Tibet – 60 years after the Chinese invasion

Yak eyeballs, shots of beer, and scenery that'll literally take your breath away

“Tear out any pictures of Buddhist monks” said our guide. “The Chinese border police will search all your books.” As I ripped the front cover off my Lonely Planet guide to Tibet I wondered what I had let myself in for.

Having been in Nepal for three weeks, I’d trekked to Everest Base Camp, ridden elephants in the jungle at Chitwan and was looking for something different, unusual and hard to get to. So I stumbled upon a tour from Kathmandu to Lhasa, Tibet, and booked myself a place.

Tibet has always been an enigma to foreigners. Having locked and barred its borders on and off until the 1980s, the place, its people and culture were hidden in a cloud of mystery, high up in the Himalayas, for decades. With the Chinese invasion in 1949, devastating changes were wrought, and I wondered whether, 60 years on, life had finally become easier for the people of this mysterious place.

Foreigners are now allowed to peep beneath the Tibetan curtain, but the borders have been closed and opened again with such frequency that it’s not a place you can easily plan to visit. Last November, finding myself in the right place at the right time, I seized the opportunity to enter this forbidden land, traverse its awe-inspiring landscape and meet some of the most resilient people on earth.

With self-drive options and independent travel out of the question due to the Tibetan visa requirements – which state that you must travel as part of an organised group – my friend and I booked the only tour available from Kathmandu. We were told it would be us and two or three others crossing the plateau in a Land Cruiser – what they failed to mention was the other six Land Cruisers that would be accompanying us, bringing the group to nearly 40 people. But it wasn’t a problem, the other members of the group were diverse and fun and we made some great friends along the way.

Despite our efforts to eliminate all references to Buddhism and monks from the literature we were carrying, the border search police found a quote from the Dalai Lama and confiscated all our Lonely Planet guides on the spot. Somebody’s guide to China was also taken due to a map showing Taiwan as an independent state. So, immediately confronted with the heavy-handed influence of the Chinese, we began to get a feel for the tense undercurrent that still fizzles here after years of unrest.

Loaded into our Land Cruisers, we began the scenic drive to Lhasa in darkness, leaving Zhangmu at 5am. Just as we reached the first high-altitude pass, the sun was stirring, casting a pink-grey tint across an iconic view of the Tibetan plateau – a flat, barren, gravel expanse trimmed with jagged peaks that resembled a mouth over-full with teeth. I’d been in the Himalayas for weeks already, but the scene sent a tingle racing down my spine of utter awe and childlike excitement.

As we progressed along the Friendship Highway – which runs from the Nepali border town of Zhangmu, via Lhasa, to Gar in the west – the peaks rose and fell, switching from soaring grey summits to low, smooth ripples like sand dunes. However, the one constant was the emptiness: This vast, 4,500m high plateau is almost completely devoid of houses, vehicles or vegetation, with scattered herds of yak and sheep seemingly living off dust.

Inside the isolated villages, the houses were solid and uniform in style – white, square, flat-roofed and small-windowed. The people outside had weather-beaten faces to an extreme – deep maroon cheeks, creased and leathery, hidden inside surprisingly few layers of traditional yak-wool clothing. With the occasional nomad tent along the route, I had a profound respect for these intensely hardy people, battering against wind, dust, freezing temperatures, drought and oxygen starvation to live amazingly contented lives.

Spending the night in Shigatse, we visited our first monastery. The Tashilunpo Monastery is the home of the Panchen Lama – the spiritual leader of the Tibetan people, whereas the Dalai Lama combines spiritual and political influence. The hand of the Chinese was evident where, during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s, they had destroyed half of the sumptuous temples in an attempt to banish religion. Nevertheless, the jewel in the Tashilunpo crown had survived unscathed – a gigantic 26m-high Buddha fills the Maitreya Chapel, encased in gold and decorated with pearls, diamonds, turquoise and other precious stones. For someone knowing very little about Buddhism, this was an amazing place to learn.

Climbing along the pilgrims’ route, we followed the uninterrupted circuit of brass prayer wheels that surrounds the monastery. Short on breath due to exertion, altitude and the incredible views, we looked over the grey, flat-roofed city to the gravel plains and mountains beyond. The route took us down to the bazaar below where we dodged between skinned and hanging sheep carcasses and admired the huge fur-lined coats that look so impressive on the locals, but totally ridiculous on us.

More than one way to skin a yak

Aware that our tour favoured Chinese-run hotels, we always made an effort to eat at the most traditional Tibetan restaurants we could find. The menus offered any part of a yak you could wish for – from its eyeballs to its hooves and perhaps some entrails in between. But we generally managed to find a more reliable rice- or noodle-based option with a beer served in a shot glass to wash it all down. Tibet is not exactly Italy – you wouldn’t go there for the food - but what it lacked in variety it made up for with affordability.

After a freezing night in Gyantse at 3,950m, we were pleased to be on our way. I’d expected to be staying in characterful tea houses, heated with dried yak dung and with outside long-drop loos, but was surprised by the clean, sterile, white-washed rooms of the Chinese hotels. Not exactly comfortable, and devoid of heating, they were civilised but lacking any semblance of the true Tibet.

The drive from Gyantse to Lhasa was mind-blowingly beautiful. I had come to Tibet for the scenery and here it was, in all its remote and isolated beauty. Climbing high up to 5,200m prayer-flag-strewn passes, we stopped to admire the furrowed ice channels of the Karola Glacier and wound our way around the Yamdrok Lake which stretched for miles, its bright turquoise water contrasting with the bleached landscape on all sides.

Descending from the high pass, we made it to the Tibetan capital of Lhasa. But after the remote villages and smaller towns, the modern developments were an unwelcome surprise. The new Chinese centre of the city was brimming with gaudy advertisements and clinical-looking empty restaurants squeezed between glass office buildings. Fortunately we stayed on the edge of the old Tibetan quarter, within a stone’s throw of the famous Jokhang monastery, where the cosiness of the haphazard buildings was reassuring and inviting.

From Lhasa it was easy to make trips out to the famous Sera and Drepung monasteries and pay a visit to the Potala Palace. The debating monks at Sera were fascinating to watch as they argued their points good-naturedly, with elaborate lunges and hand-clapping routines in the peace of their inner courtyard. In contrast, the Drepung was where the monks’ uprising began in 2008 and security was tight. With security cameras, bag searches and a feeling of being watched, we were conscious at all times of the prying eyes of the regime. The desecration of the monasteries was hauntingly evident. Preserved behind iron railings, we found a section of wall where a picture of Mao had been plastered over, with Chinese writing left scrawled on the walls. Here, again, temples had been destroyed, ancient religious wall paintings covered over and ruins littered the grounds.

Returning to Lhasa, we saw small groups of armed Chinese troops marching around the Tibetan quarter, keeping up a constant patrol. Although huge triumphant signs marked the 60th anniversary of the occupation, it seemed that neither side had anything to celebrate.

The Potala Palace – official home to the now-exiled 14th Dalai Lama – was fascinating to look around and an astounding landmark looming over the city. It was sad to think of the young Dalai Lama having to leave his home here, having run along its corridors as a child and received countless visitors to pay homage. Fleeing to India in the midst of brutal riots during the uprising of 1959, the 15-year-old was banished from his own people and has been campaigning for their freedom ever since.

I couldn’t help feeling that there was nothing comfortable about Tibet - a perilously harsh climate, soldiers patrolling the streets, religion restricted, temples desecrated, censorship, poverty, lack of food - and yet still these are the warmest people you could ever hope to meet.

As we headed back along the Friendship Highway, across what had become a dazzling moonscape with the first falls of winter snow, I found that, despite Tibet’s discomforts, the place was stunning, addictive, compelling and well worth another visit.

Tips for booking a tour from Kathmandu to Lhasa

Be aware that although you may book your tour with any of the small travel agents in Kathmandu, there are only two companies that run the tours into Tibet and they usually lump their clients together. So, regardless of who you book with, you will end up on the same tour with everybody else who wants to travel to Lhasa from Nepal.

The tours are open-ended so you can travel from Lhasa onto China or fly, rather than drive, back to Kathmandu. You cannot fly direct from Lhasa to Delhi.

The drive back to Kathmandu is not in Land Cruisers as they will have you believe, but on a coach (ours was unheated and freezing!). Have a sleeping bag handy on the coach and claim a refund from the travel agent if this is the case.

If you want to travel from Nepal to Tibet, do not buy a Chinese visa in the UK as this will be cancelled and you will have to pay for a new one for Tibet. The travel agents in Kathmandu will arrange your visa as part of the tour.

Although the bureaucracy seems like a nightmare, remain flexible, keep your expectations low and you will be pleasantly surprised. The scenery, the people and the experiences make it more than worthwhile.