It was Australia Day, we felt it was our National duty to hunt down other Australians, dig up our inner bogan, subject other travellers to horrible renditions of Aussie Rock and drink too much beer. Disregarding the true importance of Australia’s National Holiday, like the majority of Australians, and treating it as a good excuse to party, we kept ourselves nice and stuck to beer. No one was hurt, our dignity was still intact and it was time to walk home.

But then the craving for kebabs was mentioned. Clearly Andres has lived in Australia long enough to develop the 2am habit of stopping for some meat before crashing in to a peaceful inebriated slumber. And it just so happens that Dali does excellent street bbq until the wee hours of the morning.

What we didn’t anticipate at one of the many bbq dens was a table of rowdy Chinese people knocking back the Baijiu. It was only Andres and I, plus a table of twelve very drunk locals. Smiles ensued. Where are you from?, and the usual banter followed.

You want some Baijiu? offered a funky Buddhist with dark rimmed glasses and an over excited devilish grin.

Andres didn’t stand a chance against the pure white alcohol demons.

For once I was being unusually sensible and declined adamantly from the beginning. From the look of that clear liquid things were going to get messy, fast, and we were a long walk from home down many confusing dark alleys. I had a rare moment of responsibility.

Andres took to the challenge like a Colombian faced with a litre of his country’s finest firewater. One by one each man at the table insisted on having a celebratory shot with the friendly foreigner speaking in a strange Mandarin accent.

This is what happened.

Kris

Spring has been slipping quietly in to the dark and windy corners of Dali and whispering her delight in the change of season. The fields are starting to laugh as pink blossoms, yellow fields and white magnolias transform the countryside.

Slowly, slowly, the sun has been warming up our Wintery bones and the atmosphere is becoming more infectious and alive. It’s a beautiful time of year in Southern China as the promise of longer days and brighter skies begins to unfold.

Cycling through the villages that survive on the generosity of nearby Erhai Lake, it’s easy to imagine the earth drinking hungrily from the water, gaining strength and gathering herself for the green days ahead.

With a history that dates back more than 5,000 years, some of the outer lying villages of Dali coexist simply with nature through farming. It’s humbling to see how ancient trees that stand homage to the passing of time are beginning to offer up shade for yet another year.

Kris

If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change. Buddha

These photos are especially for my nature loving sister Natalie.

Chinese people certainly know how to party!

On the eve of the Dragon New Year anarchy reigned supreme. As the good folk of Dali set off every firecracker they could get their hands on, from super rockets that lit up the night sky, to tiny throw downs and huge boxes of noise reminiscent of battle; it was often hard to see through thick clouds of burning phosphorous. Some firecrackers were even inserted in to tomatoes to add to the general red mess.

At times it was scary, but good scary, as some drunken revelers threw all caution to the wind and held twelve ball shooters like guns and fired in to the masses. This cracker craziness started in the day and was pretty much relentless until the following morning. Good childish times were had by all.But there’s more to the festivities than fireworks; eating was easily the highlight of our celebrations. Before we set out for the night we were fortunate to share a meal cooked by some Chinese friends. And even though we broke with tradition and shared a tasty hot pot meal, the atmosphere was still very festive.

Normally for the new year’s eve meal, otherwise known as the reunion dinner, there are a several dishes that are significant in Chinese culture;

Buddha’s delight (luóhànzhāi) An elaborate vegetarian dish served by Chinese families on the eve and the first day of the New Year. It’s a type of black, hair-like algae, pronounced fat choy in Cantonese, the name of the dish sounds like prosperity, and you know how Chinese are in to that.

Fish is usually eaten or merely displayed on the eve of Chinese New Year; the pronunciation of fish in Mandarin sounds like surpluses.

Leek Is usually served in a dish with round pieces of Chinese sausage. The pronunciation of leek sounds like calculating (money), and the type of sausage is chosen because it is traditionally the best way for storing meat over the winter, as well as the slices resembling coins.

Dumplings (Jiaozi) are eaten traditionally at midnight and Chinese people believe the preparation is similar to packaging luck inside the dumpling. Some families insert one coin in to their dumplings and the person who receives the ‘lucky’ dumpling is meant to have good fortune in the coming year.

Mandarin oranges are the most popular and abundant fruit during Chinese New Year – the translation of golden tangerine or orange sounds like luck or fortune in Mandarin.

Melon seeds (guāzi) and variations including sunflower, pumpkin and other seeds symbolize fertility and having many children. It seems to be the most common snack with a celebratory beer or plum wine. The ideal combination for making babies!

Noodles Families sometimes serve uncut noodles as one of the many dishes on the table, because they represent longevity and long life.

