The Stumble

If it isn't in the guide book, then how would you know? It was only through a stumble that we discovered a new way into Tibet.

There are only two countries from which you can enter Tibet: Nepal and China. From China you can fly to Lhasa from Chengdu or go overland from Golmud. That is until recently. In Dali we, just out of curiosity, asked the CTIS travel agent if we could get to Tibet via the Yunnan Province (through Zhongdian). We were already so close.

"Yes, but you must book in Kunming."

Wait a minute. The answer should have been "no". The guide book said this route was closed. We asked again to make sure.

"Yes, China Southwest Air flies between Zhongdian and Lhasa," the travel agent said again. "But you must book your ticket in Kunming. It is the only place."

Damn, we were kicking ourselves.We had already been to Kunming (a 10 hour train ride ago). We should have stopped at a China Southwest office and asked. But who knew?

"Don't you suppose that if a flight originates in Zhongdian, that you can buy tickets for that flight in Zhongdian?"

John assumption seemed reasonable and based on that hypothesis we continued deeper into the Yunnan; further north and further west away from Kunming.

In Lijiang we learned that our hunch was correct. Both an overland route and air route had opened from China to Tibet. "Yes, of course you can get air tickets in Zhongdian."

This was fantastic. This was Tibet through the side door. This entrance had only opened four months ago in April 2001. For us it meant a savings of a bus ride back to Kunming and another train ride to Chengdu. (You know how we love Chinses train rides.)

The Pass

The first thing we did in Zhongdian was find the ticket office. Naturally the ticket agent couldn't (or wouldn't) sell us tickets to Tibet - we weren't Chinese (despite our best efforts to appear so). No, we had to go the foreigner route where, in addition to climbing two flights of stairs at the Kongba hotel which left us hanging onto the railing breathless (don't forget we were over 10,000 feet above sea level here), we had to part with an exorbinant amount of Chinese yuan.

"Who exactly gets the money for this 'er permit?" John asked. "And what does this insurance we need to buy protect us from?"

A mumbo-jumbo of answers didn't ease the pain of pulling a wad of yuan notes from our money belts and handing them over.

Four days later we were again climbing those stairs (not so much huffing and puffing this time) to get our passes into Tibet.

"These were very hard to get," Liu Zhen at Tibet Travel told us. For a brand new route that wasn't yet in the guide books, and on a Boeing 757 with 240 seats (even giving that half of them had to remain empty due to our high altitude takeoff), it was hard to believe. How many people could be flying to Tibet?

There were eight travelers on the plane. The rest of the passengers were Chinese or Tibetan. Most of the locals were dressed in traditional clothes - layers of skirts, jumpers (mostly dirty) and large hats wrapped with scains of neon pink yarn. I half expected to see a pig under an arm (pigs were everywhere in Zhongdian, seen sauntering across lanes of traffic). But the ambiance of this new aircraft in this brand new airport didn't really lend itself to a pig. Besides, where would a pig go to the bathroom?

The Touchdown

"My God! Look at my pack!" John screamed when his backpack came jolting down the conveyor belt at baggage claim.

I was still on cloud nine, and eight and seven and all the others that we had seen from the airplane window that had been majestically pierced by pointy snowy Tibetan peaks. "Wha?"

"Something peed all over my pack," he yelled. "And...Oh man! It shit on it too."

It was a rather messy entrance into Tibet. We positioned his backpack in the minibus so as to avoid touching it and hoped that the air rushing through the windows on our hour and a half trip into the city would dissipate the odor.

"Can you believe we're really here?" I said. We had wanted to come to Tibet ever since trekking in Nepal five years ago. "Look at those mud houses, and those intricate paintings on the door frames." I pointed out the window. "Did you see those prayer flags? Look there's a yak." It seemed everything I looked at was worthy of a mention.

For once John wasn't finding the highest peak and suggesting we conquer it. Every long hike we had read about in Tibet was rated difficult to extreme. We needed time in Lhasa to acclimate to the altitude. Even then, crossing passes of 17,000 feet was going to be iffy.

Acclimation began for us at the Yak Hotel; a decorative Tibetan-style hotel in the heart of Lhasa. Although the Chinese have taken over, fortunately this small part of Lhasa has retained its Tibetan feel. There are detailed woodwork over entrances, hallways and doorways, all painted in striking primary colors. From the fourth floor (pant, pant, puff, puff) we got our first view of the Tibetan Potala palace. It is a view I will never forget.