I thought I was born on a mountain

The Tiger Leaping Gorge was my first time doing a long multiple-day climb with a heavy pack. Despite the challenges, there’s something exhilarating, humbling, and calming about upland travel.

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We started the hike late afternoon, so we raced the sun up the mountain and arrived at the Naxi Guesthouse just in time for a sunset dinner.

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The local Naxi people’s homes and rice terraces

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The small family-run guesthouse

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A simple dinner for two: sauteed eggplants, stir-fried shredded pumpkins, salted peanuts, Dali beer, and hot mint tea

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After a good night of rest, we woke up bright and early to continue our journey. The new day started with the most strenuous part of the trail, named 28 bends for its steep twists and turns. After few hours of climbing, we were rewarded with a beautiful view. And the rest of the hike almost felt like breeze, in comparison.

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On this narrow path, the horse and I were both very weary about falling off the mountain..

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Taurin!

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We saw so many mountain goats along the way.

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I slipped and stepped into the water!

We caught a mini-bus out of town and stopped by Lijiang. Since over 800 years ago, the Naxi people have resided in Lijiang’s old town. Unfortunately, once the town was declared a UNESCO Heritage Site, the tourism industry caused a huge displacement of its original residents and replaced homes with overpriced souvenir shops. Nonetheless, I was grateful for the break before the trip back to Kunming.


Can’t complain about cold beer: Tibetan barley beer and Lijiang’s own “Happy Hours”


A Mongolian throat-singer + ensemble

“When you ride your bike, you’re working your legs, but your mind is on a treadmill. When you play chess, your mind is clicking along, but your body is stagnating. Climbing brings it together in a beautiful, magical way. The adrenaline is flowing, and it’s flowing all the time.” – A quote by Pat Ament

I love bicycles and weekend junk food!

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Last week Taurin and I were on a spontaneous bike ride when we saw a giant ferris wheel from a distance. As it turns out, we were right by the famous Dian Lake, the eighth largest lake in China. It was close to sunset, so we returned to the park over the weekend. We had so much fun, and I’m totally hooked on bicycle adventures now.


A photo from last week when we sighted the ferris wheel.

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This is the view of Dian Lake from the ferris wheel.

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I secretly really like…green pea ice cream!

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Walnut-shaped pancake snack with chopped up walnuts.


Matcha milk tea.


Passionfruit milk tea with jackfruit bits.


I figured out how to make gifs! This is us on the spinning teacup ride.


The sunset from my apartment rooftop. I love the mountains in the background.

P.S. This is sort of silly, but I’ve gotten really into twitting recently. Let’s be friends!

Seoul: A recollection

When we arrived back in Seoul, it was pouring rain but everyone was already out. With our biggest umbrellas, we ventured out to Hongdae, the arts university district where my mom also studied painting. After a strong cup of coffee, I stayed out late walking around eating snacks and snapping photos.

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A sleepy ride on the KTX speed-train back to Seoul.

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All I wanted for breakfast–a plain toasted bagel and cream cheese with black iced coffee.

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I wasn’t too happy about the rain!

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Everyone lined up to grab late night snacks.

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“Hongdae children’s park”

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An impromptu street jam session that turned into a b-boy battle.

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Seoul is and isn’t the way I remembered it from my childhood–a haze of mountains and skyscrapers standing tall, side-by-side. And then there are these sudden moments of recollection. The details are profoundly ordinary, like the time I ordered a bowl of rice cake ramen with my friend Jiyun. We were only in third grade, and this was our first time eating out alone just outside of the school gate. We sat on stools nibbling on pickled dikon radishes when a middle-aged woman brought us the food. The noodles were perfectly al dente. I always overcook my noodles.

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“But when from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell alone, more fragile but more enduring, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, remain poised a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, hoping, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unflinchingly, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.”
- A selection from “In Search of Lost Time” by Marcel Proust

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