Danba (7-20)

When the driver stopped in Danba, I asked where the guesthouse is. He pointed across the river. I figured I could walk that far; so off I went. When I didn’t see the guesthouse after an appropriate time, I asked someone else, showing the address in Chinese. He pointed ahead to the end of the street. Off I went. Once I got there, I didn’t see anything that looked like a guesthouse; so I asked again and the man pointed down and around the corner. Since everyone pointed like it was close, I kept going for twenty-five minutes. At that time, I asked two women who pointed ahead and clearly were telling me it was too far. They got a taxi for me and told the driver where to take me. The guesthouse was still a five-minute drive away. I wondered why the first driver hadn’t told me to take a taxi or hadn’t told me how much he’d charge to drive me. I would have happily paid, since I had no idea where I was going.

A nice surprise when I arrived at the guesthouse was that there is an English-speaking student who had arrived on Saturday for his summer job there. His English isn’t great, but is certainly was good enough to communicate with me.

On the way, I had been thinking about eating, as I finally had an appetite again. I realized that there are very few Chinese foods that I could consider to be comfort foods. Luckily the young man was able to make the only dish I wanted—tomato and eggs. And he delivered it to my room. Then he plopped on the bed to chat, which I was not happy about, as I was tired and needed to eat. Fortunately, he left after several minutes.

After resting for a few hours, I headed out to buy my bus ticket to Chengdu on Tuesday. I had thought that the hostel is near the bus station, but I was wrong. The hostel woman said they would help me on Monday, but I explained that I’m American and we like to do things early and I needed a ticket on Tuesday. So the young man took me to the bus station and we purchased a ticket. I always feel better knowing that I have a ticket.

Then it was back to my room to rest some more. A couple hours later I went out to buy some food and walk a bit. I was happy to be able to walk without stopping every ten steps but couldn’t walk long. I found a supermarket where I purchased calories, some of which also have nutrition. Then I stopped at reception to ask about arranging a driver on Monday to take me around the area. After making the arrangement, I was happy to be able to give the young man a genuine smile—at least one that felt genuine from the inside. Returning to my fourth floor room, I was really happy to have to stop only once on the way. Progress. The lower altitude, 6200 feet, was really having an effect.

Monday morning when I went to the reception area, no one was there to help me get a driver. After twenty minutes, I went upstairs to find the young man. He didn’t seem to remember that we had made the arrangement on Sunday, which is so Chinese. But he returned with me and told the woman that I wanted a driver. When the man arrived, we arranged to go to four places—two villages and two scenic places that were on a sign I’d seen. When we were getting ready to leave, the young man rather enthusiastically asked if it would be OK with me if he went along. Of course. It was nice of the manager to send him with me to assist with communication.

First we took a rugged road part way up a mountain. Then the driver stopped and instructed us to walk, which we did. I hadn’t anticipated walking up a mountain that day; I thought we were going to a village to walk around. But up we went—slowly. I was glad I could walk uphill more easily now that I was at a lower altitude. This was a rocky path, and Tang was very mindful of how I was doing. 

After half an hour, we reached the place with a magnificent view of the valley and Zhonglu village across the way. Zhonglu is another of the three villages famous for the watchtowers, and we could see them scattered around the area. 

After enjoying the view and taking photos, we headed onward to the meeting point with the driver, who was waiting for us at some sort of government building. After walking for a while, Tang mentioned that the driver had said twenty minutes. I said the driver was wrong. Some of our slower time was due to my slow pace, but some wasn’t. He wouldn’t have arrived where we were in twenty minutes even without me. We continued onward and downward, enjoying the landscape and the views. 

When we came to a house, Tang asked for directions to the government building, and we followed them. At some point, it became clear that we had taken a wrong path somewhere, and he was concerned that he didn’t know where we were. Whenever we found a person, he asked for directions. We walked past many stone houses—some old and some new. Eventually, we came to a construction site for a middle school. At the intersection, we followed a man’s directions until the road clearly went to two houses and stopped. Then we headed back up, and Tang called the driver to meet us at the middle school. When we met him, we realized that the man had sent us the wrong way. The middle school isn’t far from where we had started the walk uphill. In the end, we walked for two hours—not twenty minutes. We never did find out where the original meeting point was. Tang was apologetic for his mistake, but I told him not to worry because I had enjoyed the walk. And I had. It was a beautiful walk. He was very solicitous of me the whole time, taking my hand when the path was rugged, and holding my arm to help me to uphill.

