July 2009 Archives

Arriving at Kashgar, I find a hostel, ride a ferris wheel and see the town’s sights.

The ferris wheel makes some funny noises as I go around but doesn’t fall apart on me. The view of Kashgar is nice.

While in Kashgar, I also visit the mosque and bazaar and chat to a guy who’s also travelling, from Kashgar to Pakistan via the Karakorum highway and then on to Afghanistan. Ballsy.

Id-Kah mosque in Kashgar. I found out that there’s an entrance fee on my way out, I happened to come in through the side door. It’s not worth paying the entrance fee.

This place, to the right of the entrance to the mosque (as you’re facing it) has a western toilet. They like tuovists and offer the following advice:

A camel chilling at the livestock bazaar with as many tourists and tour groups as there are locals wheeling and dealing.

Guy with donkey watches two male donkeys get it on.

Boy is not accepting of his donkey’s sexuality and takes to him with a stick, repeatedly until is stopped by onlookers who respect the donkey and his choices.

Uyghur man test drives donkey.

Man is happy with the donkey’s handling and suspension and pays the owner one wad of cash for the donkey. Owner’s friend is good at looking dodgy while his friend counts.

With the angry boy out of the way, the gay donkey gives his lover and best friend a big hug. Awww!

The sheep, they just stand around. This breed is known as the J-Lo.

Qiemo doesn’t have much to offer, though I still end up spending a few days due to sickness. The Chinese guy sharing the room with me sees that I’m not well and goes out and buys some bread and watermelon for us to eat, refusing to accept any money. He also smokes, a lot. Two packs of cigarettes in one night, it takes the following two days to get the smell out of the room, not that I care in my state.

Mosque in Qiemo.

On my way out of Qiemo, I bump into some Polish tourists who tell me of how much they loved Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan and they give me a box of peaches, they were given several kilos when they hitched in from Kashgar.

How do you get rid of a box full of peaches before they go off? Catch a bus and share.

When we get off the bus in Keriya (deciding not to get off in Niya), one guy is so grateful that for the peaches that he asks to join me for lunch. I shout him and he in turn shouts me a shower (few places have showers in the town). He also finds a place to sleep for 5Yuan, less than 1AUD, the cheapest bed that I’ve paid for during my entire trip.

The following day I catch a bus to Hotan, get lost for a few hours and subsequently catch a bus to Karghilik. On the bus I meet a Uyghur English teacher who invites me to stay with him, some 30km further along the bus route. I agree and decide to not get off at Karghilik. This pisses off the driver’s assistant for some reason (I was willing to pay the extra money) and he causes such a fuss that I decide to get off at Karghilik. Thanks buddy. I reward myself with a shave at a barber’s, a most delightful and highly recommended experience.

From Karghilik, the plan is to take a series of back roads in to Tashkurgan to avoid looping around. The lift I organise agrees to do it if I pay for his bike’s petrol. I agree and for some reason he drives me to the police station. After inspecting my details and making a few phone calls, the officer in charge tells me I can’t travel along the back road and I have to double back to the main road and go via Kashgar. I don’t like the PSB.

Charklik/Ruoqiang, Cherchen/Qiemo every town in East Turkestan/Xinjiang has two names, the Uighur name and the Chinese name.

In the morning, we make the trip to Charklik, a trip that a lot of online resources/lonely planet say is not possible by bus and needs to be done by hire jeep.

The road is rough, they’re building the highway at frantic pace and we make slow progress.

For whatever reason, the sections of highway that are complete are blocked by mounds of dirt, our driver, frustrated with the time decides to drive over one of these mounds (as many drivers do), and we speed down the new highway for some distance until we reach a dead end, a mound of dirt our puny bus will not climb.

We have two options, double back and take the rough road around the dead end or, what we choose to do, get off the bus and using the detour sign as a makeshift shovel, remove this “minor” obstacle and continue on the highway.

Five hours later, we arrive in Charklik, the bus to Cherchen leaves the following day. Here a construction worker with a motor tricycle sees me looking for a hotel and drives me to one. They tell me they don’t take foreigners, as do several others. Shortly I see this same man again and try to explain to him that I’m not allowed. He doesn’t understand but takes me to another hotel, and waits for me. When I’m told no, I have him go in and talk to them. After some argument back and forth, he tells me to hop back on the bike and we head down to the only authorised tourist hotel, a very expensive looking place.

The hotel quotes a price more expensive than a week at the cheaper places, I tell them I want a share room, the girl quotes a cheaper price, I smile and tell her she’s cute and I’m a poor student, she makes it cheaper again. I tell her she’s an angel and that I need to eat also, she makes it cheaper again, 50 Yuan. I tell her forty because she’s a nice girl and she agrees. It’s expensive, but much better than the 180 she wanted. This place has all the luxuries, a toilet and a shower, with hot water. I could get used to this. I shower for the first time in a week and sleep on a real mattress.

