The Lovely Dali
I just got back from a now-annual pilgrimage to Dali, my favorite of Yunnan's many tourist towns. In bad weather, Dali is pleasant and relaxing. In good weather, which Jascha and I were lucky enough to have last week, Dali is spectacular.
Taking advantage of the ample sunshine, we had an unusually active two days. On Thursday, we took a cable car halfway up Dali's western mountain and hiked 10k to a Buddhist temple, nestled in a pine forest. As we neared the end of our walk, we found a friendly cafe that offered lattes and carrot cake. We sat down without hesitation.
The cafe was run by a woman who spoke near-flawless English with an Australian accent. She chatted with us and another pair of travelers as we sat and looked at the stunning view over Erhai Lake. She had grown up in a small Bai village a mile or so away from the cafe, distant from the Australia she would later call home for several years. I remarked how pleasant it must have been to grow up in such a beautiful place.
"Actually, when I was small we were poor and worked very hard. It was only later that we realized how lovely Dali was. In the past it was just another poor village."
Dali has been on the tourist map for a number of years, and in the summer its streets are thronged with Chinese package tourists wearing identical hats and following a colorfully-dressed native guide. In May, there are fewer tourists, and thus a clearer picture of local life emerges: for the first time, I noticed that the vast majority of people there were living their lives, seemingly unconcerned about the two Californians wandering about.
Dali is but one of many towns situated in the valley between the mountain and the lake, and during our hike we had an impressive aerial view of the region's layout. On the second day, we decided to explore these other towns by bike.
Jascha and I had pinpointed a town on the map where the main road converged with the lakeshore, and both Lonely Planet and our tour guide estimated it was sixteen kilometers from Dali's old town. In the end, we rode and rode and never found the town, instead ending up at a "pleasure boat" dock some twenty-five kilometers away. While there, we munched on cold udon-like noodles and Dove chocolate bars, needing energy for what turned out to be a rather grueling journey back. My legs and bottom still has not forgive me for the 50k of cycling.
On previous visits I had enjoyed Bad Monkey, a chilled-out bar that always had an interesting crowed and good music. On this occasion, most of the patrons were bombed out on booze and grass, and one drunk Chinese woman made a rather awkward pass at Jascha. The other foreigners didn't look lively or entertained, but rather stared blankly into space while the music blasted on around us. I found it difficult to believe Bad Monkey was the venue I chose to watch Italy defeat France in the 2006 World Cup final.
Quite a few foreigners in Kunming go to Dali to zone out, and hey- I'm hardly in position to deny them their pleasure. But for a city commonly viewed as a refuge from gritty China, Dali has an enormous amount to offer. Even if our bodies need ample time to recuperate.
