Peddling Paradise in Sichuan and Yunnan

Sha

ngri-la. The very name is an incantation that evokes images of a mythical mountain paradise where peace reigns and life approaches perfection. Drawn from the pages of James Hilton's 1933 classic, Lost Horizon, Shangri-la has become synonymous with exotic escapism, a connotation not lost on the tourist industry.

Hilton professed that Shangri-la is not on any map, but that hasn't stopped numerous countries—Nepal, Ladakh, Sikkim and Bhutan, among others—from claiming to harbor the verdant Himalayan valley in the shadow of a glacier-clad peak, shaped like a pyramid. The People's Republic of China is the latest to jump on the bandwagon, announcing in 1996 that it had found Shangri-la in the mountainous Deqin prefecture of northwestern Yunnan province. Not to be outdone, Sichuan, its equally scenic neighbor to the north, has since claimed the title for its Yading Nature Reserve in the Konkaling Mountains. Its assertion is based on a 1931 National Geographic photo-essay about the area said to have inspired Hilton's tale.

The competition is understandable. Shangri-la is a potent marketing tool. Well-heeled Chinese tourists from the non-paradisiacal regions of Shenzhen and Beijing have flocked to the two newly declared Shangri-las since their much publicized "discovery." But until last year Yading and Deqin were closed to foreign visitors. Now is your chance to check out these spectacular mountain regions before the growing hordes spoil what's left of their idyllic tranquillity.

At Daocheng, a two-day bus ride from the Sichuan capital, Chengdu, rent a jeep and follow the road past thick forests and open fields, where herds of yaks make their way down to winter grazing grounds, to the Yading Nature Reserve. Once in Yading, trade in your mud-spattered jalopy for a hardy Tibetan pony that can better fare the torturous 14-km trek to Luorong Pasture. From there the view of the Konkaling range is breathtaking. Farther along, the three sacred peaks of Chenrezig, Chanadorje and Jambeyang—named after a trinity of Tibetan deities—loom over the landscape. If the light is just right, Jambeyang resembles a perfect pyramid: a Shangri-la setting waiting for its utopian kingdom.

At least four glossy photo books are devoted to Yading's claim to Shangri-la, but several authors insist it can be found in Yunnan's Deqin prefecture. To get there fly to Zhongdian, some 170 km away. Nobody would mistake this northern town, with its neocommunist concrete structures and rows of karaoke bars, for a terrestrial paradise, but nearby is the stunning Songzanlin Monastery, which could as easily have sprung from Hilton's imagination as that of a Tibetan architect. And Deqin—especially the majestic, glacier-draped Mount Kagbo, Yunnan's highest peak at 6,740 m—lives up to its billing. A steep scramble up the mountain's flank will bring hikers to the foot of the glacier, which lies at the heart of Shangri-la, according to the glossiest of the tourist brochures.

The very inaccessibility of Hilton's hidden paradise is what made it a sanctuary. Judging by the crowds that flock to each new Shangri-la, the quest to find a true refuge is an enduring one.