I finally fulfilled my wish to visit Jiuzhaigou
This trip was decided hastily after a drinking session, so much so that when I woke up the next morning, I wondered if I had just been joking. But regardless, it felt a bit like 'wine reveals the truth.' I've always been stuck in this southern city, and although I had thoughts of getting out, they were搁浅ed by all sorts of unfounded reasons. My friend was right—don't make excuses; just do what you want. If you deny your own thoughts today, you might never have any ideas again 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 appeared before us. I thought it would make my eyes light up, but instead, it felt a bit like old Changsha. It was already 10:30 a.m., and the sky was still gray; it seemed there was some 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 main entrance of Kuanzhai Alley. As soon as we got out of the car, an old hotpot restaurant appeared right in front of us. We were already starving, and the aroma of hotpot wafting all around led us straight into the restaurant by our noses.
But to be honest, the hotpot wasn't as delicious as I had imagined. Even though we were hungry and ordered a full table, it didn't leave us wanting more. Maybe we didn't get the most authentic one. Next time, I'll be sure to search online for the best place! After eating and drinking our fill, we started strolling through the alley. At the beginning, there was a row of snack stalls, with all sorts of snacks neatly displayed, their fragrances mingling—red chili peppers, green cilantro, yellow sesame oil... an ingenious combination that was very pleasing to the eye. On both sides of the road were rows of dazzling small shops, decorated in a folk style, with goods in every color imaginable.
Kuanzhai Alley has a wide part (Kuan Alley) and a narrow part (Zhai Alley). Although it's called the 'wide alley,' it couldn't handle the large number of visitors, and we slowly moved forward 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 simple design combined with ancient architecture of Kuanzhai Alley, Jinli has a more ethnic flavor. All the buildings are antique, and the goods sold also focus on ethnic culture. However, the common point between them is that everywhere you look is colorful. Perhaps due to generations of heritage, Chengdu people seem to be good at color matching—whether it's food, clothing, or daily items, everything is a bright hue, not jarring but beautiful.
We visited both attractions from noon until about 5 p.m. After dinner, we bought some snacks for the next few days and returned to the hotel to rest. The hotel we stayed in that night deserves a special mention.
Location: The hotel is right inside Kuanzhai Alley, known as 'Chengdu's living room.'
Metro: The entrance of Kuanzhai Alley is right at Metro Line 4.
Geographical location: The location is absolutely fantastic! It's inside the Kuanzhai Alley scenic area, so you can just step out and start eating and shopping—very convenient. It's not far from Chunxi Road, Taikoo Li, Tianfu Square, etc. You can take the metro or a taxi; if you take a taxi, it's about 10 yuan.
Hotel style: The overall style of this guesthouse is exactly what I like. The room design leans towards Japanese style, built entirely from pure wood. The room has a unique, pleasant fragrance that feels very soothing. There's also hand-embroidered Shu embroidery in the room, and a painting of a wren specially painted by a master artist.
The hotel has many calligraphy, paintings, and antiques, which the owner painstakingly collected. Every detail is thoughtful and impeccable.
Room: The door uses an electronic lock, so security is guaranteed. The entire room, including decorations and bed, is made of phoenix tree wood, giving off a faint woody scent that is very relaxing.
There's a dedicated dining area in the room, and the lunch and dinner are quite delicious.
Bathroom: Whenever I travel, whether staying in a hotel or a guesthouse, the bathroom is always my top concern. Its cleanliness definitely affects my mood. The bathroom at the Wren Inn gets full marks from me! Every detail shows understated luxury. It's a five-star deluxe configuration: Carnation brand linens, King Koil mattress, Kohler bathroom fixtures, TOTO smart toilet—even turning on the faucet makes you feel the owner's thoughtfulness.
Wash area: Worth mentioning is that the wash area is separated into wet and dry areas. You can take a shower or lie in the bathtub; the hotel also provides bath salts.
The three-piece amenities set is from June Jacobs (a high-end spa skincare brand from New York, USA). I had used this brand before at a Sheraton in Guangdong and loved it. I didn't expect to use it again in Chengdu. According to the butler, June Jacobs customized a special treatment for the hotel, combining local culture, environment, climate, and some traditional Chinese medical therapies to create the hotel's unique 'Wren Nest in the Forest.'
Bedding: Lying down was incredibly comfortable; I fell asleep in no time. The quilt and mattress were very soft and skin-friendly. I like buckwheat pillows, and the hotel thoughtfully provided one.
