DIY Zhangjiajie Travelogue: Zhangjiajie in My Dreams
It's been a long time since I put pen to paper. Every time I pick up the pen, I'm moved—scenes flash by, so beautiful, Zhangjiajie. After browsing online, I was exhausted; there's so much about DIY Zhangjiajie trips that I didn't know where to start. I took a break in my Baidu Space, and an article appeared before me—just a few words and a picture—carrying me away...
This article is compiled from the original travel notes on the "Zhangjiajie Tour Guide Network" (33519.com); it is a record of trips from earlier years. Time-sensitive information such as ticket prices, schedules, and accommodation prices is subject to the latest announcements from scenic areas and transportation authorities; the itinerary ideas and attraction introductions still have reference value.
I had not written for a long time. Every time I pick up the pen, I am moved. The images flash swiftly—so beautiful, Zhangjiajie.
I wandered around online and was too tired. There was too much information about independent travel in Zhangjiajie, and I did not know where was best. I went to my Baidu Space nest to rest, and an article appeared before my eyes. Just a few words, plus a picture, brought me into the scene. Naturally, I made my choice: it was him. Not for anything else, but for the landscape in those words, for the Zhangjiajie in my dreams.
The whole family set out on the journey of dreams. Guide Xiao Zhao came to pick us up early. In the car, Xiao Zhao said: 'Let me briefly introduce Zhangjiajie.' Zhangjiajie, formerly Dayong, the ancient Yong State
location, and also the land of the Southern Barbarians in history. The person before you is a Southern Barbarian. That is the introduction. Thank you, applause! Ha... it really was a simple introduction. As the car drove over a bridge, my son asked about the river. Xiao Zhao said again: 'This is the Li River, Zhangjiajie's mother river. As early as the late primitive society, people already lived here. This bridge is called Guanyin Bridge, meaning that passersby may be safe and sound.' Thus began our journey. Let me explain: the guide taking us around, Xiao Zhao, gender: male, nominal age: ??? (when asked, he said a man's age is written on his face. My son looked him up and down, then seriously said, young man, about 20, right~~~~~)
Golden Whip Stream—the stream flows long, clear to the bottom, fish coming and going, winding away into the secluded forest. I saw it, I saw the Golden Whip Stream from my dreams. Moving forward along the path, following the stream into the mountains and woods, barefoot, stepping on small pebbles, smelling the scent of green grass—no, it was green, a whole expanse of green. It entered my mind, and I smelled it. Xiao Zhao explained each scenic spot along the way, one spot, one story, one dream. Scenery is beautiful in being enjoyed; things have spirit in being observed. Among them, the story of the scenic spot Cleaving the Mountain to Save the Mother shook my son's heart. A story he had only seen on the phone, now he saw it himself: Drunken Arhat, Divine Eagle Guarding the Whip, Golden Whip Rock, Huaguo Mountain, Water Curtain Cave, Cleaving the Mountain to Save the Mother, Meeting After a Thousand Miles, Nanmu Flat, Water Winding Around Four Gates. Walking all the way, there was nothing but shock after shock. I did not know how to describe it. Finally, my son said one sentence: 'Dad, I think I'm in love.' Yes, wasn't that exactly what I wanted to express?
We took the elevator, spending 56 yuan per person, up to Yuanjiajie. After walking for more than a few minutes and resting for a while, we threw ourselves into Yuanjiajie's embrace. Standing on the 'Number One Bridge Under Heaven,' rare in the world for its height, span, and thrill, I felt as if looking down on all living beings. My son loudly recited beside me, 'To count the great heroes, we must look to today.' At this, I knew this trip to Zhangjiajie was worth it. Four hundred meters east of Number One Bridge Under Heaven is Soul-Enchanting Terrace. The terrace has two levels. The first level slopes gently from east to west, about 100 square meters. The second level is about 2 meters lower than the first and is a stone slab extending horizontally in the air, closely connected to the first level. Sitting on the terrace, one can see Golden Whip Stream and Shadao Valley competing in wonder. Clouds and mist stirred there, and the mountains appeared and disappeared unpredictably, like a beautiful fairyland in the forest. This day ended with that. We returned to the inn and called it a day.
The next day, just as the sky began to brighten, the sun cleared its throat and called the earth awake. Getting up, what we saw was the sun's fiery red bottom weaving through the woods, rousing the whole village. In the green mist of the mountain forest, a few murmurs of people, and the fragmented chatter of birdsong. An early-rising young man opened his throat and sang a love song—the song, long and drawn-out; the love, rich in fragrance—carried into the distance. That day we visited: Tianzi Mountain's Grand Viewing Platform—One Step Is Hard to Walk—Divine Chicken Pecking Food—Immortal Bridge—Tianzi Seat—Wulong Village—Tianbo Mansion—One Step to Heaven—Sky Corridor. The scenery at Tianbo Mansion and the Sky Corridor is, in a word, "superb"—those afraid of heights should be cautious! Before we even reached Tianbo Mansion, something happened: my son said he wanted to play the bandit king for once, so he decided to take a sedan chair up. But when it came time to come down, an argument broke out—could we really have run into bandits? Xiao Zhao was there trying to mediate. The issue was that they had agreed on 60 yuan, but hadn't specified whether it included carrying him up and down. So there was a catch in all this—everyone be careful in the future, and make things clear in advance.
The third day: Shentang Bay—Point General Terrace—He Long Park—Imperial Brush Peak—Fairy Maiden Presenting Flowers—Ten-Mile Gallery. After coming out of the Ten-Mile Gallery, we returned to the Wulingyuan entrance. To be honest, Zhangjiajie's commercial atmosphere is already quite strong, and prices are rather high. Only from our guide could we experience the genuine simplicity of the local Tujia people. The scenic area within Zhangjiajie is very large, and between attractions you can take the free shuttle buses within the park. They are supposed to stop whenever a visitor waves, otherwise you can file a complaint. Once, while we were waiting for a bus, it didn't stop. On its way down the mountain, the driver even made a special stop to explain that the bus had been full, which was why it hadn't stopped.
In sum, in short, Zhangjiajie, you are too beautiful.