While Zhongdian in China won the bid to call itself “Shangri-La” in 2001, Lijiang to the south continues to draw stressed out-of-towners with its picturesque scenery, welcoming locals and slow pace of life. We experience the city alongside the comforts of the Amandayan.
A gentle breeze rustles through the Chinese crab apple trees that surround Wenchang Palace in the Old Town of Lijiang, a Unesco World Heritage Site. Dappled sunlight filters through the leaves, casting long shadows around us on the cobblestoned courtyard as we take our time to soak in the architecture of the 18th-century temple.
We’re just about finished with a tour of the Amandayan, a five-star luxury hotel tucked in the mountainous city of northwestern Yunnan, China. The historic temple is, in fact, a part of its sprawling grounds, so the hospitality providers now play custodian to the storied building, ensuring its upkeep and preservation even to non-hotel guests. Today, it is free of crowds and utterly peaceful. Up here on Lion Hill, the mount on which Amandayan and Wenchang Palace stand, I feel like I am in a sanctuary in the clouds.
It is easy to forget that I am in one of China’s most popular tourist destinations – between January and July last year, Lijiang received over 44.5 million tourists, most of whom were locals.
At a pavilion overlooking the Old Town, I can imagine witnessing scores of travellers wending their way through cobblestone alleyways beneath riotously coloured sloping tiled roofs. There are quaint bridges – some 300 in all – to carry them across gurgling steams, along with pops of magenta and pink from perennial blooms like bougainvillea and camellia as a result of Lijiang’s moderate weather (it only goes as low as 13°C in winter).
The panorama of the 800-year-old Dayan village below is peerless, though almost man-made in its perfection – as many of the buildings were rebuilt after a devasting earthquake in 1996. But to me, and I daresay many a weary soul, it can be – is – home, even if just for a short trip.
In the three villages of Dayan, Shuhe and Baisha that make up Lijiang’s Old Town, there is a palpable joy, pulsating from the locals, tourists and migrants from other cities. At Shuhe, we chat with one of these transplants at a cafe.
Shanghai-born Chen Huiqi, 37, visited Lijiang in 2019 to heal her broken heart after a divorce. After China started easing domestic Covid restrictions, she moved to Shuhe, where she is now a long-stay guest at a homestay. The former marketing director shares, “I love the slower pace of life here. I have the time and space to focus on what makes me happy.” Much of her time is spent hiking in the nearby hills, with the remainder going toward planning for a future cafe in her new home.
It is unclear how many Chinese from other provinces are staying in Lijiang. “They usually sell or rent out their houses in their registered cities and stay in Lijiang a few months out of a year, but they don’t change their hukou status,” explains Marvel Wu, the hotel manager of Amandayan and a Lijiang local. “They say that the quality of life here is good because of the fresh air, good produce, moderate weather and beautiful scenery.”
According to Chen, the fact that the Naxis, the largest ethnic minority group here, are welcoming of foreigners, also makes the move easy for out-of-towners. “I find their attitude to life inspiring,” she adds. “They live simply, and are happy as long as they have their customs and family around them.”
I see Naxi hospitality and their way of life for myself the next day, when my local tour guide takes me to lunch at the house of 55 year-old He Xiao Yuan, one of an estimated 800 people who knows Dongba, an ancient form of Naxi handwriting. His family lives in a 330-year-old cluster of stone houses in Shuhe. Since 1993, the provincial government has appointed He’s family as the official custodian of the Dongba dance.
During the performance, he shakes a rattle while mimicking the movements of a cricket. His uncle croaks and hops around like a frog with a nimbleness that belies his 71 years. After a while, both men dressed in ox-blood tunics and vests made from yak fur, sheep fleece bonnets on their heads, forget that they are performing for a guest. They correct each other’s moves, joking and laughing.
Lunch, prepared by He’s family, is simple in presentation but hearty in taste. Crumbled homemade tofu is served with chopped scallion, herbs and crushed peppercorns scalded with a splash of hot fragrant chicken broth. There are also stir-fried pork with indigenous mountain fronds and smoked blood sausages made according to a “secret family recipe”.
Most of the ingredients are grown, foraged or raised free-range locally. The people live off the land. The water used is melted spring water from the snow-capped peaks of the nearby mountains. Everything tastes fresh and delicious. “The living conditions here keep one healthy,” I say to my guide, as I think of He’s family matriarch who had lived to 106. She looks at me earnestly, “Do you want to move here, too?”
Yunnan has long been associated with paradise. In 2001, the town of Zhongdian was designated the official Shangri-La, the utopia mentioned in James Hilton’s 1933 novel Lost Horizon. However, my guide believes that Lijiang was Hilton’s inspiration: “Hilton had read Joseph Rock’s writings about the flora and fauna in Lijiang, and the Naxis probably seemed very fascinating to a Westerner.” Joseph Rock was an Austrian- American botanist who hunted plants in Yunnan in the 1920s and ‘30s and made Lijiang his base. Whether Lijiang or Zhongdian is the inspiration for Hilton, no one knows for sure. The ties formed between Zhongdian and Lijiang since the days of the Tea Horse Road, a 3,000km network carved out by the Tibetans and Chinese to transport tea around Asia and beyond, are too strong for petty rivalry.
Besides, Lijiang doesn’t need the ‘Shangri-La’ label for marketing. It is home to a few spectacular attractions. Besides the Old Town, there is another Unesco World Heritage site: Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, a 35km long mountain range with 13 peaks. The sight of the massif unfurling around glaciers, alpine lakes and forests for miles on end – not unlike a mythical dragon – is unforgettable.
As I retire to the comfort of the Amandayan’s spa, I reflect on the lessons I’ve learnt during my sojourn even as a mugwort soak soothes my rattled nerves (from the crowds jostling at the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain).
While I cannot move here like Chen Huiqi, I am grateful for the chance to be reminded of what’s waiting out there – and, for that matter, what truly matters in life.
My musings come to a close with a Naxi hotpot dinner at Man Xi Yuan, the hotel’s restaurant. A simple nourishing Naxi hot pot with waxed pork ribs, a local speciality, and seasonal vegetables is just the thing – the only thing – one needs on a frosty evening.
(Images: Amandayan)
Editor-At-Large
Mavis Teo is an editor-at-large at Prestige Singapore where she focuses on travel, arts and culture, and personality profiles. A regular contributor to South China Morning Post, DestinAsian, The Straits ..Read More
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