Happiness, on the Road: Someday, You'll Miss Today

Travel is never about reaching a destination—it's about rediscovering yourself along the way. The moment you truly take that step, your heart becomes free. Even a wildflower by the roadside or a worn cobblestone can feel fresh and moving.

In March 2012, my partner "Mr. Penguin" and I packed our bags and set foot on the land of Yunnan. No rigid itineraries, no time pressure—we just wanted to be together quietly, wake up naturally, eat our way through every street and alley, and watch every sunrise and sunset. Looking back now, those days feel like amber soaked in sunlight—every frame glowing with warmth.

Departure: Anticipation in the Clouds

As the plane cut through the clouds, sunlight streamed through the window. Mr. Penguin's big hand held mine, and I could hear my own heartbeat. We were almost there—that legendary Lijiang, that place so many had described.

After landing, a driver outside the airport offered us a ride for just 40 yuan for two people, taking us straight to our guesthouse. The place he recommended turned out to be surprisingly good—free Wi-Fi, friendly staff, and just a few minutes' walk to Sifang Street (Square Street). Dropping our bags, we rushed out like birds freed from a cage, fluttering into the alleys of the old town.

Day One: First Impressions of Lijiang, a Food Lover's Frenzy

Along the narrow paths leading to Sifang Street, the stone slabs were polished smooth by time, and red lanterns swayed gently in the breeze. I pressed the shutter and took my first photo—my heart racing, the air itself tasting sweet.

Fresh off the plane, I tried to act ladylike. But I was quickly conquered by the street-side shops. My first pashmina scarf? I got ripped off—paid for two at a price that could have bought four elsewhere. I winced at my wallet but consoled myself: "Mine are the authentic ones. Totally authentic." Later I learned the golden rule in Lijiang: shop around before you buy.

But food cured everything. Strawberry crêpes, chicken jelly cold noodles (2 yuan a skewer—the more I ate, the more excited I got), wild strawberries (the smaller and uglier, the sweeter—10 yuan a bag)... I turned into a non-stop eating machine, devouring my way from one end of the street to the other.

Stuffed and happy, I joined a group of elderly Naxi women dancing in the square. They kept forgetting the steps, glancing at each other, utterly adorable. Mr. Penguin stood by, laughing like a sixty-year-old grandpa. "I really love this music and dancing," he said.

The most unexpected encounter? An alpaca. Fluffy and friendly—just blow a little air at it, and it would lean in to kiss you. Ten yuan for unlimited photos. It tilted its head at me; I tilted mine back—who was copying whom?

From Lijiang, you could already see Jade Dragon Snow Mountain (Yulong Snow Mountain), standing silently in the distance like a sacred landmark. I shouted at it: "Wait for me!"

Day Two: Horseback Riding at Lashi Lake—My Butt Paid the Price

We booked a day trip to Lashi Lake online for 120 yuan per person. Friendly advice: never trust the touts in the old town. Lashi Lake prices range from 100 to 500 yuan, so it's best to go with a travel agency or your guesthouse's day tour.

Morning was horseback riding along the Ancient Tea Horse Road. The stable hand led us to the horses, assigned a dark-skinned guide, and then we were on our own. That trail was steep! Going uphill, my heart was in my throat; going downhill, my butt ached so much I wanted to cry. At the rest stop, corn was sold for 5 yuan a bowl to feed the horses—an unspoken rule. If you didn't buy any, the guide would give you dirty looks.

Lunch was "horse caravan cuisine." The meal was served only when there were four people, but since we were just two, we got the whole place to ourselves—and left plenty of leftovers.

In the afternoon, we went to Lashi Lake. Honestly, it was a bit disappointing—shallow water, strong winds, and the surroundings were a little messy. But if you only captured the pretty parts, it was still Instagram-worthy. The two of us had a boat to ourselves—pure VIP treatment. Migratory birds flew by in the distance, but I missed the shot.

As we left, Mr. Penguin ran over to take a photo with the cheerful stable hand. The guy struck a pose himself, looking like a spy trying to be cute.

From Lashi Lake, a minibus dropped us off at Shuhe Ancient Town. It was much quieter than Lijiang's old town, and the trinkets were cheaper. We stumbled upon a Naxi wedding—the groom was dressed up in a hilariously bizarre outfit, and the procession was beating drums and shouting, "Getting married! Getting married!" Yelling like that in such a beautiful ancient town must have felt amazing. As I was buying fruit, I glanced back—and received wedding candy and cigarettes.

The biggest takeaway from this day: Tibetan yogurt became my daily breakfast staple; the sauce-drenched tofu was best in Shuhe; and then there was that magical "One Meter of Sunlight"—the photo wasn't edited at all, the original was just that beautiful. Legend says couples who encounter "one meter of sunlight" are blessed. I don't know if it's true, but I decided to believe it.

Day Three: Jade Dragon Snow Mountain—Beauty Comes at a Price

We hired a private car to Jade Dragon Snow Mountain for 120 yuan a day—just the two of us, enjoying our own company. Total cost for the day: car rental + entrance fee + cable car + ancient city maintenance fee + rented coats and oxygen tanks + Blue Moon Valley entrance fee = 1,000 yuan for two. Strongly recommend going on your own—no need for a tour group.

The UV rays on Jade Dragon Snow Mountain are brutal, and the wind is fierce. Dress warmly and wear plenty of sunscreen. I paid a painful price—everything on my face except what was covered by my sunglasses got sunburned and peeled off, leaving me with a permanent "sunglasses tan."

