Solo in Yunnan: One Person's Moonlight, Two People's Letting Go

Setting Off: A Gamble with Yourself

Have you ever had that moment? A voice inside saying "go," while reason whispers in your ear, "forget it."

The starting point of this trip was actually a night of hesitation. I stared at the flight booking page on my phone, my finger hovering over the "confirm payment" button, unable to press down. Traveling alone sounds romantic, but for a woman, it's more about the unknown fears—getting lost, meeting the wrong people, all those unexpected situations that travel guides never mention.

But then I thought, what if I don't go? That thought would be like a thorn, lodged deep in my heart, aching every time it came to mind. Rather than letting regret take root and grow, why not give myself one chance to be reckless?

So I closed my eyes and pressed the button.

In that instant, I knew there was no turning back. Over the next few days, I was like a person possessed, devouring other people's travel journals, booking every night's accommodation, even buying the dress I'd wear for photos in advance. When the zipper on my suitcase finally closed, a strange excitement surged within me—turns out, the courage to set off alone can be practiced.

Day 1: From Chengdu to Lijiang, an Unexpected Reunion

Departure: Flying Solo

An overnight emergency room shift had left me barely able to keep my eyes open, but the moment the plane broke through the clouds, all drowsiness vanished before the view outside. Those clouds looked just like the cotton candy I loved as a child, piled up in soft, fluffy mounds outside the window, making you want to reach out and grab them.

The 1-hour-40-minute flight was shorter than I expected. After landing in Lijiang, I dragged my suitcase onto the airport bus—20 yuan straight to Blue Sky Hotel. On the bus, a girl sat next to me, also traveling alone. We chatted idly, and then discovered—she was from the same hometown as me, down to the same city and the same county.

How big is the world? Sometimes it's so small you can't believe it.

First Impressions of the Old Town: The Noise Is Theirs, I Just Want a Corner

The innkeeper was a laid-back guy. When he saw I was alone, he didn't ask many questions, just pointed to my room and went back to playing with his dog. After showering, I sat on the balcony, gazing at the snow-capped mountains faintly visible in the distance, and suddenly felt a deep calm settle over me.

In the afternoon, I decided to wander through the old town. But the moment I stepped into Sifang Street, I regretted it—hand drums pounding from every shop, the roar of bars, tourists packed shoulder to shoulder—the noise was suffocating. I ducked into a narrow alley and finally found a relatively quiet corner. I pulled out my phone to take a selfie, only to realize—I'd forgotten my selfie stick.

"Excuse me, could you take a photo for me?"

I swallowed my pride and flagged down a passerby. They kindly snapped a few shots. I looked at the results, smiled, and said thank you. It didn't matter whether the photos were good or not; what mattered was that I'd taken the first step.

Passing by "Da Bing's Little House" (a famous bar run by the writer Da Bing), I stopped. In college, I'd read Be Good, Pat My Head and fantasized about living like Da Bing and his friends—roaming the world, living freely. But now, that passion had cooled. Guitar strumming and singing drifted out from inside. I stood at the door for a while, but didn't go in.

Because I had no stories to tell.

An Unexpected Task at the Inn

Back at the inn, the owner's dog, Sunny, was lounging in the yard with a litter of puppies. Over a dozen little furballs huddled together, yelping for milk. Seeing me idle, the owner handed me a bottle: "Here, this is your job now."

And just like that, this solo traveler instantly became a temporary nanny. The puppies drank contentedly, and my heart melted into a puddle of mush.

By evening, I was hungry. The rice noodles I'd had in the afternoon were too bland, leaving me unsatisfied. The owner cooked me a bowl of egg-fried rice himself. Golden grains wrapped in the fragrance of egg and scallion—one bite, and I almost cried.

Turns out, traveling alone can still be met with kindness.

Day 2: Lugu Lake—One Person's Journey Turns into Four People's Party

Over Mountains and Valleys, Just to See You

From Lijiang to Lugu Lake, the tourist bus took four and a half hours. Round trip for 130 yuan—a fair price. Back when the roads weren't paved, this stretch would jostle you for over seven hours. I dozed off as the bus swayed along, and when I woke up, the window was filled with a brilliant blue.