On the way down the mountain, we stopped at the viewpoint for photos. I had been thinking that I’d like to walk through the village a little, but by that time I was finished and tired. I’d seen a number of houses and some watchtowers, and walking through the village wouldn’t be much different—just more of the same in a concentrated area and no mountain path.

Next we went to Suopo, the third of the Tibetan villages in the area. The road there was also rugged. My body was getting tired of the shaking and rattling. When we stopped, a man led us up the mountain to his watchtower. I hadn’t thought we’d be doing more uphill walking, but there we were and up we went. The trees along the path are about 400 years old. One is 1000 years old. 

When we reached the watchtower, the man said we had to pay 20 RMB/$3.30 to go inside, which was not a surprise. I’d expected that he wanted money. But, since we were there, we might as well go inside. He explained that his watchtower is one of the oldest in the area—850 years old. 

The house was the house of the local king. One room is a painted altar room. We went up ladders inside the house to the top where the tower is. There is another tower nearby that we could have gone to, but one was adequate. 

The towers have different shapes—some have four sides, 

some have eight. They were used during war to warn of enemies approaching. 

When we walked down, men were carrying loads of dirt to the path. One man told Tang that the path would be easier to walk on the next day. I’m not sure why we stopped at this man’s house. Perhaps he is a friend or relative of the driver.

So that was my visit to Suopo. In the end, I visited all three of the Danba Tibetan villages and didn’t go into any of them, which I found interesting. I know you can pay admission and walk around the villages, but that didn’t happen. I’m happy with what did happen.

Next we headed to the Manoiu Valley, which was on the sign I’d seen. Another rugged road, but this one goes along the river. It’s a lovely drive. 

The destination was the narrow canyon through which the river rushes loudly and rapidly. 

On the way back, we stopped to photograph a tree the driver likes. 

The evening light on the water was lovely.

That was our last destination. There wasn’t time for the fourth one, which was fine with me. My body was tired of being shaken and rattled so much, and I was ready to return to my room. After a brief rest, I went downstairs to eat dinner. Tang suggested that I go out. When I asked if he was cooking, he said the woman was cooking noodles. That sounded good to me, as I really didn’t want to go out. The noodle soup was some of the most delicious I’ve had. She wouldn’t let me pay for my small bowl of soup. Perfect after the long day.

The day worked out well. Tang was a good companion and support when I needed it—and sometimes when I didn’t—and he spoke English well enough and got lots of practice to build his confidence. I know my trip would have been different if he hadn’t been along—maybe I would have been taken to walk in the villages instead of on the mountains. And, if I hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have had the trip to see some of the sites in the area. So it worked out well for both of us.

Jiaju (7-18)

Friday’s trip to Jiaju was long. Tashi drove me to Tagong, stopping to photograph some of the mani stones along the way, 

and stayed with me to make sure I got a place in a shared van that went to another town and then to on to Danba. Waiting and driving took an hour. Then we stopped in that town for almost three hours. Since I was still low in energy, I slept most of that time. Finally, the van took off. I think it was waiting for the driver’s lunch time. The trip to Danba took another three hours down from the high grasslands and up over other mountains. I slept most of the time.

In Danba, the driver correctly guessed that I was going to Jiaju, a tourist destination village, and delivered me to another driver. When we got to the ticket-purchasing stop, he pulled the shades on the back seat so he could drive though without my paying for a ticket; he kept the money for himself. (I learned later that he also charged me too much for the ticket.) I had selected the guesthouse based on its location near the bridge, which seemed like a good place to be. However, I didn’t realize that everything is downhill from there and nothing is near. I also hadn’t realized that it is up a mountain and had thought I was going to a lower altitude. But it turned out to be a good place to be.

The guesthouse is a typical Tibetan house. I enjoyed the painted common area 

and the decorations in my room. They made it a pleasant place to hang out and relax for a day.

When I went to eat dinner, I was seated with a man who was also traveling alone. We were served a total of twelve dishes. It must have been a set meal, as there was a large group in the back room. I can’t imagine that he ordered all that food. The food was good—not too oily like Chegdu food—but I couldn’t eat much. Since he spoke a bit of English, we were able to chat a little. He was driving for a month to see western Sichuan.