Queuing for tickets, waiting for the shuttle, getting on the mountain—it was packed. But the moment I stepped off, I was stunned by the view. The blue! The snow-capped peaks, towering into the clouds, finally revealed themselves before me. Photos were taken in a frenzy. I stripped off my down jacket for a few glamour shots, shivering in the freezing wind, my lips turning purple.

The weather on the mountain changed constantly—one moment overcast, the next sunny. My camera battery died, so I used my iPhone—it still turned out decent. I played model, and a bunch of middle-aged men with DSLRs started photographing us, saying we looked so harmonious and beautiful sitting there.

Next stop: Blue Moon Valley (Lanyue Valley). More blue, blue, blue. A random girl took a photo of us—it was so good that it's still my phone's lock screen. I looked up and saw a heart-shaped cloud. Was I overthinking it?

Blue Moon Valley sits at the foot of the mountain, with Jade Dragon Snow Mountain looming in the background. Many couples were taking wedding photos there—under the sacred mountain, they must have looked ethereal.

After coming down, Mr. Penguin declared we needed a proper meal. The cured pork ribs at that restaurant were incredible—even the broth was delicious. The Naxi fried rice was also fantastic, each grain coated with egg. On the way back, we were drawn into a bar by the song "A Moment" (Yi Shun Jian)—I have a soft spot for that tune.

Day Four: Wangulou (Ten Thousand Ancient Towers) and Slow Time

This day was all about exploring Wangulou, wandering, shopping, listening to music, drinking tea, surfing the internet, and eating, eating, eating.

Wangulou is the highest point in Lijiang. The air was fresh, the pine forest sloped gently, and there were hardly any tourists. Some elderly people were playing chess there. I saw an old couple sharing just one portion of food, carefully blowing on it to cool it down, feeding each other bite by bite. So sweet. Of course, I had to try that too.

From Wangulou, I saw the panoramic view of Lijiang—but I didn't take a good photo, so I won't post it. I bought a wide-brimmed hat, but by then, everything below my eyes was already sunburned.

For dinner, I had local Lijiang rice noodles. The soy sauce flavor was a bit strong, but it still tasted good.

Day Five: Dali—Sometimes, Regret Is Also a View

We signed up for a two-day tour of Dali. But my sunburn was getting worse—severe peeling, blisters on my lips. Mr. Penguin was worried sick and took me around Dali late at night looking for a hospital. The doctor said to stay out of the sun and rest more. Worried it would get worse, we left the tour group the next day and took a bus back to Lijiang.

Despite the regret, Dali still left me with beautiful memories.

Butterfly Spring (Diequan) was crystal clear. First wash for wealth, second for career, third for love—you know the drill. The spring isn't big, but it has a beautiful story. Worth a visit to learn about Bai culture.

Erhai Lake was breathtakingly vast. On the cruise, the guide tried to sell seated tickets for 30 yuan, including free tea. No pressure, but I'd suggest skipping it—you're better off taking photos on the deck, where there are open-air seats. The wind was so strong that if you didn't hold onto your hat, it would fly away. I couldn't even smile—my lips hurt too much, tears streaming down my face.

Lucky for us, we saw lots of seagulls. If you feed them, they fly right up to you.

The Three Pagodas (Santa) had a thriving incense trade. The plaque on the temple was made from 182 kilograms of gold. Lin Xinru (a famous Taiwanese actress) bought a storefront there and turned it into a vegetarian restaurant called "Xin Ru Yuan"—costing five million yuan. One stick of incense was 80 yuan. The current grand temple was destroyed during the Xianfeng and Tongzhi eras, but the three pagodas survived intact.

Day Six: Goodbye Dali, Back to Lijiang

We took a bus from Dali back to Lijiang—110 yuan for two. Honestly, Dali is perfectly doable on your own; we just took the tour for convenience. Dali isn't expensive, and the people are friendly.

Before leaving, we had Dali beef noodles for 5 yuan. The shop owner was so kind—they even added extra meat for us.

Back in Lijiang, I swore to break up with the sun for a day: "It's either you or me." I became nocturnal, sleeping all day, then exploring Lijiang at night. The excitement was still there.

Day Seven: Black Dragon Pool (Heilongtan)—A Final Farewell

We went to Black Dragon Pool and ate all our favorite foods one last time, memorizing every taste. The pool had dried up—a bit disappointing.

Just as we were about to leave, the temperature dropped and it started drizzling. Thank goodness—the sun had been with us all these days.

Looking through our photos, I realized there was almost none without sunglasses. Mostly because my sunburned face needed hiding. Lesson learned: always, always wear sunscreen on future trips.

Final Thoughts

Lijiang is a place made for killing time. Basking in the sun with your loved one in a guesthouse courtyard, strolling hand in hand through Sifang Street, enjoying the lazy afternoon light—time softens and slips away without you noticing. This, I imagine, is what life as a fairy-tale couple must feel like.

Someday, you'll miss today. You'll miss the sting of sunburn, the satisfaction of being stuffed with good food, the panic of getting lost in ancient alleys, and those afternoons spent doing nothing but daydreaming with the one you love.

Happiness has always been on the road.

Practical Tips Summary: - In Lijiang, always compare prices before buying - For Lashi Lake day trips, book through a travel agency or guesthouse—don't trust street touts - On Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, sunscreen is non-negotiable—or you'll end up with a "sunglasses face" like me - Dali is perfectly fine for independent travel; costs are low - If you have time, stay a few extra days in Lijiang doing absolutely nothing—just daydream

(Based on travel experiences from March 2012. All information is for reference only.)