Hmmm, a pretty varied part of the world this one: fat bottomed sheep, buddhas (well, maybe some similarities there I guess), sand dunes, pilgrims and Mt Everest. It’s crazy to think we saw all of these within the space of 3-4 weeks!!
Author Archives: Lucy
Monastery Mayhem
[Before you get too excited, no actual mayhem involved whatsoever. But hey, why let that spoil a great title?]
So, as James may have mentioned between rants in our last post re forced changes to our Tibet plans, we set off from Lhasa with much fanfare, five of us plus enough goodies to feed / shelter a small army (is that we got turned back??) in a landcruiser. First stop was intended to be our hard core hike, hence all the gear. Given as that was ultimately not to be, our second stop was at the roadside to drop off our cook plus all the camping supplies and five days worth of food, all of which he then duly took straight back to Lhasa. Hey ho.
So as you can imagine, the shape of our Tibetan roadtrip changed somewhat. Whilst we’d envisaged a pretty rugged trip with lots of hiking and a few cultural stops along the way to give us some variety, the trip as it ended up was pretty heavy on the cultural stuff; although with some fantastic natural scenery along the way and some scary high passes to keep things interesting. The basic shape of the days was: get up (not too early – it’s COLD in Tibet this time of year!!), drive a bit, stop at a stunning monastery, look round for a while, head up to a pass and get your breath taken away (literally – all the passes are 5,000m plus so not too much breathing up here), drive a bit more, stop for the night, have a huge bowl of tasty curry as a reward for all that culture-spotting and head for bed. Not a bad life as it happens.
The actual route took us south from Lhasa, via Samye, Gyantse and Shigatse monasteries, past a number of breathtaking high altitude lakes, and down the Friendship Highway (with pauses for spectacular views of Everest – see separate post) to the border to Nepal, from whence we headed to Kathmandu. The monasteries were spectacular; I’ve already written about the complexities of Tibetan monasteries, so for this post just enjoy the pretty piccies (not so many of the interiors I’m afraid as it’s very rare that photos are allowed inside). The only weird thing was that most of these monasteries, which look pretty amazing to us, are now apparently pretty shabby compared to past glories – the Cultural Revolution hit these places pretty hard, either partially / wholly destroying the buildings or at the very least allowing all the really good bling to be nicked. Favourite part? Doing the kora (a pilgrimage route, typically lined with hundreds of prayer wheels, which takes you all the way round the monastery), in Shigatse. The city of Shigatse is a big Chinese affair, recently built from large boring slabs of concrete, but the monastery and surrounding kora are beautiful, peaceful, and very Tibetan feeling – which about sums up a lot of Tibet in fact. Plus by then we had acclimatised so we got to feel smug at our ability to cope with the altitude!
The scenery is also incredible – very high and very barren, definitely falling on the impressive rather than pretty side of beautiful particularly at this time of year as winter sets in. I really wouldn’t want to be a nomadic farmer out here – even the yaks looked cold and they are far FAR hairier than James or I even after 5 months travelling.
Jury’s still out for us on whether we’d recommend people to go to Tibet or not given all the associated issues. But hopefully the travel porn photos below provide the positive side of the argument – enjoy!!
Excuses, Excuses
Wow, it’s been a whole week since the world at large has benefited from our blog-transmitted pearls of wisdom.
Sorry, world at large.
We had a few days trekking (where James wussed out on carrying the laptop with us….using the pathetic excuse that there was no wi-fi), immediately followed by a great couple of days in Hong Kong with Kean and Nyree, two old friends of James (to whom huge thanks for such a fun stay) which has left us painfully blog free!
Anyway, back to civilisation now (we’re currently in Kyoto, Japan) so the blog pipe has been duly unblocked. Aren’t you lucky?
Pilgrims vs. Pragmatists
There’s not many countries that have an entire school of religion named after them. Tibet is one of them (Tibetan Buddhism. Keep up in the back!), and with good reason. The average man on the street Tibetan exhibits an incredible level of piety and devotion which, to a (I’m resigned to my fate on this one) pretty soul-less ex investment banker can seem almost overwhelming. All Tibetans will have in their house various religious artifacts including statues depicting the 3 manifestations of the Buddha (wisdom, compassion and energy) and a depiction of the 4 sacred animals (elephant, monkey, rabbit and bird: this one lost me a bit, but they all eat fruit from the same tree and the elephant carries them all to do so. This translates as the need to respect your elders and the responsibility of the elders to teach the young. Buddhism. It can be pretty esoteric). So far, so normal.
