What's New? - Page 79 of 156 - theonearmedcrab.com

(8) to Nepal

Blog entries

Tibetans on horseback, on the Tibetan plateau towards Nepal

The final stretch of the Friendship Highway, with more spectacular mountain scape, before dropping 1000’s of meters to the Nepal border, and to Katmandu.

The road back to the Highway, so attractive in the morning, had now lost its appeal, paling into insignificance compared to our earlier experience, and was merely long. Arriving at the highway, we finally started to appreciate the road surface, despite it being just as dusty and corrugated as the day before. Everything is relative. Longing for a hot shower after a day’s drive, we were in for another accommodation shock, the Old Tingri Guesthouse. Although ‘old’ referred to the village, the guesthouse was nevertheless a very basic affair. No electricity until eight, when the generator was switched on. Communal toilets – which turned out to be private after all, since we were the only guests that night – and no running water, just a bucket outside our room, so forget about the hot showers, again. Although we were prepared for hardship, it just arrived at the wrong moment. And it was so cold!

nomad tents in the middle of nowhere

The next day we left again very early, still in the dark, for the final leg to Nepal. We continued on the Friendship Highway and crossed its last high pass, Lalung La at 5050 m, just after the sun had risen high enough to illuminate some of the most fabulous landscape imaginable, with snowcapped peaks wherever one looks. The cloudy sky provided a spooky atmosphere. It had been snowing lightly the night before, and the mountain slopes and the fields beside the road were covered with a thin white veil.

the Friendship Highway, and the view

some more snow-capped peaks

even here, a village, far from any others

irrgation on the alluvial fans even allows some agriculture

towards Nepal the road drops, and enters lush, green areas with waterfalls

After the pass we descended very rapidly, to reach Zhangmu, the Tibetan border town at 2770 m. This place is another dump, with garbage in the streets and families of pigs checking it out. It had been raining, and the mud added to the misery. No tarmac here. Yet, the village has the potential to look picturesque, perched against one side of the valley wall, with the river deep below. The scenery in the valley itself had changed during the last hour, or so, with first scrubs appearing, and later real trees, nice and green, the first real vegetation we had seen for some time. After passing customs in Zhangmu, the road descends another 1000 m within a distance of 10 kilometers, or so, to the bridge at Kodari, where we entered Nepal. Here, we were supposed to change cars, drivers and guides, a highly doubtful arrangement with lots of opportunities to go wrong, but, to our not insignificant surprise, our escort was indeed waiting for us, just across the bridge.

the border post in Nepal

If we had expected the Friendship Highway to improve in Nepal, we were in for another disappointment. The road to Kathmandu was closed thanks to two big landslides that had come down a few days earlier. Our Nepalese escort had arranged for several cars, also in between the landslides, to take us from one to the other. But he didn’t arrange for porters, there where we had to cross the mud and boulders that blocked the road. During those 45 minutes’ walk, with all our luggage on our backs, did we regret buying all those many artifacts in the past two weeks! And had we expected the end of our misery after the last landslide, we were disappointed yet again. The last driver turned out to be a real maniac, which, however, is nothing special in Nepal, something we learned upon getting closer to Kathmandu. Every driver is, in fact, a complete maniac. Traffic is complicated by not only cars and busses, but also numerous motor bikes from the ones who try to dodge the traffic jams, and by bicycle rickshaws and three-wheeled motorized rickshaws. They tend to drive on the left side, although a short cut here and there is perfectly acceptable as long as there is no policeman around. And all traffic only comes to an almost complete standstill if there are cows on the road, no matter whether they keep left or right.

We spent three days in Kathmandu, long enough to absorb some of the local atmosphere and to see the major sights, which concentrate around the palace squares of the city itself and it sister city, Patan, across the river. Both demonstrate an amazing architecture in temples and royal palaces, whilst the surrounding streets are the usual city centre chaos, complete with market stalls, narrow alleys, courtyards and a colourful mix of people. So close and yet so entirely different from Tibet.

elevation profile of the Friendship Highway, from Lhasa to Kathmandu: Tibet is up, Nepal is down (from http://mythsandmountains.com)

(7) To Mount Everest

Blog entries

Mount Chomolungma, also known as Mount Everest

The Friendship Highway, past Latse and Shekar, ultimately brings us to the turn off for Mount Chomolungma, Mount Everest to most: a fabulous sight.

After Shigatse, we joined the Friendship Highway, the road that connects Tibet with Nepal. Well, ‘highway’ only refers to altitude; in places it is indeed surfaced with tarmac, but soon, after the truck stop town of Latse, it turns into a dramatically poor condition dirt track, washed away in many places. Clearly four-wheel drive country.

Tibetan village

But even before Latse we had already crossed a 4800 m high pass. The mountains are back, with impressively high peaks on all sides, however, with remarkably little snow. This is just desert landscape, with hardly any precipitation, and only the highest mountains are snowcapped.

