Gyantse Dzong

After coming from the huge, modern metropolis of Chengdu, Lhasa seemed like a backwater. But after Gyantse it seems pretty big.

Getting back was easy. It’s always easier to get back to a big city than it is to get away from it, because everybody assumes you want to go to a big city, and doesn’t understand why you would want to go to a small town. It was still a grueling experience, though.

Gyantse is not an early-rising town. I was up at 7, and it was still pitch black (all of China, even the far West, is on Beijing time). I had to wake a guy up to open the three huge padlocks on the gate to my grimy hotel. All the shops were closed and the street was deserted. I walked about 20 feet when a van drove by and the driver called out “Shigatse.” That was easy, I figured. Unfortunately, we drove up and down that street for an hour, while an ever-changing assortment of people got on and off. At one point we even changed vans, then changed back. I always thought it was strange that you only pay when you arrive in Tibet. But that’s because you never know if the vehicle you’re on will actually go anywhere.

Young pilgrim

After an hour the van was crammed full of chain-smoking guys, and a couple women wearing surgical masks, so we headed for Shigatse. When we got to the Shigatse bus station, which was so busy a couple mornings ago, the place was deserted except for a run down old bus about to leave for Lhasa. It cost half as much as the van I took there, but took twice as long.

Unfortunately, I have to start thinking about leaving Tibet. No visa extensions are available here, and I am running out of time. I have enough time for one more excursion. You’re supposed to have a permit, but it’s impossible for individuals to get one. I think I’ll be OK.