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6 Days and 5 Nights of Spring Leisure in Jinghong Xishuangbanna

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Thu, 09 Apr 2026 18:17:00 +0000

Visiting Xishuangbanna in late March was a brilliant decision; our family of three returned completely fulfilled.

You might not believe it, but I actually ran a statistical analysis on historical flight prices from Hangzhou to Xishuangbanna. While there were no groundbreaking conclusions, I did spot four distinct price peaks: Spring Festival, the Water Splashing Festival, summer vacation, and National Day. The window between the Spring Festival and the Water Splashing Festival is a clear trough—possibly the lowest of the year. Taking time off to travel then offers incredible value.

I’ve always thought the map of Yunnan Province resembles a short-legged camel. Xishuangbanna sits at the southernmost tip—right on the camel’s hind leg—bordering Myanmar and Laos.

The Xishuangbanna Dai Autonomous Prefecture is vast, comprising three county-level divisions. Jinghong City is the capital and houses the only airport. While Menghai and Mengla counties offer Pu’er tea culture, botanical gardens, and border tours, we kept our family leisure trip strictly within the Jinghong area (the red circle). Our farthest excursion was to Wild Elephant Valley, just an hour’s drive away. For first-time visitors, this red circle easily packs a week’s worth of activities.

We arrived on the evening of Day 1 and kept things light. We grabbed some Dai-style rice noodles near our hotel—the combination of fresh mint and Sichuan peppercorns was absolutely phenomenal. Strolling down the palm-lined city streets, the tropical vibe hit us immediately.

Day 2: Primeval Forest Park & Gaozhuang

Primeval Forest Park

Located just outside Jinghong, this park features a narrow, linear layout—you walk to the end and head back the same way. From the entrance inward, it’s divided into three main stops: Golden Lake, Aini Village, and the Tropical Rainforest.

Aside from general sightseeing, each area hosts scheduled activities. Golden Lake features the signature peacock flight, Aini Village offers interactive folk dances, and the Tropical Rainforest hosts a mini water-splashing party.

We took the sightseeing buggy straight to the farthest point: the Tropical Rainforest. Stepping off, we passed through a food and shopping plaza into the monkey sanctuary.

Unlike traditional zoos, there are no visible fences here. It feels more like wild macaques have naturally gathered due to long-term feeding.

Further in lies the primeval forest loop, which eventually brings you back to the monkeys.

There’s also a paid jungle trekking course, but the minimum age is six, so my daughter couldn’t participate yet.

This rainforest is worlds apart from the woods back in Zhejiang. Thanks to abundant sunlight and rainfall, the vegetation is hyper-dense. Fierce competition forces trees to grow straight up; their trunks remain bare while all the foliage clusters high up in the canopy.

To support their massive weight and absorb surface water, these giants develop extensive root systems that boldly break through the soil. One root structure even looked exactly like a peacock’s flowing dress.

Undergrowth plants have their own survival tactics, evolving massive leaves to capture whatever sunlight trickles down. One banana leaf was larger than my daughter.

Even rough-barked trees are completely overrun by moss, wasting zero surface area. Despite the sunny weather, the rainforest is so humid that you can see water constantly dripping from the moss even at high noon.

The strangler fig is a quintessential feature of Xishuangbanna’s rainforest—a brutal display of botanical usurpation.

We all know banyan trees create their own mini-forests by dropping aerial roots that turn into new trunks. But do those aerial roots serve a purpose before hitting the dirt?

I used to think they didn’t, assuming the main tree supplied all the nutrients. However, a strangler fig’s aerial roots must function independently. Its seeds are deposited high in host trees via bird droppings, germinating in the humus of branch crevices. The aerial roots extract moisture directly from the air as they descend. Once they strike soil, they explode in growth, rapidly transforming into a fully grounded plant and thickening their exposed vines into massive wooden cages.

Often, multiple strangler figs colonize a single host, wrapping it from top to bottom, starving it of light and water. If their growing roots chafe against each other and expose their inner tissues, they can even fuse together, sharing water and nutrients in a process called “natural grafting.” Eventually, the host tree rots away inside, leaving the massive, hollow strangler fig complex standing in its place.

It’s not just the figs. Relentless vines creep everywhere, easily snapping thick bamboo. The flora here is ruthless, crushing competitors to claim dominance.

Next time you hear the phrase “law of the jungle,” don’t picture a polite, temperate forest—picture this tropical battlefield.

Leaving the rainforest zone, we crossed a suspension bridge into Aini Village.

The Hani people call themselves Aini, and this area showcases their culture through exhibits, artifact displays, and interactive dances. There’s also a somewhat out-of-place Dendrobium (orchid) pavilion.

While browsing the cultural boards, I made a fascinating discovery: they have a calendar operating on a base-13 cycle. A prime number!

Our modern astronomical calendars trace back to the Babylonian base-12/60 systems. We count to 10 on our fingers, but they used their hands differently. If you use your right thumb to count the three joints on your other four fingers, you easily count to 12 on one hand. For every 12 on the right hand, you raise one finger on the left hand. Five fingers on the left times 12 equals 60. That’s the origin of our 60-minute hours and 12-sign zodiac.

So, seeing a base-13 system blew my mind since it lacks an obvious anatomical basis.

After digging deeper, I realized it’s not strictly a base-13 mathematical system. A 13-day cycle begins and ends with the “Rat.” This reflects the Hani philosophical view of cycles: a cycle must overlap with the start of the next one to signify renewal and continuity. It’s much like a musical scale (Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Ti)—there are only seven distinct notes, but we always sing the eighth “Do” to complete the octave.

The Hani still operate on a 12-zodiac daily loop. Further research revealed their main traditional calendar is actually a 10-month system inherited from the ancient Qiang people. A year is divided into 10 months of 36 days each (exactly three 12-animal cycles). The remaining 5 or 6 days are artificially inserted as “New Year days.” Ultimately, it’s still rooted in a 10/12 framework.

Leaving the exhibits, we headed upstairs to the Aini Village plaza.

At one end was the Dendrobium pavilion, where I saw orchids growing directly on tree bark for the first time.

Visitors could join in on traditional bamboo-clapping and circle dances. Because many ethnic minorities in China share cultural roots, you’ll see variations of these dances across the Southwest.

We took the buggy back to Golden Lake for the peacock flight.

The event began with a lengthy over-water dance performance featuring themes like the Peacock Dance and the Dai King’s parade.

However, watching a massive flock of peacocks swoop down from the hills toward the stands was undeniably breathtaking.

Animal flight falls into three categories: powered flight, soaring, and gliding. Birds, bats, and insects use powered flight to actively overcome their weight. Eagles and albatrosses soar, utilizing thermal updrafts to stay aloft without flapping. Gliding is basically a controlled fall over a distance—which is what peacocks do. They can glide down from high places, but they have to walk back up.

That said, they can easily clear this lake, which makes them far superior to chickens.

Afterward, there was a paid feeding session. My daughter had a blast. The peacocks’ cyan and blue plumage looked spectacular in the warm sunset light. Peacocks and elephants are undoubtedly the twin animal superstars of Banna.

In hindsight, our itinerary here was flawed. I hadn’t checked the show schedules closely. The performances are highly overlapping; if you catch one, you automatically miss the others. This poor scheduling wasted over an hour and a half of our time just waiting around.

A smarter approach: catch a peacock flight right at the entrance, head straight to the rainforest (join the water splashing if interested), hit Aini Village, and then leave.

Gaozhuang and the Night Market

We grabbed a taxi to Gaozhuang and visited Wat Pha Sorn Kaew (the Grand Golden Stupa) after dinner.

Completed in 2013, it’s a completely modern temple that gets a facelift every year.

Free from historical constraints, the architects heavily integrated modern technology. The interior feels more like a luxury hotel than a traditional Theravada temple.

The extensive use of blue genuinely creates a serene, “pure land” atmosphere.

Being a modern structure, the lighting was clearly designed from the ground up. It looks best at night, so coming after dark was a huge win.

(A gallery of stunning night shots follows)

The stupa marks the highest point in central Gaozhuang, offering a bustling aerial view of the Starlight Night Market.

The periphery of Gaozhuang is lined with uniquely designed, towering hotels that frequently appear in Banna’s tourism ads.