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. Along the way, they introduced the culture of Kuanzhai Alley, which alone made me feel very positive about the hotel. After arriving at the hotel, the butler learned that I can't eat spicy food, so they specially prepared non-spicy wontons for my breakfast.
To avoid booking hotels and attraction tickets separately, we booked a three-day, two-night tour package from Chengdu to Huanglong and Jiuzhaigou for the 25th to the 27th. Looking back, this was a very wise decision. With a guide handling our meals, accommodation, and transportation along the way, it saved us a lot of worry. Since the bus departed at 5:30 a.m., we woke up at 4 a.m. the next day. Half-asleep, we packed up and waited in the hotel lobby for the pick-up car. This is one of the benefits of a tour group—you don't have to arrange transportation yourself. Chengdu is 8-9 hours by car from Huanglong and Jiuzhaigou. To ensure we could visit Huanglong on the same day, tour groups usually depart very early, so you definitely don't get enough sleep. After getting on the bus and listening to the guide's lengthy introduction and instructions, most of us dozed off. Until around 7-8 a.m., when the sky was just getting light, the guide started chattering again. Since we hadn't eaten much in the morning, the fatigue of the journey, coupled with the guide's droning about the Wenchuan earthquake and how many people died, made my stomach churn. I really wanted to shout 'Shut up!' but I didn't have the courage to offend the person who would be managing my life for the next few days. Motion sickness medicine is really important for such long bus rides! Fortunately, we stopped at a rest point, and I got off to get some fresh air, which saved me from vomiting. The restrooms at the stops along the way were run by local residents, so they charged 1 yuan each, and the conditions were pretty disgusting—I don't want to recall them. At noon, we arrived at a hotel for lunch, or rather, just a quick refuel. The guide had already warned us about the food. I don't have high expectations for meals, but even I thought it was bad—it was really terrible. But we had no choice; when you're under someone else'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 lunch, we set off immediately, winding up S-shaped mountain roads. The peaks on both sides became steeper, and the colors of the vegetation grew richer, giving the illusion that we were about to enter a paradise. But the constant swaying of the bus kept pulling us back to reality. We kept going like this until around 2 p.m., when we finally reached the nearest medical service station to Huanglong Scenic Area. After the bus stopped, a staff member came on board to explain some things about visiting the scenic area and precautions against altitude sickness. We hadn't done much research on altitude sickness beforehand; we just bought a box of Rhodiola rosea capsules. Little did I know that these capsules need to be taken a week in advance; taking them on the spot wouldn't help much. No choice—for the sake of our health, and since I was starting to feel a bit short of breath and tightness in my chest, I bought a box with tears in my eyes. I must emphasize here: altitude sickness is not to be taken lightly. If you plan to travel to high-altitude places, be sure to prepare in advance—whether by taking medicine beforehand or buying an oral solution to drink on the spot. It's much cheaper outside the scenic area. If you really don't have any preparation, don't risk it just to save a few dollars. Good health is the foundation of everything. Shortly after taking the medicine, the bus drove to the entrance of Huanglong Scenic Area, but it didn't stop. It continued along the long line of tourists without end, with the queue stretching back three or four hundred meters—longer than the queues I've seen at Chimelong during peak season! My heart sank; how long would we have to wait?! The guide was also a bit anxious and urged us to get off and start queuing before the bus even reached the end of the line. As soon as I got off, a chill hit me. We were now at an altitude of about 3,200 meters. Although the sun was shining brightly, the temperature was quite low, so I instinctively pulled my coat tighter.
The entrance to the scenic area is built in a valley between two mountains that aren't very wide apart. Looking up, the blue sky and white clouds looked like a narrow, beautiful oil painting perched on the mountain peaks. To the right of the queue was a small stream, babbling along, clear and melodious. I don't know when it started, but every scene that came into view turned into a beautiful picture—perhaps that's the charm of this place. After waiting in line for about 40 minutes, we got on the cable car up the mountain. Probably because they receive many visitors every day, the cable car runs relatively fast. I'd advise people with a fear of heights to keep their eyes closed—it's really exciting! As the cable car ascended, our view gradually broke free from the valley's confines, filled instead by distant high mountains. Whether from the rapid ascent or the sight of the majestic peaks, my heart started beating faster and faster. But this feeling quickly disappeared once we reached the top—to be honest, I was left wanting more.
