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Published: December 24th 2007
Tibet
Before I left for Nepal, I didn’t really know whether I would go to Tibet. I had heard stories on previous trips about this mysterious land and how travelers who wanted to visit Tibet had to do so smuggled in the back of a truck out of Nepal. The notion of crossing the Himalayas in a truck sounded amazing but the reality I’m sure would be very different. Tibet has been under Chinese rule for over 50 years and they decide when and for whom visas will be issued. Over the last fifty years the borders have been closed and reopened many times. The easiest way to get to Tibet is to go from China but having no plans to go there, I would have to go from Nepal. From Nepal the only legal way to go there is to take a week long tour from Kathmandu to Lhasa crossing over the mighty Himalayas in Land Cruisers. After a few days of deliberation I thought now would be a good time to go. I had just come back from the Everest Base Camp trek which meant I might find acclimatizing to the high altitudes a little bit easier than
Children playing on pipes
End of the Kali Gandeki rafting tripthose coming straight from the low lands. Decision made I told Nakul from my guest house of my new plan but he promptly told me the borders had just been closed and all trips were cancelled for at least the next two weeks. I checked it with one of the travel companies in Kathmandu who confirmed this was true and then made new plans.
Rafting on the Kali Gandaki
I took a bus to Pokara which was supposed to be a luxury bus for tourists. With two other couples we were squeezed into the back of the old Tata bus jammed with locals all returning home for a festival, equivalent to Christmas for us. After eight hours of driving through windy mountain roads over potholes we arrived in Pokara and I signed up for a 3 day rafting trip on the Kali Gandaki River for 90 US$. The next day I got up at 7am, packed my bags, bought some fake Teva sandals for $7 an went to the restaurant to meet the rest of the group. I had breakfast with a mix of Irish, French, Dutch and English and then we set off in another similar bus
Barry, Emmet, Me
Good Irish beards! from the previous day with all the gear strapped to the roof. Again we drove through never ending twisty roads, passing numerous goat markets (it is tradition for every family to sacrifice a goat for the festival) with the Annapurna mountain range in the background. A couple of hours later we helped unload the bus by the river side and started assembling our rafts. Using hand pumps to inflate them looked quite easy but after 15mins of pumping under the hot sun my arms were burning from the effort. Everyone took turns and soon we were ready to go after our Nepali guide gave us our safety briefing which included what to do in case the raft flipped… The first two rapids were supposed to be the hardest around a grade 4. Our safety kayakers went first and we watched from the safety of the river bank as they negotiated the raging white water. We went next responding to orders barked by our guide and we raced down trying frantically to paddle when we were told to do so. A minute later we were all soaked but smiling and ready for more. We spent an hour an a half rafting
River Burial
Trisuli River, Nepal on the first day and finally stopped by the river bank to set up camp. Everyone helped unload the raft and the Nepali crew started to prepare our dinner. After sitting around chatting we had a great feed of spaghetti bolognaise Nepali style, chatted some more, played some cards and went to bed. The guys had made a tent by raising the oars with helmets on top and tying down a tarpaulin over them which provided a nice shelter from the morning dew… The next day we packed up, had a couple of hours rafting in the morning which was fun but cold as the morning sun was not yet high enough to warm us as we floated down between high rocky gorges. By lunch time we stopped at a beach by the river and as the crew prepared a cold lunch we played soccer against another rafting group who had also stopped here. An hour later we were now dripping with sweat and after stuffing our faces we set off again. During the two hours rafting in the afternoon we flipped the raft and all ended floating down the river though the rapids which was much more fun than
Elephant
Chitwan N.P. Nepal in the raft! This time we found a beach area to set up camp, played volley ball with some locals, had Dhal Bat (national Nepali dish) for dinner, bought a couple of beers from local teens and finished the evening playing cards. We slept under the raised rafts held up by the oars with a clear view of the bright stars and the moon reflecting on the river.
The third day was spent messing. Flipping the raft on purpose was achieved by all of us sitting on one side and entering the rapids sideways, seconds later we found ourselves under the raft trying to remember our safety briefing on how to get out! We also boarded the other raft which had only flipped once to throw them all overboard and make it more fun for them. Eventually we were at the finishing point and after carrying everything (including the rafts) up a steep hill to the bus we had lunch and drove back to Pokara at extremely high speeds. Equipment and bags bounced around the back of the bus, I clung to the seats and people banged their heads of the ceiling as the driver negotiated sharp bends with steep
drop offs to one side like a formula one driver going for the checkered flag…
Chitwan National Park
I spent a week in Pokara working on my blog, relaxing, rowing and swimming on the lake during the day. At night my time was spent eating and drinking beer in the many restaurants by the lake side. With more time to kill I signed up for a two day tour of Chitwan national park that would leave from Pokara and get me back to Kathmandu. The bus to Chitwan was again full of people, I had no leg room and a few hours later I was glad to get into the back of a jeep with two American guys on the way to our lodge. It was a great feeling to find out that they had paid 30 US$ extra than me for exactly the same tour! We wandered around and I bumped into a friend from home who I had not seen for two years and didn’t even know she was traveling!
Chitwan National Park is situated in the low lands close to the Indian border and therefore it was nice and warm in comparison to the other
places I had been to in Nepal. We visited the Tharu village, a local ethnic group of people who used to be the only ones living in the area as they are immune to malaria. Now malaria is no longer a problem here and anyone can live here. They were all in the fields harvesting rice by hand and then beating it to remove the cover from the grain before it can be bagged and sold all over Nepal. We walked through part of the National park, saw a few birds, missed the sunset and sat by the river drinking cold beer. Later we drank more beer and sampled large amounts of the local Roksi a cross between rice vine and beer.
