If Carlsberg did Countries…

Tibet; packed with mountains, lakes and high plateau’s, not to mention the Buddhist culture that is so pivotal across the whole region makes for a unforgettable trip, packed with jaw dropping sights.

Unfortunately with these sights being at such high altitude (ranging from 3750m to 5245m above sea level) they caused us a few issues and we continually found ourselves breathing like Darth Vader until we managed to acclimatise.

Lhasa, the Tibetan capital, was our first stop and we explored the city whilst struggling to breath. Built on a hill in the middle of the city, Potala Palace is not only the focal point of the city, but also of all Tibetan Buddism. The palace was the Dali Lama’s residence until he went into exile, and the various tombs of former Dali Lama’s fill the heart of the palace, with the most impressive made up of 3700 kilograms of gold and decorated with uncountable numbers of gems and various other precious stones. We left the palace awestruck and for me it was unquestionably one of the best places I’ve ever visited.

The breathtaking Potala Palace

Potala Palace with a view of Lhasa

We left Lhasa and began the road trip taking us all the way to the Nepalese border. Needless to say the scenery was continually breathtaking as we traversed the region, and quite a pleasant change to driving down the M6.

Our first days driving took us over a high pass, which had been temporarily closed due to snow. The views were of course fantastic and the drops off the edge of the road, which our driver seemed to flirt with, terrifying. As we crossed the pass we got our first views of Yamdrok Lake. Held as a holy lake in Tibetan Buddhism, its easy to see why, with the lake extending into the distance and surrounded by snow peaked mountains while the water is so clear and unpolluted it appears perfect turquoise in colour. The photos don’t do it justice.

Holy Yamdrok Lake

Later on we stopped at another equally breathtaking lake, although this one was man made.

Tibetan Lake

The downside to this rugged, remote landscape was, like the majority of that part of the world, the toilet facilities. Thankfully our guide Pasang agreed with our assessment and regular nature stops were scheduled. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many toilet breaks with such breathtaking views. Thank you Tibet for turning what could have been a traumatic experience into a very memorable one!

After trekking to Everest Base Camp on the Nepalese side in 2011, I was looking forward to checking it out from Tibet. The Tibetan Base Camp is more accessible, and its possible to drive there, although the 82km of broken road gave us broken backs.

The weather wasn’t great, but we did get a view of the highest point in the world which capped of a week of stunning scenery. We visited the highest monastery in the world before spending the night in a big tent just below base camp, the fire kept us warm and an unnamed American member of the tour kept us all awake with his snoring. Thanks mate.

Stupa at Everest Base Camp

I’ll finish on a slight error in the title to this blog. Technically speaking it should read ‘if Carlsberg did autonomous regions’. Tibet, of course, lost it’s independence and became ‘reunited’ with China. However,  the Chinese and Tibetans are, to use an old a analogy  chalk and cheese. Different culture, beliefs and language are to name a few striking differences.

As we drove across Tibet it became obvious the Chinese Government were doing all they could to suppress any national sentiment and restrict population movement. It’s incredibly hard to get a permit to the region, and even once we’d obtained it, police and army checkpoints were a constant hassle on the road.

Nevertheless,  Tibet is an amazing place, one of the most incredible places I’ve had the pleasure of visiting and a must for anyone who wants a completely unique experience. On to Nepal and some uncensored internet. Thanks very much for your help in China Ask Jeeves, but I think I’ll be back to Google once we cross the border.

Sichuan Hotpot

After the last blog, I can thankfully write that this post isn’t coming at you from another horrific train and no there are not any infants within sight or ear shot. Although we are about to sleep rough outside an airport to catch our early flight to Tibet.

Chengdu and Xi’an have been the order of the last week. We’ve taken in the Giant Buddha, the Giant Panda Breeding Centre and the world famous Terra Cotta army.

I’ll kick things of with this Giant Buddha and when I say giant I’m not kidding, sitting at 71m tall we endured a particularly humid climb up to his head. Originally carved out of the cliff face by monks as a way to calm the dangerous river currents, he’s now a massive tourist attraction for the locals. Our time was split between admiring the statue and having photos taken with Chinese tourists. What a way to take it all in!

Now this prolonged photo shoot brought to our attention the Chinese love of English statements printed on their clothes.  No problem with that I hear you say, except for the crucial fact that none of them make any sense, for example: ‘A is for red’ was on one puzzling tee shirt. Now I’m no Gok Wan, but surely they could try and make some sense?! As a travelling English man, however, it doesn’t half make you laugh.

Im sure, however, the locals were laughing at our clothes after we’d had our experience with the Sichuan Hotpot. We arrived full of anticipation for the local delicacy and left not long after drenched in sweat and clutching our throats.

Now I’m a big fan of spice, but it’s no exaggeration to say that it blew my head off. The broth is left on the boil in the middle of the table and you cook your meat accordingly. Our broth was packed with chillies and angry red in colour,  the kind of colour you associate with the devil and hell itself.

At one point I did wonder if I had been transported there, but regular refreshments (beer) maintained our sanity. I’m proud to say me and Flakkers conquered the hotpot, but I can genuinely say I don’t think I’ve ever seen more sweat on two men in my life.