In the morning I wait at the bus stop.

Yes that does look like a toilet in the middle of nowhere, yes it is the only thing I could see from the “bus stop” except for the desert and this car.

My two days worth of travelling save me 25 Yuan (5AUD) off the ticket and I take a sleeper thinking it’s going to be a long night.

Along the way from who knows where to Huatugou.

Within five hours we’re in Huatugou. Since it’s so early in the day, I try and find a bus to Charklik, which I’m told is at 5:00pm.

The “Charklik/Ruoqiang” bus is far cheaper than it should be, because in fact it isn’t the bus, but merely the bus to the bus. This one takes me half an hour along the way to another derelict town, where another bus is waiting, the Charklik bus.

In this town, sandstorms are common and everything is covered in a thin layer of sand. The town is so small they don’t even have a pool table.

The Charklik bus driver, a Uygur who strikes a stunning resemblance to my uncle, decides he’s not driving today, not enough people or time or whatever else, asks me to hop out and invites me to stay at his place.

One of his friends shows me the Dutar, a two string guitar variant and I rock out on it, until they’ve had enough of my tunes and decide it’s bed time.

In the morning, I regret stopping at the town where I’d spent the night.

The first lift I get takes me to another town, less of a dump, but undergoing major reconstruction.

The ruins of the old town being demolished as they modernise it and cram more people in.

The map I purchased the previous day at Golmud indicates I should take the 215 highway, to where it joins the 315 and when the two branch, I should follow the 315 to Huatugou. Easier said than done.

My lift drops me off at the junction and I start following the 315 highway. Only it’s not a highway, it’s barely even a road. There’s very little traffic here, the road is barely visible under the sand that covers it and the going is slow, but the markers indicate it is the 315 and so I follow it trying to get a lift.

The first lift takes me to a town several kilometres up the road but locating it in the middle of nowhere.

Waiting for a lift in the middle of nowhere.

One hour passes, no traffic, I read my book. Two hours pass, a military convoy passes, they don’t stop to offer a lift. Three hours pass, rain comes and goes, a small wind blows loads of sand covering myself and my bag. I discover the desert’s daytime mosquitoes – jumping/flying insects that look like mosquitoes, make no noise and leave nasty bites. Within half an hour I am itching from head to toe and can barely contain my joy when a truck, driving only slightly faster than walking pace pulls up and offers a lift.

After several hours drive, I’m dropped off at a junction of sorts, marked by a building and a sign and further up the road, a construction site.

I pick up a lift from the construction site and learn of some bad news. Yes, I am on the 315 highway, and yes it does go all the way to Huatugou, however, it’s the old road which explains why it’s in such disrepair and sees so little traffic, at this rate it will take me days to get to Huatugou. I’m driven another 15km, told I can’t spend the night and start walking along the road, in the middle of the worst sandstorm I’ve ever seen.

Spitting sand out as I walk, I eventually pick up a lift in another truck. The driver takes me to his office/living quarters (he’s also part of the construction project rebuilding the old road) and I eat a big dinner/lunch. Afterwards, wondering about where I’ll be sleeping for the night, he tells me to hop in the truck. After another few hours following the old 315 highway, he makes a turn (not indicated on my map) and we drive along another road covered in sand.

Several hours pass on this road, it gets dark and we are stuck in sand several times.

Eventually, at midnight, we arrive at the end of this unmarked road, to a proper highway, the new 315 where the bus to Huatugou will arrive at 8am.

If you’d told me three months ago that I’d be hitchhiking along a mostly unused road, faced with the prospect of spending the night in the desert eaten alive by mosquitoes, I’d have panicked. Now, it barely even registers as something to worry about.

Arriving at 1am in the morning, I go to look for a hotel where I can spend the night. This proves more difficult than it seems. The first place tells me they have shared rooms, for 288 Yuan and they have no water running at the time (clearly either a miscommunication or they think foreigners really are cash cows).

The second place I visit, the woman is asleep at the reception (as in the previous hotel) and wakes up a little cranky (you would too if someone woke you at 1am and didn’t speak your language). She tells me I can have a bed for 40. I tell her 30. She says it’s 40. I disagree and say it’s 30, I know she wants to go back to sleep while I can stay awake for another few hours. Frustrated she caves (though I still pay an exorbitant price for the hovel I stay in).

She takes my passport to copy down the details, however with no command of English, she writes my name as my birth place (Moscow) and copies the wrong information for the passport number, leaving me technically unregistered for yet another night.

The following day is spent walking around Golmud (an incredibly boring city) and eventually I leave. Having missed the bus, I make my way to the town’s outskirts and start hitchhiking a lift.