The next day we went on a canoe ride down the river. The canoe was a long dug out wooden excuse for a boat and after one American dropped his camera into the brown water, the driver dived down and found it, unfortunately it would not turn on anymore. Two canoes were strapped together which proved to be very unstable but we floated down the river without anymore mishap. We saw two different types of crocodiles one with
a long skinny snout and safely made it to the shore where we disembarked and started our walk. We walked through tall grass as silently as we could so as not to attract the attention of Rhinos and avoid having one charge at us. Walking along a smaller river bank, we finally saw a Rhino from a safe spot relaxing in the water away from the heat of the sun. It didn’t even notice us and after taking a few shots we went to the elephant breeding centre. Here baby elephants gave us lots of attention by sticking their trunks through the wooden barriers looking for food. It was quite funny especially when one of the girls started pouring water from her plastic bottle into one of their trunks and the elephants bumped each other out of the way for a drink! Back at the river side we got into the water with two large elephants who took us in turns on their backs, splashing us with their trunks and throwing us of their backs into the strong current that didn’t affect them in the slightest. It was fun until I noticed the driver hitting the elephant with a small
Sunset
Chitwan N.P. stick in the same place on the back of its ear. Its skin was bruised and bleeding by constant lashing out at the same spot with the piece of bamboo. I am still not sure if this was a case of maltreatment or if it is necessary to keep the animals under control so that tourist can enjoy the experience… That evening we caught the sunset by the river and after watching the Tharu traditional dance (a show put on for tourists) we sampled more local Roksi until the early hours of the morning.
I awoke a few hours later and having no time for breakfast I hopped into the back of the jeep which brought me to the nicest bus I had been on so far in Nepal. The journey was supposed to take five to six hours. Nearly twelve hours later the bus arrived in Kathmandu. There had been an accident on the road which meant traffic was backed up causing a trail of dozens of kilometers of vehicles at a stand still for hours. Then coming into Kathmandu had been gridlock for hours and not knowing how far from the centre I was, I decided it was
On the road
Friendship Highway best not to walk and to stay put.
Leaving Nepal
In Pokara I had met Paul an English guy who had booked a Tibet tour on the 3rd of November the first time the borders were to be opened in three weeks. He gave me the number and said it was the cheapest one he had found. I rang the number from Pokara and booked to leave on the same date. I would spend an extra week there after the tour and then fly back to Kathmandu on the 17th of November. Back in Kathmandu I found the tour company, paid 737 US$ (this included visa fees, Land Cruiser trip, bed and breakfast for seven nights and the flight back to Nepal) and handed them my passport to be sent to the Chinese embassy for the visa and permits to be processed. Having also a plan to buy a new camera I needed lots of cash so I tried taking money with my cirus card which I never use. The machine gave back my card with no money and I later found out it had charged me as if I had received the money, this mistake would later
be sorted out but not without many hassles I could have done without...
Tibet
3rd November- Day 1
Having smashed my cheap Khao San Road (in Bangkok) alarm clock in frustration that it never went off, I had asked for a wake up call at five thirty, no one knocked but luckily I was awake anyway. As I finished packing a few cock roaches crawled out from the folds in my bag and after a quick check I grabbed my bags and walked through the Thamel district of Kathmandu to where my bus was departing. Again bags were loaded on the roof of a typical Indian Tata bus and we left at six thirty for the Tibetan border. We stopped off on the side of the road at a little restaurant where our first breakfast was provided (as part of the tour) which consisted of a measly piece of bread, an excuse for an omelet and some tea. We all chatted and introduced ourselves, Paul (UK), Macdarragh (Dublin), Maz (Scotland), Veronica and Luis (Mexico), Ricardo and Stephanie (Italy) a nice mix of different nationalities. A few hours later after constant windy roads we were stuck behind mass
Stone tower
Built by me, Ganden Monastery of buses and trucks at a place called Kodari and told we had to get off and walk to the border crossing. We walked uphill for twenty minutes with heavy packs, and then stopped for lunch before walking the rest of the way to the aptly named Friendship Bridge. Here hundreds of Nepali people and trucks were crossing the border in both directions. Hundreds of Tata trucks were at a stand still as queues of people were waiting patiently to be checked by Chinese guards standing high on concrete steps. Dressed in green uniforms they checked identity cards of people bringing cheap goods into Nepal from Tibet. Above them stood a huge concrete gate with Chinese script indicating that we were now about to enter China. The guy from the tour company introduced us to our guide who to our relief looked genuinely Tibetan as opposed to Chinese. He took our passports to what was presumably Nepali immigration and while we filled in forms, some other guy sprayed our bags with some unknown liquid. Walking up through a maze of Tata trucks and people we finally got to our transport for the next week, two Toyota Land Cruisers. As we
Tibetan plateau
Ganden Monastery got in people ran over to the drop by the road and being curious I got out to see what was happening. A woman was been helped up, who had apparently fallen down a drop of about ten meters into bushes below. Don’t know how she survived such a drop but luckily she seemed to be unharmed and just shaken.
Our driver took us up a terrible dirt road past more Tata trucks parked on the side of the road waiting to get checked before bringing their cargo back to Nepal. Witnessing the high security I was now glad I hadn’t tried to enter the country concealed in the back of one of these trucks. We went uphill for a short while to Zhangmu and got out at the immigration post for more custom formalities. Then our guide told us he would meet us at the cars at ten thirty tonight. Because of road works during the day the road to Nyalam is only opened during the night. It was now around two in Nepal, which meant here it was four fifteen and after half an hour of walking up hill through the town it was time for dinner and
Monks
Tashilhunpo Monastery we stopped in a Nepali restaurant for one last tasty Dhal Bat. The rest of the evening was spent playing pool and drinking Lhasa beer which tasted pretty bad after the good Everest Nepali beer.
