72 Hours on the Road, Chasing the Light: Searching for Summer in Yunnan

I returned to Yunnan from Guangdong at the tail end of March, and the days that followed felt like someone had hit the pause button. The pandemic hung like a stubborn haze over every urge to travel. But Yunnanese people seem to carry a deep-seated longing for nature in their bones—sunlight, wind, grasslands—these elements feel like genetic code. As soon as the weather turns good, your body just wants to get out.

In late April, Yunnan's temperature is just right. The breeze is gentle, the sunlight soft and forgiving. We decided to take 72 hours, hit the road, and go looking for the footprints summer had left behind.

The Route: Three Days, One Loop, A Chase for Light

This short road trip wasn't complicated, but it was full of surprises:

Kunming — Shipen Temple Sports Park — Xundian Pasture — Xundian Beidaying Grassland — Kunming

Over three days, we watched the city lights flicker to life from a hilltop at dusk, caught a pink sunset over a pasture, and witnessed the magical beams of the Tyndall effect over a vast grassland. Every beam of light felt like summer handing us its business card.

Day One: Dinner with the Sunset on the City's Edge

Our ride was a FAW-Volkswagen Talagon—a beast stretching over 5.1 meters. The first thought that crossed my mind: This is the largest SUV Volkswagen has ever made, and it owns the road.

Our destination was Turtle Mountain on the outskirts of Kunming, also known as Shipen Temple Sports Park. It's still under construction, and the scenery isn't exactly breathtaking. But the lack of crowds more than made up for it. For us, it became a "private date spot on the city's rooftop"—you can drive the car all the way to the end of the ridge. Spread out before you is the entire city; behind you, a small hill covered in green trees, with the occasional cow wandering over to say hello.

Before we left, my biggest worry was whether the trunk could fit all our camping gear. The Talagon's massive 357-liter cargo space put those fears to rest. The third-row seats in the 7-seat version fold in flexible combinations, easily swallowing a tent, canopy, chairs, table, food supplies... It's practically tailor-made for gear junkies.

The road up the mountain was a winding dirt track still under construction, covered in loose gravel and riddled with bumps. I was a bit nervous, but the Talagon's 2.5T engine put me at ease instantly. The 4MOTION all-wheel-drive system handled the steep, uneven climb with steady acceleration and plenty of power—no hesitation whatsoever.

Halfway up, we could already see the city on the opposite side. We decided to set up camp right there. After more than a year of camping, Rose had become a pro. She could have the canopy and tent up in 20 minutes by herself. I handled the little things—assembling chairs and tables. A clear division of labor, efficient and smooth.

Once the canopy was up, I sat underneath it, letting the early summer mountain breeze wash over me, waiting for the sunset. Before me was the city we'd called home for over twenty years. Behind me, a small hill covered in green. The afternoon city was veiled in a thin mist, hiding the traffic and the noise, and for a moment, all those nagging worries faded away.

I wandered over to the hill behind us and snapped a few photos. There was something almost desolate about it—a hint of the wilderness. The wind made me feel lazy, unwilling to move. But my stomach had other ideas. I shuffled back to the car, pulled out the ingredients, and started prepping for a hotpot dinner.

The Talagon's hands-free power tailgate was a lifesaver—when your hands are full, just swing your foot under the rear bumper, and the door opens or closes automatically. I laid out the ingredients neatly on the table, chopped the dipping sauce, and got everything ready. All that was left was to wait for the sunset.

Summer days are long. The sun, like a playful child, refused to leave Yunnan's sky. It wasn't until 7:30 PM that it finally began its slow descent. The golden light of the setting sun bathed our campsite. Against the backlight, the steam rising from our hotpot looked strangely comforting.

Those few minutes of sunset are among the most beautiful, fleeting moments in the world. We dropped everything and just watched. The sun left its last warmth on our skin, our silhouettes reduced to tiny outlines. Holding my hand up to frame the sun, it felt like a gentle farewell to the day.

After the sun disappeared completely, a pinkish-purple twilight spread across the sky. In that moment, we found summer's trail—hidden in that gorgeous afterglow, like a shy young girl.

We ate our hotpot under the twilight sky, watched a show on our tablet, and joked, "Never thought we'd be binge-watching on a mountain." As night fell, the distant city lights began to twinkle. Our camping lantern turned the canopy into a warm, orange "little house," as romantic as a movie scene. We sat on the edge of the hill, cups of hot tea in hand, quietly savoring this strange, wonderful moment with nature.

As the night deepened, the city lights dimmed one by one. The world around us grew incredibly quiet. Only the rhythmic chirping of insects in the grass remained.

Time to head down. As I got in the car, the Talagon's micro-lens matrix projection module automatically cast a nearly 3-meter-long strip of light on the ground, illuminating the area around the car. Pure ceremony. The ambient lighting offered 8 exterior design points. I chose my favorite blue "Desire" mode. The lights inside the door handles lit up, guiding my hands to the right spot.

Camping on the city's rooftop brought back a peace I hadn't felt in a long time. The gentle breeze whispered that the best season was quietly on its way. Goodnight, early summer Kunming.

Day Two: Xundian Pasture, A Purity Like New Zealand

Summer was creeping closer, unnoticed. Yunnan's early summer always stirs the heart—the green grass slowly poking through the soil, the mountain wind growing gentler. Just outside Kunming, there's a place as pure as New Zealand: Xundian Pasture.

I fell asleep in the car without realizing it. The Talagon's double-layer soundproof glass did an excellent job, blocking out almost all the wind and tire noise on the highway. It wasn't until we turned onto an unnamed national road, with sunlight filtering through the trees and spilling into the car, that I woke up.

Both sides of the road were lined with lush green bushes. The green scenery flashed by in the rearview mirror. The road was full of surprises—after leaving the tree-lined path, we came across a railway.