In this desolate environment is the Sakye Monastery, highly acclaimed by other tourists, although in my view actually somewhat disappointing. However, the road to Sakye, especially the 20 km track south of the highway, was truly beautiful, with the now familiar little white-washed villages perched against the foot of the mountains, people busy in the fields, and sheep and yaks grazing in the more inhospitable areas. The region is probably poorer that what we saw before; horses have been replaced by donkeys here.

Sakye Monastery perched against the mountains

part of the Sakye Monastery

inside the Sakye Monastery

also inside the Sakye Monastery

the blue-painted village in front of the monastery

Past Latse we crossed the 5260 m high Gyatso La pass, probably the highest point during our trip. It is only at this altitude we started to observe some snow and ice along the road. Nevertheless, the scenery from the pass was breathtaking, for as far as we had any breath left, and it got even better from the nearby hill, that supported a 360 degree view, albeit a cold and windy one. And there is abundant snow on the peaks on either side of the pass, the Pulha Ri and the Naargwan G (?), both just over 6400 m. Driving down from the pass to Shekar, where we were to overnight, we got our first glimpse of the real thing, the real high peaks of the Himalayas, far in the distance and largely cloud covered.

the view from the Pang La pass, with Mount Chomolungma in the distance

possibly a Tibetan Blue Sheep? (near Everest basecamp)

Shigatse had not been our favourite place, but it turned out to be paradise compared to Shekar, a small village located just before the turn off to Everest basecamp. The only reason to come to Shekar was to sleep, in one of the very few hotels in the surroundings. The hotel had a distinct look of an army camp, probably its earlier origin, although the small cubicle rooms were equipped with relatively new bathrooms. The showers, however, were of no use, without hot water, and despite its newness the sink was leaking. After three hotel experts had a go at repairing it, we ended up with a bucket under the, still leaking, sink, exactly like our own initial solution. As the restaurant was closed, and the local eateries in the miniscule village looked distinctly unappetizing, we resorted to the ultimate travel solution in China: instant noodles from the local shop.

another view of Mount Chomolungma, from the road

All hardship was quickly – though temporarily – forgotten early the next morning, when we got to the pass leading to the Everest basecamp. At seven in the morning, at 5150 m high Pang La pass, we had a fantastic view over some of Himalayan’s greatest peaks, four of them well over 8000 m, and dominated by what the Tibetans call Mount Chomolungma, also known after the former head of the British Indian Survey, Sir George Everest. The road down from the pass to Everest basecamp is a very poor quality dirt track, mainly following the river valleys, sometimes precariously built along the mountain walls, and, for the last hour or so, predominantly scaling some of the most impressive alluvial fans I have ever seen – mountain debris resulting from millions of years of flash floods. Not the most comfortable road surface! And even along this remote road one finds small villages, and ever hard working people, who must live one of the harshest lives imaginable, at above 4500 m.

and another close-up

It takes some four hours to reach the camp, and were we lucky that we had left early! All the way we had magnificent views of the snowy peaks on the sides, and of the mighty Chomolungma, almost cloud free. The camp itself is a collection of colorful tents and some basic facilities like latrines, which, judging from the excrements outside, are not always used. The viewpoint is from a shallow hill, from where just watching the mountain is the thing to do. Initially against a bright blue sky, probably the most magnificent sight I have ever seen, but we then saw the peaks disappearing in the clouds at a frightening speed. Which was the time to turn back.

next: to Nepal

(6) Shigatse

Blog entries

courtyard in the Tashilunpo monastery

The second-largest Tibetan town is pretty Chinese, in fact, and the only reason to come here is the impressive Tashilunpo Monastery.

Shigatse is the second largest town of Tibet. The two-hours’ drive from Gyantse passes through a completely different landscape, along the valley of a small river, the Nyang Qu. No big mountains, hardly a bend in the road, but no less entertaining a drive. Left and right the people were working the fields, as always colourfully dressed despite their working environment, with the animals again decorated with plumes or flags on their heads, and ribbons around their necks. The area is obviously richer than what we have seen so far, houses and farms are larger, often two stories high, and with large windows.

working the land, outside Shigatse

On the way to Shigatse is the lovely small Zhalu Monastery, in a tiny village off the main road. Even here, so remote, the Red Guards and the Cultural Revolution had reached to ensure damage was done. Unbelievable, what hatred against Buddhist religion must have motivated these people; it must have taken more effort to get to this little village that to smash up the place.

