Let's Go to the Malls ...

        Where we can dance the night away....

                                                 Yichang Mall 2006

Welcome to Yichang Mall

Yichang in Hubei Province is situated on the banks of the Yangtze river.  Open Air Malls are very popular with the locals. Day and night Yichang residents flock to the malls for activities like dancing, singing, painting, calligraphy or whatever they fancy.

                                               

 

Dancing is a favourite past time for Yichang residents.

          

Practice calligraphy on the ground, using giant paintbrush

Chongqing Mall

  

Over at Chongqing its kite flying season at the Mall. Chongqing is the jump off point for cruises on the Yangtze river and is located about 266kms from  Yichang.                        
                       

Lets go kite flying

       

Kite Flyers at the Chongqing Mall.

HANOI 2006

O Solitary Reaper

Behold her, single in the field

Yon solitary Viet lass....

Alone she cuts and binds the grain....

On the road to Halong Bay, 2006

CHILDREN ALL OVER THE WORLD

We are the children we are the world.....

Children's Garden, Rooftop Orchard Central

Children of Sikkim perform a cultural dance

Two Miao boys in the remote village of Dehang, Guangxi Province, China. Their toy is a dead rat !

Miao child from Dehang Village in her home with a ceiling full of  corn

Elder sister and baby on the rocks, Hunza, Pakistan

Hunza is also known as Centenarian Village but these

 Hunza kids tell a different story.

Cute kids from Yuksam Valley, Sikkim

Teochew boy from Shantou, China

Young Vietnamese lass is a charming crooner.

Children at play, Seam Reap, Cambodia.

DAZZLING DAYAOSHAN PART 1

Ricefields nestling beneath Dayaoshan mountains.

"The lofty peaks are crowned with smoky clouds,

In the forests centenarian trees endure."

is how one local verse describes the range of mysterious mountains and forests located in South China's Guangxi Province. Known as the Dayaoshan, it is a chain of mountains in the 2,000-3000metre range. Its verdant slopes which are hidden all year round by fog and mist, are the home of the gentle Yao minority group.

In Guangxi Province, there are 30 different branches of the Yao minority group. Within the Dayaoshan mountains there are five different branches - the Chashan Yao, Ao Yao, Pan Yao, Hualan Yao and the Shanzi Yao. Each branch of the Yao is differentiated by their head-dress.

The Cha Shan Yao, for instance, wear hats embellished with metal bands, while the Pan Yao wear circular hats. The Yaos of Dayaoshan have been mountain-loving woodlanders for many generations, living peaceably in their abodes, not unlike elves and gnomes in some green glen.

To visit the Yaos in their mountain fastness, we headed for the town of Liuzhou which is 140km from Jinxiu, the chief town in the Yao Autonomous County where the Yao people live and where the Dayaoshan mountains are located.

ROAD TO JINXIU

Land of Peach Blossoms

China is a land of superlatives where scenery is concerned, and the drive to Jinxiu certainly opened our eyes to its rustic beauty. We marvelled at how changeless China's rural areas have remained. The countryside seemed to be wrapped in sonorous slumber as we drove past lush valleys, redolent with pastoral tranquillity.

Timeless China

Flashing by our windsreeen, we caught sight of clusters of white-washed or beige, mud-walled farmhouses, black-tiled,with red couplets on wooden doors. In the fields, cows were grazing, farmers hoeing, ruddy-cheeked womenfolk with headscarves working, with babies strapped to their backs; peasants heaving stacks of grain, laying out bunches of hay for winter and piling wood by doorways. They worked on neat vegetable plots, fields of padi,sugar cane and bamboo groves. In the distance the brooding limestone cliffs of Guangxi enfolded the fields and valleys in warm embrace.

Sharing our country road were jiggling little pony carts, men leading bullocks, women hoisting bamboo baskets and schoolboys running pellmell to village schools. The rich produce of the land, mandarin oranges, pomelos and sugar cane were spilling from orchards and farms on to country roads as enterprising peasants set up makeshift stalls to sell their surplus harvest.

In this region of abundance, we were greeted on every side with smiles and greetings and warm salutations. Perhaps, we were plain lucky,or it was a temporary illusion, but here in the heart of Guangxi, we seemed to have stumbled onto that fabled Land of Peach Blossoms where people lead charmed lives.

Abundant warmth!

Abundant harvest!

DAZZLING DAYAOSHAN

Part 2

JINXIU

When we were within 53km of Jinxiu, the road began to climb as we ascended Dayaoshan. Jinxiu's town centre, made up of one solitary street is a sleepy hollow. It also doubles up as the local market. We were fascinated by a stall selling dried rats as a local delicacy and intriqued by another displaying an unending row of herbs. According to official records, 2,300 different kinds of plants are found in this region.The Yaos are remarkably friendly and are quite ready to stop for a chat or offer a cup of tea. While minding their stalls, some knit, sew or do hand embroidery. Although most of the womenfolk wear trousers and Chinese jackets, the peculiar hats they don mark their Yao ancestry.

A Yao doctor with her array of herbs

At Jinxiu we checked into a newly built local hotel, a smallish affair of five storeys.We had to trudge with our luggage up to the fourth floor as the building had no lift. The double room was minuscule and once all our bags were inside, we couldn't move around without stepping on them. We were not complaining,however, as the price was only something like S$15 and it came with a flush toilet and shower. From our windows we could also see the sunset over the distant hills. The Karoke, located just above our bedroom, was another matter. It effectively prevented us from getting a good night's sleep.

As it gets chilly at Jinxiu in the evenings we were invited to a dinner of dog meat which, the Chinese believe, can keep the body warm. Of course, we demurred but our guide and driver decided to accept the challenge. We sat at separate tables where we whey-faced Singaporeans, ate from a dogless menu while our gusty China friends tucked into man's best friend. Eating dog meat we observed was also accompanied by the revelry of finger-guessing games followed by rounds of wine drinking.

YAO VILLAGES

Jinxiu is a good base to outlying Yao villages. The first we visited was Meng Chun(Dream Village)which is 8km from the town centre. Situated on a hill it gives a lovely outlook of ricefields nestling in the valley bed beneath the folds of the Dayaoshan Mountains. Life must be hard in this village,which still follows traditional methods of farming, but I was moved to observe the blithe insouciance among the robust peasantry as they husked and sieved their grain.

Yao lass

Further south, is the Min Su Chun (People's Village) which represents a typical Yao community. The villages are built straggling up a slope and the whole village is linked by a network of rocky alleys, lanes and paths. A hog snorts nasally as our clatter disturbs its noonday lethargy.Most households in this village rear a pig, not for sale but for consumption as, according to Yao customs, a pig must be slaughtered for the Lunar New Year celebrations. The meat that is left over from the festivities is then smoked or salted and can be kept and eaten for the remainder of the year.

The houses in this village are flamboyant and decorative which is, perhaps, reflective of the Yao's personality and lifestyle. Each house has a flight of flagstone steps leading up to an eye-catching gate, painted in gorgeous hues depicting motifs of flowers, birds, insects or fish.

Min Su Chun Village House

OLD MOUNTAINS

The Old Mountains, which is part of the Dayaoshan range, is located 16 km from Jinxiu. Our mini van was put to the test as it slogged up a narrow, ungravelled road, grinding past lonely,wooded ravines. To our disappointment, the mountains were thickly shrouded in mist,which seemed to get thicker as we gained height. At one stetch, we could barely see within 50 metres and the condensation on the windscreen was so bad that our guide had to constantly wipe it with a cloth. We were literally driving through a sea of clouds which made the journey suddenly dangerous. Just as we were despairing of getting any good view, our van shot through the cloud path and we were in bright sunshine. With fleecy clouds floating on the valleys below and the sky an incandescent blue above, we could make out the thread-like footpaths used by the Yaos to reach their sequestered mountain homes.