We left around eleven as a convoy of dozens of Land Cruisers. It took us over two hours to drive thirty kilometers on one of the worst, bumpiest excuse for a road I have ever seen with vertical, overhanging cliffs to our right and presumably (too dark to see) vertical drop offs to out left. Later I found out from other travelers that came in the other direction during the day, that this was the scariest journey they had ever been on due to vertical drop offs inches away from the road, so in a way it was good that it was dark, even though we were deprived of the views. Every so often we were stopped for what seemed ages to pass various check points and a trail of lights could be seen following us from behind. We passed by shabby tents made out of plastic, canvas tarpaulins with people living inside them, the workers fixing this terrible road. It was one in the
Yak butter
its nauseating smell is found in all monasteries morning when we got to Nyalam and the cold and tiredness sent us all to bed where I slept very badly at 3750m. It was a huge height increase from 1200m at Kathmandu and all the acclimatizing I had done from my trek in Nepal was now well gone…
4th November- Day 2
We were supposed to get up at seven, I woke forty five minutes later and managed to get a quick breakfast which was as bad as the one we had the previous day. The guide came in, grumpily told us we were late and needed to get up on time from now on. After going back up stairs, I packed my bags totally out of breath. Myself, Paul, Mac and Maz left in the same jeep and as the sun came up it illuminated the surrounding brown rock mountains under a stunning blue sky. Again we drove on a very bad dirt road, the driver trying to avoid huge craters by driving over the smaller pot holes. Soon we made a photo stop, the first of many and admired the surrounding brown ridges with snow covered peak protruding up behind them in the distance. We
House toilet
At our drivers home, obviously for many people at once... drove over Tong- La Pass (‘La’ meaning pass) at 5120m and then stopped over La Lung-La Pass. At 5124m I got out of the jeep and once I took a few breaths I suddenly felt terrible. My head was killing me, I felt dizzy and nauseous and struggled to walk around. Luckily the felling of sickness passed within five minutes and left me with just a headache to admire the surrounding views. We were parked on a high plateau where two stone pillars rose up with thousands of prayer flags hung between the two fluttering in the cold wind marking the high pass. All around us in the direction we had come from, we could see the snow covered peaks of the Himalayas with Shishapangma 8012m (said to be the easier 8000m peak to climb although I doubt any of them are in any way easy) dominating the scene. We wandered around the maze of prayer flags taking in the spectacular views before driving on to the small Tibetan settlement of Gutso where I welcomed the change in altitude. There was plenty of activity in this single street town, with Tibetan traders selling all kinds of riffraff ranging from clothes
and various foods. Animal carcasses hung from wooden tripods as the locals sat around chatting, purchasing and trading goods.
We had lunch in a local restaurant where I had the meat curry which was bland and expensive. I found the toilet in the back of the courtyard which consisted of a rectangular hole in the floor, one was supposed to squat over this with waste falling a few meters to the ground where it obviously stayed there for a long time. The first Tibetan toilet experience was not the nicest but worst was to come… Before heading off I wandered around taking photos and watching the Tibetans going about their daily business.
Then we headed off again on the now tarred Friendship Highway, which was much more comfortable than the dirt track of the last two days. On the way we stopped a few times for nice clear views of Mount Everest with surrounding peaks about 80kms away on the horizon. A few hours later we stopped again for another checkpoint where we showed our passports and our piece of paper with the visa and permit on it. As I was drinking plenty of water to combat the altitude I
Pilgrim
Ganden Monastery went looking for the toilet. This one was completely revolting and consisted of a rectangular hole this time with a slipway leading down from it that was covered in human excrement. Retching from the smell I decided to go outside in the fresh air.
Back in the car we found ourselves listening to the driver’s only cassette tape of Tibetan pop music (every song sounds the same) for about the tenth time. Once or twice being plenty we tried to put on the iPod but found it was dead, then put on my mp3 player which lasted a while before it froze too and deceided that these electronics gizmos didn’t like the altitude any more than I did. We wandered around Gyatso-La Pass 5220m and took some photos of the great views of the Tibetan plateau covered in mountains as far as the eye could see.
After a long day of driving, we finally we got to Lhatse around six. There were no showers in the guest house and as I didn’t fancy using a cold bucket of water for washing we went in search of dinner. Passing a restaurant full of Chinese army officers with dozens of tasty looking
Horse
Gyantse dishes in front of them, we walked in to give the place a try. Suddenly, having barely touched their food, they got up and went outside where they lined up in their green uniforms before climbing aboard green double decker buses and were gone. We ordered an array of dishes and watched as the waitress dumped all the soldiers’ food when beggars would surely have eaten the lot and saved the waste. The meal was cheap and tasty and so far Chinese food was beating Tibetan food for us. Back at the guest house I went to bed in my sleeping bag and with two big duvets listening to music to forget my head ache, my burning eyes and the bitter cold.
5th November- Day 3
After spending most of the night awake and drinking water, I realized I had drunk over two and a half liters. I got up and had breakfast this time consisting of one egg and a small piece of bread. Our guide ate Tibetan Tsampa, barley flour that he kneaded with water and I decided not to complain about our breakfast. We left for Shigatse at ten, stopped at Tropu- La Pass 4950m
Chinese guards taking photos of a monastery
ironic, when you consider what their fathers did to monks and Tibetan people here... under a mass of prayer flags. A short walk up a small hill and we could again see the Tibetan plateau with its maze of mountains. Two and a half hours of driving later we were in Shigatse (3900m) and checked into a luxury hotel where I had an amazing hot shower, a big change from the last few nights’ accommodation. At five we got taxis to Tashilhunpo Monastery, the best preserved monastery in Tibet and traditional seat of the Panchen Lama. The Panchen Lama is the second most important Lama, after the Dalai Lama. In 1995 the Dalai Lama identified a boy as the reincarnation of the 11th Panchen Lama who was soon kidnapped by the Chinese authorities and a new Panchen Lama was named by the Chinese.
