FINDING SERGIO LEONE’S HIDEAWAY IN LIMING
The place looks like a scene from a 1960’s Spaghetti Western. Complete with rocky cliffs, and a small run-down school where Native-American kids play ball. If you close your eyes, you can almost hear Ennio Morricone’s famous tune playing in the background. But of course, the kids are not Indians, and the guy playing the flute is Naxi, not Italian.
50% Yosemite, 50% Mau
We’re navigating our way amongst the dense carpet of shrubs covering the floor of this deep, vast canyon. Our mules wallow their way up the narrow pathway, headed by a Chinese who is actually not Chinese at all.
This is the gorge of Liming, which despite the scenery, isn’t located in New Mexico, but actually in Yunnan, China. The Naxi people, a small ethnic minority with a distinct language, writing and customs call this place home. One of them leads my mule while plying a Naxi tune. The experts say that Nashi native music is thousands of years old. For me, it sounds just timeless.
I’m trying to detect an echo, but of course, there is none. The place is just too big. It’s about a Kilometer from side to side and 900 meters from bottom to top. For me, it feels almost half the size of Yosemite Valley, and nearly as beautiful. Yet, something is missing. Crowds. Unlike the oh-so-popular National Park, we’re the only tourists around. Accommodating these two conflicting facts is challenging, to say the least.
No Clint
I wrote about Yunnan before. This vast province in the southwest part of China is one of the most diverse corners of Asia. Its baffling collection of ethnicities and landscapes defies the imagination. The great empty canyon of Liming lies in the foothills of the Himalayas, a place of deep ravines where Asia’s three greatest rivers squeeze together in close proximity. The mighty Yangtze – the world’s second largest river – flows on our right. The majestic Mekong – The river that makes Southeast Asia – tumbles on our left. The grand Salvin run its course into Burma just 40Km away.
We climb the top of the gorge – 2,700 meters above sea level – just as the last rays of sunshine hit the majestic and distant Himalayas. This where the last high mountains of the mighty range give way to the jungles and rivers of South China. I rest and try suck in the majesty of this grand setting. The Naxi guide starts to play his flute again.
When I first saw “a fistful of Dollars” as a kid, I was awe-struck by the addictive combination of never-ending vistas and Ennio’s melody. Perhaps he’s summoning Eastwood, Lee Van Cliff and Eli Wallach for one last round of gunslinging. More likely he’s trying to hint it’s time to move back before dark settles in.
