Exploring Jiuzhaigou National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site in the province of Sichuan, China

The weather here changes quickly, or so I’m told. “Practically every 30 minutes,” one of the hotel staff informed me. I think of England, where it’s possible to experience four seasons in a day, and shudder. Thankfully, my first two days in the Jiuzhaigou National Park were glorious, and even when the clouds closed in on the third, obscuring the sky-scraping, snow-dusted peaks, and curling lazily through these forested valleys on the edge of the Tibetan Plateau, the effect was more Middle Earth than Middlesborough.

But the weather isn’t the only thing changing in northern Sichuan. With autumn in full swing – at least up here at 2,400 metres - the trees were putting on a show. Even during the four days I was there, the pops of fire red, patches of burnt orange and swathes of Imperial yellow multiplied, slowly but visibly changing the view.

Naturally, this splendour is drawing crowds and although tickets are  capped at 41,000 a day – with entry divided into morning and afternoon sessions – the 21,234 people posing for selfies, mugging for group shots and trailing behind flag-carrying guides the morning I was there meant that at some spots, particularly Five Flowers Lake and the Pearl Waterfall, the boardwalk slowed to a crawl, turning midweek in the Min Mountains into Nanjing Street on a weekend.

Adding to this unexpectedly urban vibe is that in places, the boardwalk runs beside the road linking the lakes and waterfalls people come here to admire. This is one consequence of the 2017 earthquake, which temporarily erased one of the lakes, altered numerous cliff faces, and wiped away entire stretches of boardwalk on the side of the valley farthest from the road.

Most of the damage has been reversed – Jiuzhaigou was closed until 2020 and then shut again for almost three years during the pandemic – but some sections have not been repaired, and so while the river of buses plying the road makes Jiuzhaigou accessible, even to those with mobility issues, it also means that in many places, the rumble of traffic isn’t far away.

But this is where you take a deep breath and stop focusing on niggling things. After all, Jiuzhaigou is a 5A site – which means it’s one of China’s top attractions – so crowds and noise are to be expected.

Thankfully, it is still easy to lose yourself. The susurration of streams, which seem to flow everywhere and often directly beneath your feet, the sigh of the wind through the fir trees perfuming the air, and the glint of sun off water, is enough to transport even the least romantic of visitors, as the many closed eyes and serene smiles I see, attest.

And then, there are the colours. Jiuzhaigou is famous for its calcium carbonate-rich lakes, which come in shades of emerald green, Afghan turquoise, and blues so vivid that in places, they purple. They are also supernaturally clear, and so fallen trees, some of which are still rooted and sprout leafy branches above the waterline, are clearly visible, even 20 metres down. They are mesmerising, and despite the dozens of photos I flicked through before coming, startling. Even when I visit Five Flower Lake at the end of a long day, the blue looks so unnatural, that I can’t help thinking it dye. It isn’t, in case you are wondering, but the silence of the other visitors here seems to suggest my astonishment is shared.

Add to this lush forests and bamboo thickets, wild bird-filled expanses of reeds and, come the spring, kaleidoscopic carpets of wildflowers that vie with the lakes for attention, and you understand why Jiuzhaigou is not just a 5A attraction, it’s also a UNESCO World Heritage site.

It is divided into three main areas, the Shuzheng, Rize and Zechawa valleys, onto which dozens of smaller valleys open; most are off-limits. In part, this is because the mountains are home to threatened species like the Giant Panda and the Golden Monkey. Another reason is that Nine Village Valley (to give Jiuzhaigou its English translation) is inhabited by Tibetan and Qiang minorities, who would likely prefer their homes aren’t overrun by tourist hordes. Also, this is China, and authorities tend towards over-protection.

That said, visitors in search of a less Disney-ified experience can explore the Zharu Valley. A three-day trail takes you from Zharu Monastery on a circumnavigation of Zha Yi Zha Ga, a 4,528m peak sacred to Bon, the shamanistic religion Tibetans followed before Buddhism arrived in the 7th century. Conditions are basic, with overnight stays in (very) simple homes, and walkers must carry their own supplies, but in exchange for a few blisters, visitors get to experience genuine wilderness and mountain life little changed in centuries.

By now, you would be forgiven for thinking that my goal in Jiuzhaigou was the transcendence of nature. In fact, it was to be spoiled rotten. Located halfway up a parallel valley, the new Ritz Carlton Reserve  Rissai Valley ‒ the Aman-esque sub-brand’s first Chinese foray ‒ lives up to the park’s other name of Jiuzhaitiantang, or Nine Village Heaven.

Its 87 airy 1-, 2- and 3-bedroom villas (there are no rooms), thoughtfully designed by WATG, borrow architectural elements from the Tibetan village of Bo Ri opposite, most notably in their dark stone and wood construction and lintel carvings, and lighting is deliberately subdued, making it just possible for Bo Ri’s inhabitants to imagine they face another village, not the most luxurious property within 1,000 kilometres (if not more). That said, I found it hard to suppress a gasp when I walked through front door of my villa.

It's a combination of the dimensions (expansive), the views (sweeping), and the interiors by the late Jaya Ibrahim (sumptuous), who weaves Tibetan and Qiang elements, including meditative artwork by Pema Rizin, into a warm, welcoming space that invites exploration, seducing at turn, and which cleverly conveys modernity and tradition at once.

Underfloor heating lends the space a cocoon-like feel, and not only keeps toes toasty, but also ensures that when you finally throw off a lifetime indifference to baths (showers are more hygienic) and lower yourself into the walk-down stone tub easily large enough for every member of BTS to bathe in together, you feel nothing but warmth as you gaze out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the starry sky, sipping something Scottish.

Practically self-contained worlds, the villas have mini-kitchens maxi enough to really cook in, although in-villa dining ‒ an extension of the Reserve’s Dining Beyond concept, through which guests can dine at carefully selected and prepared locations around the property, rather than in one of its three restaurants – meant I never whipped up anything more taxing than hot chocolate.

Naturally, there is a spa, which in addition to treatments, has a fully equipped gym and a magnificent, heated pool with viridian tiles and drop-dead views, and of course, there are a wide array of activities, from the culinary to the cultural, which can be arranged by your dedicated host.

So yes, Rissai Valley is sophisticated, yes, it is extremely comfortable and yes, it is a work of beauty, enhanced by solicitous, courteous staff, many from nearby villages like Bo Ri, who genuinely seem to enjoy that you enjoy their world. But at the end of the day, for this visitor at least, Rissai Valley’s greatest gift was something simpler – time. Time to unwind, time to reset, and time to enjoy the majesty of life on the edge of the Roof of the World, from your terrace, from your bedroom, and yes, from the depth of your voluminous stone bath.