After getting off the cable car, we walked along the boardwalk, enjoying the primitive forest scenery. The boardwalk, which generally goes in one direction, is a common feature of scenic areas here—it protects the landscape from damage and also ensures visitor safety. Huanglong doesn't have many attractions; the main one we wanted to see 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 there. At first, we were captivated by some tall or oddly shaped trees, but as time passed and our energy waned, such sights no longer held our attention. Plus, Guo Feng started experiencing altitude sickness, making the walk even harder. After stopping and starting for about a third of the way, we reached the first observation deck, where I saw snow-capped mountains firsthand for the first time. The towering peaks rose into the clouds, and the snow on them sparkled even more brilliantly against the blue sky. White clouds lingered at the mountain tops, reluctant to leave, and sunlight poured through the thick clouds like a divine light—truly magnificent. I had seen snowy mountains in movies, TV shows, and novels before, especially Changbai Mountain in 'The Lost Tomb.' Although it was shocking to read about, I couldn't fully grasp its grandeur. Now, seeing it with my own eyes, I understood more deeply, and a desire to visit Changbai Mountain arose in my heart.
After admiring the view for a few minutes, we continued along the boardwalk toward the attraction closer to the snowy mountains—the Five-Color Pond at Huanglong (I emphasize Huanglong because Jiuzhaigou also has a Five-Color Pond). This section was even more difficult. Guo Feng's altitude sickness worsened. Fortunately, I had bought a bottle of oxygen while queuing, or I'd worry she might faint. She had to take a puff every few steps, looking like a high-risk patient. My arm naturally became her solid support. Clacking along in her high-heeled boots, she attracted the attention and amazed looks of those around her, though her face showed helplessness. I think her inner self was screaming. Around two-thirds of the way along the boardwalk, it started to go uphill, and I began to feel short of breath too, but it was similar to climbing the 8 floors to my apartment at home. I suddenly felt grateful for living on the 8th floor—it allowed me to breathe normally at 3,500 meters. All that discomfort vanished the moment I saw the Five-Color Pond. Huanglong's Five-Color Pond consists of more than ten pools of various sizes, each like a palette, independent yet complementing one another. The colors are mainly green, blue, and yellow, interspersed with other hues. Looking at it, it's like a fine painting displayed between heaven and earth, beautiful enough to make you intoxicated. The snowy mountain stood majestically at the end of the valley, like a solemn and loyal guard, protecting this sacred land for thousands of years. How much Nature must favor this place to give it such beauty! If only I could lie by the Five-Color Pond, close my eyes, and soak in its tranquility... But the pond was surrounded by people as solid as a city wall; we couldn't squeeze in. Sigh, that's the common phenomenon at popular scenic spots. I struggled to stand on tiptoe to take a few photos, then reluctantly headed back down the mountain.
It's true that ascending is easier than descending. Going up, you have excitement to sustain you; going down relies entirely on willpower. The boardwalk downhill passed a few other attractions, but none were as beautiful as the Five-Color Pond, and time was limited, so we trudged along in silence. Guo Feng's 'double height' (altitude sickness plus high heels) had completely drained her usual fighting spirit. I supported her as she limped down. It was already getting dark, and we had passed the meeting time set by the guide, so I started to worry. If I had the strength, I would have picked her up and run down. We finally emerged from the scenic area gate around 6:40 p.m., on the verge of collapse. The simple downhill walk had taken us nearly 2 hours. All I wanted now was to take a shower and sleep! But we weren't the last ones down; two other groups from our tour hadn't come down yet, including a group of six elderly people. These were six old folks from Shenyang, chatting and laughing the whole way, showing no signs that their average age was 60. Sometimes, looking at them, I wondered if I would be able to walk such a tough road when I'm that old. Would I have friends willing to accompany me to see the great rivers and mountains of our country? Thinking about that, I felt a bit sad. We waited in the bus for about half an hour, and finally they came down. One of the elderly ladies had severe altitude sickness and was vomiting badly. At such an age, climbing Huanglong with a maximum altitude of 3,700 meters is truly admirable! But I also worry for them. There was supposed to be a complimentary show ticket at 8 p.m., but because we had wasted so much time on the mountain and everyone was tired, we unanimously decided to cancel it. We stayed that night in Chuanzhusi, at an altitude of about 3,000 meters. As soon as I got off the bus at the hotel, I felt the deep cold of this place. My teeth started chattering, and my feet trembled involuntarily. After an unappetizing dinner, we returned to our rooms to rest. Since we had gone directly from Chengdu at 500 meters to over 3,000 meters that day, the guide specially advised us not to 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 was over, but my companion's altitude sickness didn't disappear just because we descended.
