The Pagodas

Glenn and I left the hotel early to get a close look at Dali's famed three pagodas that we could only glance at the day before. They are indeed magnificent buildings, but sadly the common tourist is only allowed to appreciate them from the outside. Luckily for us, like many Buddhist (and Shinto) structures, their shine comes mostly from the understated elegance of their surroundings: smooth stone roads insinuating tranquil gardens where free-flowing nature coexists with human architecture’s sharp edges, both somehow making the other more beautiful.

Midday found us on a long, slow bus ride to Lijiang, which cruelly lacked the televised violence that had made time fly in Leshan. I usually avoid reading on busses because it always gives me a severe headache, but there are only so many rice paddies one needs to see before he gets the general idea, so I took refuge inside the prose of Jen Lin-Liu in order to avoid death from boredom.

Lijiang turned out surprisingly nice. It is obviously just as fraudulently "preserved" as Dali, but for some reason it bothered me much less. The light was absolutely stunning. The afternoon sun bathed everything in golden warmth, from the street stalls to the fall leaves and the snow-capped mountains in the distance, and managed to make even pig carcasses almost fetching.

Especially agreeable was our much-too-short walk around Black Dragon Pool, a perfect mirror lake adorned with marble bridges and delicate pagodas and surrounded by rivers and glades that are way more gorgeous than my clumsy words can ever hope to convey. As the sun slowly set, we walked back to our hotel without even looking for supper. The day had ended gloriously, and there didn't seem to be any way to improve it, so we ended on a high note and eager hope for what tomorrow would bring.