with colourfully decorated yaks, in good spirits

pilgrims at the Tashilunpo Monastery

part of the Tashilunpo Monastery

the Tashilunpo Monastery

monks high up in the monastery

the small streets around the monastery

more streets, and houses around the monastery

not all of the monastery is in tip-top condition

Shigatse is a modern Chinese town, with, according to our guide, not 80,000, no, 82,000 inhabitants. Precision is a virtue. The main reason for getting to Shigatse, apart from a convenient place to overnight, is the Tashilunpo Monastery, the largest monastery in Tibet and the seat of the Panchen Lama. The Panchen Lama is the traditional teacher of the Dalai Lama and the only other official who is succeeded through reincarnation. The current Panchen Lama, some eleven years old, is subject to a major controversy. He is the candidate forcefully pushed by the Chinese, who decided at the time that some religious freedom wouldn’t be a bad thing in Tibet. This boy occupies the office at the expense of the generally recognized reincarnation, another young boy, who was arrested and deported by the Chinese the day after the Dalai Lama had openly expressed his support for him. Boy and family have since disappeared, whereabouts unknown. So much for religious freedom, then. The monastery itself is a fabulous building, a huge complex with many little alley ways and courtyards, the one even more picturesque than the other, all in front of the main temple buildings. The complex also houses the stupa with the remains of the 10^th Panchen Lama, who died in 1989. The stupa was build five years later, allegedly at a cost of almost 8 million dollars, a sum of money that quite possibly could have been used slightly more effectively in a country as poor as Tibet. But here nobody questions religion, it is a way of life and everything else depends on it.

the ruins of the Shigaste fort

Shigatse suburb from above

Shigatse has not much more to offer than the temple. There is a castle, according to our guide book now completely in ruins. Upon checking out, our guide book proved correct. However, from the ruins one has a fantastic view over the town. And the few remnants of the castle, mainly the huge walls which mend into the mountain side, are impressive enough in itself to warrant the climb up the hill. The much touted market was actually a lot less impressive, in reality not more than an average Chinese market, selling everything and nothing. The only section that caught our interest briefly was the artifacts section, all ‘very old, real Tibetan’, but hugely overpriced. I had the strong impression that most of the stuff for sale actually comes from Nepal. Selling is done by very aggressive salesmen and women, who would not take ‘no’ for an answer, grab you by the arm instead, and will not let go – however, screaming ‘help, help’ did indeed help, and we managed to move on.

The Shigatse Hotel is a truly communist bastion, built in 1985 to a grandiose design, far too big for the limited amount of tourists they receive – forget about business travelers to Shigatse. Yet, the staff had not been reduced to more reasonable numbers, and loads of waiters and porters, and what have you, were hanging around. That is no reason to smile, of course, or to be helpful in any way. How different from the friendly Ketchu Hotel in Lhasa; but that was a privately run enterprise. As there was little else to do, we played some table tennis, which is not a good idea at 3900 m altitude. Unfortunately, the more relaxing pool table had lost its billiard balls lost long ago.

Lunch in the hotel was rather Spartan. We were the only two guests in the restaurant’s huge dining hall. There was no menu, and what ultimately arrived on the table was not particularly appetizing. The pork turned out to be sliced bacon left-overs from breakfast. However, lunch was still a feast compared to our evening meal, which was the most revolting I have had in a long time. The little restaurant that we selected was actually a cover for a brothel, they did not really have a cook. In the less than half an hour that we spent inside we saw at least 20 conspicuously dressed girls disappear upstairs. And no other dinner guests.

next: to Mount Everest basecamp

the hotel dining room, and two haphazard tourists

(5) West to Gyantse

Blog entries

a man and his yak

The scenic southern route past mountain passes and a sacred lake leads to Gyantse, another historic town with a fort, a monastery and a pagoda.

The drive from Lhasa to Gyantse, along the old southern route (rather than the modern ‘highway’ via Shigatse) is spectacular, crossing two passes, one of 4790 m and the other 5045 m high, and the sacred lake Yamdrok Tso in between. If this wide expanse of turquoise water, with no rivers feeding it, ever dries up, Tibet will no longer be able to sustain life, or so it is believed. Whether this was in the mind of the Chinese engineers who built the hydropower station in the lake, is doubtful, but fact is that this is the biggest power station in Tibet – although invisible for the casual passer-by.

small village on the road to Gyantse

The road is mostly unsurfaced, but drivable, albeit dusty. An enormous mountain, according to our guide well over 7000 m high, snow covered and all, towers out above the rest. In one place one of its glaciers almost reaches the road. Small villages line the route, looking very poor indeed; I wonder what those people are living from. This area is really desolate, there are no trees, there is no vegetation. Yet, sheep seem to find something to eat, still. Subsistence farming takes on a whole new meaning here.

(4) More of Lhasa

Blog entries

a door in the Norbulingka summer palace

The highlights of Lhasa are, of course, the Jokhang Temple and the Potala Palace. Just for these two, you should already be aiming for the Tibetal capital.