Day 3: Ancient Village & Buddhist Temples

Mandiu Ancient Village

I specifically mapped out this niche destination. It’s a traditional Dai village that rarely makes it onto standard tour routes, offering a glimpse into more authentic local life.

We arrived just before the local morning market closed.

We lingered at a fruit stall, essentially turning it into an all-you-can-eat buffet of egg fruit, milk fruit, yellow dragon fruit, sugar apples, and tamarind.

The village has an old well. The pavilion above it is clearly new, but it captures the right aesthetic.

Despite being an “ancient” village, it’s not isolated in the deep woods. Locals embrace modern life; many homes are being converted into restaurants and guesthouses.

We caught a slice of local life: an elder sitting in the distance, playing a bamboo flute-like instrument.

Walking further uphill brought us to the ancient temple at the peak.

The exterior walls featured fascinating murals. Unlike typical Chinese Buddhist art, the style oddly evoked medieval European religious paintings.

Inside, there was a small blackboard, likely used for teaching Dai or Mandarin.

The Dai script is full of loops and hooks, distinctly different from Thai. Despite sharing cultural roots, the two languages diverged long ago and are mutually unintelligible today.

Outside stood a Bodhi tree. In Buddhism, it represents a portal to another realm, and its form here genuinely imparted a sense of inner peace.

Nearby was a small rubber plantation. My daughter always asks how things are made, so it was great to show her exactly where tires and pacifiers come from.

The village is compact and quiet, largely free of tourists, allowing us to soak in the tranquility.

Prajna Stupa

This is the largest silver-white stupa in Jinghong.

It’s just a stupa, not a temple, so there’s no interior to explore.

Smaller standalone statues surround it.

You simply walk the perimeter. It’s a bit out of the way, but since we had a chartered car, it was an easy detour.

Manting Park

Manting Park is a major urban hotspot. It encompasses the former Dai King’s palace, royal gardens, and an elephant education center.

Its true draw, however, is travel photography. Unlike active temples that enforce dress codes (no bare shoulders or knees), this park offers stunning Dai architecture with no wardrobe restrictions. The palace area was completely overrun by tourists dressed as “Dai maidens.”

The architecture we see today is a modern reconstruction. Personally, I think their obsession with gold outshines even the Ming and Qing emperors.

Artifacts are displayed outside the palace. As the “hometown of peacocks,” the bird’s motif is woven into every cultural facet.

Historically, this region was known as “Mengle” under the Dai kings. “Meng” means “place” in Dai, a prefix you’ll see everywhere on the map. “Le” simply refers to the Dai people.

Similarly, “Man” means “village,” as seen in Manzhang Village (“Zhang” meaning elephant). Dai grammar is interesting—the common noun comes first, and the distinguishing modifier follows.

Even the name “Xishuangbanna” translates to “Twelve Thousand Fields,” originating from a Ming Dynasty administrative tax division. It stuck.

Rushing to the elephant show, we passed a fig-like Ficus tree dropping fruit that looked exactly like figs inside.

The elephant conservation and education efforts here are commendable. (I’ll bundle the elephant facts into the Wild Elephant Valley section).

The presentations were entirely educational—focusing on feeding and health checks rather than unnatural, crowd-pleasing tricks.

At the end, the elephants splashed the audience in greeting.

We exited the elephant park and walked along the garden’s far bank, passing a small white stupa near the exit.

Wat Rajabhoj (Zongfosi)

Manting Park connects directly to Wat Rajabhoj.

Visiting during the day reveals layers of intricate details that are lost in the dark.

One gate in particular looked noticeably older than the rest.

I spotted a stone stele with unfamiliar characters—likely related to the life of the monk it memorializes.

In Dai culture, even dragons are depicted with elephant tusks and trunks.

Day 4: Wild Elephant Valley

This long, narrow park stretches from southeast to northwest. The southeast section houses the elephant enclosures and paid trekking. The middle section features tropical flora, fauna, and commercial areas. The vast northwest is a wild elephant habitat accessible by cable car and boardwalks.

Elephant Science & Rainforest Trekking

We booked the rainforest elephant trek and headed straight to the enclosures, catching another educational session while waiting.

Here, handlers inspected an elephant’s teeth. Elephants will only hold their mouths open like this for people they deeply trust.

Some fascinating facts we learned:

Elephants replace their teeth 5 times, maxing out at 6 sets. Wild elephants grind through them faster eating tough bamboo, usually dying around age 60 when the last set wears out. Captive elephants eat softer food and can live into their 80s.
Asian elephants have 5 front toes and 4 back toes; African savanna elephants have 4 front and 3 back.
Their digestive efficiency is terrible—only 40% of food is absorbed. During our trek, the elephant dropped fresh dung packed with undigested grass. Calves sometimes eat their mother’s dung to acquire essential digestive probiotics.
Asian elephants operate in matriarchal societies. Males leave the herd upon reaching adulthood.
The folding of an elephant’s ears indicates its age.
A trunk contains zero bones, only muscle. Its true dexterity comes from a small “finger” at the tip (Asian elephants have one, African elephants have two). This functions like a primate’s opposable thumb, allowing them to pick up objects as small as a soybean—a critical evolutionary trait for tool use.

The trek involved following an elephant through the rainforest, feeding it at a designated spot, snapping photos, and returning, all accompanied by expert commentary.

Afterward, we spotted a mother and calf on a side path.

Calves have to learn how to use their trunks; this one was playfully stepping on its own nose.

During the trek, tropical insects buzzed around us. A girl in our group screamed, thinking they were bees.

One landed on my hand. It was actually a hoverfly—a harmless, aphid-eating master of flight that mimics bees as a defense mechanism. Unlike bees, hoverflies can hover perfectly still and even fly backward.

Flora, Fauna & Folk Performances

We didn’t linger in the middle section.

We grabbed lunch and stumbled upon an ethnic performance featuring the Wa people’s intense hair-swinging dance.

On the way to the cable car, my daughter found a tiny snail in the orchid garden and happily carried it around.

Wild Elephant Habitat

A 30-minute cable car ride took us over several valleys to the summit.

From above, the rainforest looks like a chaotic, interconnected web of vines, making it hard to distinguish individual trees.

Compare that to this orderly bamboo forest I photographed in Anji, Zhejiang years ago. The competition here is far more subdued.

We scoured the water sources below for wild elephants.

Staff advised looking for heavy dung concentrations as indicators of frequent visits.

At the summit’s observation deck, my daughter and I geeked out over the extensive insect exhibits.

We spotted large red ants on nearby trees. I initially feared they were invasive, highly aggressive Red Imported Fire Ants, but they were actually native Weaver Ants, which build nests by folding leaves and are mostly defensive.

We didn’t see any wild elephants. The odds are notoriously low. You have to remember: we are just guests here. The elephants don’t exist to serve tourists. Our real job is to appreciate their environment and observe the incredible ecosystem in peace.

The boardwalk down featured brilliant exhibits on insect camouflage. We saw a “walking popcorn”—likely a planthopper nymph that secretes a massive waxy disguise to fool predators.

We somehow took a wrong turn and ended up exiting through the North Gate, passing a small theater playing adorable clips of local elephant sightings.

Day 5: Tropical Flowers Garden

A solid alternative to the further-out botanical gardens. It’s professionally zoned and culminates in a popular white sand beach. Our ticket included fish and deer feeding, plus a “miracle fruit” tasting.

The fish at the entrance were ravenous, practically climbing over each other out of the water for food.

Nearby was Torch Ginger, whose massive “petals” are actually bracts protecting tiny real flowers inside.

We saw tall, slender betel nut trees, a common sight in Jinghong.

And avenues lined with Royal Palms. It functions beautifully as a local walking park.

We caught a rubber-tapping demonstration. Kids loved poking and pulling the elastic, half-dried rubber.

We also found Cassia fistula pods (Sausage Tree). The shell is rock hard, but smashing it open revealed neat, segmented compartments.

At the fruit orchard, we tried the “miracle fruit.”

First, we tasted painfully sour lemons and papayas. Then, we ate the berry. Afterward, the sourness vanished completely—the lemons tasted like honey! The effect lasts up to half an hour.

