But let me explain how I got here. I flew from San Francisco to Seoul to Shanghai to Chongqing, where my sister Maggie and I got swindled by a cabbie. We then took a full day’s worth of cramped bus rides from Chongqing to Chengdu and finally into the valley. After traveling two hemispheres, that first whiff of mountain air was the smelling salt to my exhaustion. Ahh.

Jiuzhaigou is a protected nature reserve known for its snow-capped peaks, waterfalls and lakes. We could’ve experienced it the easy way – in a heated bus full of fanny-packed Chinese tourists – but no, our crew found ourselves shuttled to the top of the mountain. A sign, blanketed in snow, told us we were in the Primeval Forest. Did I take a wrong turn in the Legend of Zelda?

We hiked down, all 14 kilometers of it. Along the way, the landscape changed with each passing turn. The lakes were amazing! There were ones that reflected the thousand-foot rock faces above it, and ones that were so intensely blue, you could see the bottom of the lake.

During the trip, Maggie and I met a mother and her two sons, Kenneth and Nick, from Hong Kong. They took us in as their own, and that night, after a trek of a lifetime, we stayed in a Tibetan home stay.

The matron of the house – a tall Tibetan woman in her 60s with a booming voice and a sweet, genuine smile – welcomed us. She had prepared a meal cooked over a wood-burning stove: stir fried beef with veggies, ice cold tomato slices with sugar, and a bowl of cabbage soup. And for dessert, yak butter tea.

The sun had set, and the street dogs outside were scampering home. I returned to my room and slipped under the covers, very far away from home.