In terms of temples the top of the league is, without doubt, the 1300 year old Jokhang Temple, in the heart of the Barkhor area, the Tibetan centre of Lhasa. It is one of the few temples that still looks to be in its original state. It apparently survived the Cultural Revolution, as it was used as an army base. The main temple building, a largely wooden structure, is surrounded by a circuit of copper prayer wheels, that are being turned clockwise by the passing pilgrims, also rotating clockwise. The temple’s courtyard is full of people, some having a picnic, others praying in isolation, either leaning against a pillar or turning their hand-held prayer wheels relentlessly. The occasional pilgrim can be seen prostrating, stretching belly down on the floor. The best view of the courtyard is from the roof, where one can quietly observe the spectacle below, and also the busy Barkhor Square and the distant Potala Palace.

Johkang temple at the Barkhor Square

candles inside the Johkang temple

the upper part of the Johkang temple

once more, the inner prayer wheel circuit

the inner prayer wheel circuit, followed clockwise

pilgrims inside the temple

people gathering inside the Johkang temple

monk circling the outer circuit around the Johkang temple

market women on the Barkhor Square

copperware stall outside the Johkang temple

Outside the temple a second pilgrimage circle is in operation, a swarm of people walking around the temple complex, again clockwise. Here commerce is included in the process, the streets around the temple lined with stalls selling everything one can imaging. The Tibetan artifacts – invariably called antiques by the local dealers – are the most attractive, but after having touched a few samples one gets the same feeling as one gets inside temples when touching the rails along the stairs: that of yak butter sticking to your hands. Obviously, we could not withstand the temptation, and ended up with scores of useless rubbish, which we subsequently wrapped in shirts to protect them from breaking during our further travels. The result is a series of yak butter smelling shirts, and they will probably do so for the rest of their lives.

the Potala Palace seen from the roof of the Johkang temple

Lhasa supports two palaces. A visit to Norbulingka, the Dalai Lama’s summer palace, a weird and seemingly unconnected group of buildings located in a huge, but poorly kept and overgrown park, is not very interesting. Yet, the park is obviously popular, as evidenced by the rubbish everywhere, plastic bags, paper, food rests. The buildings are relatively new, yet they have a very old fashioned look. However, the interior is incomplete, and compares poorly with an English country house. And, as always, everything is dirty and greasy. Obviously, the Dalai Lama hasn’t been here for a while.

balloons in front of the Potala Palace

stairs in front of the Potala Palace – not the main entrance!

only one side of the palace

wooden panels and doors inside the Potala Palace

The Potala Palace, of course, falls in a different league, and is definitely one of the architectural highlights, if not the highlight of Lhasa. An enormous building, with over a 1000 rooms, its thirteen stories tower high above the city, visible from almost everywhere. The main building, called the White Palace, was built by the 5th Dalai Lama, often referred to as “the Great Fifth” on account of a long and successful reign uniting a divided Tibet again. He took up residence here in 1649. The Red Palace, the building rising from the centre, was added in 1693 and concentrates the religious functions: the prayer halls and the many chapels. The problem of fast lane pilgrims and slow lane tourists has been solved here by setting off both streams in opposite directions. That helps (sic)! Unfortunately, the palace is very popular with both tourists and pilgrims, and the chaos so created is absolutely complete, not helped by the fact that some of the rooms need to be entered and exited through the same door. Yet, the place should not be missed; it has so many unique features, from architecture to interior decoration, murals and the famous stupas, individual tombs for almost all the Dalai Lama’s.

next: West to Gyantse

four Tibetan women contemplating

(3) Lhasa

Blog entries

prayer wheel and prayer beads is all you need

The Tibetan capital, where Chinese and Tibetan culture exist in parallel, is surrounded by several great monasteries, like Drepung and Sera

Lhasa is not a romantic, mysterious city of unsurpassed beauty. Barkhor Square, supposedly the picturesque center of the old Tibetan quarters, in reality is a dump, with the smell of sewerage everywhere, persistent beggars grabbing you, and anybody else they can get hold of. Rubbish in the gutters, human excrements around every corner. Traffic is a complete chaos – in terms of driving Tibet is definitely completely assimilated into China. Minibuses, taxis, four-wheel drive vehicles, especially Toyota Landcruisers in a broad age range, and pedicabs fight for their place in the streets, generally determined by size and, in the case of the Toyota Landcruisers, age. Bicycles and pedestrians are a given, and add significantly to the chaos by not applying common sense in their movements, thereby voluntarily jeopardizing their lives continuously. One should not be surprised to be overtaken on both sides at the same time. The Tibetans probably drive on the right hand side of the road, but this is not obvious at all. Taxis, if empty, use their horns to attract customers, when occupied they use their horns to drive off all the other traffic, and if they have no other reason at all, they horn to greet a friend. Bus drivers do the same.