A sudden tropical downpour trapped us for 20 minutes. It was actually quite pleasant. The rainforest is unique in that it essentially generates its own rain via massive transpiration from the dense canopy, creating a localized water cycle.

Post-rain, we explored the orchard, spotting Jabuticaba and Oleaster.

A local showed me the trick to picking Oleaster: the large, deep red ones are sweet, while the smaller, yellowish ones are incredibly astringent.

Across the bridge, the sun hitting the coconut terraces was stunning.

We also saw dense clusters of Thai cherry blossoms (actually a legume, not a true cherry or Thailand’s national flower).

My daughter played at the artificial white sand beach, which had a great Southeast Asian resort vibe and transitioned into a lively party spot at night.

Local Life & Logistics

Geography & Hotels

Xishuangbanna functions about an hour behind Beijing time socially; you easily find yourself eating dinner at 8 PM. In late March, temperatures ranged comfortably from 20-35°C with very few mosquitos.

I mapped out four main hotel zones:

Gaozhuang: Built for tourists. Luxury, nightlife, and heavy traffic jams. Skip if you want authentic local flavor.
City Center: Where we stayed. The heart of local life, great logistics, and minimal traffic.
Sunac Resort: A self-contained bubble for families who don’t plan to explore much.
Outskirts: Great budget options with few attractions nearby.

Transportation & Food

If you aren’t staying in Gaozhuang, chartering a car is essential. It guarantees a ride back from remote spots like Wild Elephant Valley, and local drivers offer invaluable tips.

Our driver recommended an incredible hillside restaurant overlooking Gaozhuang.

Our family loves Southeast Asian flavors—mint, lemongrass, curry—so Banna was culinary heaven.

We devoured Dai rice noodles, Myanmar street food (crispy banana pancakes, meat wraps, pounded chicken feet), and customizable bean soup breakfasts.

We also tried a wild mushroom hotpot. It’s strictly timed for 35 minutes to ensure toxins are cooked out, and they even keep a sample of the broth on file just in case! It tasted exactly like a rich “Buddha Jumps Over the Wall” broth.

Other highlights included stir-fried wild flowers, passion fruit fish, and an incredibly refreshing mint beef dish.

We even tried a deep-fried bug platter (bamboo worms, bee pupae, and cicadas)—mostly they just tasted like cooking oil.

Honestly, even if you skip the tourist sites and just walk around eating, it’s worth the trip.

Observations

Dai architecture is ubiquitous—gold and silver accents with sharp, soaring eaves on everything from airports to flea markets and even temporary construction sheds.

You hear two dominant accents here: the local Dai accent ending sentences with “ga,” and the Northeastern Chinese accent from the massive influx of drivers and service workers.

The air was sometimes hazy, a result of cross-border slash-and-burn farming in Laos.

We loved browsing the local farm markets, discovering everything from edible wild flowers to massive tilapia and pressed chili cakes.

Expenses Breakdown

Finally, here’s our expense breakdown. The trip totaled roughly 13,000 RMB.

Traveling during the off-season is the best. Flights accounted for half the budget, and the rest was well-balanced.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

A 6-Day Off-the-Beaten-Path Road Trip in West Inner Mongolia and North Ningxia

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Sat, 11 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

My daughter fell in love with the desert after our trip to Dunhuang last month. Ever since we got back, she’s been begging to go to Crescent Spring again.

Say no more!

However, a desert trip during the National Day holiday means avoiding tourist hotspots like Shapotou and Xiangshawan. After some research, I landed on a less-traveled route: Bayannur – Alxa – Wuhai – Shizuishan – Yinchuan. The entire drive was a breeze, with green routes on the map app all the way. The attractions weren’t crowded either. We spent two days playing in the sand and two days sightseeing, discovering a desert and Gobi landscape different from Dunhuang’s. This “reverse tourism” trip was a huge success.

Most of this route winds through western Inner Mongolia, with a small portion dipping into northern Ningxia. It largely follows the Yellow River through the western section of the Hetao Plain.

Inner Mongolia has a vast east-west span with diverse landscapes. The east boasts the Hulunbuir Grasslands, but since it’s north of Harbin, October is already winter. The grass turns yellow and it’s bone-chillingly cold. The central region offers both grasslands and deserts; Ulanqab’s Ulan Hada volcano was a close contender for this trip. But for a true desert experience, you have to head west. The four westernmost prefecture-level cities—Alxa, Bayannur, Wuhai, and Ordos—are the premier choices for desert adventures.

Day 1: Arriving in Bayannur

We flew from Hangzhou to Bayannur with a transfer in Beijing.

The flight from Beijing to Bayannur offered views of complex mountain terrain, likely over the Shanxi area if I recall correctly.

In Mongolian, Bayannur means “rich” (Bayan) “lake” (Nuur). As you travel through Inner Mongolia, you’ll encounter “Bayan” and “Nuur” frequently in place names. Other common Mongolian terms in place names include Hot (city), Gol (river), and Ulan (red), appearing in various combinations.

Bayannur is often shortened to “Ba League,” where “League” (盟) is an administrative division equivalent to a prefecture-level city. On your travels, you’ll also see many “Banners” (旗), such as Alxa Left Banner and Urat Rear Banner, which correspond to county-level cities.

I picked up the rental car at the airport. It’s been years since my last car rental trip, and I was surprised to find the process is now fully automated. You inspect the vehicle and unlock it all through your phone.

On my first road trip in Inner Mongolia, the bilingual road signs immediately caught my eye. Nearly every Chinese character was accompanied by Mongolian script.

Inner Mongolia uses the traditional Uyghur-style Mongolian script, an older form that resembles braided hair.

This is completely different from the Phags-pa script promoted by Kublai Khan, which was influenced by the Tibetan alphabet but is no longer a living language.

Meanwhile, the nation of Mongolia, due to influence from the former Soviet Union, adopted the Cyrillic alphabet (essentially Russian letters) for writing Mongolian. In recent years, there has been a push to revive the traditional script, and now both are used officially.

I don’t speak Mongolian, but after observing the script for a few days, I noticed a pattern. The number of characters doesn’t always match the Chinese. For proper nouns like place names, the Mongolian is often one long, continuous “braid,” regardless of the number of Chinese characters. However, for modern concepts like “County Government,” the word counts often align. I suspect these modern terms were phonetically transliterated from Chinese, creating this discrepancy.

I’m not sure if my theory holds water; I’d love for any Mongolian-speaking friends to shed some light on this.

Back to the journey. We checked into our hotel in Ba League that night. I had been picturing a city the size of Dunhuang, but as we drove into the urban area, I realized they were in different leagues entirely.

Dunhuang is a remote county-level city under Jiuquan’s jurisdiction. While famous for tourism, its scale and population are no match for the prefecture-level city of Bayannur. Ba League is filled with residential buildings over 20 stories high, generally taller than those in Hangzhou, giving it a vibe similar to cities in Guangdong or Fujian. A quick search showed Ba League has a population of 1.5 million, compared to Hangzhou’s roughly 10 million. That’s a considerable size for a non-provincial capital in the north.

Day 2: Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake

The adventure officially began.

The Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake is a very niche, off-the-radar spot. When we arrived, you couldn’t tell it was a national holiday. The low ticket price is a dead giveaway that this place is more for locals than tourists.

Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake lies at the foot of the Yin Mountains, that faint range you see in the distance—yes, the same ones from the famous ancient poem.

The scenic area has two parts. You first arrive at a lake area with various water and sand activities, mostly involving boats and vehicles, plus the obligatory camel rides. For my daughter, having sand, water, and camels was a perfect day.

A long ride on a desert bus takes you into the desert proper. This is where the real magic happens, deep in the Ulan Buh Desert. It was an experience that even the more popular spots later in the trip couldn’t match.

This area has fewer activities: sandboarding, archery, and go-karts. From the top of the sandboarding dune, you get a stunning panoramic view of the Ulan Buh Desert. Sandboarding is unlimited—sleds are scattered at the bottom for you to grab and use as you please. The go-karts are also a blast; I highly recommend a couple of laps.