Thread like paths used by the Yaos

HOLIDAY STOCKADE VILLAGE

In the same vicinity as the Old Mountains is the Yao Zai Du Jia Chun (Holiday Stockade Village) which has been recently developed. Reaching this hideaway entailed a half-hour trek
uphill and down dale. The Holiday Stockade attempts to recreate the ambience of a Yao stronghold which is hidden and secluded deep in the dappled forest glades.

Screened by fragrant trees, with Yao-styled wooden cabins which are built on stilts and set into the verdant slopes, the Stockade exudes that back-to-the woods feeling. Each cabin
contains a double bed and costs about S$10 per night.

When we arrived, chickens squawking and clucking, were running wild while a Yao lass, armed with a net, panted up and down trying to catch one for our group's lunch. The Stockade does not have running water but hollow bamboo rods, laid on the hill slopes, act as pipes to lead water down from flowing mountain streams. The sound of mountain water rushing through the bamboo rods fills the whole Stockade with its own piped-in music.

Besides exploring the surrounding pristine forests, nature buffs who stay at the Stockade may go on hunting trips, track down a river for a spot of fishing or simply enjoy crabbing at some secret pond. In a clearing at a lower level of the Stockade are massage cabins built of bamboo. Inside each dark cabin is a bamboo bed where patrons needing treatment are tended to with soothing Yao herbs. Presumably, such treatment is a much needed luxury after the rigours of romping through the Dayaoshan range. A 45 minute massage would cost aboutS$8.

SILVER CHINA FIR RESERVE

Our last stop was the Yin Sha (Silver China Fir) Forest Reserve nearby. The Reserve, stretching over eight kms, was specially set up to protect the Yin Sha Tree (Silver China Fir), which is considered one of the world's rare endangered species. The underside of the Yin Sha leaves are streaked with silver and when a breeze rustles through the forest, the leaves shimmer with a silvery glow. The Chinese equate the rarity of the Yin Sha with that of the Panda and four full-time foresters are engaged to look after the Reserve.

According to scientific research, Yin Sha trees flourished in Europe, 300 million years ago, where their fossil remains can still be found. In the Dayaoshan Reserve, there are Yin Sha trees of all ages. In fact,like a Chinese household, five generations of the Yin Sha trees live under one forest roof. One patriach,known as the king of the Yin Shas measures 30m high and is 490 years old. We could almost smell a primeval nip in the air as we walked in the company of these grand old centenarians or "living fossils", and heard water gurgling eternally over rocks in ancient streams.

In a volatile and changing world, the Yaos and the Yin Shas impressed us with their immutability. As we left the Reserve, we prayed that the Dayaoshan Mountains would remain their sanctuary for many more aeons.

UNWINDING IN SIKKIM

Shedding our inhibitions and leaving urban Singapore behind we set out to explore Sikkim's narrow serpentime roads, sheer cliffs, serrated mountains and turbulent rivers.

Our 2 week tour cum trek was organised by a Sikkimese tour company, Foothills Adventure with whom we had corresponded for over a year. The company based in the capital Gangtok conducted business with the simple faith of innocent folks such is life like in Sikkim. Though small and obscure they were no fly-by-night operators and we found to our delight that we were not expected to pay a single cent until the last day of our trip.

Our holiday started with a trek at the hamlet of Yuksam,which is the base of all treks in West Sikkim. Yuksam meaning three lamas derives its name from the historical meeting of the three Learned Lamas who came togeter for the coronation of Sikkim's first king in 1641. A stupa and monastery has beern erected to mark this consecrated spot and the stone throne from the first coronation is still intact.

THE TREK

Yuksam-Dzongri

Most treks from Yuksam are bound for Dzongri, a two-day march away. The trail winds steeply though pure wilderness of pine, rhododendron, fir and oak forests,of waterfalls and streams. Not surprisingly, rare creatures like the red panda, blue sheep and snow pigeon make their home here.

Unlike Nepalese treks this was no Kleenex trail! According to the park warden,the routes are kept in pristine condition by constant cleaning and maintenance, not forgetting the relatively smaller number of trekkers.

Sunlight hours are short in late Autumn and each day we had to reach our destination before 5pm or face the ordeal of groping round cliffs and ravines in total darkness.

At 4030m Dzongri is the place for closeup views of Mt. Kanchenjunga, the third highest Himalayan mountain, where we were headed. But we never arrived there, as at various points of time, members of our group of six fractious individuals, ages 12-50 succumbed to illness, fatigue as well as a broken toe.

The Tibetan Villlage of Tshoka

However we made a refreshing two-day stop at the tiny Tibetan village of Tshoka,the last inhabited settlement on the route. There our accommodation was a simple trekkers' lodge, a short distance from the village.It was spartan lodging, but we weren't complaining because behind the lodge were the snowy peaks of Kanchenjungaand Pandim Whenever the clouds parted - unfortunately not often it was like the God's smiling down on us. In fact in Sikkim, Kanchenhunga is worshipped as a God and considered the Abode of Gods. That's why foreign expeditions attempting to scale this mountain are obliged to stop short of the summit in deference to local beliefs.Tshoka village stands at 3200m and consists of ten tibetan homesteads and one monastery, clustered on a slope.Wooden hedges fence in a rural scene of vegetable and potato plots, grazing horses and women hoeing the land.

Over all this ascetic Buddhist prayer flags flutter in the wind, mutely beseeching the heavens.There's no electricity and running water and the temperature is a numbing -2 degree.Life is surely not easy so it must be our urban minds that paint utopic pictures of rustic living. But for our group who did not have to get up early to tend to animals or the land, the mornings were quite sublime - with frost on the ground and the whole world locked in a quietness so deep, one could break one's heart just listening to the sounds of silence.

Walking with Devotees to Kechoepalri Lake

After the Holy Mountain, our next stop was the sacred Kechoepalri Lake also known as the 'Wish-Fulfilling Lake. Although its set in the middle of a wood and surrounded by dense foliage, not a single leaf disturbs its clear, blue-green waters. The birds inhabiting the nearby forests are said to act as 'guardians' by removing any waste which falls into the lake.

Kechoepalri the Wish Fulfilling Lake

Prayer flags strung from trees formed a hallowed canopy overhead, while below holy stupas lined the path leading to the lakeside. Together they created a spiritual mood.This caused devout pilgrims to tread quietly, as they came bearing unworldly gifts - fistful of wild blossoms,incense sticks,butter lamps and prayer flags. The pervasive religious mood was enchanting and we soon found ourselves shedding our cynicism and citylife complexities, and joined in with the devotees to cast our wishes - actually believing all our dreams would come true.

The Wheels and Road Journey:

Pemayangtse

A two hour drive led us to Pemayangtse,the old Sikkimese capital, another ideal spot for mountain reflection and where on a clear day you can see the mountains forever.

Perched just above the town the Pemayangtse Monastery is Sikkim's second oldest monastery. It features beautiful wall frescoes and shelves lined with holy sutras. Especially beautiful is the Santhokpelri, a huge wooden structure depicting a vision of Paradise, which occupies one room on the topmost storey. The holy man, Dunzin Ringpoche,was the inspiration behind this feat of art which was entirely handcarved and took five years to complete.

Gangtok

Our last stop was Gangtok, the Sikkimese capital. With a population of 45,000, this is the only place in Sikkim that actually bustles and looks crowded. Standing 1,520m high, the town is built on a slope, with modern houses tumbling down in haphazard fashion. In contrast, are the bazaars teeming with local color - and they are the nucleus of life in Gangtok. Our group picked up some good bargains - woollen goods, Sikkimese tea, Tibetan handicrafts and religious objects.

Gangtok Street Scene

Sikkim's largest and most active monastery - Rumtek Monastery is 24km away from Gangtok. The buildings are modelled on its original headquarters in Tibet and are a good example of Tibetan architecture shimmering in resplendent colours of red, gold and turquoise.