Lugu Lake. I'd finally made it.

The entrance fee was 100 yuan—not cheap—but when that heart-shaped expanse of water came into view, I knew it was worth it. The blue of the lake was so unreal it looked like a giant gem embedded in the valley. At the center, Li'ge Peninsula was where I'd be staying tomorrow night.

Encounters: The Best Kind of Arrangement

On the bus, I met Brother Jun, Sister Nan, and Xiao Le. The three of them had also met on the road and decided to travel together. Seeing I was alone, they warmly invited me to join them. And so, from that day on, my solo journey turned into a four-person party.

We decided to stay in Li'ge Village—a four-person dorm room, 30 yuan per person. The youth hostel was basic, but it buzzed with the energy of a big family.

Lovers' Beach: The Clarity of Water, the Poetry of Flowers

In the afternoon, we went to Lovers' Beach. The water of Lugu Lake was so clear you could see the stones at the bottom. White flowers floated on the surface. At first, I thought someone had scattered them there, but I soon realized they grew from the lakebed, reaching up to bloom on the water.

"These are called 'water-natured and fickle flowers' (水性杨花, literally 'water-nature, poplar-flower,' a Chinese term for a flirtatious woman)," Brother Jun said.

The name might be vulgar, but the flowers were poetic. White petals, yellow stamens, swaying gently in the ripples—like unspoken secrets.

Bonfire Night and a Moon All to Myself

In the evening, a bonfire blazed in the Mosuo village, and lively singing and dancing echoed all around. But I wasn't in the mood. I wanted to walk by the lake. The nearest shore was at the border between Yunnan and Sichuan, about two kilometers away. As dusk fell, a bit of fear crept in, so I stopped a woman who was also walking alone.

"Want to go for a walk by the lake together?"

She paused for a moment, then smiled: "Sure."

Along the way, she opened up to me. She said she'd come out to clear her mind—there were things she couldn't share with the people close to her, but she felt safe telling a stranger. I listened quietly, nodding occasionally. Sometimes, what people need isn't a response, but simply someone willing to listen.

When we reached the lake, the tourists had dispersed. The only sound was the water lapping against the shore. A full moon rose over the lake, its light scattering across the shimmering surface like a handful of crushed silver.

In that moment, all my hesitation and unease dissolved into the moonlight, leaving only a quiet sense of release.

Day 3: Lugu Lake, from Sunrise to Starlight

5 AM, Just for a Sunrise

The alarm went off at 5 AM. I rubbed my eyes, crawled out of bed, and boarded a wooden boat heading to the center of the lake for sunrise. Ten yuan per person, round trip. The sky was still dark, broken only by the sound of oars cutting through the water—so quiet you hardly dared to breathe.

When the first rays of sunlight touched the lake, the whole world lit up. The sun pierced through the morning mist, warming my face. I closed my eyes and soaked in the beauty of the moment.

Water Clear as Glass, Legends as Mysterious

The water of Lugu Lake has visibility up to 10 meters. I couldn't resist dipping my hand in—cool, but not cold. I'd heard that this place was the legendary "Kingdom of Women" (女儿国), where in Journey to the West, the pig Zhu Bajie drank the lake water and became pregnant. I laughed and pulled my hand back—no way was I drinking that.

Lake View Room: A Luxurious Moment of Solitude

In the afternoon, I moved into the lake-view room I'd been dreaming of—the Bi'an Inn on Li'ge Peninsula. The moment I opened the door, I froze. Outside the balcony, the lake stretched out before me, making the whole room feel like it was floating on water. The price wasn't cheap, but the experience was one of a kind.

I sat on the balcony, opened a book, but couldn't read a single word. Sunlight, lake water, a gentle breeze, and distant singing—everything felt just right.

Evening Barbecue and the Late-Night Moon

In the evening, we went for barbecue by the lake. It was a Mosuo-run shop, and we each ordered a bottle of Dali V8 beer. Full and happy, my companions walked me back to the inn before heading to their own place.

