Before Lìjiāng we visit Chǔxióng where Roger will meet with the local forest research centre. Consequently we are met at Kūnmíng airport by a driver and interpreter and driven 2 hours west to Chǔxióng and are immediately taken to a banquet. The flow of hospitality doesn’t cease for our entire stay. Every meal is provided, with many important guests, sightseeing opportunities are provided, our onward bus trip to Lìjiāng booked and paid for, and our hotel costs covered. The hospitality is exceedingly generous but is all rather overwhelming for an ‘independent’ Australian. I found the 24-hour time-management somewhat claustrophobic, and was equally culturally unsettled by the inability to select my own food. This, in a banquet, is normally not a problem as there are usually a couple of dishes that tempt, but after 4 meals where almost every dish is jumping with chilli I find my stomach, and my Australian soul, in rebellion. I do little for the image of Australians as gracious and appreciative guests. Fortunately Roger is able to provide the research team with a constructive report plus do some data collection for a Tasmanian colleague trying to identify the first species of eucalypt to enter Yúnnán. Through this analysis we realise we’re at 2900 metres, higher than Mt Kosciusko. However the full significance of this doesn’t emerge until later in the trip, when we are at an even greater altitude.
Lìjiāng is a prime tourist destination so we are grateful to be visiting out of the peak periods. However we are still apprehensive so book accommodation in one of the three Lìjiāng ancient villages that hardly gets mentioned in the guide books. We arrive at Dàyàn, the most well known village, which we later find is pristinely presented with immaculate restrooms (a major achievement as the worst toilets I’ve ever encountered have been on this trip) but a sterile atmosphere and a highly regulated and developed commercial infrastructure focused directly on the tourists’ hip pockets. Heading away from Dàyàn, down a broad street 8 lanes wide and ‘state of the art’ lighting snaking up to the horizon, surrounded by modern apartment developments, I start to worry. What backwater or fabricated tourist enclave have I booked us into? It is a long 15 minute drive to Shùhé. 
Over the next couple of days we discover Báishā, the most distant village, is still pretty undeveloped with just a couple of lanes packed with cafes and souvenir shops while the other streets retain a living traditional culture. Yet Shùhé, where we are staying, is halfway between the other two centres, in both distance and development. The village has evolved enough to provide services such as ATMs and a good coffee (locally grown) but still offers simple restaurants and bars frequented by locals, and a streetscape that doesn’t look like it has had the ‘history’ renovated out of it. In addition our guesthouse is extremely welcoming with friendly staff, and dogs, a very comfortable bed and clean surrounds. Shùhé was not a mistake and indeed proves to be a gem, at least for now. The other attraction of the area is Jade Dragon Snow Mountain (Yùlóng Xuěshān) and is a prime example of the ability of Chinese to develop tourist sites that can handle the massively increasing numbers of domestic travellers. There is little concession to the independent and non-Chinese speaking visitor, and the ticket price reflected the scale of the development; 80 yuán tourist tax charged for just being in the Lìjiāng area, 200 Lìjiāng minibus hire to get out to the mountain, 80 yuán to get into the mountain reserve and another 80 yuán to access the section we wanted to see, giving a total, for the 2 of us, of 680 yuán (A$112.00), or about a week of my teaching time. However we are here and the mountain does look impressive, so we sign up to visit Yak Meadow, are loaded onto a bus and wind up the mountain with a tour group of largely Chinese Australian, who laughingly tell us we probably know more Pǔtōnghuà than them.
Alighting from the chair lift we head out across the meadow to the Tibetan looking temple just a couple of hundred meters away. The tour group, with just a 10 minute slot in their schedule, remain on the viewing platform before returning back down the mountain for lunch. It is a beautiful day with cool air, a clear blue sky, and grassland reaching out to the magnificent snow covered mountain. A perfect opportunity for a hike but I feel sick, very very sick! Was it the rice, or the fish? Yet Roger ate the same food and he is fine. So he sets out to explore the grassy rises while I sit in sight of the stunning mountain, trying to ignore the waves of nausea. They prove to be un-ignorable. Later internet research leads us to decide that our fairly speedy accent from sea level to 3500 metres, at Yak Meadow, has resulted in a case of altitude sickness! On reflection, this trip has offered new, and not necessarily flattering, insights into my character and a very ‘memorable’ trip to a mountain meadow, just confirming that travel doesn’t always bring what you expect.
Our guesthouse; www.sleepyinn.com.cn
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