Turnip cakes (luóbogāo) A dish made of shredded red radish and rice flour, is usually fried and then cut into small squares. Vegetables like radish and red carrots are used a lot at this time of year due to their lucky colour.

Bakkwa (ròugān) Is a Chinese salty-sweet dried meat, sort of like jerky, which is trimmed of fat, sliced, marinated and then smoked for later consumption or given as a new year gift.

Raw fish salad (Yusheng or Yee sang) Eating this salad is said to bring good luck, it’s usually eaten on the seventh day of the New Year, but may also be eaten throughout the entire Spring Festival period.

For us, simply eating anything with friends and wandering in to the night was special; being part of the general atmosphere and chaos was an experience we are unlikely to forget. And two days on it looks like the party isn’t slowing up any day soon!

Kris

I was too cautious to venture in to the chaos with my camera at night, but our friend from The States – Trygve – wasn’t concerned. These dynamic night time photos are courtesy of Tryg, who is currently travelling long term with a friend through Asia. You can read more about their journey here.

As Chinese communities around the world prepare for the Dragon New Year, we’re feeling pretty excited to have a front seat to all the action. The streets are heaving with people shopping for new clothes, buying up special foods at the market and painting their doors with a fresh coat of lucky red.

The mood in town is also hotting up as kids delight in scaring passers-by with throw down firecrackers. People are scurrying past with bouquets of lucky bamboo, red camelias and pussy willow branches dyed red.

Considering how highly esteemed the colour red is in Chinese tradition, it seems only fitting to capture the New Year preparations suffused with their favourite hues of richness and wealth.

The main action is tomorrow night as families gather at home for a huge meal, much like our Christmas; they also watch the countdown celebrations on TV and head out to light some fireworks after eating their midnight dumplings.

Then the fun continues on the 23rd of January, which marks the first day of the year and the beginning of the Spring Festival; signifying the end of Winter and the start of the most important festival of the Chinese Year.

Almost every day for 15 days, culminating in the Lantern Festival, people celebrate in special ways according to each day.

According to tales and legends, the beginning of Chinese New Year started with the fight against a mythical beast called Nian. The beast thought it was cool to eat all the livestock, crops and children on the first day of each luna year, so villagers started to try and protect themselves by putting out food in front of their doors. Apparently these tasty food offerings worked a treat, and consequently Nian stopped his tirade and peace prevailed.

One year, while the beast was still reaping havoc, people saw that Nian was scared away by a child wearing red, so they assumed he was afraid of the colour. Since then villagers have hung red lanterns and scrolls outside their homes and used red firecrackers to frighten Nian away.

As we prepare to frighten our own devils away it’s hard not to get caught up in the buzz. Let’s see what you’ve got for us in the year 4710 Mr Dragon!

Kris

Right outside the fortress walls of Dali’s ancient town lies a vast green world of orderly vegetable gardens, Bai villages, fishing jetties and peaceful dirt roads. All accessible by bicycle and hardly a car in sight.

With the icy wind in my hair and a pack on my back I meandered past villagers harvesting greens, spreading hay to compost the intermittent barren patches, and kids waving an over enthusiastic Ni hao every now and then.

My new morning routine was just the kick start I needed to blow off the Winter slugishness I’ve been perfecting of late. With a farming patchwork of paths to explore I reminded myself how childishly free it feels to pedal without a helmet and see where the wind blows me.

I stopped to take photos now and then and sample some of the fresh produce in village markets; juicy red Chinese dates and salted almonds being the new, surprisingly good, mix-in-your mouth combo.

Some things I find interesting about the current state of farming in China;

• Only about 10 to 15 percent of the land in China is good for agriculture (compared to 50 percent in India, 20 percent in the United States, and 32 percent in France).

• Forty percent of China’s crop land is irrigated (in Dali they have the perfect water source living next to  a huge lake), compared to 23 percent in India.

• China feeds 22 percent of the world’s population with only 10 percent of the planet’s arable land. Land is heavily utilized for agriculture; vegetables are planted on road embankments, in traffic triangles and right up the walls of many buildings. Even so, since 1949 China has lost one fifth of its arable land.

• About 35 percent of China’s labor force is in agriculture but it’s dropping fast. A little over a decade ago China was home to 700 million farmers and they made up about 60 percent of the entire population.

It seems that to live close to the farming areas of China is to understand a vital community of her people, let alone learn to appreciate what gifts come with each new season.

Kris

Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come. Chinese proverb

Living under a cold mountain range at a highish elevation is completely different to the tropical Australia we left behind. The Cangshan mountains aren’t high by Himalayan standards and not really snowy by Winter measures, but seeing them every day as part of the landscape is a new pleasure.

The mountains dominate the old town of Dali and we’re not the only people who think they’re pretty special. At the moment in Northern China it’s well below zero so people come to holiday in the Yunnan Province for the ‘Eternal Spring’, because you can still see green trees and flowering plants.

