More than 500 macaques live in the park. Many of them stroll alongside visitors, who sometimes unwisely offer tidbits, fuelling a grab-and-harass habit. One monkey snatched a bottle of water from my travel companion's backpack.
Guiyang, with its low-key attractions, is a launchpad for more interesting day trips. Waterfalls and other scenic spots abound, while ethnic minorities, who account for about 40 per cent of Guizhou's population, showcase their culture further afield in villages and settlements.
The Huangguoshu (Yellow Fruit Tree) Waterfall National Park (admission: about 200 yuan) lies about a 40-minute drive from the Dragon Palace Caves.
The falls near Anshun town in western Guizhou are among the largest in East Asia. Multiple streams cascade, merge and diverge from a height of more than 70m.
We join the uphill sprawl of people heading for Shuiliandong (Water Curtain Cave) at the back of the falls, when I spy my third rainbow of the day melting into the foot of the falls.
Who says you never know where a rainbow ends? I bet a pot of gold is just under the rushing water.
Physics keeps the mystery intact.
Rainbows form when sunlight and water droplets commingle. This usually happens in rain, but also in the spray of a waterfall. The drops act like a million prisms, refracting, reflecting and otherwise splitting light into its constituent colours.
The droplets produce a rainbow at an angle of about 42 degrees to the observer's eye. I move closer. Gradients tilt and the rainbow teleports to a different part of the falls.
"Why are there so many songs about rainbows?" I am singing the first line of The Rainbow Connection under my breath. It should be cheesy, but I'm exhilarated instead.
It is another sensory adventure when we visit the 1,000-Household Miao Village of Xijiang (admission: 120 yuan) in south-east Guizhou, three hours from Guiyang, on a day trip.
About 50 minority groups, such as the Miao and the Dong, live in the province. They celebrate myriad colourful festivals, many involving courtship rituals for the youth.
The Miao village we visit, comprising more than 1,200 households, is touted as the world's biggest village of the ethnic minority, who number more than eight million in China. It is described as an open-air museum and visitors are introduced to Miao traditions, beliefs and performances.
Dancers sway to the strains of the lusheng, a reed pipe that can be 3m high. One man trills birdsong from a flimsy whistle made from leaves. A soaring choral performance gives me the chills. The women wear masses of prized silver, their necklaces and headdresses jingling hypnotically.
Symbols from the rich oral tradition of the Miao are sewn onto their famous embroidered clothing. Butterfly motifs reflect their creation myth of Mother Butterfly, which laid 12 eggs from which humanity and the rest of the world emerged.
The Miao are also known elsewhere as the Hmong. Their diaspora has spread as far as the United States, where Hmong refugees from Laos resettled after the war of the US against communist forces in South-east Asia.
There are many distinct Miao sub-groups. The Long-horn Miao, for instance, are known for their huge horn-shaped headdresses, traditionally made from the hair of their ancestors.
Our tour guide Huang Yong, 40, says: "There are long-skirt Miao, short-skirt Miao and mini-skirt Miao." I think he is pulling my leg, but then, some of the dancers in traditional costumes show a lot of it.
The souvenir shops sell specialities, such as ox-horn combs and peanut candy, against a backdrop of traditional wooden homes built on hillsides, some with air-conditioning units. A pig, cut into pieces with its head sold intact, is laid on the ground for sale at a roadside market stall. It seems too real.
According to legend, Prince Grigory Potemkin, a lover of Russian empress Catherine the Great, set up fake villages with pasteboard facades when the 18th-century ruler visited Crimea.
I am reminded of the term Potemkin village, named after the Russian statesman, which denotes an impressive appearance concealing something undesirable.
I wonder how much is hidden when tourists swarm. In this intriguing Miao village, it is a question that is hard to pose. It is like asking the employee playing Snow White in Disneyland what living with seven dwarfs is like.
But elsewhere in Guizhou, I hope for another glimpse of rainbows and water.
It is a yearning for something inexpressible, while being content to never quite grasp it.
"Someday, we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me."
• The writer's trip was hosted by Jetstar.
Blessing troubled waters