Discovering life and death in Dali's back alleys

A group of people carrying large, colorful banners suddenly appeared from a tiny village alley.

The mood was festive, joyous.

I stopped one of the men following the parade.

"Is this a ..." I struggled to find the Mandarin word for wedding. "Marriage?"

"No!" he says. "Death!"

And to ensure he wasn't misunderstood, he stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes to the back of his head, before breaking into uproarious laughter.

Indeed, Yunnan province's old town of Dali is an impossibly quaint slice of ancient China.

It's winding cobbled streets, cute courtyards and imposing city gates were first built in the 14th century. And various emperors, conquerors, religions and ancient trade routes have been leaving their mark ever since.

Dali is nestled in the ridiculously scenic nook below the cloud-topped Cangshan Mountain and above the majestic Erhai Lake. Its unique setting means that almost every vantage point offers spectacular scenery.

Surrounding the old town are fields of rice paddies, where local women wearing traditional clothing work as they have for hundreds of years and men still steer donkey-pulled carts.

Dali's improbable beauty draws thousands of visitors every year, who cram into the town's picturesque streets, posing with selfie sticks and haggling over prices of local delicacies and souvenirs.

In the evening, as the sun sinks below the ancient city walls, the streets teem with people shopping, eating, drinking and soaking in the atmosphere.

Dali is hardly off the beaten track - but it's not difficult to escape the maddening crowd.

Away from the main tourist thoroughfares there is no shortage of cute courtyards with restaurants serving spicy noodles or deep-fried cheese on sticks, a local delicacy.

We spent a day exploring the quieter streets and stumbled upon some fascinating antiques shops. We took a turn and discovered a park with elderly locals playing traditional instruments, such as the erhu (a two-stringed fiddle) and xiao (a type of flute).

The musicians sat on benches surrounding a leafy courtyard while an elderly woman, microphone in hand, stood in the middle as if on a grand stage, singing traditional Chinese opera. Workers sat in the surrounding corridors and pagodas to enjoy the hauntingly beautiful music.

If you're feeling adventurous, it's possible to hike up Cangshan Mountain. But if you want the view without the exertion, the cable car is quicker.

It may be sunny and fine in Dali, but Cangshan Mountain kisses the clouds. The misty peak, with wild nature and stunning waterfalls, provides plenty of spectacular scenery.

One of the most popular visitor activities is to hire bikes or scooters to explore the surrounding countryside. We opted for bikes and within minutes were cycling past rice paddies and overtaking donkey-pulled carts.

Not far from Dali old town is Erhai Lake, which stretches for 40 kilometers.

Hung on the edge of the water are clusters of small villages where life is lived as it has been for centuries.

It's to these villages we cycle.

Cangcan was our first stop. It was quiet in the middle of the day.

Winding country roads took us to Xiaoyi Zhang, which seemed a little busier - elderly women in traditional outfits sang folk songs in one of the narrow alleyways. Make that very narrow - they were about to reach a crescendo when a large white van tried to squeeze past. Without breaking their tune, half the ladies stood up and squished themselves against the wall to let the vehicle through.

We cycled to the lake's banks to soak in the view.

When we returned, a group of elderly men tuning traditional instruments materialized next to the singing women.

That's when the funeral procession materialized - a riot of song and color.

It seemed a celebration of a life well lived.

And in Dali, that's not difficult to imagine.

(China Daily 12/07/2015 page22)