Spring Breeze or a Light Journey? There’s No Contest

A Journey Home from Northeast China to Dali – A Healing Trip Free of Heavy Baggage

When we were children, our parents held our hands and showed us the world. When we grow up, we finally get to turn the tables—holding their hands and taking them to the distant places we once dreamed of. This, perhaps, is the gentlest meaning of growing up: from being protected to protecting, from being led to leading.

On April 14, 2017, I set out from Northeast China with my family, heading all the way south. Destination: Dali. The seven-day trip wasn’t expensive per person, but what we gained was time that money can’t buy.

Why Dali?

Years ago, when I first backpacked far from home, I chose Yunnan. Back then, I was young and impulsive, ready to roam the world with nothing but a big pack on my back. This time, I returned with my family, carrying a sense of "giving back" to the land that had once given me so much.

In my heart, Dali has always been synonymous with "peaceful days." Even when negative news about Yunnan kept surfacing, even when Erhai Lake was undergoing pollution cleanup, and even when my phone showed nothing but rain icons for Dali’s weather forecast—I still believed this land wouldn’t let me down.

And it didn’t. When we stepped out of Dali Railway Station, we were greeted by a clear, sunny morning. It was too early for the buses to be running, so we stopped at a roadside stall for a bowl of hot porridge. That bowl of porridge warmed our stomachs—and even more, our hearts.

We hopped on Bus No. 8, heading from Xiaguan to the Old Town. For the first time, I took a close look at this city as it slowly woke up. Hello, Dali.

Traveling Light Is the Real Secret

This trip was the lightest I’ve ever packed in years.

I brought a Kindle loaded with adventure novels by Nanpai Sanshu; a Zhiyun smartphone gimbal for recording video clips along the way; a Sony A7II mirrorless camera with an SEL24-240 lens—one lens for everything, with decent image quality; the lightest MacBook I could find; and a portable Wi-Fi device (though it’s meant for overseas roaming, in China it just served as a power bank).

And just like that, I shed my heavy backpack. In the days that followed, I never felt so free when walking.

The point of travel is never about how much gear you bring. It’s about how much heart you carry. When you let go of your burdens, you can truly embrace the scenery.

At a Photo Exhibition in Dali

In Dali, you absolutely must attend a friend’s photo exhibition.

That day, at a place called "Dali’s Little Courtyard" near Dali University, the space was filled with large prints of children’s smiling faces. Those photos were captured by Tina through her lens—the images she loved most. Big brother Xu Song, along with many neighbors who had settled in Dali, all gathered together, spending a leisurely and cozy afternoon.

It felt like suddenly stepping into a warm, welcoming family. No one asked where you came from. No one urged you to go anywhere. Everyone just sat together, chatting, looking at photos, and soaking up the sun.

That’s the magic of Dali—it turns strangers into friends, and passersby into locals.

Around Erhai Lake: Don’t Miss Xiaoputuo

Circling Erhai Lake is a must-do. And Xiaoputuo (Little Putuo Island) is an absolute must-stop.

There, a flock of "little greedy cats" awaits—seagulls that have traveled from afar. They’re not afraid of people; they’ll even fly right up to your hand, waiting for you to feed them. You can wander without a destination or direction, and when you get tired, just sit down by a boundary marker. Under the blue sky and white clouds, pink cherry blossoms are in full bloom.

As the sun sets, rows of "Jesus rays" pierce through the clouds, casting down a beauty of light and shadow that leaves you speechless. Then the colors of the sunset shift—from golden yellow to orange-red, then to purplish red. Every second is a painting.

You can’t help but press the shutter. But you also know that no camera, no matter how good, can capture the feeling in that moment.

Guangyi Village: A Bai Family Feast

Guangyi Village holds the warmest meal in my memory.

A Bai (ethnic minority) family prepared a home-style feast for us. One dish—sour-and-spicy fish—filled the entire courtyard with its aroma. There were many greens I couldn’t name or remember, but every dish carried the taste of home.

Beyond the courtyard walls stretched endless fields. Hardworking farmers toiled in the fields, while in the distance, cars raced along the highway. Two completely different rhythms came together here in a strange harmony.

I love walking along the ridges between the fields, breathing in the earthy scent of nature. It’s a smell you’ll never find in the city.

Stay in a Guesthouse: Live Like a Local

In Dali, staying in a guesthouse isn’t about sleeping—it’s about living.

In the early morning, a bowl of congee or a glass of soy milk. The little flowers in the courtyard slowly wake up, swaying as if saying good morning. A dog, a cup of coffee, an afternoon. Occasionally, the lazy owner might bake a matcha bread, its fragrance filling the air.

And so, time flows by, drop by drop.

This is the "homesick" life in Dali—missing home while staying in a place that feels just like home.

Heading to Weishan: A Bowl of Su Laosan’s One-Noodle

We went to Weishan for one thing: a bowl of Su Laosan’s famous "one-noodle" (a single, continuous noodle served in broth).

By the time we were already driving on the highway, the friends who had stayed up all night watching movies with us were still fast asleep. In Weishan, we visited the Ma Family Mansion and ran into a kindergarten class out on a picnic. The ancient town of Weishan had embroidered shoes, handmade noodles, and a belly-stuffing rice-noodle dish called bā ròu ěr sī (braised pork with rice noodles). The pickled vegetables on display were so visually stunning that you couldn’t help but want to buy them.

What I remember most vividly was a colorful butterfly that landed on a vendor’s stall and didn’t rush to fly away. In that moment, I felt I truly understood the meaning of "peaceful days."

Posting Late at Night on Social Media: Because Every Day Was Too Full

In Dali, I often posted on social media late at night. Because every day was so full—so full that I didn’t have time to check my phone.

Even on rainy days, I would patiently reply to friends who messaged me asking about travel tips, telling them how beautiful Dali was, insisting they had to come.

This trip, I brought only one all-purpose lens—the SEL24-240. It covers several commonly used focal lengths, works for both close-ups and long shots, and delivers decent image quality. More than enough for documenting a journey.

A light and joyful trip requires cutting down. Not just your backpack, but also your mind.

Conclusion: Remember Those Sunny Days

Remember those days bathed in sunlight. On every difficult day that follows, they can serve as comfort for a lonely heart.

If life doesn’t feel quite right, head west—come to Dali.

Trade in a promise of blooming flowers for a stretch of peaceful days.

Key Takeaways:

• Travel light: A trip isn’t a gear competition. Pack the least luggage, carry the most heart.
• Immerse yourself locally: Attend a photo exhibition, eat a Bai family feast, stay in a guesthouse—live like a local.
• Don’t miss Xiaoputuo on the Erhai loop: Seagulls, Jesus rays, and sunsets are unmissable sights.
• Weishan is a must: Su Laosan’s one-noodle, bā ròu ěr sī, embroidered shoes—every corner is worth stopping for.
• One lens does it all: The SEL24-240 lens is lightweight, practical, and more than enough for recording your journey.

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