We should have been off to a good start because our tour driver was going to meet us out side the restaurant we intended to have breakfast at once we had all eaten. Unfortunately the restaurant was not as eager to have an early start as we were and instead we spent the first half hour of the morning sitting on the steps. All was well in the end though and off we set. We reached what would remain our highest altitude until Everest within hours when we drove up to a car park on a hillside at 5200 meters. This was so we could look down at a lake which was all very pretty and all but I'm not quite sure was worth the 3 hour climb, to then come straight back down again. This was also the last time we would see the dreaded tour bus fleet as from this point on we were in 4X4 territory. For those tourists who didn't find the lake quite enough to photograph, there were plenty of nomads with Yaks and Mastiff dogs bedecked in fancy regalia.
The roads on the first few days were reasonable and we had an easy time of the trip to start. Nicolas had a GPS unit, which kept us constantly updated to our altitude, direction and speed (our driver was unexpectedly slow and considered) and even showed us our position on a wee map too. This easy driving seemed to affect our driver who could hardly keep his eyes open. We thought maybe he had had a late night, it being his last in Lhasa for a week but it would make little difference the following days. This was the only day though that he had to stop the car, buy a bottle of water and pour it on his head.
We spent our first night in a town called Gyantse. The main sights to see here were the hordes of wild dogs running the street and the army troop who marched passed our hotel window in the morning. The promoted sights of the town included a fort which the British ransacked in 1903, which we visited, and a big monastery surrounded by a wall which we looked across at from the fort. Then it was back on the road for day two's journey. This was a nice short one and it only took us an hour and a half to reach the town of Shigatse.
Shigatse is home to the Tashilunpo Monastary, at one time residence of the Panchen Lama (kind of second to the Dalai Lama) and we popped in to say hello. We also popped out accidentally when we followed someone through a wee gate in the wall and found ourselves back on the outside and locked out. Surrounding all the temples and monasteries in Tibet are prayer wheels. These are big brass drums on vertical poles which pilgrims spin as they walk passed. Usually, there are dozens, hundreds or maybe even more if the building's circumference is big enough to host them all. We started the pilgrim path, clockwise around the monastery to try and find another way back in but an hour and a half later we were back round to the front door with two pairs of used tickets and friendly looking faces hoping we'd get back in. We did and we got a good look around the monastery.
Our next town was Shigar where we asked our driver to drive us around to find better accommodation. We spent about an hour trying to find a nicer place or negotiate better room rates before accepting that our now unhappy driver maybe knew where to take us to after all. We returned to the first hotel and took the last room they had, the four of us sharing a room with two single beds, a cold shower and horror of horrors, an Eastern style squat toilet with a pretty bad smell. Valerie negotiated a killer price though which went some way to make up for it. An average meal in the two-bit-town restaurant and then we all settled down to play cards by candlelight in the power cut.
The accommodation only got worse the following day too. We had reached Everest base camp and not wanting to find ourselves stuck for accommodation again booked in at what we thought was the best looking place, since all that came next up the road was the camp site. What we didn't know was that these tents were big massive things with a stove in them and big duvets and beds. All in all though, we didn't make such a bad choice because these tents doubled up as restaurants during the day and everyone just sat themselves between your bags, also there was no privacy in terms of rooms. So we had a room, again between the four of us, but joy of joy a bed each. It was inevitable that the toilet we had previously found so disagreeable would now seem like quite the luxury as the toilet facilities here were two holes in the ground in an outhouse. The smell was bad enough and so was the risk of falling through the rotten floor but what was worst of all was the constant updraft that brought with it more than just the gentle fragrance of what was slowly decomposing below. Despite all this it still wasn't so bad really.
We got there around lunch time so after a spot of food were ready to go exploring Everest. We didn't actually get right up to it sadly, but only most of the way. Oddly, there's another passport control at this point and it's not for people trekking out of the country, just another instance of the government keeping tabs on our movement. We got as close to Everest as we could before a man turned us back, but by climbing up one of the hills to the side, we got a good view over to see a glacier. It was at this time we reached our highest altitude of the trip, 5300 meters. The top of Everest was covered in clouds so we didn't actually see the peak close up but on our drive down to base camp, when we could see the mountain and all its neighbours not far off on the horizon, the clouds cleared for us to get a good view and a couple of pictures - more than the people we were speaking to who spent three days at base camp and got nothing. The landscape all around us as we walked was barren permafrost, rocky and sharp and scarred and with a deep red tinge to everything, it seemed very Martian.
The following day was our last in the Jeep and it was a long hard push to the border. We were making good progress until we got stopped at a town by the police. The road ahead was closed. This was unexpected news for the jeep drivers and our wait meant that all the Jeeps doing the journey that day bunched up into a convoy as we waited for the road to open. A couple of hours later and the gate was lifted and we were on our way. The road had been closed because the road is only just getting built. Our jeep, along with the thirty or so other cars slipped and clung to the boggy and treacherous track, driving through waterfalls and all sorts. Our driver had fully woken up now and was quite in his element, showing all the characteristics I had expected from the start, overtaking on blind bends and accelerating towards vehicles in front who were clearly in a stationary position. He was having a great time, I was having a less great time as we slipped and squeezed with landsliding boulders on one side and a kilometer high drop on the other.
Once the immediate peril of the situation had settled down, it became good fun and we eventually made it down to the border town of Zhangmu. The weather had been steadily deteriorating during the day until by the time we arrived at the town it was a monsoon. We would soon learn from the Nepalese that this was the last day of their monsoon season and we arrived in Nepal on the first day of the dry season. It is incredibly how sharp a cut off it has. However, we weren't in Nepal yet. Once again, the four of us had a room with two single beds, and for the privilege, got to pay prices that made Beijing seem like a bargain. The following morning, the rain had all stopped and we queued to leave the country. We reflected how lucky we had been to have Valerie and Nicolas as our Jeep buddies as we had a great time in and out of the car with them and in situations that could so easily have been a nightmare had we not all got along. The four of us were going to keep company for a bit longer yet too, at least until we got to Kathmandu.
No-one creates queues quite like the Chinese administration. Having had two months of them, we still had one more to endure yet and it was a belter. For about three hours we waited in a large bunch of people trying to get closer and closer to the immigration desk. In our travels we have crossed plenty of borders now and never have we found one quite so slow and difficult, without explanation. Eventually we were through though, then into a minivan to get shuttled the 9 Km's to the Nepalese border. On our way, we went through a bustling town full of people and traders and no end of traffic congestion but we have no idea what country the town belonged to. We then got through the Nepalese immigration with no hassle, and set out in a group of 10 to find a bus to Kathmandu. We succeeded with effort, and after refusing to get off the bus and refusing to pay any more money, calling a dozen different con men liars and saying 'we were happy to wait until the following morning if that's what it took, after all the seats are comfy' - the bus finally left for Kathmandu.
We had had two months in China, if you include Tibet, and had had a great time. We saw some fantastic sights, met some very nice people and came away with a very refreshing opinion of the Chinese people (at least as individuals). We were less impressed by the regime though and as we spent more time in Tibet so we soured all the more against it. The final hassle to leave the country was a fitting reminder of what we were escaping from and we were quite happy to be leaving now for pastures new. We also felt more optimistic for the future of Tibet than we did before seeing it. It wasn't that we could see any light at the end of the tunnel for them as such, it wasn't that we saw all their abducted family members being returned or apologies for the tens of thousands of Tibetans that have died under the administration (apparently the International Commission of Jurists has declared China's actions in Tibet as Genocide), but we did see a distinct character within the Tibetan people. No one spoke openly to us about their feelings regarding the Chinese, in truth we avoided the subject ourselves, and there were no protests in the streets or slogans painted on the walls. But what we saw were lots of Tibetan people, still living by their Tibetan values, in a way that was distinctly different from the Chinese. This was especially true in the country, where not a single Chinese immigrant was to be found. The only sign that we were still in China once we got out to the west was the checkpoints scattered between the prayer-flag strewn hills . The Tibetans may not have their freedom, but they still very much have their distinct and individual identity.
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