We saw the tombs of some Panchen Lamas, the ones that survived the Chinese destruction. We walked through small streets where once thousands of monks lived but now only around seven hundred remain. In the main assembly hall, the monks were chanting and praying in a large dimly lit room with the smell of yak butter hanging in the air. Inside the Chapel of Jampa- which houses the world’s largest gilded
Buddha
Gyantse Kumbum statue, stood a 26m high Jampa, the future Buddha surrounded by offerings of small denominational money notes, incent sticks and food. Black wicks were burning in large bowls of melted yak butter which sent a nauseating smell around the room.
Dozens of Chinese tourist walked around getting their photos taken showing the peace sign with their two fingers, probably completely brainwashed and totally unaware of what had happened in these monasteries fifty years ago.
In 1950 the Chinese People Liberation Army invaded Tibet to liberate them from what they claimed to be feudal slavery and from the tyranny of the Dalai Lama, a man who still to this day refuses to use violence as a means of resolving the conflict with the Chinese. Headed by Mao Tse-tung’s communist party, the army started the ‘Cultural Revolution’ following Mao dictum, ‘Destroy first and construction will look after it self.’
Over the next thirty years over one million Tibetans were killed in horrific ways and more than six thousands monasteries were bombed to the ground. The everyday Chinese believe what they read in their history books, that Tibet was ‘peacefully liberated’ from the clutches of the Dalai Lama. They also think that
Buddha?
Gyantse Kumbum China is providing Tibet with great help and pulling its people out of a miserable medieval time style of life when in reality the Tibetans are happy living the way they always did and the Chinese are slowly but surely destroying their culture. Chinese are been encouraged to immigrate to Tibet by been given grants to live there. The friendship Highway was built to allow more Han Chinese to easily immigrate to Tibet and now since 2007 the railway connecting China to Lhasa has been completed, mostly built by Tibetans working under slave labour conditions. China sees it as its gift to Tibet but it will only have disastrous consequences for the people of this country.
After the monastery we went into the town and stopped for some lovely street chips covered in chilly powder before we had dinner in the first nice Tibetan restaurant. Unable to find our way back to the hotel, we hopped into a taxi, showed the driver our hotel card and he drove us back where everyone went to bed for an early night.
6th November- Day 4
After packing our bags myself and Paul went downstairs and thinking everyone had left
for breakfast without us, we went to a local Chinese place where we pointed at what looked like porridge and some bread covered meat sticks. The soup like porridge tasted like egg and after a few brave mouthfuls we paid and left to find everyone was just getting up and we hadn’t missed breakfast at all! So we left and this time had a decent breakfast of omelet, toast, chips and coffee. Leaving the restaurant it was snowing, we drove out of Shigatse with big snow flakes falling from a grey sky and melting on the ground.
Our driver drove to his family home (which was on the way) so we could see what a typical Tibetan home is like. We left the highway onto a dirt road for a few kilometers, parked by a big stone wall and walked into a courtyard with cats, dogs, a cow and a donkey. We went into the main house where it was instantly obvious from the smell that the animals slept downstairs and the people upstairs. At the top of the wooden flight of stairs we entered a brightly decorated room full of colours. We sat on the benches along the walls
Monks praying
main assembly hall, Sera Monastery with a weaving machine in the centre of the room. His family served us some Yak butter tea from a flask which I had read about but wasn’t too eager to try. It tasted disgusting, like salty water with rancid butter floating in it. Trying to be polite I drank most of it only to find the woman refilling my cup as I protested that I was ok. We ate ground up chick peas which caught in my throat and when I coughed the green dust went everywhere. Then they came out with some boiled potatoes, finally something we could eat and enjoy. I watched in disgust as Paul finished his third cup of yak butter tea, we thanked the family and all left a dozen untouched cups of the revolting tea on the table.
Next we stopped at a little mill where Tsampa is made. Roast barley is ground up into powder using the flow of the river passing under the building. A few tasters and a few photos later we gave the guy a donation a couple of yens and took off down the highway. A little later the Land Cruisers left the tarred road onto another dirt
road to the town of Gyantse at 3950m where to all our delight we checked into another nice hotel. Straight away we left on foot for Pelkor Chode monastery and walked up the many levels of Gyantse Kumbum, a 35m tall Chorten with its four sets of Buddha eyes gazing in all directions. Stopping at the many little chapels housing all kinds of different Buddhas on the way to the top, we had great views of the town and the Gyantse Dzong- a 14th century fort amazingly built on top of a steep rock hill. Back in the town, not having the courage to climb to the top of the fort, we opted to go back to the hotel for a nap before it was time to eat. That night we had another shared Chinese meal amongst all of us, a few Lhasa beers and went to bed as we had an early start in the morning.
7th November- Day 5
The alarm went off at five thirty but we only managed to get out of bed in the freezing cold at ten to six. The cars were already waiting outside with engines revving and our impatient guide
Monks talking
Tashilhunpo Monastery glaring at us that we were 2 minutes late. We left in the darkness and soon stopped at Karo-La Pass 5045m where we got out in the bitter cold to look at snow covered peaks dimly lit by the bright crescent moon and the faint glow of the stars. The drivers took us around Yamdrok- Tso (Tso meaning Lake) Lake which has recently been dammed by the Chinese for hydroelectric power. Considered a holy lake by Tibetans, the waters have receded since the dam was built and it is thought the lake will be dry in a few more years. We stopped and admired the view which would be gone if I ever came back here, and watched a Tibetan woman approach with her Yak. The beast had long flowing hair with red cloth weaved into its thick black coat and coloured ribbons attached to its horns. Paul and some of the others paid 5 Yen for the privilege of sitting on its back. I contented myself with taking a photo of a Tibetans big dog which was wearing a huge red cloth collar. As soon as I did a local Tibetan asked me for 5 Yen. Annoyed at being
Debating monk
Debating courtyard, Sera Monastery half conned into taking a overpriced photo, I turned around and said no, but he followed me all the way back to the cars and was now getting louder, still asking for his unearned money. I locked myself in the car as he stood at the door violently shaking his fist at me. I smiled and waved at him as we drove away back down to the Friendship Highway for the final drive to Lhasa the capital of Tibet. At 3595m it is the highest capital city in the world.
