by Mavis Teo
When touring the Tibetan-Qinghai plateau — particularly in northern Sichuan in China’s southwest — gatecrashing a wedding is an activity.
It opens your eyes to the rich cultures that make up China and to the warmth to be found among strangers in the lonely foothills of the alpine mountains in the vast country.
This is what I discover on a blustery day in Zhongcha valley, a verdant vale between mountainous peaks 2490m above sea level and a 20-minute drive from Jiuzhaigou National Park, one of China’s most famous national parks. The two largest ethnic groups that have lived here for generations are the Tibetans and Qiang people — two of 56 in China.
We heard about a wedding feast in the village during our hotel-arranged house visit, where a 70-year-old Tibetan welcomed us into his house for yak butter tea. My curiosity piqued, I talked to my new Chinese friends, whom I have made at Rissai Valley, a Ritz-Carlton Reserve hotel that opened a stone’s throw away last July, into joining me.
As we stand sheepishly near the “kitchen in the square for community use, someone thrusts a bunch of chopsticks at us.
Tibetan weddings are a community event and a three- to five-day running feast. Day one is the most ceremonious. By the third day, everyone, including the newlyweds, dresses down. I spy a few tourists standing around self-consciously as well, hoping to join in the fun. Tibetan hospitality must be legendary.
The newlyweds invite us over to their table. The groom, a 26-year-old civil servant, tells us to tuck into the piquant, peppery Tibetan-Sichuanese stir-fries. “A guest of Rissai Valley is our guest. The hotel has created jobs for many people in this area.”
Unparalleled experiences
While not the only international hotel within a 5km radius, Rissai Valley, which took 10 years to complete, is a game-changer in the luxury sector. As Marcel Damen, general manager of Rissai Valley, puts it, “Our hotel offers an unparalleled experience in this area and a level of service and luxury not seen here before.”
Unlike other Ritz-Carlton hotels around the world, a Reserve is designed individually, with even customised hardware and experiences, to immerse guests in the locale. Local craftsmanship is also celebrated, thus, many locals want to be part of this hotel.
Gongbu is one of the incidental beneficiaries, although his “private kitchen” is not on the official menu of experiences that Rissai Valley offers to guests. The 35-year-old’s guests are mostly domestic tourists who have heard of him through word of mouth.
Over free-range yak meat, mushrooms, and freshly picked mountain vegetables cooked in a heartwarming herbal hot pot and dipped into a spicy, tongue-numbing sauce before eating, Gongbu pours us homemade highland barley wine sweetened with honey from his bees. We eat on his low-slung painted Tibetan table while his cat, a cheeky little rascal, attacks our shoelaces.
Baths for fairies
Despite the charms of the locals, one goes to Jiuzhaigou for the national park. Jiuzhaigou means “Ravine of Nine Villages”, a reference to the cluster of Tibetan and Qiang villages in the valley.
Despite its well-documented beauty, the UNESCO World Heritage site isn’t seeing a post-pandemic flurry of foreigners. Domestic visitors, on the other hand, have been coming in droves to see their national pride since it fully opened in 2021, following repairs after the devastating 2017 Jiuzhaigou earthquake, which killed 247 people.
Seeing the 72,000-ha nature reserve on the marked route is stressful. While there is a less rustic option, taking a van instead of a bus with a private guide that requires a seven-hour commitment, it’s a luxury not every traveller has.
I opt for the way most locals take, but the boisterous local senior citizens wear me out. So I get off the bus and take the boardwalk. While there is still a lot of chatter around me, the gasps of astonishment remind me to be grateful that I can witness such otherworldly beauty.
Formed over millions of years, the calcium carbonate-rich lakes in Jiuzhaigou come in a myriad of jewel tones. Sometimes a clear sapphire, and sometimes an iridescent opal or a milky aquamarine, they are spellbindingly beautiful. On a clear day, they reflect the fir trees fringing them and the jagged peaks of the mountains towering over them. In the fall, the woodlands are ablaze in shades of red, gold, and brown.
When I return, my Nieba (Tibetan for “personal butler”) asks if I have enjoyed myself. “Yes, but I wish I had more peace to savour the sights.” The next day, Nicholas He, the hotel manager, takes me on a 75-minute scenic drive to his favourite spot.
At 4pm, we are the only visitors at Fairy Pool National Park. Lichen hangs from trees — a sign that the air is clean. We listen to the forest’s heartbeat: the chirp of insects and the occasional trill of a bird calling for its mate. If you are lucky, you may see a golden monkey or even a panda bear, as there is a bamboo forest here.
In the soft afternoon sun, the turquoise pools beckon. Folklore has it that fairies would descend from heaven to bathe in them because they couldn’t resist the inviting pools. What more a mortal? A few years ago, a Chinese woman was charged with dipping her feet into a pool in this protected forest.
Make time for staying in
While Jiuzhaigou is not short of attractions, you will find it worthwhile to put aside time to relax in Rissai Valley. In the process, you may gain a better appreciation for the local culture or maybe even China.
There are 87 standalone villas designed by WATG, each offering panoramas of the valley, built on an estate modelled on an ancient local village. The interiors were designed by the late Jaya Ibrahim, known for masterpieces like Capella Singapore. Landscape architect John Pettigrew has populated the grounds with native seasonal plants so that the estate is picturesque year-round.
At the sprawling spa, the menu offers face and body treatments drawn from Tibetan and Qiang wisdom and traditional practices. The Tibetan singing bowl meditation class is a must-do.
Rissai Valley also scores highly in the dining programme. Executive chef Herry Ying presents local staples in palatable reimaginings for international guests.
Yak meat, a staple at high altitudes, is used in many ways — and all are delicious. On my welcome platter of Little Prairie on Rissai Valley, it is the most tender jerky I have tasted.
On the same platter, the moreish nougat is made from yak’s milk. At Chinese fine dining Cai Lin Xuan, I mistake a yak steak that Ying has flame-torched on a pink Himalayan salt cube for A5 wagyu. For a refined version of the hotpot I had at Gongbu’s place, Bo Ri Village is your go-to.
At La Montagne, the Mediterranean restaurant, I learn that Chinese Beluga roe from sturgeon farmed in icy waters in Sichuan is of such good quality that many top chefs in Singapore use it. I am also impressed by the wine list in the hotel restaurants, which feature many Chinese vineyards — their profiles have risen in recent years. Sommelier Byron Bi, is proud to share with me.
Proud to be a local
Before the pandemic, I had stayed in my fair share of hotels in China. Many loved to show off the number of imported brands they used as if it were a sign of luxury. Rissai Valley, on the other hand, while being an American brand (Marriott), has specially curated exceptional Chinese products to feature, and is proud of them.
As I tuck into sheets embroidered with Tibetan motifs by the Qiang tribe (known to be the best embroiderers in the country) on my last night, I can’t help but feel proud. Being a fourth-generation Singaporean of Chinese ethnicity, it’s great to see this 5,000-year-old civilisation rediscovering its craftsmanship and proudly displaying it alongside luxury hospitality.