Against my better judgement, I listen to some random idiot who says that the road I’m hitch-hiking on doesn’t lead to Huatugou, although my map clearly indicates that it does.

The skies gray, the rain falls and hell unleashes its fury in the form of gale force winds blowing sand and dust at me as I wait for a lift.

My day’s hitchhiking gets me less than 50km from the city to a real dump of a town.

The town where I spend the night.

I ask around for a hotel and am pointed in the direction of one. When I arrive, they tell me a room is 80 Yuan. I tell them there’s no way I’m paying this to stay here. They tell me Golmud prices are 100 Yuan. I tell them I paid 30 Yuan, they say something that I interpret to mean I’m a liar. Finally, it clicks with me, I’m sitting negotiating with the hotel owner, two girls are standing, smiling and waiting. They’re both wearing high heels, hot pants and makeup. I have some sort of sixth sense for stumbling upon these places.

Eventually the owner understands that when I say hotel and make the motion for sleep, I’m looking for somewhere to sleep, not someone to sleep with. He tells me he knows a place and drives me to the nearby cheap motel where he tries to get money from me upfront. No dice, I deal directly with the owner, get a reasonable price and in the process manage to piss him off as he expected money for the lift.

While eating dinner, the tea I drink tastes funny, then I realise it’s the water that tastes funny. I stop drinking but I know it’s too late, tomorrow I will regret stopping at this town.

So you don't want to join a tour group. Perhaps you don't have the money for the tour (they can reach several thousand Yuan) or maybe you don't like to travel in groups (right now, it's mandatory to have a tour guide, vehicle and driver for any trip outside of Lhasa) or maybe you just like to live on the edge and want to try your luck at travelling to Tibet without a permit. Here's some points to consider based on my experiences in Tibet from the 4th of June, 2009 coming in from Dege in Sichuan, until leaving on the 16th of June, via train from Lhasa to Golmud.

If you decide to attempt any such journey, please let me know either via the comments or privately via email ivan at adventureivan.com

1. Know what permits you need

Rather than rehash other websites information about permits, I'll point you to the source I used while researching. In short, you need a Tibet Travel Permit for Lhasa (and surrounding areas), Alien Traveller's Permit if you plan on going outside the Lhasa area and a Military Permit for areas close to the border, e.g. Mt. Kailash.

http://kekexili.typepad.com/life_on_the_tibetan_plate/2007/02/travel_in_tibet.html

2. Decide on your entry point

My initial (failed attempt) was hitch hiking from Deqin. We were sitting in the back of a 4WD when we hit the checkpoint and were sent back. More details about trying to get from Deqin to Lhasa, from Yunnan Province to Tibet (Xi Zang).

To locate this checkpoint, follow the dirt road from Deqin towards Tibet, once you hit the smooth paved highway, you're very close. The checkpoint is towards the top of the climb at the start of the town. To get around it, I would wait near the bottom, at the start of this highway until dark, then cross at night, it's possible to hike over the mountain and around it, or to bribe someone to hide you in the back of a truck/jeep/van.

My second (successful) attempt at getting into Tibet without a permit was from the town of Dege in Sichuan Province.

3. Know where the checkpoints are

Along the route I took there was a checkpoint at the Sichuan/Tibet border, which I avoided by following the river north (skipping an unmarked/patrolled bridge) and taking a row boat across at a monastery.

There were checkpoints at just about every town along the way:

•  Jonda (before the town coming from Dege, unmanned)
• Chamdo (several, almost caught at the one before the town, coming from Jonda)
• Jitang (before and after, both unmanned when I was passing through)
• Bangda (after town on the Sichuan highway towards Tibet, unmanned, not sure about before the town along the Sichuan highway as I came in via the northern highway #214)
• Baxo (after town, unmanned)
• Raog (after town, unmanned)
• Tangmai (before town, manned by several police who pointed at the minivan to stop, saw me out of disguise, leaned in the window, pointed at me and after a few minutes, decided to let the van pass without asking for papers)
• Baiyi (before and after town, before was manned but let us pass, after was only to check the driver's license)
• Lhasa (before town, checkpoint only to check seatbelts and licenses)

Between Lhasa and Nepal there are several more checkpoints (including three on the road to Everest Base Camp). There is a PSB checkpoint in Lhaze (passed once before it was in operation and walked around it during the day when it was manned), a military checkpoint just outside Old Tingri, three PSB checkpoints along the road you take to get to base camp and one more PSB checkpoint just near the border with Nepal.

Checkpoints between Lhasa and Nepal including the three to Everest Base Camp are marked on a map for your convenience.

4. Have a disguise prepared

You can't risk being seen as a foreigner in a town where you need a tour guide to be there legally, especially in the towns near the border.

Although I look like a terrorist in this photo, it's a disguise that actually worked for me, many motorbike riders in Tibet wore the same balaclava and riding/driving gloves (available in most towns, purchased in Dege).

