Journey to Lhasa

Leaving Dunhuang, I smiled as I realised I had the best berth on the sleeper bus; the bottom bunk at the front, which has more room to waggle your feet about as opposed to them being squashed into a tiny metal slot behind the person in front’s head. Except this bus was a night bus across the desert and I was also beside the door. Every time we stopped - brrrr.

Rolling into Golmud, described by some as the armpit of China, I was delighted to find there was a train to Lhasa just an hour later. Having secured my hard-sleeper ticket I looked forward to travelling on one of China’s most modern trains.

This train journey is an epic. Only a few years ago, engineers from across the world told the Chinese that building a track from Qinghai to Tibet was impossible. Almost half of the track would need to be laid across ice, with the highest point of the journey being over 5000 metres above sea level at the Tangula pass. Undeterred, the Chinese developed a way to build it. Don’t ask me the engineering details, but I do know something about liquid nitrogen to stop the ice melting and numerous bridges over permafrost and tunnels through mountains. It’s a highly controversial railway. It’s helped facilitate even greater Chinese migration to Tibet, which has high cultural costs for Tibetans. The damage to the fragile eco-system on the Tibetan plateau has yet to be established. It’s there to stay though, and may even be extended to Shigatse.

The train journey takes you across the northern plains of Tibet, the domain of Tibetan nomads for millenia. I saw herds of yak mingling with Chinese government buildings. Endless plains, meeting mountains far into the distance, snow-capped ranges providing a stunning backdrop. Blue, blue lakes dotting the plains and sparkling rivers attempting to run their course despite half of the surface water being frozen solid. The lowlight of the journey was the Chinese man in the bunk below me who coughed up his lungs and spat into the bin once every ten minutes. I contemplated gagging him with the onboard oxygen outlet above his bed, but you only get a mask in soft-sleeper.

Altitude sickness is a real concern on the journey, and I had to complete a health questionnaire before boarding the train. Diamox from home helped smooth the ascent, although my iPod gave out at the highest point on the journey (and is being nursed carefully back to health as I write…).

I have read so much about Tibet and the level of Chinese influence here that I knew not to have my hopes too high for Lhasa. I’m expecting the best Tibetan gems to be outside the city. Nonetheless, as the taxi pulled away from the train station and drove through the city, I felt my heart break. Wide asphalt roads, neon lights, newly planted trees along the sides of the wide boulevards, lamposts that could be spares from Tiananmen Square, karaoke bars, yet more neon, loads of brand-new government and military buildings. I grew more sad with each passing minute. This is light years away from the Tibet we all imagine.

Then, catching a glimpse of the incredible Potala Palace, a sliver of joy, then towards the Barkhor (Tibetan) area, with the Jokhang Temple - and my hotel. A brief wander around the Barkhor this evening has restored my broken heart, and I can’t wait to see this place in daylight.

So, that was my journey to the rooftop of the world. Tibet has been one of the destinations that has caused the greatest number of dreamy smiles while I was in the trip-planning stages at home. And now I’m here. In Tibet.