Yunnan Province, China: Shangri-La

Our final destination in Yunnan Province was Shangri-La. That is a real sentence, and no we were not on drugs (although the oxygen deprivation at more than 10,000 ft above sea level might have had a similar effect). Known for centuries by Tibetans as Gyalthang, and more recently called Zhongdian by the Chinese, the city officially changed its name to Shangri-La in 2001. The term "Shangri-La" was popularized in the West largely by James Hilton's 1933 novel Lost Horizon, which used the name to describe a mythical place in the mountains of Tibet that possessed a beautiful monastery. Believing that they had as good a claim to the name as anywhere else did, the city made the change as a way to promote tourism in the region.

Although not formally part of what has now been designated the Tibet Autonomous Region by the Chinese government, this part of Yunnan has long been considered to be Tibet. The people who have always lived there are Tibetan, their beliefs and traditions are Tibetan. Sadly, there is currently no way to pass overland from here into the now-province of Tibet, meaning that locals cannot easily travel -- or as easily as one can, given the terrain -- to many of the places that might be important to them for religious or ancestral reasons.

We arrived safely in Shangri-La after an often harrowing ride out of Tiger Leaping Gorge, and a brief rain storm produced this rainbow to greet us.

We stayed just outside of the old quarter at the delightful Kevin's Trekker Inn. The view from the roof of his place was quite impressive.

The first morning there, we headed directly to Ganden Sumtseling Monastery, which I'd been eagerly anticipating for weeks. Of course we couldn't make it quite all the way there without being stopped for a photo op.

Originally founded in 1679 by the Fifth Dalai Lama, Ganden Sumtseling was largely destroyed by the Chinese upon invading Tibet in 1959. Since the early 1980's, however, Tibetan Buddhists have been allowed to rebuild the monastery and attempt to return to the status quo. Over 700 monks live and work at the monastery today.

This is a map of the complex.

The entryway (pictured above) greeted us immediately with many vibrant paintings depicting aspects of the Tibetan Buddhist belief system.

The monastery contains numerous prayer halls ascending up the hillside. We were requested not to take pictures inside of the prayer halls, although a number can be found on this blog post. In addition to numerous (mostly golden) Buddhas, some quite massive, the halls were thoroughly decorated with some of the most intense paintings I've ever seen. Tibetan Buddhism prioritizes peace, but that does not mean that its artistry shies away from depicting the brutality of life, nor of showing often angry cosmic forces at work.

The high altitude made this climbing significantly more challenging than one would otherwise expect.

One of the most spectacular aspects of being in this part of the world were the skies -- constantly changing, but often so impossibly blue that it almost didn't seem real.

This type of Buddhist monument is known as a stupa.

And of course prayer flags are abundant anywhere that Tibetan Buddhism is practiced.

After reading Lost Horizon on the flight home, I agree that Gyalthang has good reason to think of itself as the true embodiment of Shangri-La.

After the intensity of the monastery, we needed yak burgers to refuel.

And carrot juice, for some of us. (I think I had a Coke.)

Tragically, a fire ripped through the old quarter of Shangri-La in January of 2014, destroying about half of the old buildings. Luckily, there were no fatalities, and the residents have been busy rebuilding what was lost ever since.

Scarf shopping.

This stupa had numerous small prayer wheels for pilgrims to spin as they meditatively circle it (clockwise, always clockwise).

The Rachels got in on the action.

At the other end of the spectrum was this prayer wheel, purportedly the largest in the world (or at least it was until recently). We joined the crowd in giving it a few spins.

I'm far from the tallest guy I know, or even the tallest guy in my family. Still, China made me feel massive.

Later, after dinner and a couple of cocktails with a new friend, Jose -- a Londoner of American and Spanish citizenship -- we returned to the prayer wheel.

And we managed to get it spinning from a dead stop. In the rain. With only four of us. U-S-A!

Street meat might eventually prove to be my downfall. But it hasn't yet.

The next morning, Rachel started off the day with a bang.

