Lìjiang, in the north-west of China's Yúnnán province bordering Tibet, is set on a beautiful plateau dominated by lush vegetation.
This intimate mountain town, about 2 600m above sea level, is surrounded by green peaks and fed by the Jinsha River. But what makes it a must-see for visitors venturing beyond the traditional tourist routes of the Great Wall of China, Beijing and Shanghai, is its colourful and fascinating rugged mountain people from the Naxi Lisu, Pumi, Nuosu Yi and Tibetan tribes.
We travel to Lìjiang from Kunmíng via Dàlí on the night bus. This in itself is an adventure. The bus smells strongly of sweat and is so full of packages that we cannot reach our beds unless we stand on the bundles.
Each bunk is 1,7m long, which is fine if you are Chinese but very difficult if you are a guilao (foreigner) the height of my husband (1,8m). I swap with him, as my bed is longer, but we have to move quickly as there is a woman on the bus who tells me "she can want my bed".
I am not obliging. All night we trundle along jerky roads, stopping at toilets without walls, while people hack and spit on the luggage below.
We arrive in Lìjiang in the pitch darkness, and are immediately whisked away by a taxi driver. We think he is taking us to the address indicated on our hotel's business card. Needless to say, he is not, although we only find that out later.
Met by a woman in a white nightdress shivering in the morning light, we are too tired to negotiate the cost of the room in the hotel we never learn the name of.
Lìjiang is a town of two parts, the starkly different old and new towns. Everything west of Lion Hill is new, everything east old.
As tourists, you'll be happier in the delightful twisting maze of cobbled streets laced with swift canals, a sharp contrast to the modern streets of the new town where unfortunately our first hotel was situated.
The main landmark of the old town is the wooden waterwheels rotating from one of Lìjiang's three tributaries, the gushing water forming white cascading sheets.
Just nearby and along different sections of the streams are the goldfish sellers. Purchase a goldfish, then release it for good luck. All along the streets are alleyways, bridges and archways to confuse even the most refined sense of direction.
The market square, however, is easy enough to find, and the place to catch a glimpse of the Naxi women in traditional dress - wide-sleeved loose gowns, with jackets and long trousers, tied with richly decorated belts at the waist.
Sometimes, they wear sheepskin slung over the shoulder embroidered with seven stars and sun and moon symbols, one on each side. This costume reflects the Naxi's admiration for diligence.
It is expected they should rise early to work and not stop until late in the evening.
The Naxi are descended from Tibetan nomads, and until recently only traced descent through the female line. Love affairs were arranged on a fairly flexible basis, called the azhu system.
Couples could become lovers without setting up joint households, with the men spending the night with their girlfriends but returning to their mothers' houses during the day.
Any offspring were raised by their mothers and supported by their fathers only for the duration of the romantic relationship.
Linguistically, the matriarchal influence on the Naxi is also strong. When the word for "female" is added to a word it increases in meaning, and when the word "male" is added, the meaning is decreased. For example "stone" plus "male" means "pebble", but "stone" plus "female" means "boulder".
Over time, Lìjiang has survived numerous earthquakes, including one in 1996. Interestingly enough, although the devastation was enormous, the old-style architecture blending elements from several cultures was largely unscathed, while modern constructions were levelled.
The Chinese government, supported by the UN, has invested millions of yuan in rebuilding in the Naxi architectural style, a refreshing alternative to the high-rise buildings occurring so frequently in the rest of China.
As you wander the twists and turns of Lìjiang, you are continually aware of the construction taking place, as builders hammer on wooden frameworks and Naxi and Tibetan women lift canvas sacks of inordinately heavy cement onto their backs.
This is a bustling, busy community. Idleness seems non-existent. Making use of the ancient water-supply system, two women stand side-by-side at the river, one scrubbing her washing with detergent, the other rinsing off her cabbage and spinach leaves.
In the more touristed areas of Lìjiang, funky bars sit alongside "local" restaurants selling delicacies like tea, eggs, corn and chicken feet stew.
Other establishments serve up Naxi omelettes or Naxi sandwiches, consisting of goat's cheese, tomato and fried egg between two pieces of baba flatbread. We eat lunch watching the locals watch us. It is with much amusement that they consider our use of chopsticks, rewarding our efforts with a few photographs to show the family at home. That evening, we encounter some other tourists who offer to introduce us to their guide Li the next morning.
Li, has a generous figure, the result, we will discover, of her vast appreciation for good food. Indeed, everything is "velly delicious". She demonstrates this at a little restaurant in the new town, where we eat sweet dumplings filled with nuts and brown sugar; pork dumplings dipped in soya and then some bean curd porridge.
Sitting on tiny seats in a windowless back room, we sip our green tea out of bowls. As we leave for Tiger Leaping Gorge, we watch a sweating cook as he is enveloped in clouds of steam.
We begin our drive into the mountains, passing through archways of bright yellow elms, whitewashed at the base.
Our driver hoots for and at everything: oncoming traffic; trucks laden with bricks or loads of limestone; school children; bicycles; buses and probably just because he feels like it.
We pass granary stores and see the glacier of Jade Dragon, Snow Mountain reflected against a bright blue sky. From a vantage point, we get our first view of the greenish Yangtze River. Some of the road en route to "Stone Drum", where you can find the first bend in the Yangtze is still being constructed.
Rocks are chained, then suspended on bamboo poles between the shoulders of two men - back-breaking work.
We drive on past roadside stalls selling fruit and dried chillies, which hang scarlet on strings in the sunlight. Women walk through the fields and along the roads, their baskets filled with reeds and firewood.
While Tiger Leaping Gorge is one of the most popular tourist sites in China, I am disappointed by the way in which the landscape has been hacked and manipulated from a natural wonder into a soulless, tunnelled walkway.
Military personnel with loudspeakers caution tourists to keep close to the rock face, and all along, the stone has been daubed with crimson Chinese characters. In retrospect, it is the sheer factor of how man can dominate a supposedly invincible nature that makes this sight so memorable.
That evening, we witness one of the oddities of Lìjiang - a visit to the Naxi Orchestra. This experience involves a great deal of talking in Mandarin interspersed by a sentence or two in English.
A rendition of an historical piece follows, most of which sounds like high pitched screaming. Nobody reads music, the timings are kept by listening although each piece begins with Li's father-in-law banging some bells and chanting something.
What differentiates the orchestra is the vast age of some of the musicians - more than five are well into their 80s. As the chairman introduces a piece, the orchestra members are either fast asleep, stroking their long white beards in thoughtful concentration or possibly dead.
Nevertheless, aesthetically the orchestra is fabulous to observe. Not only are the faces in front of us photogenic and wizened, everybody also wears gorgeous silk costumes in a range of brilliant colours.
As we leave the theatre, we discover Lìjiang at its most magical. In the dark, chilly evening, buildings are adorned with red lanterns, Chinese locals line up beer bottles and sing merrily, and Naxi girls sell candle boats to be floated downriver for good fortune.
We see a couple each kiss a boat, placing it reverently into the water as they send their wish on its way. And if there ever was a place where dreams could come true, this is certainly it.
If you go
- Lìjiang's airport is 25km out of the town, and Yunnan Airlines flies from Kunmíng a few times daily. Buses leave from Kunmíng bus station and take about 10 hours.
- Some agencies in Lìjiang town offer day trips to Tiger Leaping Gorge and the minority villages.
- Li,our guide, can be called on 861-357-837-0587 and is a specialist on the tribes.
- South Africans need a visa to visit China.