Rose declared, without a hint of doubt, "This is definitely abandoned!" She urged me to walk on the tracks and take some photos. I was skeptical, but there was indeed a fair amount of trash on the rails—instant noodle cups, tissues, the kind of stuff that falls off trains.

Halfway through our photoshoot, we heard a train whistle in the distance. We scrambled off the tracks and stood by the side of the road. A few minutes later, a train rolled slowly into view.

Xundian Pasture is about a two-hour drive from Kunming. Few people, beautiful scenery. If you're lucky, you might even catch the shepherd and his flock at dusk. From a bird's-eye view, the pasture looks like a painting come to life.

The last time I was here was years ago, when I was a portrait photographer. I brought a model here for a test shoot. Back then, hardly anyone knew about it. It was a wild pasture, and visitors could walk freely through the grass. Now, due to the pandemic and ecological protection, the pasture no longer allows people or vehicles to enter the grassland. We could only take photos from behind the fence. There's one small path you can walk in on, but cars have to be parked on the roadside.

Yunnan's weather has been unstable this year. We were lucky to catch such a clear, sunny day. The clouds scattered across the bright blue sky like something out of a manga. The grass on the meadow had just started to sprout, covering the hills and earth like a thin carpet. Under the sunlight, that "carpet" showed different shades—pale green, yellowish green. Yunnan's summer begins with this light green.

My favorite moment—the backlight—had arrived. The grass, the trees, and Rose all looked soft and dreamy in the lens. The sun slowly sank behind the hill, leaving a golden halo on the rearview mirror. In the minutes after the sun set, the world seemed to lose its color. From sunset to twilight, there are several distinct phases.

We took out our camping lantern and waited for the twilight that was yet to come. A blue-purple dusk began to appear. A large tree on the pasture, shaped like an umbrella, reminded me of the scene from the movie Flipped. And just at that moment, the clouds formed the shape of a heart, with an orange glow glowing through them. Early summer begins with this kind of romance, too.

The Talagon's LED taillights, with 30 adjustable colors, and the 14 ambient lights inside the car added a splash of color to this romantic evening. As night deepened, we entered the final blue hour after twilight. We turned on our camping lantern and placed it beside us, adding a touch of warmth to the cold night air.

The wind rustled through the trees. Summer was getting closer and closer.

Day Three: Beidaying Grassland, Frolicking in the Tyndall Light

The final stop on our 72-hour summer light chase was Beidaying Grassland.

It's not far from Xundian town center. We grabbed a coffee in town at noon and drove leisurely toward Beidaying. Like Xundian Pasture, the grass here had only just started to sprout. It wasn't thick, but the color was a lovely, tender green.

It was the May Day holiday, and we hadn't expected the camping areas at Beidaying to be completely packed. Because of the travel restrictions due to the pandemic, the camping trend had taken off. More and more people were turning camping into a lifestyle. We were no exception. Seeing the crowd, we turned around and left, determined to find a spot with no one around.

We found a patch of grassland surrounded by grazing cattle and sheep. We pulled out the camping table and decided to have a picnic from the trunk. We folded down all the rear seats in the Talagon, and the space advantage became immediately obvious—it was wide and comfortable, big enough for two people to lie down. We set the table in the trunk, sat at the tailgate, and enjoyed both the shade and the changing breeze.

We took our time sipping the coffee we'd bought at noon. In Yunnan, it's hard not to just zone out. The sun peeked in and out of the clouds. The Talagon's full-touch controls made it easy to open the panoramic sunroof. Lying in the car, watching the clouds shift—they looked just like in an anime, big, fluffy cotton candy clouds.

The breeze was gentle, the sunlight perfect. The only sounds were the wind and our own breathing. We had the entire grassland to ourselves! We ran around like kids, soaking it all in. I love the summer sunlight. I love the summer wind. And I love spending summer with you.

We'd been driving for nearly 10 hours on this trip. On the way back, I decided to sit in the back and really enjoy the Talagon's second-row "boss seats." They came with electric adjustment, active ventilation, and heating, plus built-in 3D massage airbags that offered three modes and three intensity levels. It felt just like a real massage—the fatigue in my back and shoulders from the past few days melted away.

The weather forecast said the next day would be cloudy with possible rain. Maybe that was why the sky was changing, but we didn't get a sunset that evening. Instead, we were lucky enough to see the Tyndall effect—rays of light piercing through the clouds. A herdsman drove his cattle slowly forward under those beams of light. We followed behind in our car, not in a hurry, just feeling that the scene was incredibly soothing.

On the drive home, we played our favorite music through the Harman Kardon sound system. The incredible audio quality made the time in the car fly by.

Epilogue: 72 Hours, Three Beams of Light, One Summer

In this 72-hour light-chasing journey, we felt summer slowly arriving through our encounters with light.

We saw the city's glow from the hilltop at night. We saw the pink twilight over Xundian Pasture. We saw the Tyndall beams over Beidaying Grassland. Every beam of light was an invitation from summer.

After so long in a stifled life, there was finally light again. Embracing early summer, talking with nature, being with the people you love—finding your own rhythm in the vastness of Yunnan.

That, I think, is the meaning of travel. Not to escape, but to rediscover yourself.

Road Trip Tips: - Route: Kunming → Shipen Temple Sports Park → Xundian Pasture → Beidaying Grassland → Kunming - Duration: 3 days - Season: Late April to early May. Yunnan's early summer, comfortable temperatures - Gear: Camping equipment, sunscreen, windbreaker (it's windy on the hilltops) - Note: Xundian Pasture is under ecological protection. Vehicles cannot enter the grassland; you'll need to walk.

If you want to go looking for summer's trail, Yunnan is a good place to start. Bring the people you love. Bring a good mood. And just go.