It’s also pretty standard for most Tibetans to, as part of their morning routine, conduct a kora or three of the local monastery. Exercise whilst praying doncha know. Quite some few of them will take this seemingly pretty standard idea a little further, spending 2-3 hours each morning prostrating themselves in front of said monastery. Try this. Stand tall, raise your hands, palms together, above your head; then bring them down to your waist (still palms together); bend your knees and stretch out your arms until you’re lying face down on the ground; get up again; repeat. Repeat for 2-3 hours.
For the really devout, a pilgrimage is in order (obviously with the appropriate prostrating along the way). If you’re really feeling into it, then the recognized best practice here is to prostrate yourself for the entre pilgrimage. So, if you live in Eastern Tibet, for example, and fancy a cheeky little pilgrimage to Lhasa, then you prostrate yourself (see above for instruction), get up, move forward to where your fingers touched the ground, then repeat. For 1,800 kilometres. It takes 3 to 5 years and it’s really not that uncommon – James and I probably saw 5 to 10 people on the road who were mid way through this.
Of course, if you really REALLY want to prove your devotion – both to Buddhism as a general idea and to the concept of Tibet as a free nation with free religious practices (yep we’re going there. Complex and subtle issues dealt with in a 500 word blog post. You know you love it) then one sets oneself on fire within the precincts of a well regarded religious centre. This has become a surprisingly popular trend – whilst for obvious reason the stats can be a little hard to track, the sense is that tens or possibly hundreds of Tibetans, in particular monks, have chosen this particular route towards self expression.
So, if you’re the governing Chinese, how the hell do you react to that?? I mean, there’s a whole load of power contained in that there religion and even as an idol-worshipping sort of sometimes Catholic, I can see how the sheer amount of wealth (1,300kg gold stupas) poured into the monasteries would be upsetting for a secular society.
Well, we’re speaking of the Chinese, so……pragmatically.
First off, reduce the number of those pesky trouble-making monks. Monasteries now have a licensed number of monks, typically around 10% of the monastery’s capacity… although the monasteries themselves are still allowed to function – in line, presumably, with China’s stance of total religious freedom.
Second, and most important, fire brigades. Each significant monastery has airport style security to get in – no fluids, matches, or cigarette lighters allowed (at least for local Tibetans. I didn’t put this one to the test, but I suspect a Westerner could take a flamethrower in and not get stopped). Then inside the monastery itself, there’s orange clad firemen inside all major chapels – got to make sure those wooden structures don’t burn down. Lastly, there’s the firemen outside – armed with people-catching hooks, a quad-bike, flame-retardant blankets and multiple buckets of water.
No, I’m not joking. This is one of the most sinister things I have seen in many years of pootling about the globe.
I don’t know what to make of it, and I don’t know what I could do that would be better.
All I really know is that there’s little or possibly nothing on this earth that would make me set myself on fire….and that I’m hopelessly, somewhat (guiltily) gladly, absolutely out of my depth.
Silk Road – The Stats
- Countries visited: five (all five of them with a “Stan” in their name, if you include the world-famous “Chinastan”). We also visited Turkistan, but that’s only a town and – technically – cheating. All of the above are generously referred to as “Trashcanistan” by my loving father. Hi Dad!
- Number of fat bottomed sheep slaughtered in the name of mutton kebabs: we have discussed this at length, and we think the correct term is “flocks”. This may also fall under some of the more interesting ancient indigenous counting systems that go “one, two, three, many”
- Number of dreams James has had featuring strangely erotic dancing fat-bottomed sheep: none. Or so he says. Lucy isn’t sure she believes this.
- Antibiotic pills popped to counteract aforementioned mutton: 26 (or 13 grams). Although we have issues with the US medical system and overprescription in general, it played a blinder this time
- Run-ins with the police: only one. On the Tashkent metro, and aforementioned Copper was disappointingly friendly. What was all this we had heard about a police state?
- Illicit currency deals: too many to count, although notably including one involving two sweet old ladies masquerading as government officials from the Tashkent Ministry of Culture and Antiquities. No, really
- Number of mosques / new shades of blue discovered. Both of these are completely numberless; the architecture was incredible, and incredibly old. Isn’t it strange how many facets of the infinite we are touching on here? We blame the beer
- Natural disaster zones visited: one – Darvaza gas crater (as we didn’t get to what is left of the Aral Sea). We have been travelling to some pretty extraordinary places, but this truly, truly takes the biscuit. Go see it while you can. It may be James’s new favourite place (see engagement below)
- Animals harmed during the course of this production: hmmm. Definitely one (the fox). Not sure if we should count all the sheep. Did we mention the mutton?
- Pots of extraordinary home-made jam consumed in antique jewel-like breakfast rooms: so many, so good, so glad we both underwent the diarrhea diet afterwards (otherwise known as the India diet, but James isn’t going there again in a hurry)
- Miles travelled: a truly epic 3,000+. From Ashgabat in Turkmenistan to Jiayuguan and the end of the Great Wall of China(stan)
- It’s not a statistic as such (OK, so we are cheating, it’s not a statistic at all) but to witness the changes in cultures, faces, foods and landscape as you make a long overland journey through a global cultural melting pot with such an extraordinary ancient and modern history has been incredibly affecting and a real privilege. The only thing that remains constant is the sheep. Did we mention the mutton?
- Number of long-standing dreams captured: one. Lucy has dreamed of coming to the Silk Road for nearly twenty years. Oh, and getting engaged here wasn’t half bad either
Guys, it has been utterly amazing. Again.
One for the Girls
(OK, and maybe Tim. But basically, the girls.)
So I bought some fabric in Uzbekistan – ikat fabric, which is made out of silk and hand woven on a loom which is a little narrower than I am. It’s really beautiful stuff and was cheap as chips – but now I have to work out what to do with it, so that when I get to somewhere with a tailor, they can magic it into something fabulous.
So, by the magic of camera and Powerpoint (all the famous designers use it sweetie), I’ve come up with the below 3 ideas. Need to be different to avoid my re-naming as Ikat girl, and also I don’t have that much of the black fabric so that one probably needs to be a shift.
Any better ideas, girls?
Answers on a postcard.
Ti-Be-t or not Ti-Be-t
That is the question.
James and I started planning our trip many moons ago now, with the rough outline of an itinerary (or at least places we thought sounded cool and would try and wrap in if at all possible) probably having been solidified around January. We’ve had plenty of time to get illogically, emotionally involved with our choice of countries, to the extent that a 3 month delay in our trip didn’t necessarily cause us to change any of our destinations, just the order in which they were visited. And also meaning that some of our planned locations are being visited at rather curious times of year: which brings us onto Tibet.
Our current plan has us trotting into Tibet near the end of October after a rather lengthy connection across China from the end of the Silk Road. Fine and dandy, other than the fact that Tibet is (i) in the Northern hemisphere and (ii) very high and (iii) our plan involves high altitude trekking. Yep, five days hiking in altitudes of well over 4,000 metres and temperatures of who knows what but I’ve got to guess well below freezing at least at night time.
We must have been insane.
Still, the trip is booked and fully paid for. And let’s face it, as long as we don’t actually die of AMS and / or hypothermia, it’ll be pretty darned cool. I think. Maybe.
Enter Mr. Cameron. Yes, him of current UK prime-ministerial fame. You see, Cameron met the Dalai Lama back in the summer, which infuriated the Chinese authorities to the extent that they have been refusing all Tibetan permits to UK nationals since said meeting occurred. For the past 2 months, we’ve been on tenterhooks waiting to see whether the Chinese reversed this decision post the Chinese national holiday at the start of October. Our travel agent told us that basically, we just had to hang on tight and hope for the best and with luck, we’d know where we stood by 15 October, or a whole 7 days before we were due to enter the country. In the meantime, perhaps we’d better consider some alternatives.
Now, I like to think of myself as a reasonably hardened traveler, so it’s not without a small modicum of shame that I confess that our alternative planning had got as far as looking longingly at the website of the Banyan Tree hotel in Li-jiang; plus some pretty advanced double-think on both of our parts to persuade ourselves that the $500 a night charge at said beautiful, luxurious hotel (with private bathroom!!) was totally worth it and in complete keeping with the whole ethos of our trip. I mean, we’d always said we’d be flashpacking, and lately the flash seems to have fizzled out into an endless sea of mutton kebabs and Chinese business hotels (which, in case you’re ever after such a place, are quite possibly the perfect suicide venue; particularly the wet room style bathrooms where you shower kind of on or over the loo. Perfectly rinse clean-able). And the Banyan Tree has a spa. And white wine. And cocktails.
So we were in somewhat mixed minds when we heard 10 days before launch date that the Chinese authorities were now letting English people into Tibet. However, they still weren’t permitting anyone to cross the border from Tibet to Nepal (an essential part of our trip), so we still weren’t sure whether we were going or not. Plus only groups of five or more are currently being allowed in, whilst the plan would be that it’s just the two of us. Our travel agent told us we’d need to hold on another week before getting any kind of decision but to be honest we’d kind of written the trip off by this point. Banyan Tree here we come.
Eventually, we got our go ahead 2 days before our scheduled departure, to the amazement of all we have spoken to. Our group of five fortunately managed to get a permit in the end, although tragically the other three members fell deeply ill and were unable to make the trip, leaving just James and I as the group’s two representatives in Tibet. I’m actually writing this aboard the train between Xining and Lhasa (which is a spectacular engineering feat – almost all at over 4,000 metres and partially built on permafrost – but not in and of itself spectacular. Still, acclimatization wise every little helps), taking a short break from reading some of the material on Tibet I’ve been blithely ignoring for the last 2 months, secure in the knowledge that we’d been rescued from our own craziness by the good graces of the Chinese authorities.
Tibet looks amazing. And cold. I can’t wait to see it all from the snugness of the 5 down jackets and one sheepskin cloak I intend to purchase in Lhasa.
And hey, there’s Banyan Trees all over the place, right?
The End of the (Silk) Road
We had a cunning plan to bridge our Silk Road epic into our trip to Tibet.
We’d go overland. Couldn’t be far, right?
We wanted to do the full Silk Road experience – not just in the Stans, but heading into China, and onto the official beginning of civilization (as these things were measured at the time) as denoted by the end of the Great Wall of China, in Jiayuguan. A mere 1,500 miles from Kashgar, with 2 notable sights to see along the way, the first being some ooh, 1,350 miles from Kashgar. All before then travelling a further 500 miles to Xining, whence to board our 1,100 mile train journey into Tibet. So 3,100 miles in total. Or to put it another way, a slightly greater distance than crossing the United States. All to be done in a little under 2 weeks so that we could connect to our Tibet trip.
Reader, we cheated. We shamelessly flew the 1,350 miles from Kashgar to Dunhuang (via the charming city of Urumqi – don’t miss it) instead of just manning up and taking a simple 32 hour train journey. And boy, were we glad we did.
You see, in case it’s not clear from the above this is a region not overly blessed with a great concentration of tourist sights. Or indeed tourists. Whilst Uzbekistan proffers 3 or 4 world class, stunning architectural sites for each 3-4 hour journey you take, Western China has 3 or 4 kind of quite cool sights for each 3 or 4 DAYS journey you take. The hotels are drab, the food uninviting, and we’ve not seen a white person since we got here. Which also means that we’re a vast source of local entertainment and get stared at everywhere we go (we’ve started to stare back. Surprisingly good fun, actually).
All in all, it’s been pretty hard core.
Still, the remaining Silk Road sights themselves were pretty cool, and what this crazy trip has given us is a chance to really witness the immense changes – topographical, environmental, cultural and anthropological – which take place along the Silk Road. It’s been kind of fascinating to watch the progression of faces from vaguely Slavic in Turkmenistan all the way through to the Chinese Muslims. Plus that ever important index, the availability of wine: from none whatsoever in Turkmenistan and most of Uzbekistan, to Georgian (surprisingly good) in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, to Chinese (we’ve had 2: one ok, one awful. Jury’s out) in China. A region of true diversity.
The first stop after Kashgar was Dunhuang, famous for 2 sights. One is the Mogao caves, a set of caves filled with Buddhist artwork dating from the 13th century and older, although frequently defaced by later Muslim traders who came along the Silk Road and couldn’t bear this evidence of believers of another faith. It’s an absolutely stunning sight and all the more remarkable after 3 weeks of Islamic art, but unfortunately we’ve no pictures – photos aren’t allowed as apparently 13th century wall paintings don’t take too kindly to the flash. The other main sight is the sand dunes, which were pretty awesome (as seen from the roof of our hotel – climbing a 1,000m sand dune filed us both with absolute horror).
Next stop, Jiayuguan and the end of the Great Wall, which was pretty epic, and provided a rather nice sense of completion.
We’re a bit sad still, because we’ve really loved parts of the Silk Road, and the Chinese segment didn’t quite live up to the rest of the route. But it’s been an amazing part of the journey. And the journey continues.
Next stop: Tibetan Buddhism!
Crazy in Kashgar
And so we rolled into Kashgar, where we had a rather nice sounding hotel booked for the night (based on the guidebook: new, own bathrooms, the works!). Unfortunately, the guidebook lied and the place ended up being rather elderly looking (holes in the walls), with dirty laundry lining the corridors and filthy rooms complete with aggressive looking bunches of Chinese men hanging round drinking and smoking. We cracked. We moved. Into a bit of a quirky place, Kashgar’s newest (and second) FIVE STAR establishment…. Still being built and with only one functioning lift, but very smart it was, more marble than you can shake a stick at and hot and cold running receptionists. Also (mercy of mercies) an enormous big fluffy bed and a BATH – haven’t seen one of those in a while. So we felt jolly smug with ourselves and decided that China was obviously going to be an easy ride vs. all those pesky Stans.