For centuries Lhasa has been known as a forbidden city, steeped in mysteries attracting explorers and travelers from all over. Imagining something totally different, we entered the city on a very modern highway and drove past endless Chinese concrete buildings with Chinese guards in green uniforms standing immobile on small concrete steps. Then we were in the Muslim quarter of Lhasa where the buildings looked older and more like I had imagined. We checked into a hotel in this area and were glad to find that the rooms were heated.
A while later myself and Paul walked to Barkhor square in the heart of Lhasa, what is left of the
old city. Hundreds of Pilgrims come from all over Tibet on pilgrimages that sometimes last for years. They have square wooden planks strapped to their hands, wear old dirty canvas aprons for prostrating themselves on the ground as they walk from their home towns to Lhasa doing this every few steps along the road. They get to Barkhor square and walk to the Jokhang Temple prostrating for hours on end, their foreheads black from the dirt of the roads and paths they have taken to get here. Others walk in a clockwise direction around the temple prostrating, uttering mantras and prayers and spinning their prayer wheels which in turn are carved with more mantras. It is an amazing sight watching their devotion and it feels like you are taken back in time until you spot the cameras and Chinese police watching from around the square.
Later we went to a western style restaurant and I was bitterly disappointed when my spaghetti carbonarra resembled nothing like it should, a beer later and I was in bed totally shattered.
8th November- Day 6
I had my first great night sleep in ages and needed it badly. We ate our free
breakfast which for once wasn’t too bad, then got a bus to Barkhor square (as part of the tour, even though it was walking distance). We visited the Jokhang, which is the most revered religious structure in Tibet. Hundreds of pilgrims queue up for hours to walk around its many chapels to place offerings of beads, money and Yak butter in front of the different Buddha statues housed in the small rooms around a large area where many monks sit cross legged chanting and praying. The whole room is full of the murmur of repetitive mantras and the smell of yak butter so nauseating that an escape to the fresh air on the roof is most welcome. We westerners skip past the devoted pilgrims as we get just a quick glimpse of this unique Tibetan experience. On the roof we watched in awe the complete devotion of these people as a stream of thousands of pilgrims walked clockwise around the Jokhang constantly prostrating. Above the buildings of Lhasa we had our first sight of the Potala, the palace of the Dalai Lamas which stands majestically above the rest of the city.
After a short bus ride (again we easily could
Yak and Tibetan Woman
The others paid 5Yen to sit on this beasts Back have walked), we were gazing up at the massive structure of the red palace carved deep in the mountain rock. We entered through the side, passed some small white houses and started up some steep white steps. My lungs burned and I was quickly out of breath as the glare of the sun on the bright white walls of the palace blinded my eyes. My bladder full I found the toilet, again a hole in the ground but this time the drop down must have been at least ten meters high to a slipway below… We followed the circuit around the interior of the palace which leads tourists around the chapels, and tombs of previous Dalai Lamas in an anti clockwise direction in a characteristic Chinese disregard for Tibetan religious traditions. Passing hundreds of gold sculptured Buddhas, walls of prayer books, the Dalai Lama‘s personal bedroom with its huge bed side clock we realized how dormant and lifeless the Potala really is which is a grim reminder of the fact the leader of Tibet has to run his country in exile from Darmasala in India.
Two hours later we had seen enough and we continued on to Sera Monastery a
'No photos'
Chinese guards, didn't realise i actually got the shot! short drive north of Lhasa. In comparison to some of the other monasteries Sera mostly survived the destruction brought on by the Cultural Revolution but the monk population didn’t and now only a few hundred monks live here instead of five thousand who lived here prior to 1950. The highlight of the place is found in the debating courtyard watching the monks debate. One monk sits down on the pebbled ground while the other asks questions to test the other’s knowledge. Every few seconds the monk standing lifts up high on one leg, pulls back one hand and smacks his hands together in a violent gesture close to the sitting monk’s face to emphasis a point. All dressed in bright red robes it is amazing to watch them as the courtyard is alive with the buzz of voices and the clapping of hands. We walked around many chapels all housing again different Buddhas. In one chapel an old man gestured for us to put our foreheads on a stick he was holding against a Buddha and as he held our head firmly he chanted some mantra. A nod of the head and the next one of us was blessed before
we left and rejoined the waiting bus. For the first time our guide spoke to us for more than a couple of minutes. He told us Drepung Monastery (which we were due to visit next) was closed because some American tourists had celebrated the fact that the Dalai Lama had received an award from George Bush in the U.S. by cracking open a bottle of champagne in the monastery, loudly attracting attention to themselves. This had probably given false hope to the Tibetan pilgrims present and the Chinese authorities reacted by shutting the monastery to other tourists. As our guide spoke in whispers he constantly was looking over his shoulder. Later I found out he had told Paul and Mac about his escape to Nepal over the Himalayas followed by being caught on his was back before being thrown into prison enduring some nastiness from the Chinese. No wonder he was so paranoid and reluctant to talk to his customers. It was a shame because on the last day of the tour we realized he was quite a funny and interesting character with no doubt a lot to say if given the chance.