the market at Barkhor Square

To indicate that a restaurant has a television, one of the loudspeaker boxes is placed outside, and the volume is turned up. Hordes of people then gather around the door, without actually entering, to watch the television. Video games have also reached Lhasa, especially in dark shops along the narrow alleys of the Barkhor. As far as the sounds are concerned, they can be followed from outside, too. But beyond the Tibetan quarters the city is Chinese, with all the Chinese characteristics: the inevitable markets, the restaurants, and the first shopping malls appearing.

door to one of the courtyards at the Drepung monastery

the Drepung monastery is in fact a whole village

pilgrim at the Drepung monastery

not everything is shining at Drepung

But Lhasa has its jewels, which does make it a very special place indeed. And not only the Potala Palace and the Jokhang Temple, the most famous sites; there are many lesser known places well worth a visit. Drepung Monastery is a huge complex perched against the mountains just outside town. Once again, visitors are predominantly Tibetan pilgrims, the foreigners are very much in the minority. This creates a problem, as the pilgrims generally go fast, clockwise around the temple turning prayer wheels in the process, as if they have a train to catch, whilst the tourists like to spend some time looking around, which essentially blocks the flow. The pilgrims are only interested in the large Buddha sculptures, most of them new, slick and in European eyes rather tacky. Most statues are bronze or brass, dressed up colourfully, faces painted gold and hair painted blue. Further decorations include plastic flowers, and the accompaniment of the invariable yak butter sculptures does not help. Have you seen one, you have seen them all.

the prayer wheel circuit at Sera

the main building inside the Sera monastery

monks at the side of the Sera monastery

The pilgrims have no eye for architecture, for the frescos on the walls, for the intricately painted or embroidered thankas, silk or linen frames of Buddhist pictures, or for the lesser sculptures, stacked away in corners or cupboards. Yet, many of the thousands of figurines are beautifully made, and they are all different, no mass production here. Temples usually consist of a main assembly hall, with pillars to support the roof, rows of low benches for the pilgrims, and a number of smaller chapels on the sides. The inside of the temples is often crudely protected against the many visitors, in the best case the painted pillars and walls have been fenced off with chickenwire to just above eye level, to ensure that the frescos cannot be touched, in other cases plastic, or just cloth has been used, so that you cannot see a thing at all. Walking around a temple is in any case a hazardous undertaking, as the pilgrims go around with burning yak butter candles, spilling the wax generously on the floor. And they have done so for years. Especially some of the steeper stairs are pretty hairy, not in the least because the hand rails are just as slippery. Yet, wandering around is the thing to do, here, in between the many colorful people, mingling with the purple robed monks. Occasionally one spots a sizable rat, slipping away into a dark corner.

a monk helps an old man, Sera monastery

side entrance, one of the many at Sera

one of the small alleys at the Sera monastery

a woman at the Sera monastery

another pilgrim with prayer wheel

Another one of the ‘Great Monasteries’ is Sera, also in a beautiful setting, against the mountains outside Lhasa. The temples here are smaller, and our guide rushed us through, perhaps also because it was a Sunday. This is when the monks take a day off from the vociferous debating that the monastery is so famous for. Yet, the real attraction is the complex itself. Wandering around, through courtyards and narrow alley ways, brings surprise after surprise, ranging from beautifully carved wooden balconies to lonely plants waiting in a distant window. The complex once housed 8000 monks, but now no more than 500 are in residence, and many of the living quarters have fallen to pieces.

next: more of Lhasa

group of monks at the Drepung monastery

(2) The Yarlung Valley

Blog entries

the Trandruk monastery in the Yarlung Valley

The birthplace of Tibetan culture does not only contain several interesting monasteries, but also a lot of Chinese army presence.

Tsedang is some two hours drive west from Lhasa airport. But it took us quite a bit longer, as we were immediately confronted with the peaceful presence of the Chinese in Tibet. The roads were blocked by hundreds of army trucks, yet, the soldiers were making themselves useful, working in the fields, rather than repressing the people. Or that is what it looked like, from the road.

Except for the army trucks, the drive through the Yarlung valley, along the Tsangpo River, is beautiful. White-washed square houses in little villages are equipped with prayer flags on all four corners, representing the five elements. Very simple, very peaceful, very picturesque. The village squares are often filled with newly made bricks, that are drying in the sun. Walls are covered with dung cakes, that are doing the same. They will provide the bulk of the fuel, as vegetation is sparse on the high Tibetan plateau. People are working the fields with spans of oxen, horses and the yaks typical for Tibet, decorated with colorful plumes, busily pulling heavy ploughs, and followed by the women sowing. People are very hospitable, but after having been invited inside several of their houses, the message is clear: these people are dirt-poor. Tibet in the 20^th century. No, Tibet at the eve of the 21^st!

village in the Yarlung Valley

dung cakes drying on top of the houses

Our car was an old four-wheel drive Toyota Landcruiser, no airco, no frills. No seatbelts, either. However, we came to realize that having this low-key rental car was actually much better than the luxurious version Landcruisers, which all have darkly tinted windows, messing up the Technicolor views of the Tibetan landscape. Our driver did not speak a word of English, but was reasonably skilled. Our guide spoke a little more English, but not enough to engage in any meaningful conversation; her contributions remained limited to when the temples were build, who had build them and at what time we would be leaving the next day. But she was very sweet, and did everything possible to make our trip as comfortable as possible.

entrance of the Yumbulakhang monastery

the fortress monastery of Yumbulakhang

children and a donkey in a Yarlung Valley village

view of the village, from Yumbulakhang monastery

The Yarlung valley is the origin of the Tibetan culture, where, according to our guide, the first kings allegedly descended from the sky along a suspended rope quite some time ago, when exactly remains unclear. Where the rope was suspended from remains unclear, too. A number of, rather unimpressive, shallow hills are the tombs in which these first kings were buried, but what is more amazing is that the tombs, apparently, are still in tact, and have not been robbed and desecrated over time. I say “apparently”, because they are not open to the public, and it was actually unclear whether they had been opened at all. One of the disadvantages of a guide with limited command of English.

The valley also supports the earliest Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, which were founded in the seventh century, when the then ruling king, the formidable Songtsen Gampo, invited scholars from India. We visited two of them, starting with the fortress monastery of Yumbulakhang, perched high upon a cliff reachable by a steep walk only – not an easy task after one has just arrived at 3500 m altitude. Halfway the stairs we were spotted by a group of small children, who immediately started running down from the temple. When they started singing Freres Jacques, I suddenly understood why our guide had asked us whether we spoke French. They took us by the hand to help us up the steep climb, never mind that they were only one tenth of our weight, and obviously expected a reward for their support. No sweets, thank you, just money.

inner courtyard of the Trandruk monastery

yak butter candles in the Trandruk monastery

The second monastery, Trandruk, is in a village just outside Tsedang, located between normal Tibetan houses. It is much larger, and quite attractive, despite having been rebuilt almost entirely in recent years. Like the Yumbulakhang Monastery, it was severely damaged in the Cultural Revolution, when it was completely smashed up by Mao’s Red Guards. One of the more interesting places in the Monastery is the kitchen, the source of the many yak butter sculptures that are decorating every corner of every building. What nobody tells you about yak butter sculptures, is that they smell, and they smell badly. The kitchen is full of old butter makers, requiring hard work, but even in Tibet modernity advances. The yak butter production process has recently been speeded up by the acquisition of an electric blender, which proudly takes its place in the middle of the kitchen table.

the Samye monastery

the ferry that brings us to the Samye monastery

The oldest monastery in Tibet, also in Yarlung Valley, is the monastery of Samye, which is reached by a one hour boat trip, in a flat, open boat that slowly navigates its way between the sandbanks of the Tsangpo River, followed by a half hour ride in the back of a truck – as long as the truck doesn’t break down on the bumpy sand track. However, the inconvenience of travel is rewarded once one reaches the monastery, inside a walled village. The monastery, with its dominant golden roofed temple, is a popular pilgrimage place; most visitor are Tibetan, dressed in their best cloths, colorful layer over colorful layer, with hair, both their own and fake fill ups, done in braids, and their body and face covered in jewelry.

young monks on the roof of the Samye monastery

prayer wheels in the Samye monastery

Upon approaching Lhasa the army presence becomes even more stifling than in the countryside. Every other compound seems to be part of military barracks. Lhasa has all the hallmarks of an occupied city, despite the official enthusiasm of the Tibetans for the Chinese liberators. The only ones really demonstrating enthusiasm are the prostitutes, an obviously new aspect of Tibetan life, entirely geared toward servicing the army. In itself amazing, as most soldiers cannot be older that 17 or 18 years old, by the looks of it.

next: to Lhasa

two people debating, in front of the Samye monastery

(1) Preparations

Blog entries

Tibetan woman

Going to Tibet isn’t as easy as going anywhere else, yet, all arrangements worked – surprisingly – perfectly well

Although Tibet is probably one of the most spectacular areas to visit in China, the authorities don’t make it easy. Never mind the ‘Mountain Kingdom’, the ‘Roof of the World’, or whatever name it has been assigned in order to hype up the appeal of this Autonomous Region within China, tourism is not actually promoted. China’s presence in Tibet is disputed, to say the least, by Tibetans and foreigners alike. Better not to let too many foreigners in, lest they see with their own eyes, hear with their own ears, how unpopular the Chinese are in Tibet.