Although we had wanted to visit Pudacuo National Park, the car ride to and from plus the admission fee was going to cost over $100 (USD) per person, which seemed a bit steep. Instead, we rented bikes for the equivalent of $5 and road out to the Yila Grassland/Napa Lake area. This large, flat plain provides fertile grazing land for livestock of all sorts. As you can see, they are given quite a bit of freedom.

More new friends! Nary a dinner invitation, however.

Being there towards the end of the rainy season, the lake covered more of the grassland than it often does.

I'm not at all sure whey they'd decided to sit in the middle of the road for this picture, but when we road past they obviously couldn't resist asking us to join in the fun.

These pigs, on the other hand, could not have cared less about getting a picture with us.

Yaks on yaks on yaks.

I kept picturing Ghengis Khan riding over these hills with his invading army. Maybe I watch too many movies.

These bright pink headdresses are very common among women in the region.

We felt very welcomed by all the locals going about their daily lives. No one seemed to mind us being there, which we were highly sensitive of.

Back in Shangri-La, we had an even closer encounter with a yak. He didn't put up much of a fight.

It was a big day for interacting with animals.

We don't skip happy hour. Ever.

For our last meal in Shangri-La, we ate a traditional Tibetan hot pot. The coals in the middle get things nice and toasty.

And, of course, yak dumplings.

We had by this point gone so far up into northwest Yunnan that the easiest way to return to Kunming -- from where we would all head home -- was by flying. A quick 50 minute flight on Lucky Air proved to be a good move, as I don't think any of us were up for a 16 hour bus ride at that point.

Back in Kunming, we had one last day together. We returned to a favorite noodle shop just around the corner from our hotel.

Even though this woman spoke as much English as we do Chinese (i.e., none), we felt like we developed a bit of a relationship over the course of several meals there.

Being a Lauber man, I couldn't resist the lure of the Yunnan Railway Museum. It was housed in a retired train station, and told the story of the construction of the Yunnan-Vietnam Railway, built around the turn of the 20th century to link Kunming with the coastal city of Hai Phong, Vietnam. This was an extremely ambitious project, especially for the time, given the immense challenges posed by the terrain between these cities.

One of the best parts was the entire room filled with different types of train engines and cars.

Despite likely exhaustion with my dozens of pictures, they were good-natured enough to not roll their eyes for this one.

Leaving the museum, we opted not to get a freshly-cooked duck. But hey, it's good to know that's an option.

I'll catch up, I promise.

We crossed this river numerous times. It was, umm, pretty.

Really, don't mind me, I'll be right there.

We had time to check out a few last historic sights around Kunming. The Eastern and Western Pagodas, built in the late 8th or early 9th century, sit about two football fields apart from one another. They make a striking appearance against the backdrop of modern skyscrapers.

This is the Eastern Pagoda.

Between the two pagodas sits this ancient fortress.

And this is the Western Pagoda. The birds at the top are said to be an excellent representation of decor during the Nanzhao Kingdom.

Kunming has a large Muslim population. Unfortunately, their historic mosque was torn down a few years ago, and this gawdy, commercialized monstrosity was built in its place.

Sometimes it feels like the further we go the closer we are to home.

One last trip through Cuihu Park brought us past this dancing troupe. They all seemed to be having a good time.

We returned Heavenly Manna for one last Yunnanese meal. Cue the waterworks.

All of us were feeling less than fresh at the airport at 5am the next morning, but I think we look pretty good, all things considered.

By all accounts, we had a fabulous trip to Yunnan. We were blessed with safe travel at every leg of our journey and, aside from a few upset stomachs and clumsy scrapes, suffered no notable harms. This is a fascinating part of the world that we all felt very fortunate to see. China is a massive country, and we've visited only a small fraction of it, yet the part that we saw contained enough surprises, charms, and sketchy bathroom situations to provide us with a lifetime of memories. Thank you, as always, for being interested in our travels! And we wish you a Happy Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving).