Dali Draws Young Chinese Seeking a Different Life, as Growth Tests Its Bohemian Refuge

A Fresh Start Between Cangshan and Lake Erhai

Tanya Guo, 26, left Beijing for Dali in search of a life she wanted to live. Between the slopes of the Cangshan mountains and the waters of Lake Erhai in Yunnan province, she joined a diverse community questioning whether success has to mean long working hours, expensive housing and constant competition.

Guo described a conversation familiar among friends considering a move away from China's biggest cities:

It wasn't the life I wanted. The question of moving somewhere by choice rather than necessity came up regularly in conversations with my friends. Whenever this topic is discussed in China, Dali always comes up.

Dali, once a remote outpost, has become associated with new beginnings, alternative lifestyles and personal freedom. Its mild climate, mountain scenery and relaxed atmosphere attract people seeking distance from the demands and conformity of urban life.

Office workers, graduates, artists, families and retirees arrive with different ambitions. Some want to work differently. Others hope to spend more time outdoors, raise children outside conventional arrangements or recover from exhaustion. For many, moving is a chance to reconsider their future rather than simply change their address.

Dali's popularity also brings a difficult tradeoff. Tourism, migration and property development create customers and opportunities, while rising rents, pressure on natural resources and changes to the historic Old Town make the refuge harder to sustain. The people seeking a simpler life are becoming part of the growth reshaping it.

Why City Life Has Lost Its Appeal for Some

China's rapid urbanization over the past four decades transformed the country, lifted hundreds of millions of people out of poverty and helped build sprawling cities such as Beijing, Shanghai and Shenzhen. Moving to a city became a route toward employment, prosperity and a different future.

High housing costs, grueling work schedules and intense social competition have left some young people disenchanted with that promise. The Chinese term neijuan, often translated as "involution," describes the exhausting cycle in which people work harder and compete more fiercely while receiving diminishing rewards.

For someone caught in that cycle, extra effort can feel less like progress than a requirement to keep up. Dali offers the possibility of stepping away from that race and choosing a different measure of a good life.

Another term, tangping, or "lying flat," went viral on Chinese social media as an expression of quiet rebellion against the relentless pursuit of success. Some young people are choosing simplicity and caring for themselves over climbing the corporate ladder or accumulating material wealth.

Dali has become an unofficial capital of this movement. Its nickname, "Dalifornia," captures its reputation for good weather, a relaxed pace and a countercultural atmosphere.

An urban escapee who moved to Dali described the attraction and the desire among some people born in cities to reconnect with rural life:

Many others came to Dali for similar reasons, seeking personal change away from China's cities. Dali was jokingly called the 'capital of lying flat' or 'Dalifornia' for its good weather and relaxed vibe. The back-to-the-land trend reversed decades of urbanization, as some city-born Chinese wanted to return to rural roots.

Who Is Making a Home in Dali?

Dali's newcomers are far from a single group. Their reasons for arriving range from exhaustion with office work to creative ambition, spiritual exploration and a desire for greater personal freedom.

• Office workers and recent graduates seeking relief from the pressures of city life.
• Artists, musicians and writers looking for creative inspiration.
• Environmentalists and spiritual seekers drawn to nature and alternative communities.
• Political dissidents and digital nomads seeking more personal freedom.
• Retirees and families hoping for a healthier, slower pace of life.

Some newcomers seek distance from both economic pressures and tightening state control in China's major cities. Dali's community includes hippies, yuppies, bohemians, families who educate their children at home, Taoists and Buddhists, each pursuing a different version of a satisfying life.

British writer Alec Ash chronicled his first year in Dali in his memoir, The Mountains Are High. He described people drawn to a simpler existence and distance from authoritarian power:

bohemian hippies and political dissidents are rejecting the worst parts of modernity and living more simply, in tune with the natural world and away from authoritarian power.

For some residents, Dali is a temporary pause. For others, it is a place to build a permanent home, a small business or a community around shared interests. Those different expectations coexist within the same streets and villages.

Growth Is Changing the Place People Came to Find

Dali's transformation from a tranquil settlement into a fashionable destination has unfolded over the past two decades. Tourists and migrants have brought rapid development, higher rents and growing concern about damage to the environment.

Longtime residents and early arrivals have watched property developers move in and infrastructure expand. Living costs have risen, forcing many local people and small business owners out of the historic Old Town.

Beloved local establishments have closed and been replaced by generic tourist shops. For residents who valued familiar businesses and close community ties, the change affects everyday life as much as the appearance of the streets.

Gentrification describes this process: an area becomes more desirable and attracts investment, but higher costs can push out people and businesses already there. In Dali, it creates tension between the opportunities brought by newcomers and the ability of established communities to remain.

The town's bohemian reputation is caught in the same process. The atmosphere that draws visitors and new residents depends partly on affordable space, distinctive businesses and room for experimentation, all of which face pressure as popularity grows.

Musicians and Artists Weigh Opportunity Against Loss

Experimental musician Wu Huanqing moved to Dali in 2003. His experience spans an earlier, quieter period and the growth that has brought new possibilities for performers.

Wu welcomed opportunities for musicians while recalling the connections he valued in the past:

While I value the new opportunities for musicians, I recall a time when Dali was more laid-back and connected. Modernity and tradition can coexist, but we must respect and learn from the local ecosystem.

Painter and café owner Rong Jie approached the question through architecture. Rong renovated a traditional Bai-style house into a café, connecting a new business with an existing building tradition.

Rong argued that criticism of local construction workers can overlook the unfamiliar demands placed on them:

Some newcomers criticize local construction workers, but the issues arise when workers are asked to build in unfamiliar modern styles. We should preserve traditional architecture and culture.

Wu and Rong identify concrete choices within Dali's growth: whether new opportunities retain community connections, whether buildings respect local knowledge, and whether newcomers learn from the place they have chosen. Both see room for change alongside respect for existing culture and the natural environment.

The Landscape Faces Pressure Too

Cangshan and Lake Erhai are central to Dali's appeal. The mountains, lake and surrounding valleys offer the access to nature that many arrivals found missing from urban life.

Tourism and migration also bring pollution, development and heavier demands on local resources. The landscapes attracting newcomers face pressure from the growth those arrivals help generate.

Dali's efforts to balance development and preservation include the Dali Bed Sheet Art District, which provides affordable studio space for artists and promotes sustainable development. Affordable workspaces give creative residents a practical reason to stay as costs rise elsewhere.

Environmental protection, cultural preservation and the cost of living are closely connected here. Artists need space they can afford, residents need a livable community, and visitors come partly because of the scenery and local character. Growth places demands on all three at once.

A Smaller Movement Against Decades of Urban Migration

Dali's newcomers form part of a broader change in how some Chinese people imagine a desirable future. For decades, millions moved from the countryside to cities in search of better opportunities, helping drive China's economic transformation.

That movement also created social difficulties. Children sometimes remained in rural communities while parents worked elsewhere, becoming known as "left-behind children." The hukou, or household registration system, restricts migrants' access to services, making relocation more complicated than finding a job and a home.

Some urban residents are now moving in the other direction, although on a much smaller scale. They seek rural roots, a less pressured existence or a closer relationship with nature. Dali is one destination for that search.

Similar movements have occurred in other countries, particularly following the COVID-19 pandemic and the rise of remote work. For people able to work away from an office, where to live can become a personal choice rather than a decision tied entirely to an employer's location.

Writer Pallavi Aiyar, discussing recent books on Chinese society, considered the disputed significance of this "private revolution." Some see a meaningful act of resistance or personal discovery. Others question whether leaving the competition behind produces political change.

Dali's individual stories combine nostalgia, idealism and practical decisions. A move may express dissatisfaction with society while also meeting a simpler need for rest, affordable creative space or a different daily routine.

Yunnan's Diversity Shapes the Appeal

Yunnan's 26 recognized ethnic minorities make it one of China's most multicultural regions. In Dali, that diversity is reflected in architecture, food, music and everyday life.

Newcomers encounter cultural traditions that give the place its own identity. For some, this creates a sense of openness and possibility that they found difficult to experience in major cities.

Yunnan's cities, including Kunming and Dali, have long served as places of exile and refuge for people seeking a different pace or a break from the mainstream. Artists, intellectuals and free spirits from China and abroad continue to be drawn to the region's relaxed, bohemian atmosphere.

Rong Jie's concern for traditional architecture connects directly to that attraction. Dali's culture belongs to existing communities as well as to the newcomers inspired by it. Preserving local buildings and respecting local knowledge are concrete parts of maintaining the character people come to experience.

A Change of Address Is Only Part of the Search

Dali's mountains and valleys provide space for reflection, healing and personal growth. Some arrivals discover that the move also requires changes in their habits and expectations.

An urban escapee described climbing Cangshan after investing hopes of recovery in the place itself:

I had projected significance onto Dali and the mountain, believing I'd be restored there. But isolation is internal; the answers weren't in the hills. I started cooking, gardening, and spending time outdoors. Hobbies like music, running, archery, and tai chi filled my days. But changing location wasn't enough; I needed to change my mind.

Cooking, gardening and spending time outdoors became part of that person's new routine, alongside music, running, archery and tai chi. The account places the search for peace in everyday activities as well as in the scenery.

Other newcomers experiment by educating children at home, starting small businesses, practicing meditation or traditional arts, or allowing themselves a period of "lying flat." Dali gives them a setting in which to try arrangements that differ from the demands they left behind.

Rising costs, environmental pressures and changes to local culture remain pressing concerns. Preserving what residents value while accommodating newcomers requires engagement from both groups. Whether Dali serves as a temporary refuge or a permanent home, its appeal rests on the possibility of redefining success, reconnecting with nature and building community.

Key Points

• Dali attracts young Chinese seeking relief from high housing costs, demanding work and intense competition in major cities.
• Its newcomers include artists, graduates, digital nomads, spiritual seekers, political dissidents, families and retirees.
• The city is associated with "lying flat," a rejection of relentless competition for conventional success.
• Tourism and migration bring opportunities while raising rents, displacing businesses and increasing pressure on natural resources.
• Musician Wu Huanqing and painter Rong Jie call for respect for local ecosystems, architecture and culture.
• Dali's appeal combines personal freedom, Yunnan's cultural diversity and the chance to build a different daily life.