Tibet to Nepal

Simon writes:

Yesterday we entered Nepal, our sixteenth country, via two roadblock-based protests against uninvestigated deaths (delay: 4 hours). We've come half way across the world with (among other things) two jars of nutella, two jars of peanut butter, 3 sleeping sheets, a headlamp, a motion-powered torch, a mosquito net, a vast and largely untouched store of medical supplies and two toy penguins.

So now, with our bloody-minded antipathy to air travel still just about in tact, we're thinking about how to get back again. But before we get into that particular minefield (perhaps quite literally!), here's some other stuff.

You're about to read a list of 10 things I/we did in Tibet. Yes, I realise I've used this format before but we've been on the road for five and a half months and, at this stage, originality is for greater men than I.

1. Gave painkillers to a monk with a sore throat.
2. Discovered I have electric long johns(static sparks literally flew at night!).
3. Drank "Jolly Shandy" and realised I'm going to end up with a bunch of rubbish postcards cos there's only ever a couple decent ones in each set you buy.
4. Got a Tibetan lesson from a young monk/local jester (see pic).

This fella was a legend. If he wasn't a monk he'd be an international superstar. He spoke good Chinese and with my very bad Chinese and his joyous gesticulations we were able to understand each other. Topics discussed over fried potatoes and yak butter tea (I didn't actually have any that time cos I'd tried it before and it's rank) included: the Middle East, Barack Obama (he was a fan) and the Chinese (he wasn't a fan).
5. Met a monk in Shigatse called Friday (Basang in Tibetan) who said that China is a cage for people like him. Very sad.
6. Played frisbee at Everest base camp with an intrepid/crazy Canadian who was wondering round Tibet without a permit or a guide. He said he thought he was going to die a couple nights before when he was sleeping out in the open. Rather you than me mate. Still, an amazing individual with some incredible travel stories. Here are some pics from that day:



7. Promised to pass on a letter from a grateful Tibetan guide/shepherd to an old English lady (if I can find her) who'd looked after him while he'd been in exile in India.
8. Ate traditional Tibetan village food: mutton with tsampa (barley grain). For those of you familiar with coarse fishing, tsampa looks and (I imagine) tastes like ground bait. Filling, if nothing else...
9. Rode the highest railroad in the world to Lhasa and saw antelope, Tibetan wild asses (like horses, just in case there's any confusion) and wild yaks from the windows.
10. Met two friendly cyclists from Edinburgh, exchanged travel information and became enthused about getting home via Pakistan and Iran. More on that to follow no doubt.

Assorted Tibet pics:

Lhasa

Noelle writes:

Sorry photos will have to follow as I can't seem to upload any at the moment.

Wow Lhasa is amazing! A lot of people thought we were crazy for wanting to go to Tibet in January but I have to say that I think it is probably the best time to be here in Lhasa. There are hardly any tourists, Western or Chinese, and the place is filled with Tibetan pilgrims from the countryside.

The following are some scenes from the Johang Temple in the centre of Lhasa.

Potala Palace

Drepung Monastery which is the largest monastery in Tibet and possibly the world. It recently housed a few thousand monks but after the protests of March 2008 it now houses a mere 500, the rest are in prison.

Since the protests last March the military is apparent all over the city (on every street corner) and in all of the tourist attractions. Even on the roof as seen in this photo.

We begin our overland adventure to the Nepal border tomorrow.

Hey Prescott!

Simon writes:

I have two points of interest to report to you, dear readers:

1. We languished in Chengdu for three days and failed to get any form of timely transport out of there other than a standing ticket for a 24-hour train ride in third class (see previous post for the full horror of what that would have entailed). Then, a miracle of miracles occurred about one hour before the journey of slow death was to begin. As we were returning some tickets we had found out would not have got us to Xining in time to start the Tibet tour (the Chinese authorities insist on you being on a tour for Tibet these days) we asked in desperation if there were any sleeper ticket returns and came up trumps! Cue wild, lottery-style-winning celebrations in the ticket hall, to the bemusement of several onlookers.