At around 1 a.m., I was awakened by heavy breathing and light. Guo Feng was sitting weakly on the bed, looking pained, saying her chest felt like it was crushed by stones and she couldn't breathe. I got up, boiled some water, and prepared the Rhodiola rosea capsules we had brought. I didn't want to drink the local water initially—the guide had said that although it's clear, it's rich in minerals and not suitable for drinking; it could cause kidney stones. But we had no choice; the bottled water we bought earlier was gone. When the water boiled, Guo Feng took a sip and felt a burning sensation in her throat. Eventually, she took the medicine with cold bottled water. We were up and about for a while, and I lost all sleepiness, but Guo Feng showed no improvement. She said she still felt terrible and wanted to call the guide. I hesitated—it was late at night, and calling someone up seemed rude. But seeing that the medicine didn't help, I had no choice but to dial the guide's number. However, the phone, which was supposed to be on 24/7, was turned off. I tried two or three times, and it was the same. My heart sank again. Guo Feng suggested finding the hotel front desk to see which room the guide was in. Thinking of the cold, quiet night outside, I was quite scared, but seeing Guo Feng's suffering, I gritted my teeth and went out. We were on the third floor. Before closing the door, I looked around and saw no one. Well, it was the middle of the night, freezing cold—who would be out there? The hotel was laid out in a square shape, so we could see the entire corridor at a glance. Because it was enclosed, there was a distinct echo. 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 very dim, a mix of yellowish and pale white. I had to turn on my phone's flashlight to see where I was going, creating multiple light sources and several shadows. Every step I took, I kept looking around. My peripheral vision would catch glimpses of the shadows on either side of me. I knew it was just my own shadow, but I couldn't help imagining all sorts of things—the atmosphere was terrifying! Trembling with fear, I reached the first floor. I thought I'd finally see someone at the front desk, but to my surprise, it was empty, and the hotel's main door was wide open. That sent a chill down my spine. Earlier, even though I was scared, I kept thinking there would be someone at the front desk. If something happened, I could scream for attention. But now, I was certain I was alone in this vast, silent environment. My heart beat faster, and horror movie scenes started playing on repeat in my head. I wished I could teleport back to my room! I considered going outside to buy some medicine, but through the glass wall, I saw nothing but a pitch-black abyss, like a gaping mouth waiting for me to walk in. I immediately gave up that idea. I looked around the front desk for a contact number but didn't find one, so I turned and quickly walked back. Strange—the more scared you are, the more you try to act calm, thinking that makes you less vulnerable. Looking back, it was just a form of self-reassurance. If someone were lurking in the dark, they'd only care if you have money or not, whether you're good-looking or not—who cares if you're calm or panicked? After what felt like an eternity of fear, I finally returned to my room. Only when I confirmed the door was closed did my heart finally settle. Fortunately, Guo Feng had vomited right after I left and was now feeling much better. I checked the time—it was 3 a.m. If we had to get up at 5 a.m., we still had two hours to rest. So I quickly got into bed, and within two minutes, I was sound asleep.
At 5 a.m., the familiar yet annoying alarm went off. I struggled for a few minutes, then reluctantly left the warm bed. The 26th was the most important stop of this trip—Jiuzhaigou, the fairy tale world. We had an entire day to enjoy the scenery. Guo Feng's physical strength had mostly recovered—thank goodness! Otherwise, if it were like yesterday, this trip would have been a waste. The weather that day was rather gloomy, with dark clouds over the mountain tops; a heavy rain seemed inevitable. I really missed yesterday's weather at Huanglong! But we had raincoats and umbrellas—even if it hailed, it wouldn't stop us from seeing the beautiful sights! While waiting to pick up tickets, I noticed a father and daughter from our tour group. Guo Feng had mentioned them—when she was carsick on the bus, the uncle had handed her tissues. He seemed very gentle and refined. Now seeing him up close, I couldn't help but pay more attention. The uncle had some gray hair but looked very spirited, wearing glasses. Whenever he met someone's eyes, he would smile. He was indeed a warm person. His daughter looked very young, about 20 years old, with a delicate appearance. She smiled just as warmly as her father. These days, seeing someone so old still traveling alone with their father is rare. I felt a bit moved, but when I discussed the possible reason with Guo Feng, she offered a less heartwarming explanation—maybe her mother had passed away. That thought saddened me.