When I woke up at 10:00 Saturday morning, I knew that my penchant for slow travel had taken a new twist. I went down for breakfast, which did nothing for me—cold mantou/steamed bread with no butter or jam, spicy fungus, and hard boiled eggs. I didn’t even like the tea, which is unusual. One of the hotel women chatted with me—in Chinese with gestures, of course—about how I didn’t look good. When I said I wanted a driver, using my dictionary, she said something. Later, when she saw me, she said the same thing and pointed with walking gestures down the road.

So, since I wanted to see something other than my hotel room, off I went. I could see the village beneath but knew that wouldn’t be on the agenda. I was surprised to see corn growing on the mountains. 










This area is famous for 2000-year-old watch towers, and Jiaju is one of the places to see them. So I was happy to see a couple on the mountaintop 

and below in the village. 

On the way down the road, I saw a small building I liked and wondered if someone lived there, as it was quite small. On the way back up, the door was open; so I looked in and saw that it’s a shop. I was very happy to see that the woman had one of the bottled iced teas I like. When I left, she gave me two walnuts.

Back at the guesthouse an hour later, I decided to sit in the common room and read on my phone. That way I could enjoy the ambiance of the room and the view of the mountains. A group of five Tibetans was eating lunch. I noticed that they had something that looked like—and turned out to be—green beans and ordered some. The amount was astounding. One of the woman came to offer me fried fat with a very little meat—bacon. I said I don’t eat meat. A while later she gave me some pan-fried bread that was good. Before they left, we chatted a bit in minimal Chinese with a few words of English. Two of them are teachers. Then it was photo time. I took a cup of beans to my room to nibble on throughout the rest of the day.

After relaxing in my room for a couple hours, I decided to take a short walk the other direction. It was evening and the evening light on the mountains and village were lovely. 

There’s a viewpoint where cars can stop so people can view the village. I relaxed there for a while. I had noticed that a couple women had bags of apples and really wanted some. So I bought a couple. A high school boy was with them, and he gave me a plum. I don’t usually like plums, but this one was sweet and delicious. While I stood by the wall enjoying the view, he came to chat a little. He goes to high school in Chengdu, which he prefers to his village. A common story.

Although I was feeling a little stronger, I still had no energy or appetite. After sitting for a couple hours, I felt pretty good and ready to do something—until I stood up. Walking was slow with frequent stops. I thought about my friend who has permanent breathing problems and have a new sense of what that is like for her. Walking up stairs, I felt like an old woman—really old like my grandmother when she was 90.

There really isn’t much in Jiaju, but it’s a lovely place to spend a day outside the cities. People came here for lunch or dinner. And it was a lovely place to relax since I couldn’t do much else anyway. It would have been interesting to walk around the village itself, but, of course, I didn’t make it there.

Sunday morning I slept till 10:00 again and was coughing a lot. One of the women came to the door and gave me medicine, which was sweet. I have to say, it did decrease the coughing quickly.

When I left, another woman gave me milk and two boiled eggs, the latter of which I turned down and the former of which I gave to a girl later. Then she took me to hitch a ride to Danba. The drive was lovely. I was so tired on Friday that I hadn’t really noticed.

Tagong (7-16)

Tuesday was travel day from Kangding to Tagong. When I had asked at the hostel about transportation to the minivans going to Tagong, the man mentioned that a private car would probably be too expensive (200 RMB/$33). That isn’t an unreasonable price; so I said I’d think about it and suggested that if others said they wanted to go there, maybe we could share. Then a woman sitting nearby said she and others had ordered a van or car and I could join them. Perfect. So Tuesday morning I went to the common room for our 10:00 departure and learned that it had been changed to 10:30. After that time we were told there was a traffic jam but the car was on its way. At 11:30 a car arrived and we were told that we would take two cars instead of the van that was expected—four people in one car and two in the other along with another passenger. During the wait, I chatted with the couple from England and France who are teaching at a middle school in Ya’an. They’re planning to make international teaching their career. Jennifer, the Canadian who invited me to join them, is in China to continue to study Mandarin, which she studied several years ago. The Argentineans who had been my neighbors at the hostel were in the other car. Our car had to wait until their car arrived so we could leave together. This was interesting because we didn’t stay together the rest of the trip, but we had to leave as a unit.