Rumtek Monastery

Such is the religious lure of Rumtek that it has drawn a Singaporean within its monastic walls. This lama whom we had the affinity to meet has overcome the cultural differences and language problems and adapted to the meditative life in Rumtek

A PHOENIX IN THE LAND OF THE DRAGON

"Once in the Phoenix Tower

 the phoenix paced

 Now the phoenix has gone

 the tower empty,

 only the river flowing on"

A thousand years ago Li Bai wrote these words mourning the demise of the fenghuang or phoenix, one of China's most beloved mythical creatures.

Historic Fort where battles long ago were fought

On a trip to China, we were lucky to track down the legendry Phoenix Town or Fenghuang, complete with an ancient fortress and tower making Li's poem come alive. Buried deep in the heart of Western Hunan, Fenghuang may not have originated from the phoenix of Li,s poem. But it too has a long history stretching back 500 years.

Lying within the Xiangxi, Tujia and Miao Autonomous Prefecture, it has a population of 20,000 comprising a mix of Han as well as Tujia and Miao minorities. As Fenghuang has all the rustic charms so attractive to intrepid Western travellers, we were rather surprised not to encounter any during our visit.

Perhaps what has helped to preserve Fenghuang as a rural backwater hardly touched by tourism is the fact that it lies so well of the main communication lines. Also its tourist facilities are so little developed and language pose a great hurdle. The nearest railway line is 53km away at the town of Jishou which in turn is 503km fromthe provincial capital of Changsha.

Fenghuang's Old Square

In China the phoenix is revered as the precursor of fortune. According to a legend, Fenghuang was once an arid forsaken village until it was visited and blessed by the phoenix which bestowed rain, fertility and prosperity to the area. Subsequently, it was renamed to honour and commemorate its benefactor.

Today, the only phoenixes around are those that still adorn some of the decorative rooftops in Fenghuang remaining as visible reminders of this mystical bird.

Although Phoenix Town wears a lost forgotten aura,it lays claim to having brought forth three famous sons. The first prime minister of China, Xiong Xiling was a native of Fenghuang while critically-acclaimed writer, Shen Congwen was also born and bred in the locality. Another cultural figure to emerge from Fenghuang's fertile soil is contemporary artist and calligrapher Huang Yong Yu. All these, explained the guide who accompanied us on our walkabout, were manfestations of the beneficence of the phoenix.

To reach Fenghuang we boarded a local bus from the Jishou Bus Station. The ride took us past wild, meandering mountain roads flanked by neat plots of farmlands hibernating quietly under wintry skies.

The best way to savour the picturesque Chinese town is to take a walking tour. Leading off from the bus station is the bustling one lane bazaar where locals carry on their daily trade and commerce. Some curious sights greeted us on our stroll: an open air clinic with a white robed doctor in attendance; seamstresses furiously pedallling intricate embroidery designs on their sewing machines; and colourful wild game dangling from street stalls. Then there was the night soil man trundling past with his dangerous cargo: old men sitting in the sun and young children riding piggy-back in wicker baskets.

Faces of Fenghuang

Old women visiting the dentist

An Open Air Clinic, Fenghuang

The birthplace and home of novelist Shen Congwen

Our first destination in Fenghuang was the birthplace of writer Shen Congwen. Shen passed away in 1988. His house of black wood timber tucked away in a quiet lane, is in a well preserved state. As Shen's celebrated novel Border Town was based on his childhood memories in this remote part of China, we were intrigued by the opportunity to probe into the psyche of this man as we explored his birthplace.

 

Shen Congwen writing about his beloved Fenghuang:

"...all through the middle reaches of the river in autumn and winter your eyes are caught by the cottages perched on crags overhanging the water. With their brown mud walls, black tiles and perfect setting they harmonize so completely with the surroundings that your heart leaps up in delight. Any traveller withthe least feeling for poetry or painting could drift here...spellbound"

From Shen's house it was natural for us to wander down to the river front to experience the place described by Shen's vivid prose

Late Autumn by the banks of the Tuojiang

 

The Tuojiang river lies just outside the fortress-like North Gate where roughly-hewn flagstone steps lead down to the water. Here, housewives pound washing with wooden paddles by the riverside, coolies balancing long poles spring lithely across a narrow log bridge, and fishermen with cormorants make their catch.

The harmony of the Tuojiang is a place apart

 

Although the "brown mud walls"of houses have been replaced by concrete, the setting and ambience appeared to have been fossilized from Shen,s novel. Tuojiang still flows endlessly. Dark crags still encircle the quayside houses. And trees still wear their late autumnal colours while the people's lives continue to hum around the riverside. The fortress, the river and the love story of Emerald the ferryman's daughter are at the enigmatic heart of Fenghuang or the Border Town.

...recalls Shen Congwen writing in his autobiography of the fortress ,
"standing at dusk on a high place in that town which stood impressively alone in the embrace of endless mountain ranges and gazing at the distant weathered walls which were all that remained of ancient forts, I could almost hear the horns blaring and see the torches blazing to warn of danger..."

Life is slow, simple and dreamy. We stopped to admire the garden of a resident and was warmly invited in for a rest. Zhang Junwu the owner, is 70 years old. Like a refined mandarin,he passes his time tending to flowers, composing poetry and practicing calligraphy. With gentle courtesy, he takes up his brush to dedicate a poem to mark his chance affinity with his unexpected guests

Fenghuang however was not all literature and poetry. It had its darker side as well. Towards the end of our trip, we were caught in an ugly incident with some local men. To be fair, the incident may have arisen out of cultural differences or a miscommunication.

My avid photographer husband had just taken a couple of shots at the Fenghuang Bus Station when he suddenly found himself surrounded by four thuggish looking locals. A fast and bewildering exchange ensued. Than a savage kick from the back floored him.

As he struggled to get up, he was downed by a punch from the front. Our guide who at the start of the scuffle was at the far end of the station, was instantly by his side, quickly dispensing cigarettes and dispelling the tension. The violence was so quickly quashed that we couldn't believe it had really happened.

Though shaken, the brief tussle did not sour our impression of Fenghuang. Rather, it sharpened our perception of the existence of the hard and gentle in this far off location. The sudden spill of energy in this otherwise placid community reminded us of the characters in Shen's novel "who are torn by love and hate, exactly what fills their minds it is hard to say"

As we pulled away from this place of stirring beauty that conceals a well of explosive emotions, Fenghuang's magic spun a web in our hearts, beckoning us with powerful tugs to return again.

HUNZA PART 1

---THE FIRST SHANGRILA---
HUNZA
Where Mountains Meet   

Secret and elusive the Hunza Valley @ 8,000ft  is hemmed in by 20,000 ft mountains

Tucked in the Northern corner of Pakistan, are some of the most pristine and unspoilt mountain ranges in the world. This is the region with the greatest concentration of highest peaks and the most extensive glacier system outside of the Poles. Here, too, is the meeting point of the three greatest ranges, the Himalayas, the Karakorums and the Hindu Kush.

Known as the Northern Areas, this region was opened to tourism with the completion of the Karakoram Highway (KKH)in 1978. The KKH, a fantastic highway built with Chinese cooperation, took 20 years to complete and at great cost to life. Following the ancient Silk Route, it cuts through one of the world's toughest terrains, to snake for 805km from Ralwalpindi, Pakistan's capital, to the 15400ft. Khunjerab Pass on the Chinese border.

Buried in a gigantic mountain range, Hunza was, before the opening of the KKH, one of the most isolated regions of Pakistan. It was the first Shangrila, dreamt up by James Hilton in the novel Lost Horizon. Now it is accessible via the KKH from Gilgit, which is in turn connected by air from Ralwalpindi.

The one hour mountain flight into Gilgit reputed to be the second most dangerous flight in the world, was thrilling to say the least and gave us a spectacular aerial view of Nanga Prabart and the Karakorams. Hunza is only 112km drive from Gilgit along the KKH. Signs along the route warned of slide-prone areas and obviously the whole terrain had to be handled slowly and gently. The cliffs looming overhead appeared ready to crumble at the slightest agitation.

