After 5 days meandering across Tibet then, our convoy finally pulled into Lhasa. Expecting to see Tibetan tradition aplenty, it was somewhat of a surprise to find ourselves negotiating a 6 lane highway amongst Volkswagen taxis and Toyotas. Volvo and Buick showrooms lined the streets, with Sony, Budweiser and all manner of High St fashion stores pushing the old Tibetan quarter out of the way. It all looked strangely American, thanks mainly to the Chinese who came along a while ago to "help out" with their Cultural Revolution. This was a rather touchy subject to approach with the locals and was inevitably best left alone, particularly since our guide explained that answering such questions in public would quickly land him in prison... The general mood of the convoy had improved tremendously upon seeing our ludicrously grand hotel, a far cry from the grubby dorms out in the sticks. Nonetheless, gamely trying to maintain the stereotype, the French continued to complain, wanting to visit places not authorised by the Chinese on our permit. Again, our guide explained that we could indeed visit such places, but he didn't really fancy prison, so if at all possible perhaps we could stick to the itinerary. This seemed reasonable to me and I continued to enjoy whatever it was that was planned for us.
Initially, I went for a stroll around town with Gregory, who splendidly, had come equipped with the music of Johnny Cash, a careless omission from my music collection in the rush to leave home. Heading back to the hotel as darkness closed in, we were approached by a very excitable local chap motioning for us to follow him. I was less than convinced about this idea, but we did anyway. Various scenarios of what was about to happen began forming in my head, none of them imagining that I was about to be photographed as the new face of Hong Jing Tian Herbal Tea. I didn't get to taste the brew, and I don't know if it will make it to Europe, but I guarantee it's a taste sensation and cheap at twice the price.
Over the next two days we enjoyed visits to nearby Drepung Monastary, the debating monks at Sera Monastary, Jokhang Temple in the old Tibetan town, and the mighty Potala Palace, former home of the Dalai Lama before his exile in India. This was a particularly grand visit with the huge gold tombs of previous Dalai Lamas towering several metres high, and the palace offering great views across the valley. The bustling market around Jokhang Temple seemed more reminiscent of traditional Lhasa,whilst the nightclub we all drunkenly stumbled into on the last night was more like a Stourbridge bar on a Monday night. We all enjoyed a few local ales, I explained the history of Carlisle United to Jurgen, and that was that.
Throughout the journey, I had enjoyed everything tremendously, and also failed entirely to communicate with the locals. This began to play on my mind a little as I began my journey across China towards Shanghai...
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