The disguise had an early test when I arrived in Jonda and was almost hit by a police van while crossing the street to my hotel.

5. Have a cover story

If you are caught, make up a good story. If you're caught coming in, say you didn't know that you needed a permit for Tibet. It's worked for myself and several other travellers I've come across along the way.

If you're caught beyond the borders/Lhasa, try saying that you booked with a tour guide who wanted more money or wouldn't take you to where you'd agreed. You came in from Chengdu by train where you organised the tour. Don't mention any company names, you forgot which one it was.

6. If at first you don't succeed, try try again

My initial attempt from Deqin (Yunnan) was thwarted, but I was successful the second time from Dege (Sichuan).

If you're caught, I wouldn't risk the same entry point again, but wouldn't rule out Tibet altogether. Although they did take a photocopy of our passports coming from Deqin, I don't think they recorded the information anywhere, I caught (literally) the photocopy that they'd made when they were throwing it away.

7. Will you get a fake permit?

If you want, you can create a fake permit, either to thwart police or as part of your back story for the unfortunate situation should you be caught.

I unsuccessfully took this approach in the town of Dege. It's also possible to create your own templates on the computer using a sample permit and sample group list.

8. Accommodation

Accommodation can range in difficulty to find, Shigatse was the worst I found as every place wanted registration forms filled out, something you can't do if you're in the place without a permit. Lie your way through the forms, promise to do them in the morning, or stay in places that don't use them.

9. Know what you're risking

I've heard varying stories of the penalties for being caught. 500 Yuan fine (from several travellers and online reports), a beating (mentioned in the lonely planet), prison time (mentioned by one tour guide I met along the way), being permanently blacklisted from China (mentioned by another tour guide I met).

If you are caught, I would like to hear from you.

10. Supplies

Pick up some Tibetan maps at a bookstore in one of the big cities if you get the chance (Xi Zang Di Tu), otherwise you can browse through some of the uploaded files and put one or more of the maps onto your camera. Take a blank photo, connect the camera to a computer, open the picture in MSPaint and copy and paste one of the maps over the photo. Save the image and it should be viewable on your camera.

Food is generally not a problem, you're never far from civilisation (unless you're travelling out in the west), but you should still have some basics a couple of litres of water, iodine tablets, some dried food and some fruit for the journey.

11. Getting out

Getting out can be easy or hard depending on your chosen route. If you want to go via train, it's incredibly easy, you can go to the train station and purchase a ticket, they don't check your permits.

If you want to go out by road, it's the same as coming in, be careful around checkpoints, cross them at night/dawn if you have to and things should be ok.

I wake up far earlier than I'd wanted to and take a combination of buses to the train station to buy a ticket to Golmud.

Lhasa Train Station.

I'm told off by the military for taking a shortcut through the car park and instead have to go around it, past the two police checking ID (they wave me through) to get inside.

I find a line to queue up in (not the best service line, or the communist party members line) and after half an hour's wait, I'm second in line. At this point, the woman at the counter decides she's had enough working for the morning and closes the counter, hooray for Chinese customer service.

I eventually buy a sleeper ticket for the fifteen hour trip and figure it'll be a great chance to catch up on lost sleep.

The view from the window.

Instead of sleeping, I spend the trip gazing out the window and writing up my Tibetan travels.

I arrive in Golmud safely and have successfully spent twelve days in Tibet, illegally and without a permit and made it out without being fined, arrested or blacklisted from the country. On a return trip to Tibet, I'll make sure to make the trip from Lhasa to Kashgar via Ali and Mt. Kailash.

While in Shigatse, I try and find a tour group that I can join to get past the checkpoints to Everest Base Camp. I’m unsuccessful the first night and contemplate staying another day to wait for a group.

I eventually decide against it since all the tour involves is driving to the base camp (which is expensive), spending the night there, then moving on.

Instead I opt for the cheap option which only involves one checkpoint. Heading to Lhaze, from Lhaze past the checkpoint, up a mountain where there’s a lookout spot.

I’ve been in Tibet solo the entire time and consider it cheating to join a group so I leave for Lhaze the following day.

Walking out of town, I’m joined by a monk (Gunga) who tells me that his master lama is going to India to see the Dalai Lama. I’m very happy for him and turns out we’re hitching together.

He tells me to sit down, we’re at a petrol station on the outskirts of town leading towards Lhaze, and that he’ll take care of it. He’s not as keen at stopping cars as I am and avoids all of the ones filled with Han Chinese and all trucks and is happy to talk to pass time.

I decide to help him out, get up and flag down the first vehicle that passes, a truck, much to Gunga’s dismay. He’s saying no, no while I’m saying Lhaze to the driver. Eventually Gunga talks to the man in Tibetan, smiles and says ok. We both hop in and he’s driven to his monastery while I’m driven to Lhaze.