This spot is on the way from Ba League to the Western Dream Canyon, so logically, it’s best to visit it en route to avoid backtracking. However, it takes a long time to fully enjoy, making it difficult to fit into a single day with other destinations, and there aren’t many good hotels nearby. I’d suggest skipping it if you’re traveling without kids or with older children, as Wuhai Lake offers a similar and more comprehensive experience.

But this day was all about my daughter’s fun in the sand. Other sights could wait. We left just before sunset and headed back to Ba League.

The drive back was scenic, with lush vegetation, small villages, and vast fields of reeds and sunflowers.

The suburbs here in the Hetao Plain are vastly different from those around Dunhuang. Dunhuang is surrounded by arid land with almost no agriculture. Here, thanks to the Yellow River, the plain is one of China’s key agricultural hubs. The villages we passed were all business, with shops selling seeds and offering farm equipment repair. Unlike rural areas in southern China, you won’t find “agritainment” or leisure farms here; everything is dedicated to supporting agriculture.

Day 3: Yin Mountains Drive & Western Dream Canyon

This was our longest day on the road.

We set off from Ba League and drove towards the Yin Mountains again. From this day forward, the weather turned overcast, adding a stark, desolate beauty to the landscape, though it wasn’t ideal for photography.

We passed Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake once more. The hazy air finally cleared as we reached the foot of the Yin Mountains, revealing their true form.

We drove along the southern foothills, which are quite steep. The northern slope, by contrast, is much gentler, gradually merging into the Inner Mongolian Plateau.

The Yin Mountains are a significant climatic divide, but in a counter-intuitive way. One would assume the sunny southern slope, which also gets the summer monsoon winds, would be more verdant. However, in this arid region, it’s not about how much moisture you get, but how much you can keep. The southern slope’s intense sun exposure causes rapid evaporation, while the shaded, cooler northern slope retains more moisture, supporting lush alpine grasslands.

It’s fascinating to imagine a completely different world thriving just behind these barren-looking peaks.

We spent most of the day driving along the base of the mountains, the reddish-brown range weaving in and out of view. I put on a Xu Wei playlist I’d prepared, and the vibe was just incredible—an experience I’ll never forget.

Our first stop was Jilu Fort, said to be where the famous Han dynasty lady-in-waiting, Wang Zhaojun, passed through on her way to marry a nomadic chieftain. This photo shows the landscape along the highway nearby, where you can see the varied colors and compositions of the Yin Mountains’ rock and soil.

We didn’t actually make it into the site, though, due to a small mishap.

Jilu Fort also serves as the base camp for an off-road event. But the navigation app didn’t seem to care, routing me as if I were in a 4x4. Things got sketchy fast—the path was leading us into a creek bed, which our standard sedan couldn’t handle.

I had to turn off the navigation and try to find the way myself by following tire tracks. My reward? Getting stuck in a seemingly harmless patch of sand.

By the time we were rescued an hour later, it was too late to visit. We took a closer look at the mountains and got back on the road.

We passed A’gui Temple and the Yin Mountain Rock Paintings without stopping, heading straight for our main destination: the Western Dream Canyon.

On the other side of the road lay a desert at the foot of the Yin Mountains. Despite the low-lying shrubs, the colors were astonishingly rich: various shades of green, yellow, orange, pink, and burgundy, all set against the white of the salt flats. It was as vibrant as any autumn forest.

We reached the Western Dream Canyon, a stunning Yardang landform carved by wind erosion. We had now officially entered Alxa League.

This spot was more popular, with more tourists, but it still didn’t feel crowded.

The area has three routes. The central path is the core attraction, where you drive a short distance before walking or taking a shuttle for an up-close look at the canyon. The left and right routes are full self-driving loops with scenery that’s grander in scale but a bit more monotonous.

The left-hand route climbs to a high plateau offering a wide-open view of a wind farm deep within the mountains. From here, you can clearly see the different colored rock layers of the Yin Mountains; only the deep red sandstone has been sculpted into canyons.

After our visit, we had another two-hour-plus drive to the city of Wuhai. This stretch was also spectacular. Before hitting the expressway, we drove a long road that cut straight through the Ulan Buh Desert, flanked by endless yellow sand and occasional, massive solar farms. Many of these roads were unnamed on the map, and one was simply called the “Desert-Crossing Highway.”

Day 4: Wuhai Lake

Wuhai Lake was a highlight of our trip, and the city of Wuhai itself left a fantastic impression. It was another day dedicated to playing in the sand.

Looking at a map, it’s surprising to find a city as compact as Wuhai in the vast expanse of Inner Mongolia. But its modern streets, towering skyscrapers, and “Meng C” license plate (indicating its importance) suggest this city is something special.

A bit of research revealed its history as a classic resource-based city, built on coal. Wuhai was formed by merging two areas, Wuda and Haibowan, which originally belonged to different leagues. Due to the rich coal deposits, both areas were elevated to city status before being combined into one.

Wuhai’s centerpiece, Wuhai Lake, is a marvel in itself. It was created by diverting water from the Yellow River into the Ulan Buh Desert, forming a massive man-made lake. The Yellow River flows into the lake from the south and exits from the north to continue its journey.

The east bank of the lake is home to the city and a free public riverside park where the tour boat docks are located. The west bank is the Wuhai Lake Scenic Area, which features a unique “thousand-island lake” landscape in the desert, accessible only by boat.

Being a national holiday, we waited in line for the boat for at least 40 minutes. However, the city had thoughtfully arranged for a live band and a clown to entertain the queue, who even interacted with tourists, asking where they were from. It was a nice touch.

Listening in, I realized nearly everyone was from neighboring provinces—Ningxia, Shaanxi, Gansu, Xinjiang—with a few from the northeast. I overheard one family from Shanghai, which, along with our family from Zhejiang, made us the only two from the south. It seems Wuhai isn’t quite a top-tier national tourist destination yet.

Once we disembarked, we were in the main activity area. The crowd from the boat quickly dispersed across the vast space, and it suddenly felt spacious again.

The whole place felt like an upgraded version of Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake. With huge expanses of both water and sand, the variety of activities is immense, surpassing even Dunhuang’s Mingsha Mountain. It’s a paradise for adventure seekers, with dune buggies, desert off-roading, helicopters, and speedboats.

There wasn’t much for my young daughter to do, though. We took a sightseeing shuttle to the far side of the dunes to walk along the famous desert highway.

A perfectly straight road cutting through the desert, pointing like a sword towards the distant city skyline and mountains.

Climbing a dune beside the road, the view towards the city was a stunning tapestry of layers: sand dunes, the lake, reed marshes, city skyscrapers, and Gande’er Mountain, creating five distinct horizontal lines. The human-like figure on the mountain peak is a colossal statue of Genghis Khan.

The scenery here is highly dependent on the weather; overcast skies don’t do it justice. But on a clear day, it must be breathtaking—the online photos are no exaggeration. Spring or summer might be the best times to visit.

For a phone photographer like me who sticks to auto mode, sunny weather is crucial in Wuhai. On a clear day, the lake reflects a brilliant blue sky. The contrast between that saturated blue and the yellow sand makes phone cameras produce incredibly vibrant photos. On an overcast day without any strong colors, the photos turn out flat and gray.

Take the top-right photo, for example. The bright red of the lighthouse and the blue of the floating bridge gave the camera’s algorithm enough color information to better capture what I saw, even rendering the sky’s gradient with more subtlety.

After the desert highway, we took a monster-wheeled truck to the lakeside to ride an amphibious vehicle. It was a gentle ride, and I even let my daughter drive the whole way. She’s had plenty of practice with kiddy cars at amusement parks and handled it like a pro.

We parked the vehicle and took a bamboo raft back to the main activity area. By then, the park was closing, and a light rain had started to fall. We took a quick camel ride before catching the boat back.

Wuhai Lake is a gathering place for countless red-billed gulls. They followed our boat on both trips, flying so close you felt you could almost touch them.

Our original plan for the evening was to drive to Shizuishan in Ningxia, to be closer to Shahu Lake, our next day’s destination. But given that Shahu Lake is similar to Wuhai Lake and we had spent a full, satisfying day here, we made a last-minute decision to stay another night in Wuhai.

Day 5: Shitanjing Town & Yinchuan

Since we were skipping Shizuishan and Shahu Lake, we picked an alternative from our list: the small town of Shitanjing.