As I was thinking and walking, the main entrance of Jiuzhaigou came into view. The entrance gate was much wider than Huanglong's, and there was no need for a cable car, so the queue moved relatively quickly. While queuing for the sightseeing bus, it started to drizzle, and soon it was pouring. We had to put on our raincoats. At that moment, I could have slapped myself—I had left the raincoat I bought in the suitcase on the bus, not in my small bag. Now I only had a cheap flimsy raincoat, the kind you pull over your head. Looking at my body, which looked like a steamed bun, millions of alpacas were galloping in my heart. I wanted to tear that raincoat to shreds. But rationality won over impulse; I took out my umbrella and put the raincoat over my small bag. Then I joined the queue waiting for the sightseeing bus. Jiuzhaigou has three developed valleys, each of different lengths. The longest requires over half an hour by sightseeing bus to reach the end; the shortest takes 10-20 minutes. Walking is impossible unless you can spend three days here. The mode of sightseeing relies on 600+ sightseeing buses constantly shuttling. The intersection of the three valleys is the only visitor service center and the only smoking area. All sightseeing buses are dispatched from here to decide which valley to visit first. Once decided, the bus drives along the road to the highest point of each valley, and visitors then walk back along the boardwalk. Attractions far apart allow for boarding and alighting, so we could hop on a bus to the next stop after visiting one. We first visited Rize Valley. Following the guide's advice, we didn't go all the way to the primeval forest at the highest point but got off at Arrow Bamboo Lake. Actually, on the bus, the guide briefly introduced the origins and legends of each attraction, and we had already glimpsed the picturesque scenery. But when we finally got off and walked into this fairy tale world ourselves, we were deeply awestruck. These various-sized lakes are called 'haizi' (seas) here, each with its own legend and characteristics. Arrow Bamboo Lake came into view first. Since it was the innermost lake in the valley, it had a deeper, more serene quality compared to the outer ones. The water surface wasn't very wide, and there were many reed-like plants along the shore. Because it had just rained, the plants along the boardwalk were adorned with glistening dewdrops. When the wind blew, they fell onto the water, creating ripples.
Continuing down the boardwalk, we reached Panda Lake. It got its name because the water surface's colors, black and green, resemble a giant panda. Panda Lake is much wider than Arrow Bamboo Lake, with no aquatic plants on the surface, as calm as a mirror. The rain had stopped by now, and the sky above was filled with blue sky and white clouds, reflected on the water, making the lake even more serene and blue.
When one's vision is fully satisfied, taste becomes unimportant. We had breakfast at 6 a.m. and then drove to Jiuzhaigou, visiting from 8 a.m. to 12 p.m. before our stomachs signaled hunger. So we had a simple snack at the Panda Lake rest area and then took the bus to one of Jiuzhaigou's highlights—Five Flower Lake.
If the lakes of Jiuzhaigou are Nature's masterpieces, then Five Flower Lake is Nature's divine creation! Seeing her, all the hardships of the past few days became worth it—whether it was the 7-8 hour bus ride or the aching from going up and down the mountains. Her beauty can heal everything. It's a beauty that intoxicates you, impossible to describe in words, a beauty that makes people willingly endure all kinds of hardships to find. Those who see her 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, too overwhelmed to absorb it all in such a short time; they forget all their worries, with every corner of their hearts filled with her image. I've always dreamed of beautiful scenery, but I never dreamed of Five Flower Lake's beauty even in my wildest dreams. Unfortunately, the lake was surrounded by people reluctant to leave. With reluctance, we took one step at a time, looking back, and left this wonderland, but our hearts were not at peace for a long time.
Further down from Five Flower Lake is Pearl Shoal Waterfall. The waterfall's grandeur can't compare with big waterfalls elsewhere, but this piece of white in the specific landscape is unique. Plus, this waterfall was a filming location for the 1986 version of 'Journey to the West,' so it still attracted many people taking photos.