a mountain kingdom it is, including Mount Everest

The first problem for foreigners living in China – as we did at the time, in 1999 – is logistics. We are used to travel to a place, any place really, and arrange everything locally, on the spot, but for a trip to Tibet that is slightly more complicated. Firstly, it is impossible to obtain an airline ticket to Lhasa in Beijing, the only place these are issued is in Chengdu, in Sichuan province. Secondly, one needs a permit to travel to Tibet, or, as the official line goes, one needs to buy a tour. Never mind that one never sees the actual tour, and authorities would be highly embarrassed if asked for in Lhasa. This tour, or permit, is also only obtainable in Chengdu. And thirdly, foreigners are not allowed to use public transport in Tibet, whatever public transport there is, and there is very little. The Chinese authorities prefer to keep a close tab on foreigners traveling in Tibet, notwithstanding the fact that according to the official party line “the people of Tibet all agree that they have enormously benefited from the assistance offered by the Chinese since the Red Army liberated the Tibetans from feudalism in the 1950’s”. If foreigners are forced to use rented cars, they can be traced more easily than if they travel independently. For the same reason, it is often difficult to obtain a permit if one travels alone. It is easier to control groups. An extra spin-off is the additional income, generated by the permits and by the extravagant costs of renting a car – and obviously, cars only come with driver and guide, no less.

Tibetan mountain village: the Middle Ages

Tibetan transport: the Middle Ages

Because of all these limitations, and because of the limited time we had available for the trip, we had arranged all in Beijing, through a reputable travel agency, which employed an American friend of ours. Somehow, it is easier to hand over a significant sum of money to an American than to a Chinese, if the only thing one gets back is a one-way ticket to Chengdu, the rest is ‘to follow’. However, much to our surprise, all the rendezvous’ worked out amazingly well.

The first potential hick-up was in Chengdu, a 2½ hours flight from Beijing, where we were to meet with a contact person who would give us our permits and onwards tickets. Amazingly, he was there, with all the necessary papers: a significant relief. Next day we flew to Lhasa, another two hours flight, across some spectacular mountain ranges. The second potential hick-up, meeting up with our guide at Lhasa airport, was also successfully averted, and shortly after arrival we were driving down to Tsedang, our first stop-over in Tibet.

next: the Yarlung Valley

prayer flags decorating village houses

My House in Damascus

Reviews

I got to know the books of Diana Darke in the early 1990s, when I lived in Turkey. Ms. Darke has written two entertaining, and excellent travel guides about this country, characterized by her thorough knowledge not only of the culture, but also of obscure places where to find the best examples of, say, Armenian frescos. So when I found “My House in Damascus” (2014, 2016), I bought it without thinking twice. And once again, it didn’t disappoint.

The book is a mixture of narrative, about how Ms. Darke went about finding, buying and restoring an old court yard house in the old town of Damascus, of exposé on Syrian history, of description of Syrian society, and of the effects of the revolution of 2011 and the subsequent crack down of the regime. At the same time it is an emotional plea for all of us, in the West, to recognize the real issues in Syria, to step away from the media-dominated pictures of death and destruction, and to see how a developed, well-educated society where different groups have lived together for years, traditionally tolerant, where Christians and Muslims used to visit each other’s mosques and churches, is being eroded from inside. Initially by an increasingly desperate regime clinging on to power, but subsequently by opportunists stepping into the power vacuum wherever it manifests itself, like the emergence of IS, but also the multitude of rebel groups, many of them equally active as criminal gangs, operating in an increasingly lawless society, dominated by fear. And how we are all looking away, aloof.

The power of Ms. Darke’s book is that of her own experience, her many interactions with real people in Syria, with the silent majority who have nothing to do with the fighting, just want to get back to their old life. The reality of her many friends, who we get to know throughout the book, who we sympathize with, before we hear how they and their families are being affected by the crisis. But also the reality of betrayal, by another of her supposed friends, and how easily members of that silent majority fall themselves for opportunism.

Written by somebody who obviously knows about Syria, this is a beautiful story, of a house, of a number of individuals, of a people. Occasionally, the narrative is a little chaotic, no doubt because Ms Darke started the book in 2010, before the revolution, and my copy is from 2016, with a chapter added after the initial 2014 publication. The book offers no solution, despite the series of wholly unrealistic suggestions of Ms. Darke at the end, suggestions she recognizes herself as dreaming; the one line from the book that will always stay with me and that sums up the problems of the Middle East, is “a compromise is a concession, a concession is defeat, and defeat is death”.