Inner Mongolia truly lives up to its reputation as a wind power giant. The resources are abundant. Leaving Wuhai, we were constantly flanked by wind turbines; this was the closest we’d ever been to them.

Shitanjing Town is tucked deep in the Helan Mountains, on the road between Shizuishan and Yinchuan, and falls within Shizuishan’s administrative area.

Shizuishan is a bit like Wuhai. The two cities are neighbors, share similar natural resources, and were both elevated from counties to cities because of the coal industry. If Wuhai is Inner Mongolia’s “coal pearl,” Shizuishan is Ningxia’s industrial engine.

Shitanjing was once a booming coal mining base. Now, with its high-quality coal resources depleted, it has been repurposed as a film set. Its well-preserved 1960s architecture tells the story of that industrious era.

The town is tiny, just two intersecting streets. But this was once the bustling market for coal workers who came from all corners of the country, a place that added a little spice to their lives.

There are still businesses operating today, but now they serve tourists. With fewer than five restaurants, a handful of souvenir stalls, a couple of general stores, and a small exhibition hall, that’s the extent of it. The rest of the town is made up of empty, old buildings. On the outskirts, a few modern structures suggest some local industry still exists.

A kilometer away stand the abandoned miners’ dormitories, their windows now just dark, glassy voids. In the distance, the Helan Mountains stretch on endlessly.

As a film town, it has been the backdrop for many realist dramas. The only one I’ve seen is “Minning Town.”

This is one of the show’s filming locations, though I couldn’t for the life of me recognize the scene. The dilapidated houses resemble those in Yongquan Village. If this was indeed the setting, then the desert reclamation efforts over the years have been incredibly successful—the village in the show was completely barren.

Leaving Shitanjing, we drove a long stretch through the Helan Mountains. The rock layers, twisted by tectonic forces, have left wavy patterns etched into the mountainsides.

The Helan Mountains have many of these black rock strata. We also saw several active coal mines along the way, leading me to believe these black layers are rich in coal.

Once we left the mountains, we hit the expressway to Yinchuan. The desert and Gobi landscapes vanished completely, replaced by lush, green plains on both sides of the road.

This journey had taken us through a symphony of landscapes: farmland, Gobi, desert, the Yellow River, mountains, and plains. The scenery was ever-changing.

We arrived in Yinchuan, checked into our hotel, and headed out for dinner. Afterwards, we stumbled upon a National Day drone show during our walk. We were watching from behind, so all the images were mirrored.

But seriously, it’s a public holiday. Why are you showing me this?

Our walk took us to Yinchuan’s Drum Tower and the central pedestrian street.

Seeing the Drum Tower brought back a wave of memories from my Beijing trip a few years ago. It was the same season, the same temperature, another post-dinner stroll, and the architecture was strikingly similar.

The pedestrian street was packed. We decided not to brave the crowds, grabbed a few bottles of fresh milk, and taxied back to the hotel.

Day 6: The Journey Home

We didn’t plan any activities for our last day. Since the hotel didn’t offer breakfast anyway, we all slept in, filled up the car, returned it, and caught our flight back to Hangzhou.

You might be wondering why we drove to Yinchuan for our flight after visiting Shitanjing. The simple reason is that as a provincial capital, Yinchuan has direct flights. Flying from Shizuishan or Wuhai would have meant a layover of at least 1.5 hours. I’d much rather spend that time driving than sitting in an airport.

Trip Tidbits

Transportation

This was our first multi-city road trip with our daughter, covering about 400-500 kilometers. Thankfully, careful planning ensured each leg of the drive was under two hours, which was manageable for her and not too exhausting for me. One thing’s for sure: next time, I’m renting a car with cruise control. Manually maintaining speed is a real workout for your foot.

The attractions on this route are generally quite far from urban centers. Aside from Wuhai Lake, which is right in the city, most places were at least an hour’s drive from the nearest town. And since kids have no concept of time, we rarely hit the road before 11 a.m. This meant lunch was usually packed snacks or a big hotel breakfast that doubled as brunch.

Weather

During the National Day holiday, daytime temperatures in Ba League were a pleasant 20-25°C, with nights around 10°C. However, starting from our arrival in Wuhai, the weather turned overcast and chilly, with daytime highs dropping to around 15°C. It even rained on our last day in Yinchuan.

Food & Accommodation

Now, let’s talk about food. I’d read in travel guides that you can’t go wrong with beef and mutton in Inner Mongolia and Ningxia, and my experience confirmed it. Every meal was delicious. Even the hand-pulled mutton at the Yinchuan airport was so good we ordered a second large plate.

Curiously, the streets of Ba League had more shops selling duck necks and feet than mutton restaurants. A chain called “Lonely Duck” was as common as convenience stores. When I asked a local about it, she said, “We cook mutton at home all the time, so why would we go out for it?”

This local lady from Ba League gave us two excellent recommendations:

Laoniutou: A tiny, hard-to-find shop near a fire station that sells beef jerky. She insisted we buy the fresh jerky sold by weight, not the pre-packaged kind, and mentioned she buys it herself regularly. We got half a kilogram, and the rich, beefy flavor was so addictive we snacked on it throughout the trip.
Laoyangguan: A mutton hotpot restaurant just a few hundred meters from Laoniutou. We went there the night we got back from Ulan Buh Desert Sea Lake. We skipped the hotpot and ordered the hand-pulled mutton. The quality of the meat was superb; such a simple preparation was all it needed to be amazing.

I also have to recommend the Bolinhan Hotel in Wuhai. We booked it last minute when we decided to stay an extra night, and it turned out to be the best hotel of our entire trip, despite not being the most expensive. The bedding, amenities, and breakfast were all top-notch. The breakfast spread was fantastic, and the restaurant staff were incredibly warm and welcoming. It’s where I first tried savory Mongolian milk tea.

Next door to the hotel is Yanyun Casserole, a restaurant owned by the same hotel group. Trusting our “can’t-go-wrong-with-mutton” motto, we tried the radish & mutton casserole and the yellow tomato & beef casserole. Both were excellent.

We also kept encountering a local cold dish made primarily with bean sprouts. I found it delicious and refreshing and had it at several different restaurants.

All in all, our days consisted of a big breakfast and snacks for lunch, followed by a mutton feast for dinner every single night. I think I’ve had enough mutton to last me the next several months.

Trip Expenses

In the vast and sparsely populated northwest, transportation is the biggest cost. Airfare took the largest chunk, followed by the car rental.

Finally, two desert trips in just over a month have left me with plenty of memories to savor for a long time. It’s time for a change of pace for our next adventure. A beach island? A tropical rainforest? A winter wonderland?

Who knows? It’s the suspense that makes for a great surprise.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

Dunhuang Revisited - A 5-Day Family Trip

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 12 Sep 2025 00:28:00 +0000

It’s been four years since my last visit, and my daughter is finally old enough for a proper long-distance trip. The goal was to introduce her to the desert and Gobi, a landscape starkly different from the lush mountains and rivers of southern China.

Traveling with a kid raises the bar for transport and lodging. We narrowed it down to three well-established desert destinations: Mingsha Mountain in Dunhuang, Shapotou in Ningxia, and Xiangshawan in Inner Mongolia.

I’d been to Dunhuang before and written a detailed travelogue about it: Dunhuang Self-Drive 5 Days 4 Nights, covering all the main attractions.
Shapotou in Ningxia offers a unique combination of desert and the Yellow River.
Xiangshawan in Inner Mongolia is less scenic and more of a desert resort, but it’s commercially well-developed with plenty of attractions, including a water park.

After much discussion, my wife and I decided on a return trip to Dunhuang. Familiarity meant fewer potential pitfalls, plus we had a chance to visit the Yadan Geopark, which we missed last time. Having only been to the great Northwest once before, our decision to revisit the same city speaks volumes about its charm.

As of 2025, there’s a single direct flight from Hangzhou to Dunhuang, which departs in the afternoon and arrives in the evening. It was my daughter’s first flight, and she was thrilled.

Our itinerary dedicated the first and last days to travel, leaving us with three full days for exploring. We tackled the West Route to Yadan on day one, saving the next two for Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Lake.