Kashgar is a famous market town; both for its daily Sunday market and its Sunday only Livestock market. Yep, we were confused too. Still, off we set for the market and – once again were a tiny bit disappointed in yet a other bright new shiny bazaar, carefully compartmentalized and clean as a whistle. Although the hat section was cool. And we were pretty happy about that whole clean as a whistle bit when we stopped for some noodles for lunch – figured those would be boiled to food hygiene safety – and the noodles actually turned out to be the cold variety. And, as it happens, delicious (no Mum, we weren’t sick. Yes I’ll be more careful from now on). On the walk back we discovered the old town of Kashgar which is where all the trading has moved now the market is so shiny and spent some happy hours there haggling for hats. James bought a rather natty drinking hat made out of GENUINE lynx fur and has been rather too cheerful with life ever since.
Next day was the livestock market where the real action happens. If you’ve never seen a few hundred enormously testicled fat bottomed sheep all lined up together ready for sale, well then….I think I might actually envy you. It’s certainly a sight that’ll stick. Compared to the sheep the enormous and rather moody cattle, braying donkeys, and, yes, I think even the camels (two humped and very very fluffy this time around) paled into insignificance.
Next stop, dinner at a local cafe with no English or picture menu. We’ll have one of what they’re having please (appetites weren’t that high having seen the unconcerned-with-cleanliness open air butchery stalls at the livestock market – right by the animals in fact which seemed a little unnecessarily cruel). As we finished up and moved to settle our bill, a small child sat on the pavement and crapped about a foot away from James shoe, leaving us with some unresolved queries about basic food hygiene in this part of the world…
It was something of a timely reminder actually. China may be many things, but an easy ride it ain’t.
In Sickness & In Health (Or: Qantas Pyjama Power!!)
Here’s a strange thing: pretty much ever since James and I got engaged, we’ve both been ill. Not anything life threatening of course, just a string of various low level traveler maladies that have had us both (a) feeling distinctly under the weather and (b) being about as far from glamorous as it’s possible for a newly engaged couple to be. Frankly I’m rather relieved the question has already been popped and cannot be un-popped….
Being sick on the road, particularly in relatively underdeveloped countries, leads to some deep, philosophical thoughts allowing us, after much debate, to come up with the following exhaustive definition.
“Luxury” is:
- A room warm enough to take off at least one of your five layers in. Failing that, plenty of bedclothes
- With a double bed large enough for both of us, with a real mattress
- Sheets on said bed. If you’re feeling particularly kind, make them clean sheets
- A toilet. Which flushes. In a bathroom which is all our very own
- Toilet paper. Of the non Soviet variety (it’s definitely eco-friendly, put it that way)
- And last but not least (did I mention we weren’t well), the ability to dispose of said toilet paper in the toilet without inadvertently flooding half of Central Asia’s sewage systems (no, we haven’t….yet…)
Suffice to say that, for the moment at least, we are not living in luxury. That’s ok though, because we have a secret weapon (you thought I was going to say “each other”, didn’t you?).
We have our Qantas pyjamas.
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. When times get tough, the tough get into their Qantas pyjamas. These are a rather nice cotton jersey affair in a muted mud brown colour – VERY tasteful – which started out life as rather high class numbers, provided solely to Qantas’ first class passengers for their extra snuggly comfort. They have subsequently suffered something of a fall from grace: nowadays, we use them basically as shields against all unpleasantness. To expound:
- Bed has no sheets? No problem – Qantas pyjamas will shield you from contact with stray foreign body hair
- Bed has sheets but of questionable provenance and cleanliness? Qantas pyjamas will protect you from venereal disease
- Room is glacial, bed has one thin coverlet? Qantas pyjamas are guaranteed to prevent hypothermia
- Frequent visitor to the shared toilet? Qantas pyjamas ensure you make that repeated trip in style
- Fiance starting to look somewhat askance at your pale, tired face? Qantas pyjamas make you look both cute and (I’m quietly confident in this) pretty darn SEXY
Thank God we’ve got them. You see the whole “sickness and health” lark doesn’t actually kick in until the wedding bells have rung. We’re not worried though.
We’ve got Qantas Pyjama Power!