Starving, back in Lhasa, myself and Paul
went on an eating rampage of street food, chili powdered covered chips, super spicy noodle soup, strange Chinese sausage, ice-cream and fruit. After stuffing our faces we went back to the hotel, showered and met the others for a last dinner together which proved to be one of the worst so far… Once finished we found a bar and drank some Tibet green barley beer while listening to Tibetan music which sounded strangely similar to ‘Seanos Singing’ and Irish traditional music in the background.
9th November- Day 7
I spent most of the night on the toilet but luckily escaped the stomach cramps usually associated with diarrhoea. I stayed in bed until twelve and finally got the courage to wander outside. Paul went for some more super spicy street noodles and given the state of my stomach I passed. While he ate an old woman sat opposite us mumbling prayers as she held some prayer beads passing them through her fingers. With two words she communicated her feelings for the Chinese, ‘Tibet’ she whispered, accompanied by smiles and thumbs up, then ‘China’ followed by angrily grimacing gesturing her fist in the air. It was a great moment as
this was the first time a Tibetan had voices an opinion about the situation in the country.
The rest of the day we spent looking for a cheaper new hotel as the tour was over. I was too weak to check out the rooms up the many flights of stairs and left Paul with that job. It was enough for me checking out the many toilets I needed to use during the day. We also looked at notice boards for any travelers looking to share Land Cruisers for a four day trip around the monasteries of the province of U as well as a visit to Nam-Tso Lake. We asked in several travel agencies but they all said the road to the lake was closed due to snowy conditions. Then we put up our own notice telling people interested, to find us at Tengilink café later that evening. At seven o’clock we met Brian an American guy looking to do the same trip as us in the café and told him we would be in contact when the road would open again.
10th November- Day 8
After sleeping like a log, I had a shower, packed and we
Roof corner
Jokhang, Lhasa left. Finally we found a nice room similar to our previous one, with two big double beds but without inside bathroom which was way cheaper. The other drawback was that the only window present looked out into an indoor courtyard which meat no sunlight could heat the cold room during the day. Deciding to go to Samye Monastery the next day, we followed the Lonely Planet’s directions on where to buy bus tickets. Down an alley way we found the red walls, walked up the steps to an apartment where a Tibetan man ushered us through a closed door and found ourselves in a small chapel. Unsure if we were in the right place to buy bus tickets we asked some monks who laughed, told us to go back out to Barkhor square and then didn’t understand the rest. Finally after a lot of trying to ask people who spoke not a word of English, a police man got a local who showed us a small metal shack hidden away amongst some stalls. No idea what the guide book had been on about, we got two tickets for a bus leaving the next morning at five thirty for Samye.
Next
we wandered back to the Potala and took many shots of the palace, on the way back we chatted to a Tibetan girl and English woman who lived and taught in the university here. That evening was spent Skpying people back home as the connection was not too bad, but it finally deteriorated in the end.
I got very little sleep that night as it was Paul’s turn to get sick. Unlike me he seemed to have got a worse dose and was up all night emptying his system from both ends… I made a concoction of salt, sugar and water for him to drink and there was not much else I could do but listen to his moans and groans as his stomach cramped up through the night.
11th November- Day 9
I stayed in bed late as there was no way Paul was going anywhere today, and I still didn’t feel in the best of shapes. I went downstairs and tried to explain to the girl at reception we were staying another day. Luckily an Indian woman who spoke good English was sitting near reception heard about Paul’s situation, took me to a chemist and kindly
bought some diarrhoea medicine. I took it back to Paul, had a dose of the medicine myself and went for a wander around Lhasa on my own.
I wandered around the Jokhang, and as I was standing taking sneaky photos of the passing pilgrims, a young Tibetan guy and his friends started talking to me. They were students and just wanted to practice their English. Only one really spoke properly and he told me other tourist usually walk away from them, probably thinking they are trying to sell something. I asked him about the population of Lhasa and finally got him talking about the Chinese, who he said he hated especially the government. He told me that Chinese people in Tibet do bad things to Tibetan people, Tibetans have no opportunities, have no passports, no freedom and that the Chinese are destroying the Tibetan culture. He also told me about the cameras watching around the Jokhang and after asking for a photo of me with his him and his friends, he said they should go becauses the police were watching them and he was scared. It was a sobering experience to have a Tibetan talk about the situation of his
country and I was glad I had heard it from a local. I then bought myself a Tibetan hat after a quick easy bargain from 160 Yen down to 35 Yen!
Back at the hotel Paul was feeling better and had spent the day reading in bed in the freezing room where I could see my breaths in the cold air.
I went back to Tengyling Café to see if anyone else had read our notice and was invited by a Chinese guy and Canadian guy to joint them for dinner. I was dyeing to ask the Chinese what he taught of the situation here in Tibet but didn’t have the courage and later got talking to a French couple who wanted to do a day trip to Ganden Monastery the next day. I organized to meet them in the morning so we could share a taxi and then wandered off back to the Potala to take some night shots of the illuminated palace in the night.
12th November- Day 10
We had breakfast with Pascal and Tatiana, the French couple and then went in search of a taxi. Luckily Tatiana spoke Chinese, she haggled with two different
Debating monks
Sera Monastery drivers who were in cahoots and wouldn’t budge on their price. Then a woman driver waved us over and after twenty minutes of arguing and gestures from Tatiana and the woman, we were leaving Lhasa with what we taught was a good price, our driver though still wasn’t convinced but she didn’t want to lose the fare. It took about an hour along the main highway east of the capital on a nice paved road before climbing steeply up a windy road leading to Ganden Monastery up at 4500m. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining in a crisp blue sky and the monastery looked stunning perched high between the top of two hills. We walked around its chapels, then up to the top of one of the surrounding hills. Here we had fantastic views of the Tibetan plateau, its numerous mountains, and the windy road leading up to the monastery. From our vantage point we could clearly see the parts of the monastery that had been destroyed which lay in ruins amongst newer buildings. A monk sat reading his book as I read the monastery pamphlet written by the Chinese for tourists, claiming the area was now
a protected site since 1961 with of course no mention made of what had happened the previous decade… Back in Lhasa as we checked more notice boards to find fellow travelers for our Nam-Tso trip, we met Andrew an Australian who was interested if we left Nam-Tso until last due to the fact it was at over 5000m and he was still suffering the effects of the altitude. I rang the guy from the cheapest travel agents, who said that was fine and organized to be picked up I the morning. Later we let the American guy know our plans, said he would join us and went home after dinner to pack and sleep.
