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Tibet



Shigatse (see on map)

17/08/2009:
Tibet,+yamdrok+lake Tibet,+yamdrok+lake Tibet,+yaks+in+frond+of+yamdrok+lake Tibet,+old+tibetan+selling+chesse Tibet,+praying+flags+in+Karo-la+pass Tibet,+plains+close+to+Karo-la+pass
Tibet,+artifitial+lake+close+to+Gyantse Tibet,+Gyantse,+Pelkor+Chode+monastery Tibet,+Gyantse,+Pelkor+Chode+monastery,+Kumbum Tibet,+Gyantse,+Pelkor+Chode+monastery,+buddha+inside+Kumbum Tibet,+Gyantse,+praying+flags Tibet,+Gyantse,+Pelkor+Chode+monastery
Tibet,+family+in+water+mill Tibet,+Shigatse,+Kora+way+arround+Tashihulpo+monastery Tibet,+Shigatse,+Kora+way+arround+Tashihulpo+monastery Tibet,+Shigatse,+Kora+way+arround+Tashihulpo+monastery Tibet,+Shigatse,+view+from+mountain Tibet,+Shigatse,+praying+flags+in+top+of+mountain Tibet,+Shigatse,+praying+flags+in+top+of+mountain
Tibet,+Shigatse,+playing+billar Tibet,+Shigatse+market     