I showered but couldn't sleep. The thought of leaving tomorrow filled me with reluctance. So I wrapped myself in a blanket and sat on the balcony, basking in the moonlight. The sound of the lake lapping against the shore was like a lullaby, and as I listened, I drifted into a daze.

One embarrassing thing—I assumed no one would be outside at night, so I didn't close the curtains. At 10:30 PM, a boat full of tourists paddled right past my window. And I was wearing nothing but underwear and a T-shirt. I frantically yanked the curtains shut, my face burning red.

Day 4: Saying Goodbye to Lugu Lake, Meeting Backpack 10

The Final Morning

At 4:30 AM, I got up to look at the stars, but the clouds were too thick—I couldn't see a thing. After dawn broke, I set up my tripod and took a few "just-woke-up" photos. After breakfast, I reluctantly left the inn. Passing by my door, I couldn't help but take one last picture—goodbye, Lugu Lake.

Backpack 10: A Utopia of Youth

Back in Lijiang, I went to the place I'd been most looking forward to—Backpack 10 Youth Park. It was founded by Xiao Peng, author of Backpack for Ten Years, and felt like a utopia. There was a pool table, a 24-hour book bar, a café, a rooftop terrace, and young people from all over the country.

In the evening, the hostel organized a barbecue party. Fifty yuan per person, with a singer performing on the roof. He sang my favorite song, Make You Feel My Love. People were dancing, drinking, chatting—the energy was just right.

Goodbye: Some People Are Meant to Be Passersby

Sister Nan and Xiao Le were heading back to Beijing tomorrow, while Brother Jun was continuing west to Nepal. Our journey together was quietly coming to an end.

That night, the rooftop was packed with people stargazing. I didn't join the Werewolf game; instead, I went to bed early. Because I knew that tomorrow's farewell would take all the energy I had.

Day 5: Going Home Is the Real Destination

The Last Breakfast

In the morning, I had breakfast at the hostel's cafeteria. Ten yuan per person, all-you-can-eat, but you had to wash your own dishes. I carried my tray to a window seat and watched the people coming and going in the courtyard, a mix of emotions stirring inside me.

Shuhe Ancient Town: The Final Photo

Brother Jun said he wanted to take photos in Shuhe Ancient Town. We went, continuing our "holding hands around the world" series. We must have held hands hundreds of times that day, smiling until our faces hurt.

Going Home: Chuanchuan Hot Pot Is True Love

In the afternoon, I flew back to Chengdu. I got home at 9:30 PM, didn't even put down my bag, and my first stop was for chuanchuan (Sichuan-style skewer hot pot). After days of rice noodles and cured pork ribs in Yunnan, I was craving the taste of home.

One bite, and I almost cried.

In the End: The Meaning of Travel

I thought this trip would be a lonely adventure. But along the way, I met different people, heard different stories, and received kindness and companionship from strangers.

Turns out, setting off alone doesn't mean walking the whole path by yourself. The unexpected warmth, the fleeting connections—those are the greatest surprises of any journey.

If you're hesitating about whether to go, my advice is—just go.

Because when you look up and see that bright moon, you'll find that all your fears and anxieties will, in that moment, transform into a carefree sense of release.

Practical Tips:

• Transportation: Chengdu to Lijiang by plane, 1 hour 40 minutes; Lijiang to Lugu Lake by tourist bus, 4.5 hours, round trip 130 yuan.
• Entrance Fee: Lugu Lake scenic area, 100 yuan.
• Accommodation: Li'ge Village four-person dorm, 30 yuan/person; Bi'an Inn on Li'ge Peninsula (lake view room, higher price but unique experience); Backpack 10 Youth Park (great value, excellent atmosphere).
• Food: Lijiang rice noodles can be bland—try egg-fried rice if you're not a fan; Mosuo barbecue with Dali V8 beer at Lugu Lake is a perfect match.
• What to Wear: Temperature varies greatly between morning and evening—bring a jacket and leggings.
• Other: Don't forget your selfie stick! Or you'll end up like me, awkwardly asking strangers to take your photos.