Some of the colours between Shigatse and Lhaze.

The driver drops me off at a truck motel in Lhaze. I ask them about staying there, they turn me away, pointing to the tourist hotel.

I walk into the tourist hotel and am quoted 30 Yuan for a bed, not having any other options in town, or any negotiating leeway, I accept telling them I have no permit. I ask the owner how far until the police checkpoint, she says it’s two minutes. While eating dinner at their restaurant, they hand me the PSB registration form. I calmly tell them I’ll take care of it upstairs.

Before falling asleep, I run a reconnaissance mission to spot the PSB checkpoint but am unable to find it. I throw away the registration form and fall asleep knowing I need to be awake early in the morning to get past the PSB.

After the final checkpoint of my trip in Tibet, I start flagging down lifts from just outside the truck weigh station and end up getting one to Lhasa for 60 Yuan, they eventually believe my sob story about being a poor student.

The trip is mostly uneventful, I do however manage to get a photo at the 5000km marker of the 318 highway.

There are a total of four jeeps travelling in the convoy, all had tour groups that have gone on to Nepal (which is only several hundred km from where I turned back). The guys must be great friends because they stop to chat every fifteen-twenty minutes.

Somewhere just outside of Shigatse, before Lhasa.

I decide against stopping in Shigatse again, in hopes of making it to Nam Tso the following day.

I'm dropped off outside my hotel just before midnight and find out from other travellers that Nam Tso (Nam Lake) is 200km from Lhasa and has an 80 Yuan entrance fee. Not interested in spending so long on the road to see the lake and keen to get out of Tibet, I decide to catch a train to Golmud (Geermu) the following day.

I leave the hotel before sunrise to ensure I cross the police checkpoint in complete darkness. After an hour's walking, I still haven't reached it and I'm nervous as the sun is coming up, this is the last checkpoint I plan on facing and would really hate getting caught now.

I see a convoy of trucks driving and I eagerly follow their movements, if they stop, that's the location of the checkpoint (on the odd chance that it's already in operation).

Trucks stopped at checkpoint.

I quickly run off the road and crouch as I make my way around the checkpoint. One kilometre from what I thought was the checkpoint, I come across the real checkpoint, which is not yet in operation, so I simply walk through it. On the way back I find that the checkpoint I'd walked around was a truck weigh station.

Those of you without permits in Tibet who are going to see Mt. Everest from Larze, the checkpoint is between markers 5067 and 5068 on highway 318. To find it, follow the road out of Larze until it rejoins with the 318 highway, follow it through the truck weigh station, when you see several buildings together, you've found the checkpoint. To walk around it during the day, when you reach the truck weigh station, there'll be some Tibetan houses on the right, walk around the back of them and step over the barbed wire fences, keep walking so you arrive behind the buildings nearest the road, one of these is the police station with the checkpoint.

After walking through the checkpoint, I followed the road to Tingri and Nepal, the other highway leads to Ali, Mt Kailash and Kashgar. After a breakfast of dried noodles I pickup up a truck to take me to the top of the mountain (Gyallso La).

At the top of the mountain a sign indicating you've reached Tingri County and the Qomolangma National Park, from where this photo was taken.

Several kilometres from the peak, we descend past a sign indicating Everest Base Camp, in actuality a good spot to see Mt. Everest. I take a photo from here and continue to Lower Tingri as the directions I have mistakenly indicate another spot from which you can take a good photo (without having to leave Old Tingri and go through the military checkpoint).

I have lunch in the town and approach some Tibetans asking about Ngadum village, the place I was told had a great view of Qomolangma. One Tibetan tells me he knows of the place and that he can take me there. I ask him for directions and tell him I'll walk. He says that it's many hours walking through the mountains to get there but he can go quickly by motorbike. He offers to take me for 100 Yuan. Thinking I can get to a great spot in a village in the mountains, I agree on 50 Yuan for the trip.

I hop on the back of the bike, only to be taken back to the place where I'd just taken the photo. I tell him this isn't what we'd agreed on, show him the photo I'd taken earlier and ask him to take me up the mountain that he'd talked about. Turns out, this is it.

This guy took me five km and wanted 50 Yuan for it. I tell him to that I've already been here and that I'm not paying him for taking me back here. He's irate and starts talking in a mix of Tibetan and English. Having spent three months in Asia, the thought of raising my voice doesn't occur to me and I calmly speak with him in very basic English "You say many hour walking in mountain. Where is mountain? This is road, I take bus here 5 Yuan, I ride in jeep (point to passing jeep), no money. You lie to me. I not pay for this." Somewhere during that conversation I adopt a mix of a South African and Jamaican accent unintentionally and almost burst out laughing. The man is pissed off, and we go back and forth for half an hour.