Tuesday was a rainy day. It drizzled or rained the whole trip. When we passed a sign pointing to a pullout to view the snowy peaks, there was no need to stop, as no mountains were visible. Only clouds. For the first hour and a half the road winds up the mountain. We passed a surprising number of bicyclists. I can’t imagine wanting to ride up that road. There were lots of trucks that we were constantly passing. After an hour and a quarter we reached the airport. After that the road is blocked so only a car can fit through the concrete barriers. I wondered where all the trucks were going. There wasn’t much traffic the rest of the way to Tagong. 

After an hour and a half, we reached the first pass—4298 meters/14,101 feet and stopped briefly, mostly because the man didn’t feel well from the altitude. I walked back to the temple just because it was there and we had stopped. It was barely visible in the cloud. 

After that, the rain was less and the grasslands were lovely. The road was quite potholed in some places and was flooded in a few places. 

At 2:00 we made a most-welcomed pit stop. The toilet was three slots in the concrete floor with partitions between them. The rest stop was a tourist place where people can sleep in a tent and ride horses in the grasslands.

The rest of the trip was in the grassland plateau. The green was beautiful even with the cloudy sky and rain. 

In several places we saw yaks

 as well as Tibetan prayer flags. 

We passed a few small villages with stone houses. 

We arrived in Tagong at 2:15. Since we left late, it seemed like a long trip. I was glad I had my snacks to share with the group and the driver.

The altitude of Tagong is 3800 meters/12,467 feet. The guesthouse I stayed in is above a shop; so that was one flight of stairs to walk up. After that, I realized that the public part is on the third floor, and I had to pause for a few minutes before tackling those stairs. After settling in my room, I went back upstairs to eat. I was surprised to see my companions, as they were staying in another hostel, but I was told that this café is where all foreigners eat. 

I had their momos with a mixture of fillings—potato, greens, and cottage cheese. They were much better than the momos in Kangding. After eating and relaxing, the others went shopping to find some warm clothes. Since it was raining and cold, I returned to my room to relax and have a quiet night. I did well with the altitude as long as I sat still

During the night and all day Wednesday, I was hit with altitude sickness. I barely ate breakfast and returned to my room to sleep all day. I remember having a bad headache when I was in Tibet years ago but being OK the morning. Not this time. In addition to sleeping all day, I had no appetite and had to make an effort to drink to keep hydrated.

Thursday morning Max strongly suggested that I move to his Swiss friend’s hostel that is 300 meters lower. I decided to take his advice after hiring a moto to take me to the nunnery outside town. I felt like I could walk a little while and wanted to see something other than the guesthouse. I had planned to walk there, as my friends did, but clearly walking was not on my agenda that day. 

So I had a minimal pastoral experience but was glad to have done some very slow walking in the grasslands. 

I enjoyed seeing the  houses 

and a few yaks close up. 

By the time I finished walking to the temple and back to where I started, I had been walking slowly for about three hours and was tired. More people were walking along the prayer wheels at this time of day. 

A few older women I came across took my hands and said something and let me take their photo.A man with a van picked me up along with three nuns who were going to town. I was very happy that he stopped for us.

I don’t think I saw the actual nunnery, but I enjoyed what I saw. Max had mentioned an old temple in front of the nunnery with a small café. I know I didn’t see that. I just started walking where the man dropped me off and enjoyed what I was able to see and do.

After checking out, the woman walked me to a car that would take me to my new hostel. Isabelle refers to her hostel and the local hospital, as guesthouses send their ill guests to her. She was very solicitous, and it was a great place to stay. My only regret was that I didn’t have more time in the pastoral setting along the river. The hostel is her husband’s family house. They live on the first floor, and rent rooms on the second and third floors. Isabelle and her husband and daughter live on the third floor. I also regretted not being able to be friendly and sociable, as they are very nice people with whom I would have enjoyed chatting.

Tagong town itself isn’t much to recommend. It’s a long, street filled with shops for tourists which are owned by Han Chinese. I’ve encountered this in other minority areas as well. There is a temple in town, but I didn’t have the energy to visit it. I’d have liked to walk through the grasslands to experience them and enjoy them more, but that wasn’t meant to be. I’m glad I was able to do the little walking I did.