On Saturday we got out well early from Lhasa, with a 4x4 that should take us up to the border of Nepal in six days. Anyway, the first stop we did was very soon, in the monastery of Deprung, on the outskirts of Lhasa, another monastery similar to Sera, but that got to have the greatest quantity of monks of the Tibetan Buddhism: 10.000 before the invasion China in 1951, remaining at present only 800. The greatness of the monastery and the great quantity of small chapels and labyrinthine temples, required a calm visit, that's why I already started to become annoyed when the guide showed signs of displeasure when I stayed behind while he was advancing with Alexandra. After half an hour of thrilling visit, Tom called on my mobile telephone to ask me where i was and to press me of being faster. I screamed at him that I don’t want him to call me and that he lets me visit the monastery calmly. But after another hour he made Alexandra call so that he told me that there was a limitation of time in the visit. This lie annoyed me enormously and when I finished the visit (some parts of temple i had to leave behind) I was determined to ask for a change of attitude from the guide(or of trying to change the guide). Yuri,was annoyed with him for the visit of the Potala was also ready to change him, and Alexandra not so much, for she was annoyed with me because I had screamed to her on the phone when i should have screamed to him. So, well turned on by having a guide that did not let me to enjoy Tibet enough, i directed myself to him (he was eating in a restaurant with the driver) and I started to say that i was very annoyed with him, but before i could say more, he got up and told to me that he also was very annoyed with me, and that he did not want to be our guide if we did not abide by his demands. In that moment I turned and without saying anything else, i sat under the shadow of a tree, completely annoyed and I called the agency of Xining explaining that it was impossible to continue with the same guide and that if we kept being with him six more days, some very severe problem could happen to them. The Agency of Xining told me that they would talk with the agency of Lhasa and that they would call me again; their efficiency surprised me, because after 20 minutes I received a call from Xining telling us that we could turn back to Lhasa where was waiting for us a new guide. Tom did not say anything, when the manager introduced the new introverted guide, they commented: "This is the new leader, examine him". But after proving that he talked better English than Tom I commented, "it is not necessary to examine him, by the face it is already seen that the person is good and that we will not have problems with him".
The new leader was called Toto (in fact he had another Tibetan name, but this was easier to remember), and later, during the journey in the mountains to the outskirts of Lhasa, he told us that he was 30 years old and that since the age of 8 till 24 he had been living in a Tibetan monastery, having no relatives nor family. Without explaining why he gave up the life of monk, he explained to us that at present he is a professor of Tibetan, because there are many people in Tibet who do not know how to read or to write their language, and because many schools of Tibet do not teach this language either. On the other hand, even if Toto is not married, he seems that this is one of his goals, because during all the journey he did not stop flirting with all the girls of the restaurants and hotels.
One of the first signs that convinced us of the good success when changing guide, was when we arrive to the collar of Kamba-(4794 m), from where the lake of Yamdrok-tso could be observed, he commented: "If we stop here they will charge you 4 € for person, it is better to stop further on". We cheered up for this proposal, for in the morning, the previous guide, Tom, had insisted that we should pay 4 € to observe the lake of Yamdrok. In any case, the guide asked the driver to stop after half a kilometre, where we could go out to make photos and to admire the incredible turquoise of the waters of the lake. The lake of Yamdrok is one of the four sacred lakes of Tibet, where vindictive deities live, although these do not seem to still have taken revenge on the Chinese, which have had the boldness of perforating the mountain to steal water to generate electricity (the biggest headquarters of Tibet).
After stopping different times to take photos of different perspectives of the photogenic lake, the road started to go up to the collar of Karo- (5045 m), where we got out to take photos of a huge glacier from where there were born crowds of cascades that were reviving the valley. And finally, after crossing a big plain of more than 4000 m in altitude and an artificial lake, we arrived to the city of Gyantse, dominated by a former fortress or dzong located on a rocky hill. In any case, the main attraction of Gyantse, which we visited the following day, is the monastery of Pelkor Chode, with a big room of assemblies, around which there were numerous chapels richly adorned with paints, statues and libraries. And much more incredible it was still the building on the side named Kumbum, of circular structure and of six levels that were becoming smaller with the height, which had in its interior up to 70 chapels, each adorned with different statues representing a minimum part of the infinity of gods and Buddha’s of the Tibetan religion. When finishing the visit, our guide Toto suggested us to start to do path towards Shigatse, where we could extend our visa, in spite of all, we managed to pull half an hour of spare time that we dedicated to the old Tibetan neighbourhood next to the monastery, with a main street with the cows staked in the doorways, and some houses with plane roofs where they waved prayers of colours and where piled up slabs of shit of cow that they must act as fuel in the winter. Later, Toto explained to me that the flat roofs of the Tibetan homes are isolated from the water of the rain thanks to the use of ash in their construction.
Before reaching Shigatse, Toto made the driver stop in a water mill that had an unknown grain, and we later stopped in a muddy village, where there was the monastery of Shalu, famous for the mythical flying monks. But instead of that we are with a monastery in works that we could not visit, although instead of that, we were invited to take tea, a tea with milk much greasier than the previous ones taken (in Tibet it is typical to put grease of Yak in the tea), by some very nice monks.
The midday passed we reached Shigatse, the second biggest city of Tibet, that contains the big monastery of Tashihulpo, with many buildings of Chinese style, which lodged the Pachen Lama, the second Lama in importance (after the Dalai Lama) and traditionally well related to the Chinese government. Being Sunday and impossible to extend our visas, we had the free afternoon, that I dedicated to walk the Kora that gave all the turn to the monastery through the mountain, a path full of grinders of prayers, fanions and skulls of Yak recorded with prayers. In spite of the rain that threatened at all times, the road was circulated clockwise by different Tibetan pilgrims that recited their prayers and turned the small round prayers.
While i walked the Kora, I thought that it is curious that during the Chinese cultural revolution crowd of temples and monasteries in Tibet were destroyed and, the Chinese government is however since some years ago reconstructing many of the destructions, leaving them as if they had never suffered any damage, to promote the tourism. For example, in Shigatse, the Chinese have just reconstructed a palace or dzong that had remained popular in ruins during the revolt of 1959, the same year of the escape to India of the 14th Dalai Lama, nine years after "the release" of Tibet in the hands of the Chinese army. Our guide appeared a little sceptical or burlesque with the new building, qualifying it as Chinese and not mentioning its past as dzong. Anyway, the reconstruction of temples and monasteries was not initiated to favour the tourism, after the death of Mao and of the Chinese cultural revolution (which deplored any religious demonstration), the Chinese government realised, for to have the people happy it had to provide the "opium", that they could not keep suppressing the religion. So, since the eighties, many monasteries re-opened, many religious artefacts were returned from China and many others were built again to make up for the destroyed ones. And in a certain way, it has been this fast reconstruction, the one that allows us visiting Tibet as if nothing bad had happened, although the scars must still be present behind the re-painted walls.
Today in the morning, Alexandra was well nervous, for she feared that they could not extend the visa for lack of pages, anyway, our guide Toto was very insistent and persuasive with the police, and towards noon he commented us smiling that they would extend the visa to both of us, in the case of Alexandra using her new passport. Anyway, we have to wait till the afternoon to collect the passport and inevitably to spend another night in Shigatse. On the other hand, until today, our Japanese colleague of journey had not spoken almost anything on her life, and has not been until she has shown her passport to the police that we have realised that she was an authentic traveller who had visited many countries, opening opportunities for new conversations.
While we expected them to extend the visa for us, I have decided to go up to the summit of a mountain behind the temple of Tashihulpo where they waved many colourful flags of prayers. Good, in fact, once I have finished the costly ascent, I have surprised myself of the tons of fanions that there were waving and that were piled up to the ground forming comfortable mattresses. In fact, I have had a great luck that there were fanions everywhere, because half the way down a very urgent necessity has com and as i finished I have been able to clean my bottom with a couple of prayers. I have probably committed the most heretic heresy, in any case the Tibetan Buddhists could also be happy that their fanions have a practical application, apart from the spiritual undemonstrable one.