During this ordeal, several jeeps of Chinese tourists pull up and take photos.

I take this opportunity to ask one of them to take a photo of me with Everest in the background.

One of the jeeps that pulls up is a tour guide with several rich tourists. One of the tourists uses the Tibetan's motorcycle as a tripod for taking photos, walks back to the jeep and pulls out an envelope. The man returns and hands every Tibetan standing around a crisp 1 Yuan note, including the guy who's arguing with me, at this point I burst out laughing and try to snap a photo of him with the 1 Yuan note but I miss the moment.

At this point, I've had enough of the situation and start walking away only to have him block the path and demand 50 Yuan. I ignore him and stay at that spot trying to flag down a lift. The first jeep that stops has Tibetans in it. The man I'm arguing with says something to them and they tell me a ridiculous price for a lift to the checkpoint. Getting away from the Tibetan will be more difficult than I thought.

The next vehicle to stop is a van. The Tibetan passenger inside asks me, in perfect English, if I have a permit. Can you guess what his job is? I tell him know and he says they'll take me to the checkpoint for 20 Yuan, cheap enough to get rid of the angry Tibetan. I'm sitting with my bag in the van while the Tibetan is swearing at me and grabs at my bag, saying no money no go. I have two options here, the first is to kick his ass (the one I'd prefer), pay him some money to piss off (the one I choose). I give him 10 Yuan to go away, which he graciously accepts, only to spit on me as I'm closing the door. I'm halfway out of my seat and out the door before a wave of calm comes over me and I decide to take this one on the chin and leave.

On the way down the mountain, one of the brakes on the van overheat and we wait an hour while the driver replaces the worn pad. I get out outside the checkpoint and walk around it as described earlier.

For those interested in going from Larze to Everest Base Camp without a permit, there are five checkpoints. The first one is just out of Larze. The second is a military checkpoint just out of Old Tingri and they're supposedly incredibly thorough about checking passports, permits and the originals at the TTB. There are three additional PSB checkpoints along the road from Tingri to Everest Base Camp. If you do make it, do let me know and send photos if you have any.

Remember the following street name:

If you don’t have a permit to be in Tibet, and you decide to go Shigatse, this is the only street where you’ll find accommodation where you don’t have to fill out the PSB registration form. Don’t take my advice and the following could happen to you.

I come into Shigatse and find a hotel where I’m offered a shared room for 40 Yuan. Too pricey for me, I leave and go looking for another hotel. For the next hour I walk the streets of Shigatse looking for a hotel. One place I arrive at wants 25 Yuan and as I go to pay, they give me a PSB form to fill out. One of the men is wearing a police jacket, though I doubt he is police and next door is a police station which does worry me. I fill out fake information and hand over 20 Yuan, telling them that’s all I pay. They refuse the price and I quickly grab my bag and leave the hotel.

Several more hotels are either too expensive or ask for the PSB form. One place that I visit, happens to be in a certain guidebook. I tell the other girl in the room I’ll be sharing of my situation so she can translate for the owner. The owner says I cannot stay and must go to the police and turn myself in, or he will call them himself. She tells him I’ll go and tells me to get out of there this minute. I walk outside and he follows me, I ask him which way it is and he points. I start walking hoping he won’t follow, he turns back to the hotel and after he’s out of sight, I turn and go in the opposite direction at a brisk pace.

I return to the hotel that wanted 40 Yuan only to be told they want the form also, otherwise I can’t stay.

Several more hotels turn me away, one of the guys tells me to camp outside the city. Thanks.

My prayer’s are answered three hours into the hunt for a hotel. As I’m walking down one of the many streets of Shigatse a woman having somehow sensed my need peeks her head out of the door and says the magic word Binguan (hotel). This saviour must operate some sort of underground hotel aimed at foreigners without permits. I tell her yes and go inside, thinking the prices shouldn’t be too bad.

Inside the hotel is a kitchen and a couch and single bed in a small room, seems like more of an apartment than a hotel. She invites me to check out the bed which is good since many places have terrible mattresses. She sits on the bed and gestures for me to do likewise. I’d had my suspicions and she’s just confirmed them. She pulls out a condom and makes a move for my dick. I avert her cobra strike with cat like agility which confuses her. She pulls out a piece of paper and writes 300. I make the gesture for sleep (head resting on pillow). She writes 200. I get up to leave, she writes 100. I say no, she writes 50. I get my bag, she writes 20.

Having walked around for three hours trying to find a bed, I’m happy to sleep in the bed of a prostitute for 20 Yuan as long as she doesn’t try any funny business. I tell her ok, take my bag and put it in the room. She follows me into the room. I wish I spoke enough Chinese to tell her I just wanted to pay for the bed and not her services. I grab her by the hand and drag her out of the room. She thinks I’m dragging her to the couch so she goes and sits on it. I step back inside the room and barricade the door. For a couple of minutes there is silence, then there’s a banging on the door.

