city. If there's a regret, it's that I didn't stay longer at Five Flower Lake. But regrets fuel future trips. The beauty of Jiuzhaigou is something you could admire a thousand times and still not get enough. Next time, I'll definitely fly directly to Jiuhuang Airport and never endure that 8-hour 'bumpy ride' again!