Nepal Border (see on map)

20/08/2009:
Tibet,+small+town+in+country+side Tibet,+Sakya Tibet,+Sakya,+family+in+frond+of+monastery+in+mountain Tibet,+Sakya,+inside+female+monastery Tibet,+Sakya,+old+man+in+frond+of+monastery+in+mountain Tibet,+Sakya,+praying+flags
Tibet,+Sakya,+tibetan+nomads+inside+tend Tibet,+Tingri,+tibetan+girl Tibet,+Tingri,+himalaya+view+(everest+on+left) Tibet,+Tingri,+himalaya+view+(everest+on+left)+and+us
Tibet,+Tingri,+tibetan+boy Tibet,+Tingri,+himalaya+view Tibet,+Tingri,+himalaya+view Tibet,+workers+in+La+Lung-la+pass Tibet,+way+to+Nepal Tibet,+way+to+Nepal
Tibet,+way+to+Nepal,+waterfall      


Having extended our visa and happy to be able to enjoy three more days in Tibet, on Tuesday in the morning we left Shigatse, going through a big valley towards the pass of Tropu-(4950 m) and stopping later in the small people of Sakya, which preserved the purest Tibetan soul of all the visited villages. Sectioned from the main road and settled in a fertile valley, Sakya had an extraordinary monastery surrounded by some very high and long walls of square structure. In any case, we left of side the monastery of Sakya to visit the old Tibetan neighbourhood on the other side of the river that, with the houses painted in black and with occasional red strips and white verticals, a small monastery of red colour was raises, some stupas in white and the ruins of another big monastery were rising on a dusty pending. Walking through the wild mountain to a medium-sized monastery that was observed to the right, we passed different Tibetans, the majority with the face very red, like us, due to the little protection of the atmosphere against the solar light. On the other hand, the Tibetan women in general wear a big thread of wool or silk rolled up around the head, dressing with dark colours and an apron or mantle of colourful strips in front.
Right before arriving to the medium monastery of the mountain, we ran into a family that nicely offered us to sit with them despite not speaking a word in a common language. Afterwards, they followed the pilgrimage towards the monastery, while the man suggested to me to follow him. The man made me to turn round the monastery in the direction of the needles of the clock, while i imitated his rituals, rubbing different parts of the body in different stones. When finishing the tour, I found Alexandra at the entry of the monastery, and she warned me that the monastery was of women and that it refrained from making photos. I followed the man in the monastery, who kept pouring grease of Yak in the torches and leaving some notes of 0,1Y in some statues, while he did cute comments to the nuns, who laughed timidly. Afterwards, a nun made me sit by her side, while the man exclaimed alarmed that I got up immediately. But the nuns, young girls with the shaved head and covered with red tunics, told him that there was not any problem. Then, while I remained alone with them, they tried to give me conversation, although the language did not help much. Finally they suggested to me making them photos, while they sang and touched different instruments, and I said goodbye to them and they wrote the telephone of the monastery to me on a paper.
In Sakya we pass the night in a room of hotel for pilgrims, with very dirty sheets, that besides it did not have shower (incredibly, no hotel of the following three days had showers) and had some terrible toilets (similar to all China, but worse). The day after, despite having slept 8 hours I woke up more exhausted than the previous days, even so we got on the road towards Tingri. On the way we stopped in the collar of Gyatso- (5220 m) where it did so much cold, that immediately we convinced ourselves of the good decision of not going to Mount Everest Base Camp (of the same altitude). In fact, it did days that we had taken the decision of not going, saving ourselves to pay 40 € for person, a price that did not offer accountability of being able to observe the Everest (July and August are the rainiest months in Tibet) to a distance of 30 km (inexplicably, the base camp is not found in the base of the Everest, but at about 25 km of its base).
During the stop in the collar of Gyatso- I could not avoid the cold penetrating me till the bones and during the path up to Tingri i noticed how my body shook while the fever kept rising. Right before entering in the village of Tingri we could observe the spectacular range of the Himalaya deep down, with the Everest raising to the left. So pretty was the scene that I proposed of curing myself the same day, and after passing three hours sweating in the bed of the hotel and taking a paracetamol, I woke up with sufficient energies to go with Alex up to the hill behind the village of Tingri to observe again the succession of snow topped mountains , the highest in the world. And in front of these mountains it did not stop surprising the immense plain that was extended for hundreds of kilometres in all directions at an altitude of 4500 meters.
The day after, observing again in the morning the fantastic sight of the Himalaya, we have started to do path towards the border with Nepal, always flanked by cables of electricity or telephone parallel to the road, which normally spoiled the best photos. On the other hand, as we approached Nepal and we crossed the collars of La Lung- (5124 m) and Tong- (5120 m) we started to observe many ruins, of some old Nepalese invasions of the 1788 and 1891, that were repelled by a Chinese army assisted by Tibetan troops. In any case, lowering through the valley of the river Sun Kosi was difficult to imagine how the Nepalese army could raise the deep and abrupt valley, for this was too narrow. The green valley concealed by fog and clouds offered a landscape completely different to the rest of Tibet, but not less spectacular. On the other hand, I also found it strange that the border was situated in the middle of the valley, without any geographical signs of importance, apart from a small cascade offering a dividing line. On the border there were some villages without any type of appeal, where we had to spend the night, since we arrived late due to some works in the road. It was our last night in Tibet filled by the pretty memories of this country, even though our look had the sight put on Nepal, on our car and in the turn towards Europe.





Nepal

Kathmandu (see on map)

29/08/2009:
Nepal,+going+out+of+Kathmandu


We woke up early, but the majority of tourists were already awake and on the border between China and Nepal we had to wait more than three hours, first that they opened the border and that afterwards the Chinese policemen diligently opened absolutely all the backpacks and suitcases of the foreign tourists and leafing through all their books in search of illegal material (for example, photographs of the Dalai Lama). After the formalities in the tidy Chinese building, we went to the Nepalese hut, where after taking the passports sealed they also took our temperature with the thermometers to legalise our presence.
We had been informed that the road from the border to Kathmandu, despite having less than 200 kilometres, is in quite bad condition and that the journey in bus could last about 8 hours. Anyway, the problem that we found was the absence of buses or of information on these. For luck, little after asking about the bus to Kathmandu, we found a group of Israelis (some of them of Romanian origin), that they let us share their private bus. Without thinking that now we could be the target of some Islamic radical attack, we shared the nice journey conversing on politics and travels. In spite of everything, and although nice, the journey was very long, at the beginning because of the terrible state of the road, without signs of being improving in the future; and afterwards for the impatience of the drivers of other lorries, cars and buses that generated numerous jams before entering the city and once inside.
This arrival to Kathmandu made us realise that Nepal has not changed at all, with the same chaos of people, motorcycles and cars, the same problems of traffic and the same roads in works (as if the workers had been 5 months in strike), strolling everywhere. On the other hand, as we arrived to the hotel where we had been accommodated the previous time, also we found that there was no electricity (it was just a small power cut). What seemed to be a little different, was the minor presence of tourists in comparison to the previous times, basically because it was the period of the monsoon (it was raining almost every day). In any case, that did not deprive us of listening in the hotel and in the street to many Spanish, typical of our region, where all the people take holidays in August.
We had arrived to Kathmandu a Friday at night, and in the face of the impossibility of being able to go to collect our autocaravan during the weekend, we decided to go to Thamel (the touristic neighbourhood) asking for the best prices of different products with the intention of reselling once arrived back to Europe. Anyway, on Monday we could go to collect the autocaravan, which was found in the same state that we left it, although with more dust. From the workshop, we drove among the terrible traffic, up to the camping area near Thamel, where we had parked previous times and where we prepared ourselves to pass a busy week shopping different kgs of clothes and some hundreds of grams in jewellery http://www.globetour.org/products.
Apart from doing all the desired purchases, at the beginning of the week I also managed to get in touch with the friend of our friends, who had already become our friend, Jay. We met with him and his family a Wednesday in the afternoon, surprising us by the change of his three children during the five past months: Maria of five years had become more timid although she already spoke English, Asmita followed just as naughty but she was also passing different minutes drawing Nepalese characters in a notebook for the school, and David already started to walk crying at the smallest things if he did not have everything as he wanted. Knowing the Nepalese tradition, we bought two beers (1,5 € each), although also Jay had bought two, to accompany one delicious dinner that Jay cooked (one of the most delicious foods in weeks). While we dined, Jay explained us worried that he did not have any trekking hired for September (when it starts the touristic season), that's why he was looking for another agency for which to work. Anyway, also there was a sort of introduction to the idea about going to work in Europe or maybe Dubai, to be able to keep paying the education and maintenance of his children, starting to ponder for the future, for when he could not work anymore. In any case, we cheered him up at the evening party with three big bags full of gifts, basically things that we had not used during the journey or that we would not use again, other useless utensils that were occupying a valuable space where we intend now to put all the products that we are buying.





India

Delhi (see on map)

03/09/2009:
India,+fallen+bridge+close+to+border India,+mountains+arround+Champawa India,+mountains+arround+Champawa India,+mountains+arround+Champawa India,+mountains+arround+Champawa India,+mountains+arround+Champawa
India,+mountains+arround+Champawa India,+mountains+arround+Champawa India,+mountains+arround+Champawa India,+mountains+arround+Champawa India,+mountains+arround+Champawa  


After filling the caravan with different bags of products and saying goodbye to Jay on Sunday well early in the morning we started to drive towards the outskirts of Kathmandu towards Delhi. We had fear to pass through the mountain pass close to Kathmandu, where months behind i had lost my driving licence because of some corrupt policemen . In spite of everything we passed trouble free, although we could not avoid the first retentions a hundred meters further on. Observing the long queue of lorries and buses that wound the mountain, we thought that we had run into a strike, but in the end there were different broken lorries that did not let the traffic circulate correctly. However, a few kilometres more down yes that we found the first strike or protest, with about 10 or 20 farmers that had a long queue of lorries and stopped cars to protest for the low price that the government had fixed for the purchase of the milk.
After doing about 100 km in 5 hours, our stretch towards the border of India through the good road of the south of Nepal passed trouble free, although in another point, some boys had the road blocked with a ribbon asking for money to help their God. They did not comment why their God needed money, but we refused to help him arguing that we were Christian (I did not dare to mention that i was atheist) and they in the end let us pass. On the other hand, during all the stretch, we could not avoid going to all the places where we had stopped five months behind remembering moments of tension: where we had crossed with thousands of demonstrators, where we had found barricades, where we had had to put aside trees that were cut in the middle of the road, where we passed burned cars...
On the third day we arrived in the morning in the border of Nepal with India, which we cross trouble free in company of a Catalan and a Valencian. On the other side, observing the panorama, Alexandra was set off with laughter with my joke of calling India as the country of the abundance (abundance of chaos, of people, of cows, of tricycles, of bicycles...). Ah! I forgot to add that India is also the country of the abundance of fallen bridges. In many points of the journey we had had to divert through the dry beds of rivers, but at ten kilometres of the border there was a fallen bridge and the water of the river was too much strong so that we could cross it. In fact, there were different lorries that were trying it and two of them had gotten stuck. For luck, some boys commented us that there was an alternative routing, but after circulating about ten kilometres for very narrow paths,we had the bad luck of finding a bridge with a limit of height, about 30 centimetres lower that our autocaravan. Next to the bridge there was another crossing inside the river, but when entering with the trousers up i confirmed that the water arrived to the knees and that it would be impossible to pass without drowning the engine. Without possibility to continue towards Delhi through the pre-established road, we open the map and, helped by a group of policemen, we decide of wasting a day, although in fact it made us enjoy two extra days, doing a great turn through the mountains that according to the policemen it would take us to Delhi.
At the beginning we are frightened, because the path that threaded the mountains was not asphalted and in very bad state, although the sight on the plain was spectacular. In any case, once the first ascension passed the path improved significantly, continuing in the same way of narrow but asphalted almost at all times. The freshness of the mountain and the spectacular landscapes immediately cheered up Alexandra, who instead of maintaining pessimist by the turn that we were doing, asked me of passing some days more in the mountains to relax. But instead of that we kept circulating very calmly, crossing different valleys; crossing pine woods; going straight up the mountain, with countless terraces of wheat, rice and other cereals; admiring the homes painted in white and others of stone, some they had the roof of stone; greeting the shy inhabitants who appeared very curious with our presence... Passed two days through the mountains, we finally arrive to the people of Nanital, a former mountain station of the Englishmen, with no appeal in comparison to the previous villages. And from here we started to find again the chaos of India, which followed up to Delhi.
Before entering Delhi, we have had another vision of a mountain, a total antithesis to the previous landscapes, in the middle of the heat and a terrible traffic. Warned by a terrible stench (fortunately my allergy has prevented me to smell it), Alexandra has indicated me next to the road, at about two or three kilometres, a big mountain of rubbish maybe of a kilometre of diameter and about a hundred meters of height, that continuously was threaded by lorries full of more rubbish; and at the top of the mountain seemed to see tens of figures searching the new waste. It has been a horrible vision, but much more when imagining the future of this mountain, which (if continuing with the same rhythm) would soon be visible from all the city (and probably also smelt). Where is the consumerism directing us? Or the overpopulation? Or the capitalism? Or the cause being responsible for that?



11/09/2009:
We have passed a week in Delhi, basically buying different bags of products that we think to resell in Europe (http://www.globetour.org/products), but also visiting the embassy of Iran in order to obtain the visa. Anyway, they informed us about being able to give us a visa of 7 days after obtaining a letter of recommendation from our respective embassies. Although, they also informed us about being able to obtain the same days from Pakistan without needing the mentioned letters. So, we have left the visa we needed, betting all the cards with Pakistan, towards where we were going after the week of shopping.
Yesterday in the night, last night before crossing the border, we slept in a gas station. While i was working with the computer, a drunk man knocked twice the door asking me to join them, a group of Indians that drank beer in front of the autocaravan. Not to have problems and at the same time to maintain being nice I said that i would go out in five minutes and like this I did. I was very surprised that as soon as we had beenpresented, they opened me a beer, something quite unusual in India, where the hospitality is not a too known concept. The man that invited me was a farmer that had 8 tractors and with him there was the owner of the gas station, that parallelly had a fleet of lorries. I asked them what transported in the lorries, and when they understood the question, answered me that basically beer and whiskey from a close distillery. It was not strange then, that while the beer was being finished they offered me to send their driver to look for more beer, something that I rejected. Anyway, in exchange for the beer and the good company, I saw myself obliged to repeat different times that India is one of the best countries in the world, that was much better than Pakistan, that all the Muslims are bad and that the province of Punjab is the best of India. Finally they explained to me that the Punjab is a province formed mostly by Siks, where many of them have the head covered with a turban. In any case, few turbans i had been observing through the path, because all the day it had been been raining and all the siks had the turban covered up with a plastic bag or with a special bag, while they had the rest of the body and clothes getting wet under the rain.
Finally we have today arrived to the border between India and Pakistan, where there were many lorries unloading boxes from one side towards the other one. None of the two governments let pass vehicles to the other side of the border, anyway, if they allowed it, many lorries of the adjacent country would probably be burned. In any case, for us, that we remain moved away from the conflict of both countries, was not so simple either of crossing over, especially for the zeal shown by the Indian policemen in front of all the bags in the autocaravan. At the beginning one of them expressed: "you will have to take all the bags out". Alexandra started to sweat while I answered: "we will be doing this a whole day...". Anyway, in the end they were convinced to inspect the car only inside and left us to cross towards Pakistan, where the formalities were much faster.



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