The prostitute is saying something in Chinese, I’m saying 20 Yuan. She doesn’t make the connection and keeps banging on the door. I decide the situation is hopeless, grab my bag and open the door to walk out. She says no money and once again makes a grab for my man power. I push her onto the bed, close the door and run out of there.

As I continue my search for hotels up the street, I realise every house on my side of the street is a bordello and decide against trying to negotiate a deal for a bed for the night. I eventually find an abandoned building that’s being torn down, find a way in by climbing into the window and decide that this is my fallback option. There is broken glass on the floor and it’s a concrete base which will make for an incredibly uncomfortable sleep.

Given that there is still an hour’s daylight left, I keep walking. I come across a truck stop motel and ask for a bed. The guy asks me to accompany him to the police ( at least I think that’s what he says). I decide against it and keep walking.

The next truck stop motel has no problems taking me, mentions the permit, smiles and shows me the room. Cheap, filthy and no questions. Perfect.

The view near my motel.

I celebrate finally finding some accommodation with a feast of yak steak. It’s good, but small.

Shigatse’s answer to Lhasa’s Potala Palace.

Gyantse’s two main sights are the fortress and the monastery. There’s a great view of the city if you try and sneak in by climbing up to the prayer flags, though it doesn’t get you into the fortress.

Gyantse’s fortress. I climb the steps and take some photos just outside where you buy tickets and am greeted by this sign.

I’ve been taking devious routes ever since I decided to enter Tibet but am caught by ticket sellers looking for a devious way in. These guys should be in charge of ensuring foreigners can’t get in without permits.

On the way from the fortress to the monastery, I meet a Tibetan woman who’s caring for a baby who’s parents were both killed. She has a son. Her son has a toy. His toy is a syringe. The son is a curious fellow and rips my shirt trying to get a better look at my hairy chest. He calls me yak. I like him, and his boogers. I give him a piggyback to the monastery where I hope to use him as a free pass in. It doesn’t work.

The monastery/stupa looks pretty cool and gives good views of the surrounding city.

Don’t mess with the Stupa.

The fortress, from the top of the stupa.

I have lunch at a place that happens to be in the guidebook. The food is ok but the prices are higher than the altitude.

After lunch I try to hitch a lift to Shigatse and agree on a price of 10 Yuan. For this price I share the front seat with another Tibetan and in the five seat car there are nine passengers and half a yak carcass.

The car stops in a town halfway to Shigatse and another driver gets my bag out of the trunk before I reach it and puts it in his minivan. I tell him I agreed on 10 Yuan to Shigatse from Gyantse, he says ok and gives the driver of the first car 10 Yuan, I can see the problems that this will cause.

When we arrive in Shigatse, sure enough, the man wants 20 Yuan, I tell him I agreed on 10 Yuan for the trip and that I hadn’t asked him to pay the other driver. This upsets the man but he accepts the price, I give him 15 out of pity.

I start walking out of the city, heading to Yumdrok Lake which I’ve heard is incredibly beautiful. After hours walking through the city and its outskirts, I finally reach the highway towards Yumdrok Lake and catch a bus most of the way. The only thing between me and the lake is a 1200m climb up a mountain.

I sit and wait trying to hitch a lift, which isn’t too hard given that it’s a very popular destination with Chinese and foreign tourists. Foreign tourists have paid a lot of money for their tours so they won’t be picking up hitchhikers without permits in the near future.

Yumdrok Yum Tso (Yumdrok Lake) is one of the most beautiful places in Tibet and apparently has an entrance fee of 40 Yuan, although we don’t go down to the water’s edge, our driver is feeling unwell and is probably suffering from altitude sickness.

The route from the lake to Gyantse has many snow-capped mountains, unfortunately, they don’t want to stop to admire their beauty.

When I arrive in Gyantse, I stay in a place that doesn’t mention anything about the registration forms, they know that as a solo traveller I’m here illegally. I meet a man who knows much about Tibet. He tells me that the penalty for being caught without a Tibet Travel Permit is being blacklisted from China and unable to ever get a visa for the country again. That seems a little heavy handed. I get rid of my fake permit since I imagine there might be a prison sentence involved if I’m caught with it.

Lhasa (or Lasa as many signs in China indicate) is laid back as far as cities go. Its Han influence is so strong that their is a distinct Tibetan district where most Tibetans live and operate shops. There are many soldiers standing guard around the city, as few as two, as many seven, all heavily armed and yet relaxed.

The most prevalent sight in Lhasa, Chinese soldiers keeping the streets “safe”.

Potala Palace, Lhasa’s most famous landmark and former location of Tibet’s government is beautiful. When I arrive, I perform a Kora around the palace as a thankyou for a safe journey.