West Thousand Buddha Caves

This was a stop along the West Route on our way to Yadan.

The famous Mogao Grottoes are also known as the Thousand Buddha Caves and are located east of Dunhuang. To the west lies a similar, smaller complex: the West Thousand Buddha Caves. For the average tourist who has already seen Mogao, a visit here isn’t essential, which explains the tranquility and lack of crowds.

We’ve visited Mogao before, and while our daughter is likely too young to appreciate the grottoes fully, giving her a quick glimpse was a good introduction. This place was perfect for that.

We joined a guided tour of four caves, where photography was forbidden. The statues here are more heavily damaged, but the murals are on par with those at Mogao. A few details were particularly striking and unique to this site:

The only tent-style grotto ceiling in all of Dunhuang, sloping down from a central beam in a nod to nomadic culture.
Partially restored statues from the Republic of China era, offering a rare look at their inner construction: a wooden core wrapped in straw and coated with mud.
A layered mural created by the Shazhou Uyghur regime. They whitewashed over original Sui and Tang dynasty frescoes to paint their own. Over the centuries, the whitewash has faded, allowing the older artwork to peek through, creating a fascinating overlap of two distinct artistic periods on a single wall.

Other features, like the predominantly male-like appearance of Sui dynasty Buddhas and the distinct representations of disciples Ananda and Kasyapa, are also seen at Mogao and serve as valuable resources for studying ancient history and fashion.

Yadan Geopark

Yadan is the final destination on the West Route, a road that literally ends there.

The first sight of Yadan is guaranteed to be awe-inspiring. Even for desert veterans, it’s an entirely new experience.

The perfectly flat terrain, the uniform horizontal textures of the yardang formations, and the vast, distant horizon combine to stretch one’s sense of space to the absolute limit. It’s a stunning display of order emerging from the chaos of nature.

The feeling is akin to gazing upon a sea of clouds from an airplane window.

The landscape’s formation is a story of natural order.

A diagram from Yadan’s official website clearly illustrates its geological evolution.

During the Middle Pleistocene (c. 300,000–100,000 years ago), this area was a freshwater lake that deposited perfectly level layers of soil. In the Late Pleistocene (c. 100,000–10,000 years ago), the land rose, the lake dried up, and the exposed layers were subjected to extreme temperature shifts. This, combined with persistent, powerful winds, began to carve the landscape much like water carves a canyon. The wind sculpted long, ridge-like yardangs, which were then further eroded into walls, towers, and pillars, destined to one day crumble back into dust.

The Yadan landscape is in a constant state of flux. What we see today is its geological prime. In tens of thousands of years, these magnificent structures will be gone.

Sightseeing Bus

The first leg of the tour is a bus ride with stops at designated viewpoints.

Our first stop was a police station built right into a yardang—a relic from the area’s initial development.

Many of the park’s yardangs have been named for things they resemble, the most striking being the “Peacock Standing Gracefully.” It’s remarkably lifelike. My daughter, however, was far more impressed by the swings at the rest stop, where we happily passed the time.

Of all the formations we saw, the most spectacular has to be the “West Sea Fleet,” a vast and rare collection of massive, ridge-like yardangs.

Here’s a GIF to give you a sense of the scale.

Vegetation is sparse here. Instead, black gravel acts as an anchor, securing the soil and protecting the landforms from wind erosion.

Electric Off-Road Vehicle

I’ve sketched a rough map; the red line is the bus route. It’s high-res enough to save. Based on my observations, there are at least three types of off-road vehicle experiences:

At the “Peacock” stop, there’s an “Off-Road Vehicle Station.” We skipped this one. Staff explained it follows the main road but allows you to stop anywhere. I suspect it takes the small blue loop on the map during the return journey.
At the start of the blue route, there’s another station where we rented a self-drive vehicle for ¥298. You can stop whenever you like but must stick to a designated gravel path. It’s a low-speed electric cart; the route takes about 20 minutes non-stop.
The electric cart route ends at the park’s prime sunset spot. Here, you’ll find more powerful off-roaders and boat-shaped “desert assault buses.” Staff said these could take you deep into the Gobi along the green route and back. I’m not sure how far in they go.

We took our time on the electric vehicle route, stopping frequently for photos and a Hami melon snack on the Gobi, turning a 20-minute ride into a nearly two-hour adventure.

A gallery to showcase the beauty of Yadan:

Former World of Warcraft players would surely appreciate my excitement, seeing landscapes reminiscent of The Barrens, Thousand Needles, and Shimmering Flats come to life. I felt an undeniable urge to just walk off into the deep Gobi alone.

While the park names these formations after familiar objects—some fitting, some a stretch—I believe that if you strip away human projections, its raw, natural form is a masterpiece of pure beauty.

Mingsha Mountain & Crescent Lake

We spent the next two days at Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Lake, an ideal desert playground for kids.

It’s rare to find a desert attraction so conveniently close to a city in China. It offers all the wildness and romance of the desert, yet it’s only a ten-minute taxi ride from our hotel. The ticket is valid for three consecutive days of unlimited entry, and it’s even free for residents of nearby cities like Jiuquan and Jiayuguan (check the official account for current policies).

The park has several gates, but the central one is the main entrance where taxis drop you off. The view upon entering is shown above, but it’s even more stunning at sunset. The interplay of light and shadow gives the dunes a dramatic, three-dimensional quality. I have more photos in my previous Dunhuang travelogue.

The park is split into two zones. The East Zone is geared towards adventure and “conquering nature,” with paid activities like hot air balloons, off-roading, and paragliding. The West Zone evokes the romance of the ancient Western Regions, featuring the camel camp, Crescent Lake, and sightseeing carts.

We had done the East Zone activities on our last trip, and they’re mostly unsuitable for young children, so we headed straight for the west. Under the midday sun, we found a shaded spot by Crescent Lake for our daughter to play freely in the sand.

This is one of my favorite spots in the park. Just out of frame to the lower left is Crescent Lake. The shape, layers, and curving ridge of this particular dune are perfect, projecting a sense of solitary power.

As the sun began to dip, we started exploring. My daughter absolutely loved the camels and rode one each day. Time was the only thing stopping her from going for another round.

We visited Crescent Lake and the Yuequan Pavilion on its shore. The small, lush courtyard feels wonderfully surreal set against the vast expanse of sand.

In the middle of the endless desert, this pristine little courtyard feels almost like a mirage.

From a vantage point above, the reflection of the towering dune in the water creates a stunning optical illusion, like a deep abyss.

For centuries, Crescent Lake has been sustained by natural groundwater. However, with the water table declining in recent years, the city of Dunhuang now artificially replenishes its groundwater to maintain the lake’s water level.

This small body of water supports a surprisingly vibrant ecosystem. We saw flocks of sparrows, a resident magpie, and even a stray cat.

As evening approached, the dunes began to take on a dramatic, three-dimensional texture. We decided to climb the nearest peak to watch night fall over the lake.

The dunes appear deceptively close. It’s only when you see the tiny silhouettes of people on the summit that you grasp their true scale.

We reached the top just in time to see the lights around Crescent Lake switch on, their glow complementing the fading sunset.

The nearby Crescent Lake Town is a new addition since our last visit. The park has added several new shows, which was a welcome surprise.

At 8:30 PM, the Starry Sky Concert kicked off in the town. There were no live singers, just a DJ playing a setlist over powerful speakers aimed at the dunes, with a host pumping up the energy. Tourists, glow sticks in hand, covered the entire hillside. The younger crowd belted out Power Station’s “Dang” with infectious enthusiasm during the mass singalong. I even saw a woman in her twenties, there by herself, spontaneously break into a street dance. Everyone was completely immersed, and the energy was contagious.

The concert was a surprise, as we had only intended to climb the dune for the view. On the other side, the rising moon illuminated a completely different world—one of perfect tranquility.

As the concert neared its end, a swarm of lights appeared from behind a distant dune. My first time seeing a drone show in person was here, in the middle of the desert.

The next day at the park was for more sand play and camel riding, but we had a “secret mission.” In the afternoon, we visited a photo studio outside the park where my wife and daughter got a “Feitian” (flying Apsara) makeover, transforming into an ethereal mother-daughter duo. These studios are everywhere and offer full photo packages, but we opted for just the costumes and makeup, with yours truly behind the lens.