Continuing down from the waterfall is Mirror Lake. But with the brilliance of Five Flower Lake before it, other lakes lost some of their charm. Further down, we returned to Nuorilang Visitor Center. We took a short break here before continuing by bus to the next valley—Zechawa Valley. This valley is the longest of the three, but it has relatively few attractions—only four. We decided to visit just the two furthest ones—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 lake of all the haizi in Jiuzhaigou. Because of its high altitude and location at the foot of snowy mountains, its water volume is stable in every season and supplies water to other lakes. Standing on the observation deck and looking down, a pure blue filled our vision. Although there were blue skies and white clouds above, the lake didn't reflect them; instead, it absorbed the sky's blue deeply into itself. Through the ripples occasionally stirred by the gentle wind, it playfully captured the gazes of visitors. The snow-capped mountains stood majestically at the far end of Long Lake, selflessly offering their love and guardianship. If Long Lake is the mother, then the distant snowy mountains are the father. At the lower observation deck of Long Lake, there is a magical pine tree with branches growing in one direction, like an old butler quietly welcoming distant guests. The boardwalk from Long Lake to the Five-Color Pond is the steepest section in Jiuzhaigou. By now, my calves and right knee were starting to ache—whether from walking too much these days or catching a chill, this section was also a bit difficult. Just when Guo Feng's altitude sickness had eased, my knee started acting up. Ah, indeed, visual enjoyment comes at a cost.
Descending from Long Lake, we reached the second highlight of Jiuzhaigou—Five-Color Pond. Jiuzhaigou's Five-Color Pond is different from Huanglong's; it's a single, smaller pool but has another color that other lakes lack. Besides the crystal-clear green, there is a special fluorescent green. Whether due to light refraction or unique minerals in the pond, this interplay of depth and shallowness, motion and stillness, gives Five-Color Pond a breathtaking beauty. Because it's small, the lake was even more surrounded by crowds, making it hard to get close. With difficulty, I used a selfie stick to take a full view, but the photo was still full of other people's phone screens. It seems that when it comes to great beauty, everyone's aesthetic is the same.
After leaving Five-Color Pond, we took a sightseeing bus directly out of the valley. It was already 3:30 p.m. when we reached Nuorilang Visitor Center. The guide had set a meeting time of 5:30 p.m., so we had only two hours left, and we still hadn't visited Shuzheng Valley, which runs toward the exit. So we didn't rest and directly boarded the bus. Fortunately, the highlights of Jiuzhaigou were already deeply etched in our minds. We made brief stops at Rhinoceros Lake, Spark Lake, and Bonsai Shoal before directly exiting the scenic area. This time, we came out relatively early and reached the bus at 5 p.m. The sky in Jiuzhaigou had already started to darken. This day was really tiring, but it was also the kind of tiredness that comes with joy. Interestingly, the young couple sitting next to me seemed to have had a quarrel for some reason. The woman looked very angry, and no matter how the man tried to appease her, it was useless. Every time he put his hand on her, she would shake it off coldly. It was a bit awkward, but I also felt like laughing. Before this, they would chatter non-stop from the moment they got on the bus until they got off, but now they were completely silent. I didn't pay much attention, and soon I dozed off. When I opened my eyes, the bus was empty. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming or that something supernatural had happened. Though a bit alarmed, I knew staying calm was the key to solving anything, so I remained seated expressionless. Until Guo Feng came to fetch me, I learned that an hour had passed since we boarded the bus. It turned out that one of the arranged activities on the itinerary was visiting a Tibetan family home. Everyone had already gotten off, but because I was sleeping, I didn't hear the bus stop or the guide's voice. I even impressed myself for sleeping through all that noise! But I was too tired, so I told Guo Feng to go by herself while I stayed in the bus to rest and wait for their return. I waited for about an hour before they came back, and with that, the day's itinerary came to an end.
On the morning of the 27th, we still got up at 5 a.m. and departed at 6:30 a.m. Since it was the last day of returning to Chengdu, I felt a little reluctant. Even so, we went to three attractions in the morning that were supposedly about learning about ethnic minority cultures but were actually shopping stops: a silver jewelry shop, a specialty supermarket, and a silk product store. Although they had commercial overtones, we still learned a lot about ethnic customs and cultures, which was another kind of gain.