05. Leh

Articles

a door of one of the monastery buildings

We had to cut short our stay in Leh, but not after having visited a few gompas; a hairy medical experience leaves one thinking what could have happened

Leh itself is not especially interesting, a center dominated by foreign tourists in all sorts of outfits, not necessarily appropriate for India, and an old town, with narrow streets and stairs towards the fort higher up the mountain, which made us again think of Tibet – because of the filth, and the stench of human excreta. The area around Leh supports some interesting monasteries, or Gompas. We visited those in Hemis, Thiksey and Shey, the latter with a hill fort thrown in for good measure. It is still very dry here, but along the Indus valley fields are green thanks to irrigation along the river banks; away from the river, back to the desert, no vegetation at all. Somewhere along the road is a field full of stupas, hundreds of them.

street view of Leh

roof top view, in Leh

another of Leh’s inhabitants

one of Leh’s inhabitants

no lack of Tibetan influences here

The idea was to continue further north, into the Nubra valley, but in the event we never made it. One of our friends and travel companions had already not felt so well for the past two days, and when we visited the local hospital, he was diagnosed with Acute Mountain Sickness – well, initially they said it was just an infection and dehydration, but when he collapsed hours later in the hotel, they finally took his condition serious. And serious it was, requiring immediate oxygen, a stint in the pressure chamber of the military hospital, and two days observation.

a large building, probably part of a monastery

Luckily, it all ended well, but it could have turned very nasty, not in the least because of the stunning incompetence of the public hospital staff. Obviously, we had to abort the trip, and we returned to Delhi on the first possible flight. We did abuse the system a little, by demanding a wheelchair – at Leh airport this is a luggage trolley with a chair mounted on top – and bypassing all queues.

prayer flags above a balcony

Buddhist monk

one of the smaller monasteries

same monastery, hill-top

a field of stupas in the Indus Valley

Buddhist monastery near Leh

In retrospect, we can laugh about the incident: the fact that there is absolutely no privacy in Indian hospitals, and that everybody, the chap from the hotel, and our travel agent, and a whole string of people totally unknown to us, and obviously not belonging to the hospital staff at all, kept on hanging around the bed, or the time when I helped my friend to the toilet, to come back three minutes later only to find that someone had just nicked the bottle of oxygen that he had been using, just like that (despite the chap from the hotel, the travel agent, and all these other people still standing around the bed), or the transfer from the municipal hospital to the military hospital, when the doctors finally realised it was a serious matter and mobilised an ambulance, which turned out to be a Maruti van, in which the stretcher only fitted for 80%, resulting in our friend’s head sticking out of the ambulance at the back, and requiring both,his wife and myself to ride with the ambulance to hold stretcher and patient – when we looked up we saw our travel agent, on his motorbike, and the chap from the hotel, faithfully following us, not to miss anything.

prayer wheels in one of the monasteries

painted images in one of the monasteries

Nederlands	French	German
Italian	Spanish	Russian
Chinese	Portugese	Indonesian

first-hand travel experiences and impressions of travel destinations

(8) to Nepal

The final stretch of the Friendship Highway, with more spectacular mountain scape, before dropping 1000’s of meters to the Nepal border, and to Katmandu.

(7) To Mount Everest

The Friendship Highway, past Latse and Shekar, ultimately brings us to the turn off for Mount Chomolungma, Mount Everest to most: a fabulous sight.

(6) Shigatse

The second-largest Tibetan town is pretty Chinese, in fact, and the only reason to come here is the impressive Tashilunpo Monastery.

(5) West to Gyantse

The scenic southern route past mountain passes and a sacred lake leads to Gyantse, another historic town with a fort, a monastery and a pagoda.

(4) More of Lhasa

The highlights of Lhasa are, of course, the Jokhang Temple and the Potala Palace. Just for these two, you should already be aiming for the Tibetal capital.

(3) Lhasa

The Tibetan capital, where Chinese and Tibetan culture exist in parallel, is surrounded by several great monasteries, like Drepung and Sera

(2) The Yarlung Valley

(1) Preparations

My House in Damascus

05. Leh

We had to cut short our stay in Leh, but not after having visited a few gompas; a hairy medical experience leaves one thinking what could have happened

Recent Posts

Translate

The Categories

The final stretch of the Friendship Highway, with more spectacular mountain scape, before dropping 1000’s of meters to the Nepal border, and to Katmandu.

Share this:

The Friendship Highway, past Latse and Shekar, ultimately brings us to the turn off for Mount Chomolungma, Mount Everest to most: a fabulous sight.

Share this:

The second-largest Tibetan town is pretty Chinese, in fact, and the only reason to come here is the impressive Tashilunpo Monastery.

Share this:

The scenic southern route past mountain passes and a sacred lake leads to Gyantse, another historic town with a fort, a monastery and a pagoda.

Share this:

The highlights of Lhasa are, of course, the Jokhang Temple and the Potala Palace. Just for these two, you should already be aiming for the Tibetal capital.

Share this:

The Tibetan capital, where Chinese and Tibetan culture exist in parallel, is surrounded by several great monasteries, like Drepung and Sera

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

We had to cut short our stay in Leh, but not after having visited a few gompas; a hairy medical experience leaves one thinking what could have happened

Share this:

Recent Posts

Translate

The Categories