Shangri-la, although lovely, is in fact not quite the utopia presented by James Hilton in his 1930s novel The Lost Horizon. It's definitely not Tibet, though, and in fact seems like something out of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon...very Ye Olde China. Densely packed houses with slightly tilted (vaguely pagoda-like) roofs, cobblestones streets, and lots of little old ladies who dance for the tourists every evening in the square., wearing traditional costumes. Ye Quaint Olde China, then.
The night we arrived was Cheryl's birthday, so dinner at a spacious and lovely place for the collective (though reduced) group. Debbie's back kept her away, as well. Dinner incorporated beer, dumplings, and chocolate pancake for the birthday girl. Complete with Chinese pink plastic candlething, which played music and kept playing despite being subtly placed in a cup of tea. The floral candle that keep going and going...energizer bunny of musical candles, at home in Shangri-la.
Next morning, Team Tiger Leaping went off for their trek (see David's previously detailed adventures). Meant to spend the day shopping in the many shops begging for our yuan, but a mis-timed case of traveller's tummy forced me back to the hotel (and a giant double bed...sigh) for a full day of lounging around on the wifi. Louise kept me company, laid out across the other end of the bed with the truck laptop. Spent the afternoon downloading Waylon Jennings and Aussie pop respectively. Laundry done--they just tossed the collective truck's clothes into one colossal pile. But for $2 a rucksack's worth, standards can be lowered.
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