As we got back on the bus from the silver shop, I noticed that the young couple next to me had made up again, returning to their usual chatter. The woman now had a silver bracelet on her wrist. So shopping is indeed the best way to appease a woman! Starting at 2 p.m. from the silk culture center in Chuanzhusi, we began our 8-hour return journey. The bus first had to cross a snowy 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 even though I wanted to sleep, I couldn't bear to close my eyes. Despite the reluctance in my heart, the blue sky, white clouds, and towering mountains gradually receded before my eyes. The bus wound upward, and the town of Chuanzhusi at the foot of the mountain grew smaller and smaller. When we reached the highest point, I looked out the window and saw the continuous snowy mountains appearing right before me. Unlike previous views that seemed unattainable and untouchable, these snowy mountains felt 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 might break through the guardrail and drive straight into the snowy mountains. I wondered if there were bronze doors and Zhang Qiling inside? The majestic snowy mountains were just too beautiful and spectacular! I couldn't believe we got to enjoy such scenery on the last day. One word: worth it! Unfortunately, I was on the bus and didn't have time to take photos. After descending the snowy mountain, the scenery became ordinary again, like falling from heaven to earth, and I finally allowed myself to sleep. The journey out of the mountains felt unbearably long because there was nothing to look forward to. Every time I dozed off, I'd wake up to find only a few minutes had passed—time seemed to stand still. The only thing to be grateful for was that I didn't feel carsick at all; perhaps I had gotten used to the constant swaying over the past few days. I won't go into the tiring details. After six hours of bumpy ride, we finally started to see signs of the city. Oh my god! We were finally out of the mountains! The bus stopped at Jinniuba Road on the Third Ring Road of Chengdu, and our tour group journey came to an end. Our tour guide had many shortcomings, especially on the night when Guo Feng had altitude sickness, but she was also conscientious in her duties, so I was still very grateful to her. After getting off the bus, we planned to take a taxi to the hotel we had booked. However, the road to the hotel was blocked, so we had to rebook a hotel near the drop-off point. After checking in, it was already after 11 p.m. We were so hungry that we had to go to a nearby McDonald's for a burger. We didn't get to sleep until 12:30 a.m.
That sleep was incredibly comfortable. When the alarm went off at 7 a.m. the next morning, I thought I was dreaming. Since our last day's plan was to go to Chongqing, and we had bought bullet train tickets for 10:50 a.m., I didn't dare sleep in. After washing up, I hurried out. By 10 a.m., we arrived at Chengdu East Station, picked up our tickets, took one last look at Chengdu, and then plunged into the waiting room. On the bullet train, I kept reminiscing about every detail of this trip, so much so that I didn't even enjoy the scenery along the way. Before I knew it, we arrived in the mountain city—Chongqing. The 'mountain city' name is indeed well-deserved. Looking out the taxi window, I could see buildings as tall as mountains everywhere. The roads were winding and narrow. The car would go up a slope every few meters, and the slopes were not gentle. Even in the city center, I could see low hills, so the greening rate is very high. Mountain city: the mountain comes first, the city second. It's not the mountain adapting to the city's development, but the city yielding to the mountain's immovable nature. The taxi driver recommended a decent pea and noodle restaurant near Chongqing's Liberation Monument, which he said had been featured on many TV shows. Since it was close to Hongya Cave, we stopped by to try it. To be honest, it was okay. I don't know why, but as soon as I got off the bullet train, I felt an inexplicable dislike for this city—not even half the fondness I had for Chengdu. Maybe I felt that people in Chongqing were relatively cold. After eating, we didn't know where to go with our luggage. Dragging suitcases around attractions is really not a wise choice—too many people, and it feels awkward. So when we reached the entrance of Hongya Cave, I decided to stay and watch the luggage instead of going in. Without me, Guo Feng found it boring to explore alone, and she wasn't feeling well, so she came out soon after.
Since the taxi driver earlier had mentioned that Chongqing's roads are narrow with many one-way streets, traffic jams during peak hours are severe. To avoid traffic, we took a taxi to Beichuan Airport at 4 p.m. and arrived at the airport by 5 p.m. Our flight was at 8:30 p.m., so we spent the last three hours of the trip at a buffet restaurant. At 10:30 p.m., our plane landed at Guangzhou Baiyun Airport, and our journey truly came to an end.
This trip had its hardships and surprises, but 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 also feel the different characters of each city. If there's any regret, it's that I didn't stay longer at Five Flower Lake. But regret is the motivation for the next time. The beauty of Jiuzhaigou is such that even seeing it a thousand times wouldn't be enough. However, next time, I must fly directly to Jiuhuang Airport and not suffer through the 8-hour 'bumpy' journey again.