Almost every day that we happen to wander near a certain part of the walled fortress there’s some wedding action going on; couples from Dali or on their honeymoon.

In China, like a lot of countries, weddings are no small gig. So apparently it’s normal for the newly married couple to take some time out on an alternate day to their wedding, get dressed up again and pose until they get the perfect wedding portrait. All done with the auspicious Dali fortress backdrop and the Cangshan mountains.

Brides normally wear red for good luck and to chase away evil spirits, so it’s not uncommon for them to choose a white dress as an alternative for other wedding photos. The most popular time of year being when the blossoms come out on the tree that perches on the old walls and during sunset.

You can see why it’s a popular place!

Kris

Towering above Dali are the moody mountains of Cangshan; at a height of over 4,000 metres they are dusted with snow, often heavy with threatening clouds and sometimes jagged against a moon lit night. Such are the mountains in Winter.

We wanted to walk amongst the freshness of the pine trees, taste the glacial fed water, gain a high altitude perspective and get lost in the silence.

The hike is easier than it looks if you want it to be. We opted for the cable car up and then a meander along the aptly named Cloud Travellers Path, before returning down the same way.

I’ve met a few people recently that have hiked the steep stone stairs to the icy summit, but they all said things like “toughest steps of my life” while complaining about their inability to walk for days after.

All things considered, not an appealing day out, especially since we possess zero extreme weather gear. That’s the excuse I’m sticking to anyway.

The mountains themselves are apparently bursting with wild orchids, rhododendrons, azaleas and some of the rarest camellias in China; maybe it’s the time of year and the limited area we roamed, but unfortunately we didn’t see any. But we’ve seen plenty in the local flower market, and if you’re a flower nerd you’d be well impressed.*

For us, we relished the people free paths and the quiet mountain vibe and we’ll be back when Cangshan finishes dusting off her Winter coat!

Kris

Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.  Albert Einstein

*The stock for most azaleas grown in Europe was sourced from wild azaleas on Cangshan.

One of the things that’s easy to love about living in Dali is the way the atmosphere is transformed by night. As the sun sets behind the mountains and the moon reflects above the lake, the town is illuminated anew; in a Chinese red lantern fantasy kind of way.

With the full moon on the rise I wanted to capture the changing mood as darkness falls; the way the funky little bars and restaurants come alive. How the dark streets are punctuated with fluorescent lit bbq stops on our walk home, and the way the locals at our favourite bar huddle in from the cold.

The real reward of the night was an eery moon. As the moon revealed it’s blue alter ego my Chinese friends went crazy with the rarity of such a natural spectacle. A beautiful yin yang symbol to mark the last moon of the Chinese Year.

Dali gets easier to love by the week.

Kris

We are all like the bright moon, we still have our darker side. Khalil Gibran

With a sneaky long lens I took to the streets of Dali. I wanted to try and capture some of the interesting and beautiful people we pass daily. From the old faces that sit around outdoor tables playing mahjong, to the well earned wrinkles at the central food market, the routine of Chinese life is abundantly busy, and for some people monotonously simple. Kris

Not since March last year, when we lived in the sweaty Amazon jungle, have we completely unpacked our bags. But the time has come to shake out the dirt and find a place for our few exhausted possessions; let ourselves think we might be ‘home’ for a while.

And it feels great.

The Hostel is called Mama Naxi (sounds like Mama Nashi) and is newish but built in the traditional Yunnan style of stone and wood, with a big living space housing a couple of computers, dining tables, a not often watched tv and a chill out lounge.

Mama’s is in a quiet back street of the ancient city in an area of traditional buildings and vegetable gardens, tucked inside the outer fortress walls of Dali Old Town.

Not many Hostels in Asia have kitchens because street food is so affordable, but Mama’s isn’t lacking for creative food making space. It’s the first time since we’ve been in Asia that we’ll be able to visit the markets and buy fresh produce with dinner in mind.

Our room barely fits the bed, a small shelf and space to hang stuff on a couple of hooks, but we don’t need to share a bathroom and the less space, the less there is to clean up. Plus it’s incredibly cheap.

During the day, especially now the season is cold, and the sky is as cloudlessly blue and beautiful as a Brisbane Winter, everyone sits around the courtyard facing the sun.

When I look at everything unpacked, I’m reminded how good it feels to be able to rearrange your life, all your basic needs, in less than an hour and feel settled. Reminded how liberating it is to have less material attachments and more time for the experience of living. And when I look back at all the ‘houses’ I’ve lived in over the years, it’s always and only the people I’ve lived with that make it a ‘home’.

It’s good to be back.

Kris

The shortest distance between new friends is a smile. Unknown