A long sleep and a lot of purposely bland meals later, we went to see Chengdu’s most famous sight, the Giant Pandas. Despite looking like they’d give you a great cuddle, they’ve got the strength and the claws to maul you in seconds,  as a few tree’s found out in quick succession.

Pandas are great,  but they aren’t aren’t aren’t aren’t aren’t aren’t aren’t aren’t aren’t aren’t a result don’t breed. Human intervention has prevented their demise, but to get them breeding the centre has had to resort to all sorts of measures – including playing Panda Porn (honestly, I’m not kidding) to try and get them in the mood. Not quite what you want to see at any point of the day, never mind just after breakfast.

Another brutal train ride brought us to Xi’an and the home of the world famous Terra-Cotta Army. Unfortunately it didn’t live up to it’s reputation in our eyes. Obviously the quality of the warriors and their preservation was incredible,  but the hordes of tour groups who battled elbow to elbow for a better view, and each tour leaders description via megaphone left us partially deaf at certain points. A must see in China, but you won’t last more than an hour there.

Spare a thought for the poor guy whose land the horde of valuable warriors were found on though. You’d think he retire a with millions, if not billions, in the bank after literally finding buried treasure. Nope. The Government ‘acquired’ the land from him upon their discovery. His reward? A job for life working at the tourist site. Ouch.

Our time in Xi’an is done, and the Beijing to Xi’an leg has been a real experience. Incredible sights and a fascinating, if a little intense, culture have been the order of the last three weeks. I am, however, ready to leave the smog behind. Next stop Tibet, and hopefully some bright, clear blue sky!

Taxis, Trains and Terrible Toddlers

It would seem fortunate to some, that after writing my last post from a (rather comfortable) luggage rack, that for my next long journey from the sleepy city of Hangzhou an hour outside Shanghai, across much of central China to Sichuan, and it’s capital Chengdu, that I have a seat.

That’s right, a seat. Fifteen hours of pure sitting comfort. The small detail I’m missing out? Apparently my seat is located in the heart of the nursery carriage.

Nothing like a few toddlers sipping red bull at 7:30am (that’s right, red bull) to ruin a journey. It hasn’t given these children wings, but instead shoe’s apparently full of lead, perfect for stamping up and down the carriage and on the seat next to me.

A particular highlight, so far anyway, was when the child next to me on his mother’s lap decided a perfect time to scream in my ear would be when I was sound asleep. Even earplugs don’t block that out, trust me.

I must confess, this journey didn’t go to plan before I sat down with these sugar hyped angels. For reasons best known to Hangzhou taxi drives, we were unable to book a taxi to the train station the evening before, so we woke at 5am to try again. No luck. Cue a short sprint, full baggage in tow, with arms flailing at every passing taxi. Thankfully, despite being continually passed, we managed to convince a driver to take us the forty minutes to our mobile nursery that would transport us across China.

Unfortunately this hasn’t been a Hangzhou one off, we’ve struggled to get taxis in every city we’ve visited. Any taxi journey has been tricky, and foreigners, especially westerners, seem to be a no go. Perhaps Chinese propaganda has labelled westerners in taxis as the true cause of Ebola, or maybe it’s because we are (especially the three of us) twice their size. I’m sure they have their reasons, and I’d love to know them, but it isn’t half frustrating.

I’ve touched on the two minor downsides of the last week, but so far neglected all the positives. After a packed Japan itinerary and nine days in Beijing and smoggy Shanghai, we were craving some down time and more importantly something away from a big city.

We found exactly what we were looking for in the West Lake Youth Hostel. Set in the scenic hills around Hangzhou we found our escape. A humid walk through the forest and tea plantation took up one day, and a cycle around Hangzhou’s famous lake another. Cycling in China, like general life, is dog eat dog. Having scooters coming down the pavement straight at you isn’t a rarity. Duck and weave was the mantra of the day.

A unintended Tuesday night out came about after we’d asked the receptionist for a quiet bar and she’d sent us to a very upmarket club. Feeling very under dressed (shorts and sandals were common place) and after looking at the menu, very under financially acquitted, we took up our given table near the dance floor.

I quickly excused myself for the mens room, took up my spot, but before I could get down to business I felt hands on my back which promptly began to massage me. Que massive stage fright.

Apparently this is a service offered in all toilets in Chinese clubs – a bit like the person offering you some aftershave in a club in the UK. After overcoming the Chinese language barrier to explain to him that no, I didn’t want any sort of hands on me while I went to the toilet, I rejoined our table and a good night was had all round.

A few more relaxing days and we felt ready to take on the next two big cities before we hit Tibet. Train tickets booked, we were all aboard the express nursery cutting through central China to Sichuan province and, what seems like the promised land at the moment, Chengdu.

A combination of Bob Marley, earplugs and every ounce of patience will get me to Chengdu, but aren’t these the kind of experiences backpacking is all about? Testing your character, putting yourself out of your comfort zone in a totally alien environment?

If they’re not, then please don’t tell me, at least not until I’m off this train, it’s the only thing that’s going to get me through.