13th November-Day 11
We met our new companions over a great breakfast of banana pancake covered in yogurt and honey. Our driver finally showed up at ten (an hour late), he tried to charge us 2800 Yen but we paid him the 2500 Yen for the 4 day trip we had agreed on before and left Lhasa on the same road we had driven on the previous day. Soon the driver pulled over and after some confusion we finally figured out that if he
Tidrum nunnery toilet
With very little privacy passed the next police checkpoint before a certain time, the police would fine him for speeding (over 40km/ h). Then we noticed that the other half dozen vehicles all parked up on the side of the highway doing the same thing. Once it was safe to pass the checkpoint we took off, we stopped again to take photos of thousands of people (all Tibetan) working in the fields on some sort of drainage system. We continued on up to Tidrum Nunnery sandwiched in a valley between surrounding peaks. We found a shabby room for nearly the same price as we had paid for our hotel in Lhasa, with small beds, dirty duvets and broken windows.
We went down to some amazingly hot springs with a beer in hand and stayed there until my stomach forced me back into my clothes to look for the toilet. I needed to go very soon and having no toilet paper I stopped at the nunnery shop, a window to a house where a few nuns sat inside chatting around a pile of different junk ranging from biscuits to cigarettes. I frantically asked for toilet paper, not understanding what I wanted, I mimed what I
frozen boxers
After the hot springs, we hung our shorts to the window, later we found them totally frozen! need to use it for and was handed a dirty rag. In frustration I went back to the room struggled to unlock the American’s combination lock, found the end a toilet roll, went back down to the little shop and finally got what I wanted. The only toilet I found was by the frozen stream and consisted of a small wall about a foot high around two holes in the ground where previous users had obviously missed their targets. Having no choice I squatted and did my business as Nuns and locals walked past me as if they couldn’t see me. The only positive point about this toilet was that it was so exposed and frozen that there was no smell from its contents spilling out into the frozen stream below.
For dinner I struggled to eat a potatoes yak curry as I had many more trips to make to the toilet that was now completely in the dark with this time only the faint glow of some starts watching me in the bitter cold of the night.
Earlier after the hot spring we had hung our shorts to the windows and now back in the room it was so
Sun rising
Drigung Til Monastery cold we found to our amusement, that the shorts were completely frozen solid.
Wrapped in my sleeping bag, under a mass of damp duvets I tried to read my book but found it was too cold to keep my hand out of the covers so I gave up and tried to get some sleep.
14th November- day 12
The night before, we had planned to get back into the hot springs before we left but now at six thirty in the morning, getting out of our beds was a struggle enough never mind getting undressed outside to go for a swim. There was no sign of the driver and we wondered if we had understood him correctly when he had traced the time we were supposed to get up at, on his hand with his finger. Again he was late and we carried our bags up to the car as he attempted to start the car in the cold night air. When the Land Cruiser finally did start it could not make it up the hill. It was as if he was trying to go up in 3rd gear and we started thinking something was seriously wrong with
Vulture
On its way to the Sky Burial site... this car. He got out and looked under the bonnet mumbling something about it being a ‘no good car’. Half an hour later from the restaurant below, the sun starting to come out, we saw the car slowly wheel spin its way up the hill and wait for us as we panted our way up the steep path after it.
We drove in the cool morning air as Andrew looked at his alarm clock and read a temperature of minus six degrees in the car. We made our way to Drigung Til Monastery perched high on the side of a hill, and from there the views of the valley down below were surreal as the sun came up over the mountains. Again we visited a small chapel, passed and turned endless amounts of prayer wheels set in the walls around a large red Chorten.
(Those sensitive souls- skip this part...)
We were ready to leave when the driver told us to walk up a path leading to a hill above the monastery. Out of pure laziness we were about to turn around when a few local guys told us to come with them up the path. Not knowing where they
were taking us we followed them up. Soon we passed a sign listing rules for Sky Burials and having heard of this Tibetan custom we curiously needed to see for ourselves and as the locals had invited us we thought nothing if it and continued up. Following the trail of local guys we noticed the vultures flying overhead in the same direction as us, with wing spans of at least two meters. A short while later we arrived at a square enclosure surrounded by a metal fence. A sign saying ‘no photos’ hung from it made us put away our cameras out of respect for what we were about to see. The local guys we had followed up entered and they made us understand we should stay outside the enclosure. I watched in horror as two people wearing stained aprons swung huge stone mallets down onto a stone altar covered in a red mushy pulp. Next I noticed the vultures; there were hundreds of them standing as tall as children waiting for their feed. Then one of the butchers grabbed the red mush and threw it to the waiting birds and the closer ones all jumped onto it to devour
Mountain scape
on the way to Reting Monastery it, while the rest waited patiently for their turn.