We're now in Xining and the ride on the highest railway in the world starts tonight. I'm practically weeing myself with excitement.

2. On a visit to Chengdu's panda breeding centre we came across an unlikely picture of former UK Deputy Prime Minister and national laughing stock John Prescott (see pic of pic).

I found myself wrestling with the question: which one most belongs in a zoo?
More pics of pandas for your perusal:

Tibetwards

Simon writes:

As the over-sized pot noodle continued to repeat on me and the Smoke Yourself to Death Competition that is third class train travel in China entered its eight hour, I wondered why exactly we're putting ourselves through this. But I've just been looking back through some photos of Lijiang (see below) and, well, it kinda makes sense really.



Incidentally, smoking is banned in the carriages of all Chinese trains, but on our latest overnight non-sleeper schlep this rule was routinely and consistently ignored, as were bilingual notices instructing passengers not to throw heaps of rubbish out of the windows or expectorate balls of phlegm inside the carriage. All this, combined with the malodorous perfume of reconstituted meat products and the bolt-upright seating position rendered sleep impossible for yours truly.

As the Chinese take to the rails in their hundreds of millions for Chinese New Year (the madness has started early apparently), we may have to repeat the above process to get to Tibet, only this time for 24 hours! Calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea, calm blue sea...

Tiger Leaping Gorge will have to wait

Noelle writes:

So our plan today was to take the bus north of Lijiang (where we are now) to the beginning of Tiger Leaping Gorge and start our trek along the gorge tomorrow. We were also going to book some train tickets to Chengdu and then onto Xining where we will be starting our trip into Tibet and onto Nepal.

However, all did not go according to plan.

We got to the bus station after an hour of searching and having people point in all different directions only to find out that they couldn't arrange train tickets for us (which is what we had been told by our hostel). So instead of taking our chances on getting tickets last minute along with the half billion other people expected to travel this Chinese New Year we decided to leave Tiger Leaping Gorge until our next trip to China.

And to top off our travel woes we decided to spend our free afternoon cycling out to a lovely village outside of Lijiang. Problem was Simon got a flat halfway there so instead we found a nearby university bar to drink away our sorrows.

Next stop Chengdu hopefully if we can get train tickets.

Fun on the bus

Simon writes:

On the bus from Dali to Lijiang (Southwest China) we were subjected to a unique form of Chinese torture: a made-for-TV midget musical. At full volume. In Chinese. Apparently the Chinese find people with dwarfism funny. One of them had a mullet, but I don't think that was specifically intended to incite mirth. A bit distasteful really.

Still, when we got to Lijiang and I got lost looking for the hostel the town's citizens were unremittingly sweet in coming to my aid. Anyway, we're trying to organise permits for Tibet (fingers crossed) where it's a balmy -27C apparently. And you Europeans thought it was cold. Pah!

Simon writes:

We're back in China and heading North. I've still not been able to replace my long johns and we're going to Tibet. Hmm.

Anyway, before I update you cheeky people on a most glorious trek we did in the North of Laos I want to go back; way back! (actually I don't; I just always wanted to write that). I think it's appropriate to give a special mention on this blog to the driver of a bus (11 hours to go about 100 yards) we took in Laos. He is accorded this rare accolade purely because of his surprisingly cultured music collection. Rather than the simpering, weepy Thai pop that blights most bus journeys in Southeast Asia - the kind of music that makes you so angry and frustrated you want to gnore your own arm off and beat somebody to death with it - this guy played tunes by Lionel Richie, UB40, Eric Clapton and Belinda Carlisle. Given that all bus music is played at eardrum-bursting volume, this came as a welcome relief from the usual schlock. Well done to you mate!

Right, onwards: we went on a three-day hill tribe trek to isolated villages only reachable by foot, met two lovely Belgians and a lovely German (bottom pic), got freaked out by a rat in our bed at night and drank a tribal chief's rice whiskey/motorbike fuel in return for some books we donated to the village kids. Pics below: