Top of the world Ma!

One negative point, that I want to tackle at the moment anyway, is the inherent bigotry I’ve encountered travelling under the care of my Chinese chaperones. Invariably , whenever we arrive at a town or stop to eat on the road, it’s always establishments of Han Chinese we frequent. This was the same in Xinjiang, the Uigyr region of China. In fact today is the first time I’ve been taken to a Tibetan restaurant, courtesy of the local guide I’ve been allocated until we get to Lhasa. The last guide warned me about eating in, “local restaurants”. I never realised they were such dirty people, that they never washed their hands and would spread their diseases to me. He also informed me how to tell who the Tibetans were, “they are the ones with black skin,” of course, again why hadn’t I realised? Oh how I miss Shanshan (Harry), he’s such an arrogant jerk! I’m just hoping he doesn’t rejoin the tour from Lhasa; I’ve been reassured he won’t be, but who knows. (Photo: Valley spreading out from the village - Tingri, Tibet)

There’s a difference between expecting something and facing the reality. Tibet really is in the grasp of the Chinese authorities. Just about every town we approach there is a police roadblock, they record all personnel and check their papers. It’s actually with relief to report they aren’t too heavy-handed, though a spark of doubt by any minor official is likely to delay you until he’s cleared his doubts with the highest available official. This was a problem when we tried to enter Tingri Valley, the approach route to Everest. It took over an hour of waiting for the station inspector to arrive, once the appropriate arse licking had been accomplished he allowed us through. All this was due to not having a police endorsement from the regional city, Shigatse, which was 240km out of our way. It’s a routine established to cater for the flow of tourists coming up from Nepal to tick off visiting Everest. The minor police officer, a snotty nosed little kid, hadn’t come across someone coming south from Xinjiang before, his poor little brain couldn’t cope with the situation. (Photo: Typical smiling local - Tingri, Tibet)

Miraculously I’ve been on my best behaviour, not even showing the slightest sign of irritation when faced with the petty bureaucracy. I’m fully aware it would not go in my favour if I did so, any member of the security forces seems to have the power to screw up all the careful preparation of the numerous permits essential for a foreigner to be in Tibet. Within the country it’s obvious the Tibetans are treated as second class citizens, the police might not overtly treat them so, but the general Han populace certainly do. I must be honest too they appear ill kempt, clothes and general appearance are dirty, uncared for. Considering that large numbers of the population live rurally it’s hardly any surprise. Houses do not have running water or inside toilets, in fact from what I’ve been able to see many don’t have toilets at all. Villages will often have a community lavatory, and if they’re lucky water tap; many areas still rely on natural water flowing through the village. Take my word for it, the river or lake water is freezing, I wouldn’t go in there and spend my time cleaning myself thoroughly. Hot water has to be heated over a fire of some sort, generally of wood or pressed dung. You do find some coal in places, but not out in the sticks. Tibet isn’t renowned for a plentiful supply of wood, so animal dung is most common. Don’t be squeamish though, it doesn’t burn with much of a smell. Appearances aside I still find Tibetans to be the friendliest people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Not a single person has shown anything but immense pleasure at seeing me, Sasha Dilay they constantly call out. I haven’t a clue who she is, but they’ve obviously mistaken me for someone else. On a serious note though, it means good luck! The enthusiasm with which it’s given there’s no doubting the sincerity of their wishes. (Photos: 1] Valley towards the village; 2] My first view of Everest - Tingri Valley, Tibet)

Everest base camp was never felt to be the highlight of the journey, I don’t actually think there was one. The whole trip through Tibet was meant to be a onslaught of natural beauty, with me living rough amongst it. It has turned out to be the most touching experience, I suppose the power behind the myth of Everest was bound to make it a bit special. I was worried it would be overrun with tourists and macho mountaineers. I’m glad to say it was neither, in fact it was incredible, I had Everest to myself. Of course it wasn’t as simple as that, the drive in was a long and bumpy ride, and once you’re there how long do you just sit and stare at a huge lump of beautiful snow covered rock. Without knowing it’s special significance maybe not too long. I was happy to stay in awe for as long as I had it to myself. It seems I was truly blessed that day and wanted to make the most of it. For days before the peak had been obscured, for many of them most the mountain had been hidden form view. A spectacularly clear day dawned for me, by the time we got halfway and reached a high viewpoint it was bright sunshine and only a few wispy clouds. Before me lay the Himalayas, a line of the highest peaks in the world, crispy white with snow, every detail as clear as a bell. Forget the name or facts behind the myth, it’s a stunning view, and a rare one to see as clear. And true to form, in recent years anyway, my emotions got the better of me and the tears sprang forth. I’ve explained this before, and it doesn’t go away. Not that there was any sadness or regret in the experience, it merely made me miss Cai. I rationalise it by telling myself it’s because he never got the chance to experience it himself, but that’s just me trying to understand it. Amazing sights or experiences now have that effect on me, they always bring him to mind, and how could not feel saddened by his death? So I had my moment, cherished it for what it was, then set off again because base camp was still a long way off. (Photos: 1] The Himalayas, 2] Everest summit - Tingri Valley, Tibet)

In many ways the focus is so strongly on Everest itself people’s attention misses a whole host of natural beauty. The whole of Tingri valley is amazing, an absolutely formidable record of geological magnificence. The layers or grain within the rock swirl in exquisite style, obviously patterns formed by flowing lava. My head itself was swirling trying to decipher exactly how the phenomenal array of geological wonders came to be. My guide was a fountain of knowledge on Tibetan Buddhism and injustices, but he seemed unconvinced about the Himalayas beginning life as the ocean floor. Having been there so often he confessed to not finding it anything special any more. What a shame, even when I return to North Wales I only have to look up and see the Carneddi and feel awe at it’s beauty. No matter how many years I lived there, how often I looked up and saw the range it had the same effect. How can we allow ourselves to become numb to beauty? That it such a shame. (Photo: Mount Everest from base camp - Tingri Valley, Tibet)

So now, inserted in another hotel I feel quite taken back by the whole experience of Everest and the Tingri Valley. It’s one of the first areas of agriculture I’ve seen in Tibet, barley is grown in abundance, then ground using water mills. They also grow Rape Seed for oil, it’s a very poor area but the housing is ornate and the people happy. Despite restrictions on their political freedom, the life they lead doesn’t reflect this. It is indeed a magical place, populated by a very special group of people. It touched my heart, however exorbitant the cost of reaching the valley, you can’t equate money with such things. Like the local population display all too clearly, money is not the be all and end all. (Photo: Mountain road - Tingri Valley, Tibet)