We focused on portraits that day, so I didn’t take many landscape shots. After the photoshoot, we skipped the concert and headed back to the city for a celebratory dinner.

A Turbulent Return

On our last day, we had a flight back to Hangzhou. We chose a connecting flight through Lanzhou to avoid the early morning direct one. While the trip out was smooth, the return flights were uncomfortable. My daughter started feeling dizzy as we approached Lanzhou.

After a 30-minute rest in Lanzhou, we boarded the next plane. The descent into Hangzhou was turbulent, and my daughter succumbed to motion sickness.

To complicate matters, a thunderstorm was raging in Hangzhou. Our plane aborted its landing attempt at Xiaoshan Airport and had to divert to Wenzhou to wait for clearance. The Wenzhou airport was packed with other diverted flights, all queued up. After a long wait, the weather in Hangzhou finally cleared, and a 40-minute flight later, we landed.

By the time we got a taxi home, it was past 1 AM. We had spent over 10 hours on planes—as long as an international flight—leaving everyone drained. But my daughter’s motion sickness lingered. Halfway home, she got sick again all over the taxi, followed by several more episodes. We finally got home, cleaned up, and fell into bed after 2 AM.

She probably won’t want to get on a plane for a few years. But it was a test, and it was a clear sign that we’re not quite ready for long-haul international travel just yet.

Travel Notes

Visiting Dunhuang in early September is far more pleasant than in April, as you avoid the risk of sandstorms. Temperatures are about 10°C warmer, and a short-sleeved shirt with a light, long-sleeved sun-shirt is perfect for both day and night.

The West Route is a long haul. There are no public buses, and taxis won’t go that far, so your options are a tour, a chartered car, or self-driving. Yadan is a two-hour drive one-way from the city, and the basic park tour takes another two hours. If you go to Yadan, you’ll have time for at most one other stop on the route. It’s an incredible place for sunset, but with a young child’s bedtime and Dunhuang’s sunset being two hours later than Beijing time, we had to pass.

We chartered a car for the day and had a great chat with our local driver. I was surprised to learn that Dunhuang has hydropower; he used to work at one of the local stations. Despite the flat terrain, it plays a supporting role in Dunhuang’s energy mix.

The driver pointed out two common types of trees in the area: poplar and Lombardy poplar. The photo above was taken at the West Thousand Buddha Caves, so I’m not sure if these are the same. He explained that all the roadside trees are irrigated through underground pipes every 20 days or so. With maybe only five rainy days a year and rarely more than a drizzle, it’s a testament to the immense, unseen effort required to maintain greenery in a desert city.

Commercially, the Shazhou Night Market in downtown Dunhuang has grown exponentially in the last four years. What was once a single short food street is now a sprawling network of six or seven alleys filled with restaurants, souvenir shops, and photo studios.

Across from the market’s south gate, we stumbled upon a restaurant called “Chen Lao Ba Mutton Fen Tang.” We loved it so much we went twice, and our daughter ate heartily. The owner was incredibly passionate, coming over to explain the different cuts of lamb on our plate. Seeing us trim the fat off, he looked genuinely shocked and exclaimed, “But that’s the best part! What are you even eating?!”

An after-dinner stroll through the quiet local streets outside the market offered a novel and atmospheric experience, with their khaki-colored walls, warm yellow lamplight, and distinctly desert-like poplar trees.

A breakdown of our trip expenses:

After two trips, we feel we’ve now checked off all the major highlights of Dunhuang. Perhaps our next visit will be a stop on a grander Qinghai-Gansu loop tour—an adventure we’re already looking forward to.

When it comes to travel planning: honestly, there’s a simple, repeatable process. Once you string all the key elements together in the right sequence, the itinerary practically writes itself.

For the full breakdown, you can check out this article: A Step-by-Step Guide to Travel Planning.

Creating Custom Child Growth Charts in Excel

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Thu, 03 Aug 2023 14:30:00 +0000

This is about how I used Excel, data visualization, AI, statistics, and formulas to create a custom growth chart. I’ll explain everything clearly, even the basics.

Many parents use apps to track their baby’s height and weight. I only used that one feature. Installing a large app just for that felt wasteful. It was a perfect chance to use my Excel skills. It’s just data analysis, right? Excel can handle it!

System Planning

First, I needed a plan. Let’s see how growth curves work in parenting apps.

This is a growth curve from Baobaoshu (BabyTree). The 50% line is the median. If my baby’s height (or weight) is on this line, about half of babies are taller (or heavier) and half are shorter (or lighter). The 75% and 97% lines mean the height (or weight) exceeds 75% and 97% of babies of the same age. The 25% and 3% lines work similarly. This shows my baby’s growth compared to others.

I wanted a similar tool to:

Record my baby’s height and weight.
Query the normal height and weight range for each month.
Show how much my baby’s measurements deviate from the norm.

A chart or curve didn’t matter. The key was the third point: calculating and displaying the deviation intuitively. A diverging bar chart seemed suitable:

This chart compares two data sets in the same dimension.

For one data set, it shows direction and distance from a benchmark, often for positive and negative values.

This was perfect. I’d use the median as the benchmark, showing if my daughter’s height (or weight) was above or below it. The bar length would show the deviation. To simplify, I used symbols: a minus for below, a plus for above, with more symbols meaning greater deviation. Seeing “+++” or “—-” would signal a need to check her growth trend.

Preparing the Data

With a goal, I started working. First, the first two capabilities:

Record height and weight.
Query normal ranges.

Baby’s Growth Data

My baby’s data was in the Baobaoshu app (dates are omitted to protect my daughter’s birthday):

Baobaoshu doesn’t export data. Manual entry was an option, but there had to be a better way.

I took screenshots of the records and used an Android app, Screen Master, to stitch them into one long image.

Then, I used Baimiao OCR (https://web.baimiaoapp.com/) to extract the text:

The format was messy, but AI can handle that.

Done! I just copied it to Excel. Day age, month age, and age were automatically calculated by subtracting my daughter’s birthday from the recording date.

Normal Range Standards

Reference values are on the National Health Commission’s website. The 2022 standard, WS/T 423—2022, is the same source as Baobaoshu: http://www.nhc.gov.cn/fzs/s7848/202211/8b94606198e8457dafb3f8355135f1a3/files/e38068f0a62d4a1eb1bd451414444ec1.pdf

The data was in this format:

I’ll explain this table. We’ve covered the median. The key is “SD,” or Standard Deviation. It’s a basic statistical term. First, we need to understand normal distribution. The Health Commission’s statistics use a large sample size, measuring many children. Height and weight are random and, with a large enough sample, normally distributed around the average (or median, which is very close). A normal distribution looks like this:

The horizontal axis is height (or weight), and the vertical axis is the number of children. The center dashed line is the median. Most children are near the median. Fewer children are at the extremes.

Standard deviation is the distance between the dashed lines, which are equally spaced. It’s like a ruler for the normal distribution. It tells us the proportion of data within a range. For example, 68% of children are within one standard deviation above and below the median; 95% are within two.

Standard deviation is a key property of normal distribution. Proportions for 1, 2, and 3 standard deviations are always 68%, 95%, and 99.7%. Knowing the average (or median) and standard deviation lets us find any data point’s position.

I copied the table to Excel and converted all ages to months:

The table shows the median and values at 1, 2, and 3 standard deviations above and below it. This helps me see where my daughter’s measurements fall and how much they deviate.

Drawing the Curve

Now, the hard part: showing how much my baby’s measurements deviate from the normal range. This requires real Excel skills.

I had two tables: my baby’s data and the reference ranges. I needed to add deviation columns, query the reference table, calculate the deviation, and show it with plus and minus signs. Minuses would be right-aligned in the left column, and pluses left-aligned in the right, creating a simplified diverging bar chart.

Matching the Reference Month

In theory, this is simple: use VLOOKUP to match the month, then nested IFs to compare and output symbols.

But the National Health Commission table has gaps:

From 2 years old, data is provided every 3 months. This is reasonable, as growth slows. But it affects querying. At 25 months, a direct VLOOKUP finds nothing.