Primeval mountains

SAVAGE MOUNTAINS

The Hunza Valley situated at an elevation of 8,000ft is hemmed in by 20,000 footers.The mountains are craggy and rugged exposing bare flanks of rock, flint and snow. The bleakness of the heights is tempered by terraced valley fields and orchards planted with an amazing variety of apricot, peach, apple, cherry and plum trees.

The people of Hunza are noted for their longevity as Hunza is also known as the Village of Centenarians. The famous Hunza water is purportedly responsible for the good health. Hunza folk dress in traditional colourful costumes.The women are particularly lovely in baggy trousers and loose shirts, thier heads covered with embroidered caps, sometimes topped by a scarf. The men also don woollen caps, sometimes with a bright flower tucked rakishly at the side.

  

The village houses are of mud and stone,often with an apricot or mulberry tree leaning picturesquely against it. The roofs are flat with openings to let out smoke fromthe cooking hearth. Ladders are used for commuting between different levels as staircases are not a feature of village homes.

 

Hunza Village Scenes

KARIMABAD

Karimabad, the administrative capital of Hunza, is off the main KKH. It is situated on a perpendicular slope which is only passable to jeeps and, the ride up was like being pulled up the mountain feet first with our heads dangling after. Luckily this stunt-like, vertigo-inducing ride was of short duration.

Our aptly named Mountain View Hotel in Karimabad provided us with an unparallelled view of the 25,000 ft. Mt. Rakaposhi which dominates the whole valley. Next to Mt Rakaposhi was Golden Peak, Uttar, Passu and a host of unknown and unnamed snow peaks sitting cheek by jowl.

Near the vicinity of Karimabad are two old forts worth visiting - Baltit Fort, 600years old, and Altit, 300years old. Both are perched scenically on cliff tops and have all the ingredients of fairy tale castles featuring ornately carved windows, posts and towers. Both are accessible by jeep.

Altit Fort

 Baltit Fort

HUNZA PART 2

GULMIT

From, Karimabad to Gulmit (2hours drive away), the next stop on our itinerary, the mountain contours grow sharper and craggier - saw-toothed, knife-edged, fluted peaks rear their heads in unending succession. At Gulmit, we put up in the deluxe Silk Route Lodge whose rooms are designed in celebration of mountains - the nearby Passu Cathedrals almost pop onto the private balconies while real-life snow peaks lie framed in bathroom windows.

Saw-toothed Passu Cathedrals from the windows of our hotel.

TREKKING IN HUNZA

Trekking and hiking is the order of the day in this region of mountain splendour and abundant glaciers. One of the greatest joys of trekking Pakistan's mountains is the complete loneliness and isolation. Many of the mountains are uninhabitated and some are so pristine and unexplored as not to have been trodden by human feet. The other side of the coin is that these are some of the toughest terrains and treks in the world. Also, not everyone is drawn to the special quality of these rocky monoliths - stark, barren, grey, unrelieved by greenery.

Visits to nearby glaciers may be made from both Karimabad and Gulmit. Uttar Glacier is behind the Baltit Fort and a day-excursion from Karimabad is possible. Hoper Village and Glacier is 25km from Karimabad and a combination of jeep cum trekking took us to the remote village and the 'female black glacier'. Day treks from Gulmit may also be made to the Batura, Passu and Gulmit glaciers. All these treks involved long strenuous walks over rough terrain with tortuous stretches of scrambling up and down loose scree, rocks and boulders, often in blazing temperatures and not a hope of shade in sight, hardly the stuff of a relaxing holiday but for some it was the ultimate in mountain experiences.

Passu Trek

Passu Glacier

Sweet scented valley above Gulmit Village, one of the few gentle valleys encounterd on trek

KHUNJERAB PASS

Our encounter with mountains climaxed in the dramatic switchback ascent by coach to the Khunjerab Pass at 15,400ft. Even in high summer, snow lies mantled on the mountain slopes while yaks graze beneath the Pass. The top of the Pass is uninhabited and is marked by stone pillars bearing Chinese and Pakistani national symbols. From the summit, the long road winds down into the Chinese province of Sinkiang. The temperture was sub zero and snow flakes were falling when we made a brief stop for the mandatory photos.

Yaks crossing the glacier near Khunjerab Pass

IN DAYS OF YORE ...

It had been a breeze for us riding up the Pass, snug and comfrotable in our modern coaches. But from the bleak and inhospitable scenery one can easily imagine travel in the Silk route

days when

"....the way was difficult and rugged, running along a bank exceedingly preciptous. When one approached the edge of it, his eyes became unsteady, and if he wished to go forward in the same direction, there was no place on which he could place his foot, and beneath were the waters of the river called the Indus." Compared to this saga of travel in ancient days, our return trip from Khunjerab to Ralwalpindi via the KKH, covering 805km and taking two days by motorised vehicles, seemed

like child's play.

ROUTE MAP

TIBETANS

My friends are

H A R D W O R K I N G

G E N T L E

C R E A T I V E

and B E A U T I F U L

Ladakh

The Road to Enlightenment

Lofty mountains typically inspire men towards the spiritual and this is especially true of the mighty Himalayan range where Buddhist gompas or monasteries are a constant feature of the rugged landscape.The pictures here explore some of the oldest and most picturesque gompas in Ladakh, a stark high altitude desert located at the Northern tip of India.

Pilgrims toiling with heavy loads makes true the maxim that the road to enlightenment is not easy

Situated at 3350m Ladakh is buried deep inthe folds of the Himalayas and the Karakorams. Its other name is Little Tibet and it is a stronghold of Tibetan Buddhist culture. Nearly every village in this deeply religious land has its own monastery some of which date back hundreds of years and stand as huge staircases to heaven.Perched in aerie-like locations, these precious citadels of faith, continue to preserve centuries old rituals and traditions. They symbolise man's belief that the mountains are the Abode of Gods and here in these Himalayan Peaks Gods and mountains really meet!

The Mulbech Monasterystands as a beacon of faith on a rocky, barren road which leads from Kashmir into Ladakh. The monastery is built around a rock outcropping onto which the figure of Maitreya, the Buddha of the future has been sculpted.

The Shey Monastery perched on a knife edged ridge, the path to the monastery is dotted with stupas and shrines.


LAMAYARU GOMPA Altitude 3445m

This heart-stopping lamaseryLamayaru is like a tiny speck against Ladakh's almost phantasmagorical mountainscape. Its buildings sit atop a tower of rocks and blend into the sand-coloured cliffs above and below. In this setting the chants of lamas really seem to float up to the heavens.


The Thikse Gompa is a 16th century monastery perched on a hill high above the Indus. Its muti-structured buildings houses many rare thankas, wall paintings and gold icons.

The largest and most spectacular monastery in Ladakh is the Hemis Monastery situated in the south of Leh, the capital of Ladakh The monastery is part of the Bka Brgyudpa School of Tibetan Buddhism which is one of four major schools. Its open courtyard, against a backdrop of majestic mountains, is a fitting place for Dances with the Gods.

HEMIS FESTIVAL

Every year from July 9 to 11, devotees make a pilgrimage to the Hemis Fair which is celebrated with dances, religious ceremonies and exhibitions of sacred objects and thanka paintings.The faithful attending the Fair come from all over Ladakh as well as from all over the world.

COMMENCEMENT OF THE TANTRIC DANCES

The dancers garbed in elaborate robes, black hats and copper masks, carry hand drums and bells while melodiously chanting mantras. The dances are ritualistic and symbolic, reflecting the lives of various gurus and Holy Teachers. It is believed people who attend these ceremonies will obtain spiritual merit, long life, wealth, happiness, courage and dignity.

A SEPARATE PEACE IN XIANGXI

Rural tranquility and natural beauty in the wild west of Hunan

Wedged between the mountain ranges separating the Chinese provinces of Sichuan, Guizhou and Hunan lies the relatively untouristed county of Xiangxi or Western Hunan. Xiangxi has a reputation of being Hunan's wild outland and if popular hearsay is to be believed, its mountainous terrain was once the lair of bandits and outlaws. But inspite of the rumours or because of it, my family and I were drawn to this strange backwater area, with its legends, minority culture, rich folklore and literary history.