Suddenly one of the people in the aprons started shouting at the vultures and it wasn’t until some stones came cashing into the fence that we realized we were not welcome to witness this burial. In a state of shock at what we had just seen we left as another local shouted at us. It was a nasty experience and felt betrayed, especially after being invited by locals and told by our driver to go up. Later I read in the lonely planet, we should have had consent from the local Lama and the family of the deceased before attending the Sky Burial. On the way back down we passed two Tibetans carrying a body which was wrapped in a white cloth and laid on a stretcher, followed by a little tractor with half a dozen more wrapped bodies in the back of its trailer.
After death, all Tibetans are brought out to the country to Sky Burial sites where special body breakers cut off the bodies hair, chop it up into smaller pieces and then pound the pieces with big mallets together with Tsampa (roasted barley flour) for vultures to
Tree and monk
Reting Monastery eat. They do not see this as a terrible way of burying their dead; it is merely a way of disposing of a body after the soul has departed. Death is seen as a spiritual progress towards the next life and the human body an unimportant shell, in the same way Indian and Nepali people burn their dead and send them floating down a holy river.
Glad to get out of there, we left in the Land Cruisers trying to make sense of the experience I wasn’t in a hurry to see again.
We stopped at a small village and had some delicious noodle soup in a local house. After paying we were on our way again for four hours of terrible dirt roads through beautiful valleys and mountains with frosted peaks. At Phongdo, a little settlement we bought some water and an assortment of biscuits for lunch. Built amongst juniper forests, Reting Monastery is still in the process of being rebuilt. All around the main assembly hall are a series of big Chortens built around the ruins of the old monastery which was razed to the ground by Chinese artillery fire. After destroying it, they turned it into a
Monk
Reting Monastery preserved site of national heritage as if nothing had happened.
We decided to stay at the monastery rather than back in Phongdo village and thankfully got a warmer room than the previous night. Ordering dinner proved difficult as the monks claimed not to understand our pleas for food, even when we mimed eating. Finally they cooked up a stew and after finishing it we retired to the room for yet another cold night of sleep.
15th November- Day 13
I woke up at nine to the sound of the Land Cruiser running; eager to get back to Lhasa the driver was taking no chances. We drove back through Phongdo and joined the paved Quingai Tibet Highway which follows the new train track back to Lhasa. Frosted peaks rose to our left with towering snow covered mountains to our right with Nam-Tso Lake somewhere behind them. At Yangpachen we had a filling Chinese lunch and were told by the driver that the road to Nam-Tso was still closed of due to the heavy snow falls over the high pass. So our trip was cut short by a day and instead of seeing the famous lake, we drove to Tsurphu
Tree
Reting Monastery Monastery on the way back to the capital. It was a long and bumpy drive there but with yet again stunning views. The monastery was set at the end of the valley surrounded by different coloured Chortens with even a green one. The buildings looked very new and inside; painters were decorating the wooden beams with intricate colourful patterns. We wandered around the grounds as some pilgrims did their rounds constantly swinging prayer wheels. Having seen enough monasteries in the last few days, we headed back to Lhasa eager for hot showers, better toilets and nicer food.
16th November- Day 14
In the morning Paul tried to get a taxi to the train station, to buy his ticket to China but the drivers didn’t understand where he wanted to go even when he acted like a train and said ‘Tchoo-Tchoo?’. We went back to the travel agent who wrote down the word for train station in Chinese and Paul then got a taxi.
I walked back to the Jokhang where another young Tibetan student and his friend started talking to me. They asked me to walk around the temple with them as the police would take less notice
Himalayas
Just before the Quingai Tibet Highway of us this way and this time they themselves quickly brought up the subject of the Chinese occupation. We talked about freeing Tibet, money and wisdom, then it was time for them to go back to college for their next lecture and we parted company.
The rest of the day I spent on the internet and I tried to find where the shuttle to the airport left from. I asked a guy in an airline booking shop. I had to draw pictures of a plane and a bus as he spoke no English and he wrote the numbers eight and nine. Later we had some beers with Andrew and Brian before returning to the hotel.
17th November- Last day
I said goodbye to Paul as he left for the train station, and after packing I checked out of the hotel and opted for the easier option of getting a taxi to the airport. I hopped into one and showed the driver my piece of paper with the plane drawing on it. He tried to overcharge and as I started to get out of the car, he quickly stopped me and agreed with the normal price. The drive took
Prayer flag seller
Quingai Tibet Highway forty five minutes and we passed through a long tunnel through a mountain. Recently built it now cuts fifty kilometers of the drive, another gift from the China to Tibet providing easier access to the capital for Chinese immigrants to take over the country.
The airport looked brand new but it was like a huge freezer and I was now really looking forward to getting back to a warmer climate in Kathmandu.
As the plane passed along side the Himalayas (the height of Everest being just under cruising altitude for commercial airliners), I got a glimpse of the mighty mountains from my aisle seat and I wondered if the plane tilted as all the passengers stood on the same side peering out the small windows, admiring the unique views.
Since my two weeks in Tibet I have finished reading ‘Seven years in Tibet’ by Heinrich Harrer, the German who found refuge in Lhasa before the Chinese invasion. The picture he paints of the country is very different to what it is like now and it is an insight to what the Chinese have done to Tibet. I also watched the movie ‘Seven years in Tibet’ along with Martin Scorsese’s
‘Kndun’ about the Dalai Lama’s life. Along with Joe Simpson’s Book ‘Storms of Silence’, they show some of the horrors committed by the Chinese to a peace loving nation on the roof of the world as the West did nothing to stop a genocide that ranks with some of the others that happened in modern history. By visiting the country I guess I contributed to the Chinese economy but going there made me realize the extent of the Chinese take over. In Ireland we had a similar situation with the English and chose to fight back something that Tibet cannot do on its own without the help of a stronger power. By writing this account of my travels there, I hope others too will realize the struggles of this vast country set high on the roof of the world. Surrounded by the highest mountains on earth, Tibet is isolated from the rest of the world and easily forgotten having one of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen.
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