One workaround is to manually complete the reference table, adding missing months and using values from younger months (e.g., using 24-month values for 25 and 26 months).

But I wanted intelligent matching!

So, I added a hidden column to find the corresponding reference month for each row.

The formula for this column is:

=IF(ISBLANK(A2),"",INDEX('生长对照表'!A$3:A$46,COUNTIFS('生长对照表'!A$3:A$46,"<="&C2),0))

In plain English, the formula checks if the date is blank. If so, the cell is empty. Otherwise, it counts rows in the reference table with months less than or equal to the baby’s age, effectively “matching down.”

Before two years, the baby’s age matches the reference age. I tested this; a 25-month record will match the 24-month reference.

Calculating Deviation

The reference month column handles mismatches, so we can calculate deviations.

The “height below average” column formula serves as an example:

=IF(ISBLANK(F2),"",IF(F2>VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,12),"",IF(F2=VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,12),"=",REPT("-",5-RANK(F2,{F2,VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,11),VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,10),VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,9)},1)))))

Okay, this formula looks insane. Let’s break it down, layer by layer, starting from the outside:

Layer 1

=IF(ISBLANK(F2),"",IF(F2>VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,12),"",IF(F2=VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,12),"=",Layer 2)))

This part first checks if the height column (F2) is empty. If so, this cell is also empty. Otherwise, it compares F2 with the corresponding median height from the reference table. If F2 is greater than the median, the cell remains blank (as this column only shows negative deviations). If F2 equals the median, it displays “=”. If F2 is less than the median, the second layer calculates the number of “-” signs to output.

Layer 2

REPT("-",Layer 3)

I initially planned to use nested IF statements to determine the number of minus signs, but that seemed a bit silly. Here’s a simpler approach: The REPT function can repeat a string a specified number of times. Now, the problem is passed to the third layer: calculating the number of minus signs to output.

Layer 3

5-RANK(F2,{F2,VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,11),VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,10),VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,9)},1)

Here’s a hidden gem in Excel: array constants. We often use ranges in formulas, which are implicitly arrays. But did you know you can create arrays manually, like in programming, using curly braces {}? For instance, {1,2,3,4} in a formula is the same as:

Array constants are far more flexible. You can combine seemingly unrelated data. Just look at what’s inside the {}:

{F2,VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,11),VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,10),VLOOKUP(E2,'生长对照表'!A$3:O$46,9)}

This array combines my baby’s height (F2) with the heights at -1, -2, and -3 standard deviations from the mean.

RANK(F2,Array,1)

Next, RANK sorts my baby’s height among those four values, ascending. Subtracting the rank from 5 gives the number of minus signs. Why 5? Think it through based on different scenarios, and it’ll become clear.

I used a similar approach for the other three deviation columns. It works perfectly. The number of symbols indicates the standard deviation range. 95% of children fall within two standard deviations, so two symbols are fine. All good so far!

Data Visualization

For data visualization, I need to highlight key data. The plus and minus signs are basic.

I don’t need fancy graphics. To flag outliers, I just replaced the pluses and minuses with distinct symbols and added simple conditional formatting for background colors. That’s enough for me.

Three symbols mean the measurements are outside the 95% range – I use yellow. Four symbols mean outside 99.7% – I use red. I manually adjusted a few extreme values for demonstration:

Wrap-up

Finished! Time to uninstall that parenting app. I happily clicked the “x”.

There are many growth trackers, but building my own is uniquely satisfying. I learned about arrays, REPT, and RANK on the fly – a great experience. The initial planning was the most interesting. Once started, it took just an hour.

It shows the power of combining knowledge, tools, and techniques. Improvise, adapt, overcome.

I should mention I prefer Google Sheets. Replicating this in Excel might require tweaks, but the formulas are similar.

[2024.1.18 Update] I’ve received requests for the spreadsheet. Converting to Excel had issues: Excel doesn’t support array constants as a RANK range, and you can’t reference other cells within them. Doing this in Excel is harder, likely needing many nested IFs. I recommend Feishu sheets or Google Sheets.

I’ve made boy/girl versions available.

Boy version: https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/JlMKw1NiBis8yok62BJcbCZ3n2d?from=from_copylink

Girl version: https://my.feishu.cn/wiki/RKHuwkXafiS987kLxPIc8jkxnAc?from=from_copylink

My Daughter's New Game and Topology

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Wed, 25 Jan 2023 23:05:00 +0000

We discovered a new game, and my daughter is obsessed. I push a bottle into one end of a massage roller, and it slides out the other, landing in front of her. She soon joins in, picking up the bottle and pushing it back through. I lift the roller, give it a spin to change the bottle’s direction, and let it drop before her again. She giggles.

After a few rounds, she grabs the roller and peers inside. From the other end, I keep taking the bottle and returning it. I also flick the bottle, making it jump towards her inside the tube. She squeals with laughter.

It got me thinking: maybe tube shapes are uncommon for babies, both now and for babies in prehistoric times. Topologically speaking (that branch of math about counting holes), most toys and dishes she sees are basically discs. Only a few, like instant noodle bowls with handles, are topologically donuts.

To her, a disc is closed. Things just pass by. But with a donut shape, things can move two ways: passing by or going through the hole. Going through, to her, means interacting – entering and exiting. The tube’s larger internal space makes this even more apparent.

The bottle disappearing and reappearing probably seems magical. After grabbing the roller, she might’ve sensed the magic of this shape with a hole.

Okay, full disclosure: I’m probably overthinking the math. Maybe she just likes the bottle, hahaha.

How to Eat Crucian Carp Like a Pro

hi@victor42.work (Victor42) — Fri, 12 Aug 2022 17:14:00 +0000

This is a guide on eating skills, filed under Food for now.

My daughter’s not even teething, but I’m already planning to teach her expert crucian carp eating. It’s a family tradition. So, I’ve detailed how to eat crucian carp bonelessly, step-by-step.

People bad at eating freshwater fish often think the tiny bones in crucian carp are random. They’re not! These are intermuscular bones, providing extra swimming power. They’re neatly arranged. The solid black lines in the image show this. The skeleton isn’t a crucian carp’s, but it’s close.

The spine is the core. The curved, long belly bones are like ribs, protecting organs. They’re easily removed. The shorter, straighter spine bones are hard to break, staying out of your mouth. All vertebrates share this: spine for support, ribs for protection. A snake skeleton shows this clearly.

The troublesome bones are the intermuscular ones attached to the flesh. They’re forked, but usually have a main stem. The stem is thicker; the forks are thinner. You won’t find snowflake-shaped bones. Because of the main stem, there’s a universal method to separate them, applicable to many fish.

Here’s the technique: Take a bite containing bones. Don’t chomp down. Use your tongue and palate to flatten the fish, like a thin pancake. Don’t over-flatten it, as shown. The bone tips will slightly protrude, easily located by your tongue.

Roll the flattened fish with your tongue, like a Swiss roll, maintaining thickness. Bones not pointing directly at your tongue won’t prick. The main stem ensures even perpendicular bones align during rolling. You now have a fish roll with bones pointing uniformly.

Push the roll forward with your tongue, aligning your front teeth with the roll’s center. Bite. Your gums are safe, and your teeth hold the bones. Like eating a skewer, scrape the flesh with your tongue. Scrape one side, flip, and repeat.

Success! Flesh and bones are separated. Spit out the bones.

This works mathematically: 3D line segments become 2D, then 1D. Complexity simplifies; chaos orders; it’s manageable.

That’s my plan for teaching my daughter. Detailed, right? It might not work perfectly. “Dad, can we switch to flounder?” is a possibility.

Side note: Why are sea fish boneless? It’s about fish evolution. Fish began in the sea, lacking intermuscular bones. Later, some evolved these for power, gaining an edge. They became standard. Some entered freshwater, evolving further. Some developed elastic proteins instead of bones, becoming faster. In the ocean’s predator-prey race, these fast fish shed intermuscular bones, maximizing protein use. Thus, most sea fish are firmer. Freshwater fish, in smaller waters, evolved differently, keeping many intermuscular bones.

Chinese scientists found the gene controlling intermuscular bone growth in crucian carp. Mutating it creates boneless fish. It’s not commercial yet, so hopefully, this guide remains useful.