Jishou is the administrative centre of the Xiangxi county and is 503km away from Changsha, the capital of Hunan Province. We made Jishou the springboard for visits to several interesting villages and small towns in the vicinity. In the course of our stay we travelled via local bus, train, taxi and ferry to explore enigmatic Fenghuang, (see related link) the romantic fishing village, Hibiscus and the remote minority hamlet of Dehang.

Jishou, the administrative centre

Jishou is typical of small towns in China which have experienced progress and prosperity but are as yet untouched by mass tourism. Its like a small boom town with wide pavements crammed with all kinds of merchandise from fruit and food to clothing, toys and household ware.

The most picturesque part of Jishou is along the banks of the Donghe. Here, traditional houses supported on wooden stilts driven into the riverbank can be seen. An antiquated ferry brings Jishou folk across the river. The ferryman does not use oars or motor. Instead, the small craft is operated by some sort of rope-pulley with the ends tied to both banks. To cross the river, just pull the ropes.

Fenghuang - or the Border Town

As the first excursion from Jishou, we chose the atmospheric town of Fenghuang. It is the birthplace of noted Chinese writer Shen Congwen who based his celebrated novel Border Town on this region. We boarded a bus at the Jishou Long Distance Bus Station and the 53km distance was covered in 40mins. Like Jishou, Fenghuang also boasts a small river - the Tuojiang and strolling along its banks gave us an opportunity to imbibe the spirit of Fenghuang.

The whole landscape appeared to have emerged from a Chinese ink painting. The dark waters of the Tuojiang blending with the autumn tinted weeping willows by the waters edge evoked an immortal picture of Chinese river idyll.

Another day breaks on the on the banks of the river Tuojiang. Womenfolk pound the mornings washing, coolies haul their loads and fishermen harvest the river. Life hums and spins endlessly and Fenghuang citizens exhibit a calm indifference to outsiders concentrating on their work. They seemed busy, self contained and contented making us glad to have glimpsed their Separate Peace.

In the words of writer Shen, "....in the sunlight as they bent over their work. Peace reins supreme and the townsfolk spend all their days in a solitude hard to imagine. Tranquillity makes them reflect more deeply on life, makes them dream more......exactly what fills their minds it is hard to say."

Coolies trudged by bearing heavy logs

Fishermen harvest the river with the help of black coromants

The fishing village Hibiscus aka Furong Zhen

This sleepy fishing town sited on the banks of Mengdong He (Fierce Cave River)was originally known as Wangcun (village of the Wangs) When the award winning film Hibiscus Town was shot here on location it was renamed Hibiscus Town. The film, based on a novel by Gu Hua chronicles the lives of innocent, honest, hard-working folk who are destroyed by the political campaigns during the Cultural Revolution. The movie makes strong denouncement about the excesses of those tumultous years.

Hibiscus Town is normally reached by taking a one-hour train ride from Jishou to the town of Mengdong He (Fierce Cave River)and then changing to a ferry.

The mystique of Hibiscus Town is centred in the area around the harbour. The best way tospend an evening in this rustic village is to patronise the old-fashioned quayside cafes which offer piping hot dishes admidst panaromic sunsets

In the mornings, when grey mists envelope the harbour in gossamer robes, the ambience is both sininster and romantic, conjuring visions of smugglerrs, bandits and chivalrous swordsmen dressed in white

We caught a ferry to explore the Mengdeng river, which is more than 200km long and which offers many dramatic sights en route. The cruise winds through deep gorges, quiet valleys, steep cliffs riddled with caves and we met many people living in fishing boats along the remote banks and islets of the Mengdeng He (Fierce Cave River)

Dehang - a Miao minority hamlet

As Xiangxi is home to a sizable population of Miao minorities, we made a side trip to visit a Miao hamlet located in the scenic area of Dehang, about 30km from Jishou.

Miao hamlet located in the scenic area of Dehang,

 about 30km from Jishou.

Firecrackers greeted us in a traditional

 gesture of Miao welcome.

The Singing Miaos steal our hearts with songs

 declaring love and friendship

Most of the villagers are farmers and they supplement their livelihood with basket weaving, cloth making and other traditional crafts.

TRAVEL NOTES

Changsha the capital of Hunan is connected to all major Chinese cities including Guangzhou by air, rail and road. Jishou, the administrative center of Xiangxi (Western Hunan) is connected to Changsha and some Chinese cities by rail and road. The small towns of Fenghuang, Dehang and Hibiscus Town can be reached by local bus, train, taxi or ferry.

Why we chose to go

Riding the highest highway in the world

“It’s now or never and no second chance" was how one journalist described the travels of English novelist John David Morley to Lamalera, a remote fishing village in Indonesia. Although John Morley had heart problem and was using a pig’s valve to replace one faulty valve in his heart, he was still game to risk his condition together with the attendant dangers associated with the remoteness and inaccessibility of the destination. And all for his heart’s, desire to observe the near extinct practice of hunting sperm whales as a subsistence living.

Our overland journey into Tibet was nowhere so dramatic but counting all the odds, it felt quite comparable! The overland journey would pose a challenge for anyone but more so for our group of ten elderly participants (the average age was 65 with the oldest members at 78 and 77)if we consider the long hours on the road, the high altitudes we had to reach, and the fear of being trapped for hours on the mountain passes.

With mountains rising up to 7000m and peaks topping 8000m above sea level Tibet, has achieved fame as the Roof of the World. It is indeed not a land for the faint hearted or the old. And if Tibet is the Roof of the World, then Qinghai, which is the remote and equally forbidding province sitting on top of Tibet must be its Rooftop! And we were to traverse across this bleak and treacherous region known as the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau into Lhasa. On the plus side, land travel into Tibet may be the best way to go, not only for the spectacular scenery en route but because it can help spread the altitude gain over a few days.

What then drove us to embark on such an “expedition"? It was not a rite of passage. We were not out to prove our strength in the face of halting youth nor were we marking our aging. Unlike Morley I did not have heart problems but suffered from aches and pain. However I had long been enamoured of the Qinghai/Tibet Highway lured as I am by the evocative place names of Kunlun, Tanggula, Re-Ye Shan, and Feng Huo Shan, and the giddy heights associated with these remote mountains.

The idea of retracing Princess Wenchen’s journey into Lhasa was another strong pull. Among other sweet dreams I had been nursing about Qinghai and Tibet was this strange one. I fancied myself as a pilgrim taking the arduous overland road and tolling my beads all the way into Lhasa. Never mind if I could not emulate pilgrims who prostrate and kneel, at least I would not be arriving on a jet plane. Was this the meaning of embracing hardship or what the Chinese call the spirit of “jian ku"?

What the 78 and over 70’s in our group were seeking I do not know. Perhaps they did feel “time’s winged chariot" drawing near but from the positive energy they generated no one was having a death wish! They were a tough old bunch, these oldies. Not unlike the mountains we were to traverse.

The Highway winds through high mountains and rugged terrain

The Qinghai-Tibetan Highway which leads into Lhasa is a paved road covering 1947km and is the highest highway in the world passing through mountain roads above 5000m with the highest pass at Tanggula at 5231m. A journey along this highway is truly one of those one in a life time trips.

QINGHAI

Overland to Tibet

Xining to Golmud by train.

Xining, the capital of Qinghai, stands at the modest elevation of 2295m and is one of the starting points of the overland road journey into Tibet. Here the Qinghai-Tibetan highway wends through high moutain roads above 5000 m and ends in Lhasa.

Apart from its famous Highway, Xining boasts many other scenic and historical landmarks.The Ta’er Monastery is arguably one of Xining’s most famous religious site. It is one of the six biggest monasteries of the Yellow Hat Sect branch of Tibetan Buddhism and the birthplace of Tsong Khapa(1357-1419) the founder of the Sect. Apart from being a repository for Tibetan culture and heritage the monastery also displayed an unusual blend of Chinese and Tibetan architecture, with Chinese upturned eaves sitting on Tibetan flat roofs. Stupas, prayer bells, tapestries, flags and murals all showcase the richness of Tibetan culture..

