Discovering Gansu's diversity, from Lanzhou to Gannan
With higher altitude, the sky took on an intense blue as we drove above the treeline and onto a plateau of extensive upland grazing where shepherds looked over herds of sheep, goats and yaks. In the distance rose snow-capped peaks, and ahead lay the compact prefectural capital of Hezuo.
Overlooking the town is the 13-story 17th century reddish-brown Milaraiba Tower. Walking through its intricate entrance I emerged beyond a curtained gateway. It was a long climb up each floor, lit by flickering lamps. Overwhelmed, I came out onto the roof surrounded by many "golden" temple artifacts. Beyond lay the low-rise dwellings of this remote town surrounded by gentle green grassy slopes. For me, a hill walker, the temptation was too much and soon I was following a path leading above the urban confines. I found myself walking amidst white prayer flags grouped around a small squat temple. Soon I reached the wide ridge where a monk sat nearby in gentle contemplation. Sitting there for almost an hour, I gazed across a spellbinding landscape of upland cultivation terraces peppered with spreads of pastoral grazing. It felt so tranquil, pierced only by the clonking of wooden bells from the necks of larger animals.
Reluctantly I descended back to town for dinner before again wandering streets clustered with monks and locals shopping by bicycle. There was a mixture of people from various backgrounds and religions, all sharing a remote town high on a grassy upland between Gansu and Sichuan. As it got colder, I headed to a Hui restaurant where Hong Kong music was playing. An older Muslim man with a long beard tried to converse with me, just as some Tibetan youths came in and began playing beautiful music on two-stringed erhu. A lovely ending to my first day in Gannan.
