The bus ride from Shangri-la to Lijiang was kind of enlightening. It was a bit strange, knowing we had passed all of this scenery once before, but having been asleep prior, so seeing it anew for the second time.
There weren’t a lot of memories from the ride itself, I tried to doze off through as much of it as possible, using Christine’s shoulder and the window beside me alternatively as headrests, and mostly failing. The first memory I have, distinct, after getting on the bus, is getting off it at a terrible rest stop.
As was usually the case, this meant ice cream for me. For once, it mean ice cream for people other than me, too, and a good amount of stretching for everyone.