Ta'er Monastery, Xining

Elsewhere the sparsely populated Qinghai grasslands present a lovely folorness - goats, sheep,yak, donkeys,nomad's tents,herder's guts and camp fires appear as blobs on the vast plains.Tibetan prayer flags and cairns are also part of the lonely landscape.

Lofty and lovely - Qinghai Grasslands

The present day road from Xining to Qinghai Hu runs through the fabled Tangbo road, as it was known in the past. It is now a paved highway which is as redolent with history as with mountains. It has formed part of the Silk Road since the 3rd century BC., after the region came under Chinese control.

The most famous historical figure passing this way was Princess Wencheng of the Tang Dynasty. In the seventh century she was sent in a political marriage to King Songtsen Gampo of the Turbo Kingdom (Tibet). The marriage must have been a success as the Princess is much loved by both the Han Chinese as well as the Tibetans. Both groups have built shrines and memorials in her honour.

The Re-Yue Shan (Sun Moon Mountains) is a very important pass (at 3510m) and got its name when the grief stricken princess, discarded her Sun-Moon Mirror in a symbolic gesture indicating her severance with her homeland. A sympathetic river near by even changed its course to empathise with her plight, the Dao Xiang He (Back Flowing River) is said to be dedicated to her. A pavilion located on a hillock has been erected in her honour.

Princess Wencheng Memorial

The overcast sky, craggy terrain, and bleak horizon conspired to recreate history . It is indeed an eerie, mournful place filled with the ghosts of yesteryear.

Qinghai Hu also known as KoKo Nor Lake at 3239m is located 130km from Xining. It is the largest salt water lake in China and famed for its scenic lake views especially during rainy weather when the lake is shrouded in mist.

Qinghai Hu on a rainy evening

From Xining an overnight train runs to Golmud. The train journey passes through the salt marsh region of Qinghai. The Salt Lake and Salt Pond formed by the action of glaciers is the largest salt production site in China. Part of the rail track and Highway is built on a Salt Bridge.

Golmud is close to the borders of the Gobi desert and it is a dusty dreary place. Golmud at 2800m marks the start of the “Roof of the World" section of the Highway where all the Big Passes are located. It is also a stopping point for acclimatization to prepare travelers for the high altitude ahead.

OVERLAND TO LHASA

Day 1 : Golmud to Tuotuo He

The entire road journey to Lhasa is 1165km and takes 3 days. The first lap from Golmud to Tuotuo He the source of the Yangtse River is reputed to be the most difficult and yet our guide optimistically prepared us for an 8hr drive over 402km. The journey starts on a good tarmac highway with desert on both sides and brown mountains in the distance. Cables, wires and electric lines contrast with the gradually opening amphitheatre of rocks, granite and sand. The passing mountains alternate between changing shades of beige, olive and ochre. Although the Qinghai plateau is a desert there is no lack of water because of the many glaciers and spring and underground waters.

Passing through the famed Kunlun Mountains, it is a steep climb to the Kunlun Pass and on to Kunlun Qiao at 4000m, then on to Kunlun Quan which is a natural spring whose waters refreshed Princess Wencheng and her entourage on their epic journey to Lhasa or so the story goes.

Kunlun Qiao

In front of the Xue Shan Cafe, a designated lunch stop, the white tongue of the Meikuang Glacier protrudes down the Kunlun Mountain slopes. The weather is unpredictable and all the way up the pass, snow fall alternates with azure skies.

At the top of the mountain pass we are awed by endless vistas of snow fields and moorland, while Yuzhu Peak at 6177m sits like a crown on Kunlun Mountains. The Kunlun Pass 4700m, is marked by a broken plaque, the result of recent earthqukes. A snow lion and an eagle decorated with scarfs stand on either side of the plaque.

The Chinese marks high passes with pillars, statues and plaques. The Tibetan way is more artistic and spiritual. They decorate the passes with gossamer flags which hang in long strands from poles or tied together to form a pyramid like structure. These prayers flags have chants inscribed on them and wing their way heavenwards. Small cairns built with stones and rocks and some times laced with prayer flags and wild flowers are another Tibetan expression of reverence.

Prayer flags express the Tibetan faith

Leaving the Pass our trip literally started going downhill. It has been said of this Highway that if the mountains don’t kill you the traffic jams and road blocks would. The Qinghai Tibetan Highway at an average elevation of 4000m is under constant stress all year round from adverse weather conditions while wild fluctuations in temperature cause the road surface to crack up and break open. Whole stretches of the Highway maybe arbitrarily closed without prior warning for repair and resurfacing. Staring in our faces, as we descended was an epic high altitude traffic jam. The sight of the vehicles lined up bumper to bumper was enough to give us mountain sickness!

Epic traffic jam

All the vehicles including ours had the ignition off and from the stoic atmosphere all round it looked like everyone was prepared to camp overnight on the mountain. The guides tried every trick in the book to get us out of the jam. An eternity afterwards a policeman comes aboard to inspect us. It transpired that our guide had “bluffed" him that some of his passengers had taken ill and to give us special concession. Our wan faces must have convinced him because miraculously he agreed to let us move and was quite solicitous about our welfare! At the next road block we were not as lucky. We were not accorded VIP treatment and had to wait in line until the authorities allowed us to move. By then it was pitch dark.

The road blocks and jams had delayed us by many hours and we had hundreds more kilometers to cover before Tuotuo He. We were travelling on a rough road which felt like a dirt track. The coach raced along at breakneck pace and I did not know whether to be glad or alarmed by the darkness. The altitude was getting to our heads and hunger was gnawing at us. Instead of enjoying Qinghai’s endless plains, it felt more like enduring endless pain on an endless journey!

In this manner we must have climbed to the Feng Huo Shan Pass at 5100m in the dark! And we were to pass the source of Tuotuo He at 4530m in this manner too. We were too dumbstruck and shell shocked to complain that we had missed all the sights.

At 11.30 pm we finally pulled up at Tuotuo village, at 4650m, for dinner and at 12.30pm, after 18hrs on the road we reached our overnight hotel. The ‘hotel' which everyone afterwards referred to as the ‘Hei Dian' or Black Inn did not have electricity. The entrance was lit up with a gas lamp but the interior was plunged in ghostly shadows. Someone was passing candles around and in the confusion we were shunted into shack like rooms. I tottered to the common loo which by the light of a torch turned out to be a trench!

(Day 2 to be continued in next post)

OVERLAND TO LHASA

Day 2 Tuotuo He to Naqu

Barely had our heads touched the pillow when it was morning call at 5 am and we were on the road again. This stage would take us from Tuotuo He to Naqu over 433km in blank hours, no one dared hazard a guess. We were beginning to feel suicidal and fatalistic as the previous days pattern was replayed. The worst ordeal was when we were held up for 3 hours. Some of us then decided to convert our seats into daybeds by pulling out the centre aisle seat and settled down for a well earned snooze. Those of us who did not gain this privilege commented that the coach was taking on the appearance of an ambulance.

After all the jams and blocks and diversions, we were finally riding on the highest road in the world. With glaciers flanking both sides of the road we ascended the Tanggula Pass at 5231m which is the highest point in the Qinghai Tibet Highway. For a lowlander like me, 5231m was indeed a high point in my life. And now I felt that the hardship of traveling this road was well worth it. I couldn’t get over the wonder that I was higher than the peak of Europe’s Mt. Blanc or the Annurpurna base camp. “What is a mountain peak elsewhere in the world is but a highway in Tibet!" - is an appropriate tribute to the ingenuity of the Chinese road builders.

Tangula Pass at 5231m is the highest point in the Qinghai Tibet Highway

At this altitude harsh natural conditions are the order of the day. The average annual temperature is -8C with the lowest temperature reaching -40C. The oxygen content here accounts for only 50 percent of the volume at sea level hence the area is regarded as a “life-threatening zone" Even in August we donned down jackets and mittens when we stepped out into the thin air and bitter cold to experience the barren wilderness.

Tangula Wilderness

For obvious reasons, the pass is not a place to tarry and we descended swiftly following the highway until we leave Qinghai province behind and arrive at Tibet’s most northerly town Naqu. Naqu is the administrative headquarters of Northern Tibet and here in a symbolic gesture to mark our stepping on Tibetan soil, we were greeted with white scarves.

(Day 3 to be continued in next post)

OVERLAND TO LHASA

Day 3 Naqu to Lhasa

On our third and last day’s ride into Lhasa, the road improved and we covered 330km over 5hours. From Naqu onwards the bleak and desolate Qinghai plateau is replaced with pastoral scenes of sunny valleys and running streams. We start to catch glimpses of colour - valley floors golden with rapeseed wheat and maize, hill slopes dotted with clumps of mauve, pink and blue wild flowers and of course black yaks, white goats and wild ponies. Footbridges over streams are festooned with prayer flags, medieval Tibetan farmhouses with flat roofs and square cut windows are hung with bright strips of cloth, while electric wires compete with prayer flags which fly like ship’s mast from every Tibetan homestead. It gets to look more and more like God’s own country and it is not for nothing that Tibet is known as the Holy Land.

Where beauty walks in God's own country

Stopping by the Yangbajing Hot Springs we are an easy 91km away from Lhasa.

Yangbajing Hot SpringsAs we approached the Holy City we felt charged by energy from the sun. Lhasa is also known as the City of Sun with 3000 hours of sunlight annually and the intensity of the sun is like nowhere else on earth. Bathed in this radiance we follow the tree lined road until the golden roofs of the Potala Palace told us that we had arrived.

Potala Palace, the essence of dreams

Route Map

LHASA PART 1

POTALA PALACE

After successfully completing the Roof of the World Journey our group arrived without mishap in Lhasa, the capital of Tibet. Each one of us in the group of ten, must have, along the way, cherished some secret image or vision of Tibet. Medieval, wild, exotic, with mangy dogs, unkepmt citizens, levitating monks and other associations with the Forbidden Land ! Blame it on the early writers or media hype for colouring our minds with such strange notions or maybe blame ourselves for not keeping up-to-date. The Lhasa that we entered is a modern city with nothing remotely "forbidden" about it. Good paved roads, wide boulevards and concrete buildings with finish and polish is a more apt description.

Presto !

Lhasa in the 21st Century, seen from the 7th storey deck of the Potala Palace.

Despite the mobile phones, the internet connections and other signs of the hi-tech age, Lhasa still had a laid-back, other worldly feel about it. Traffic was sparse, monks in saffron robes are still chanting on rosaries, pilgrims still swing their hand held prayer wheels, and people of faith (count myself in) still dream of touching sanctity in Tibet. The imposing Potala Palace still dominates the landscape and the hearts of Tibetans and tourists alike. To this immortal building our group were headed on the day after our arrival.

Dominating the Lhasa skyline, the Potala Palace seen from Bakkor Square

The Potala Palace was first built at the time of Songtsan Gampo in the 7th century and extended in the 17th century by the 5th Dalai Lama. The present day complex consists of the Red and White Palace built on the Red Mountain at an elevation of 3,700m making it the world's highest palace. It is 13 stories high with 1000s of rooms, chambers, halls, and chapels. It is a stunning piece of architecture, combining stone and wooden Tibetan watchtowers and Han Chinese palace halls with traditional beams and pillars, golden roofs and sunk panels. Courtyards and winding corridors provide a maze of interlocking patterns and space. My impression has always been that Han Chinese and Tibetans are as different as chalk from cheese, but where monasteries and palaces are concerned they have a lot of similar points.

Front View of Potala, with well scrubbed, empty roads.

Unlike pilgrims of old, modern day tourists are driven up the back of the mountain to the midway level where a short climb leads to the entrance of the White Palace. When we arrived the bus bay was full and groups of foreigners, mostly Westerners and Japanese were milling around. Expectations ran high as we tripped up the wide stone steps in the shadows of the towering palace. I took out my rosary to simulate a mood but was as diverted by the well heeled, well equipped crowds as by the historic walk up the Potala. I saw shutterbugs, with cameras strapped around their necks, others had videodigitals in their palms, binoculars hooked to their belts, torches stuck to pockets (for lighting up the dark wall frescoes), recorders hanging from wrists (for recording the details related by guides), ... but who was I to comment? I was as wild as anyone. Everyone happily snapping away to store a memory because once we stepped through the gates of the Potala there would be no more picture taking until we reached the roof. They say that the Potala is a Center for high energy and it was no wonder that we were feeling so light headed.

Just before stepping through the portals, our guide kindly reminded us to remove out hats, put away cameras and to behave in a sensitive and appropriate manner. I think he meant to say "do not ask questions on sensitive issues."

Modern day tourists trekking up to the White Palace, Potala.

Inside, wending through numerous chapels filled with stautes, shrines, tombs and stupas dedicated to various Dalai Lamas, we met with swelling queues and jostling crowds reminiscent of standing in line to view the crown jewels in the Tower of London. The religious art treasures, tangka paintings, historical relics and wall fresoes depicting events and legends are a testimony not only to the faith of Tibetans but also the high quality of Tibetan art in the 7th century and again, in the 15th-16th centuries, when the palaces were rebuilt. Although mostly a museum, the dimly-lit, high ceiling, ceremonial halls of the Potala still commanded a sense of its past glory and spirit. Besides demonstrating cultural interchange with the Han Chinese these art treasures also demonstrated a culture which is in no way inferior to the Han Chinese.

Western media have often harped on the persecution of Tibetans by the Han Chinese but I got this gut feeling, walking through these hallowed halls that there must have been a time when both races were close as brothers, otherwise how to explain such a natural intertwining of art and customs, from sutras and scriptures, to garments, silk brocades, curtains, and canopies. Etched on the wall frescoes are also records of social events between Chinese emperors and Dalai Lamas. Hmmmm ...., perhaps I like to believe it, but maybe there was even mutual admiration on both sides !

The Tibetan pilgrims among the crowd carried bags of yak butter which they spooned out to dab on to the candle bowls of shrines as they counted their rosary beads. They also donated money in the offerings bowl and following their example we also placed our money in the heaps. We learnt that the deities could also act as "bankers" for when we ran out of small change, which was pretty soon, we could put our ten yuan offering in the bowl and take back hundreds of fen, and then continue our round of offerings .... !

Upon reaching the Roof of the Potala which is an open area, shutterbugs were finally allowed free rein. It was quite a carnival atmosphere up there with tourists jostling for space for that memorable picture.

Carnival crowds

Tourists jostling for space on Potola roof

NORBULINGKA

From the Red and White Palace of the Potala we proceeded to the Summer Palace, or Norbulingka. Located, 3km West of Potala, it was constructed in the 18th century as the summer resort of the Dalai Lama. As its name implies, it is somewhat of a leisure park, made up of palaces surrounded by gardens, pavilions, lakes and ponds with picturesque overhanging treees.

Our visit coincided with the Xue Dun (Fermented Milk)Festival which had its roots in the Buddhist practice of religious "cultivation" in the mountains. After the period of cultivation, these folks would be welcomed back by their families with fermented milk together with singing and dancing. These celebrations have evolved into the Xue Dun Festival and now every year Tibetan opera troupes perform in the Norbulingka attracting Tibetans from all over Tibet and Qinghai.

Opera Troupes enacting plays and dances to a captive Tibetan audience.

Strolling through the sprawling grounds we caught a glimpse of how Tibetans enjoyed themselves at the Festival, music making, guitar strumming, playing cards and mahjong, picnicking and praying on their ever spinning wheels.

Xue Dun Festival at Norbulingka

LHASA PART 2

DEPRUNG MONASTERY

Deprung Monastery, a spiritual haven.

Early next morning we visited Deprung Monastery which lies a few kilometers out of Lhasa. Its name means "rice heaps" refering to the series of white buildings resting against the olive mountains, which make up the Monastery. We followed the pilgrims path, past a row of big brass prayer wheels which we spinned to gain merit. Next the colourful Buddha on the Cliff blessed us, then we ran into beggars sitting on the steps and we gained more merit by dipping some yuan into their bowls. The beggars are not greedy, if your notes are too big, they are quite happy to return you some change !

Spinning the Prayer Bells help us to gain Merit.

Blessings from the Buddhas on the Cliff.

Deprung is a monastic university providing religious education to monks from age 8 to up to 70 in some cases. In its heyday it held more than 7000 monks within its walls. I don't know what the current official count is, but red robed lamas are encountered everywhere and it is still very much a spiritual haven. In one of the chapels Tibetans were receiving blessings by having their heads tapped by a lama. We quickly offered our heads for tapping too and he good naturedly obliged ! Elsewhere monks were making religious artefacts for sale, studying scriptures and I also spied them engaged in lively debates demonstrating the hand clapping gestures.

By midday, our group arrived at the main prayer hall just in time for the midday service. The beautiful sound of tolling bells greeted us, as monks in maroon robes flocked from all corners of the monastery to assemble in the hall. To sit in that ancient hall, high up in mountains, listening to haunting mantras chanted by hundreds of monks, was an extraordinary experience. I wished I could have stayed, but all too soon our guide was giving us the signal to move on.

Here I try my hand at haiku  to recollect memories of Deprung:

Deprung Monastery -

temple bells reverberate on cold crags

all around

Main Prayer Hall at Deprung call us to Prayer

Deprung lamas in their cloisters.

JOKHANG TEMPLE

Our next stop brought us to the Jokang Temple located in the old parts of downtown Lhasa. As the spirtual heart of Lhasa, the Jokang Temple is the most vennerated and revered shrine in the whole of Tibet. First built in the 7h century the three storey building with an open roof, has undergone extensive rennovations particularly under the 5th Dalai Lama in the 17th century. Its open roof gives a bird's eye view of the Potala Palace overlooking the old city. On the roof too are a series of gold bells, dharma wheels and other symbolic articles.

Courtyard, Jokang Temple, Lhasa.

In the past, Tibetan Buddhists make ardous trips over high mountains and passes, braving innumerable dangers to make the pilgimage to this Holy of Holies, which holds the golden statute of Buddha Sakyamuni. This statute located in the main hall of the Jokang Temple was first brought from Changan in China, by Princess Wencheng in the Tang dynasty. Drawn as if by a magnet, these pilgrims who come from afar, circumambulate three pilgrimage circuits, the Lingkhor, the Barkhor and the Nangkhor that surround the Jokang Temple, some prostrating all the way, some walking and spinning prayer wheels and chanting mantras while counting their rosary beads. The fervour and faith generated by these pilgrims, was said to cast a powerful field of sanctity over the Jokang.

Present day Jokang Temple sits within a plaza like area with many shopping streets enclosing as well as leading off the temple complex. Except for a small clutch of prostrating pilgrims around the entrance of the temple, and a few walking the pilgrim's circuits, I did not see much fervour. Perhaps it had to do with the timing. It was mid afternoon and the temple doors were shut so this might have limited the religious activity. We had to use a side entrance to enter and inside tourists outnumbered the pilgrims. We followed the usual round of chapels, statutes, niches, deities, commemorations, and frescoes as our guide babbled the various historical details.

After praying in the Jokang, we went to people-watch on Barkhor Street plaza which is next to the temple. The melee of Tibetans, Han Chinese, Nepalese, tourists, monks, pilgrims, families out with kids, the elderly praying, the young licking on their iced lollies, each person doing his own thing, was not unlike a scene on our busier HDB squares backhome. Further off there was a maze of vendors, shops, hawkers and wares to gladden any shopaholic's heart.

Before I came to Tibet, I had read about the atrocities committed by the Chinese. Were the Tibetans sitting so placidly beside me seething with suppressed hostility, I wondered? Were there hidden electronic surveillance cameras watching the crowds on the square? Did it make them subdued? I can't fathom the political or tumultous events that these people had suffered in the past, but they do seem to have settled down to some hard won peace. Whether it was a massive sham or not, I sure wish my Tibetan and Han Chinese friends many more decades of blessed peace.

Butter lamps keep the faith burning bright at Jokang

Scenes of pilgrims and tourists around the Barkhor Square

ROAD TO GYANTSE

Leaving Lhasa behind we were headed for the town of Gyantse, some 260kms away. The ride has got to be the most dramatic of all, as we would cross 3 Big Passes, take in a Holy Lake, a Crystal Glacier and an artificial lake all in one day, stretching over 9 hours. We started off on a gravelled road driving through harsh, denuded mountains. The dusty road wound through deep valleys and squeezed up cliff hugging paths as the unending vista of granite mountains, cyan skies and turquoise waters swept us along.

I had read about rock-throwing urchins posing a menance on these roads and I was on a lookout. Now and then we did see children running down the rocky slopes but none aimed any unfriendly shots at us. Instead they looked overjoyed just to wave at our passing bus while we waved just as delightedly back. Although we would dearly liked to have stopped many times along the way to capture the wild scenery our guide would not allow us many stops onroute except for the designated spots. At one of the rare unscheduled stops for a member to answer his call, two little girls appeared as if from nowhere to gaze at us. These two were so shy it was hard work to persuade them even to come near and these 2 tendermites were certainly not out to harm us.

The dust which crept in through the slits and crevices of the tightly shut windows was unbearable. On the bad stretches the bus rattled and shuddered until we were all broken up. At every super Bump I was tossed up and down and our overhead luggage was in constant danger of crashing down. And yet the beauty of the place is inexpressable ! Far below us the valleys appeared tranquil as in a dream -- golden with rapeseed and crisscrossed by ribbons of blue water. On the distant brown slopes, like a picture out of Biblical times, nomads in homespun clothes lead their flock. When the road descended to river level we were plunged straight into the valley we dream-watched, high up in the precipices. The driver absolutely refused to stop for us to capture all these brilliant moments, perhaps the road was really very dangerous.....and so willy nilly, through Paradise or through Hell we finally arrived at our destination, Gyantse, altitude 3,800m.

ENROUTE PICTURES

Just out of Lhasa we are greeted by this 1000 Year Old Cliffside Buddha meditating beside the Lhasa river and wishing us "Safe Journey"

The wild and dusty road to Gyantse

The first pass of the day is Gangbala Pass altitude 4852m

Lake Yumdrok Tso viewed from the top of Gangbala. Also known as Turquoise Lake it is one of Tibet's holiest lakes. The altitude and brilliant sunlight makes the waters shimmer in changing shades.

Another view of Gangbala with prayer flags and woolly yak.

Olive mountains, turquoise waters -- Lake Yumdrok Tso

Holy flock by the holy lake

Karola Glacier altitude 5045m. We also call it Crystal Mountain because of the many crystals available for sale and many strewn on the grounds

Karola Glacier. Although it was sunny on Gangbala and Lake Yumdrok, by the time we arrived at Karola, it was dark and chilly giving us another picture of the mountains.

Karola Glacier. Nice place for a picnic with the benches provided. But our guide thought otherwise. He already had our lunch booked at the designated eating house

Simila Pass altitude 4330m, our last Pass for the day. Thousands of white scarves decorate the Pass to thank the gods for safe journey

 
Another Holy Lake? No this is a beautiful body of water created by damming a nearby river.

Gyantse Town with Gyantse Fort and Little Wall of China in background. The fortifications withstood British aggressors in 1904.

Another view of the wall that defeated the British invaders.

The Kumbum Stupa, Gyantse’s landmark is the finest example of 15th century Newar art extant in the world. Sometimes known as the Wedding Cake because of its multi tiers it is actually symbolic of the various levels of Enlightenment in Buddhist Teachings.