Lhasa’s other big sight is the Jokhang temple, around which pilgrims walk around at all times of day. I’ve performed numerous laps around here, once with a monk from Dege as we searched for Iodine tablets for purifying water.

I spend one full day sleeping and sharing tales with many of the English speaking Chinese I meet. I find the Muslim district within the Tibetan district and head inside the mosque to look around, only to be kicked out by a caretaker.

I leave towards Everest within two days, the presence of so many soldiers and tourists doesn’t make the place all that exciting. I manage to visit three Dico’s stores for junk food in my short time there.

I also make a fake permit for myself using a copy I make of another tourist’s. Additionally, I receive a copy of another permit via email.

Having woken up at four in the morning to make my getaway, I start walking out of Baiyi towards Lhasa. Along the way, I pass a row of several bordellos, each with a couch, a closed room and a girl sitting inside looking bored. As I walk past, they each walk out and in turn say I love you and motion for me to come in. Mama raised me better than that so I wave and continue the walk.

After a couple of hours walk, past more savage dogs, I’m well outside the town and sit on the side of the road eating a peanut breakfast while I wait for a lift. The first non-taxi I see stops for me and after some negotiation on price, agrees to take me to Lhasa.

Ten minutes into the drive, there’s a police checkpoint and it’s manned. I panic a little, but before I can begin to worry, the driver has shown his license to the officer and we’re allowed to pass.

The scenery along the way is amazing.

I’m at a loss for words trying to describe the beauty that is Tibet.

One more police checkpoint and over a bridge with soldiers stationed at both ends and I’m finally within Lhasa. I know it’s safe to be in Lhasa without disguise since tourists can walk around without guides here. After days of eating Tsomba, biscuits and nuts, all I want is a big fat greasy burger.

I walk around for a while unsuccessful and am about to give up when an English speaking Tibetan approaches me. I tell him I’m looking for a McDonald’s, only to find there isn’t one. There is however a Dico’s and the guy escorts me to a bus stop, tells the girl to let me off at the right stop and bids me farewell.

Mmm, the sweet taste of success.

I meet some expats living in Lhasa and they tell me I’m the first white person they’d heard of coming in without a permit this year, though I highly doubt I am. I ask them for the locations of guesthouses, hostels or motels that don’t require PSB registration forms. They tell me of all the places they know, however they don’t know of any that don’t require registration.

The first guesthouse I go to, I tell them that I have a small problem, when I explain it to them, they tell me it’s a big problem and send me away. The second place is amazed to hear of my experience and tells me I can stay for one night then I will have to go. I have a shower and a shave and fall asleep exhausted.

Mission Milestone: Cross into Tibet and Infiltrate Lhasa – Accomplished.

When I hop off the minibus in Baiyi (300+ kilometres from Lhasa), a bus pulls up and the driver asks me if I want to go to Lhasa. Local buses in Tibet outside of those within cities are not licensed to carry foreigners so I’m unable to travel by them, minivans are exempt from this rule. Additionally, I’m unable to show a permit and will be refused a ticket even if the bus is licensed.

However, none of this applies if I’m dealing directly with a driver, so with that in mind, I hop onto the bus, excited about being in Lhasa by nightfall. Big mistake.

The bus drives from the carpark where I was picked up to the terminal and the driver climbs out and speaks with the police. Meanwhile, I’m trying to hide my face so they don’t notice me. It doesn’t help, the driver climbs back onto the bus and tells me to get out.

Realising I’m screwed, I rehearse the story I’d been thinking of, my tour group is in Lhasa and I’d paid to go to Nyingchi (next to Baiyi) only to find out my driver wouldn’t take me so I went anyway and am returning back to Lhasa. I get off the bus, confirm with the driver that I’m not allowed to take the bus, realise that the police have yet to make a move and decide to make a hasty departure. I walk out of the bus stop, past the minivan driver from Bome and decide to look for a truck-stop hotel away from the bus stop in case the police come looking.

I take a bed in a room on the first floor of the hotel and start reading my guidebook to see what I should do in Lhasa (still optimistic about arriving there). I fail to realise that my room is missing a curtain and that people walking past can peer in to the room.

I realise after some time that every few minutes one of the staff at the motel are peeking in through the window at me. I ignore it and have a snack while waiting for night to set in so I can go out and get some dinner.

There’s a knock on my door at 8pm. I open the door to find two of the women that work at the motel along with a woman who I’d seen at the bus stop as I was making my hasty getaway.

The woman from the bus station says a few words and points at the direction of the bus station. I don’t understand a word she says so I ask if there is a problem, she says there is and indicates that I should stay in my room. The woman walks away and I’m about to close the door when one of the two women from the motel start talking. I don’t understand the words she’s saying but she mimes a salute and writing something on a piece of a paper saying something like “ching ting”. My interpretation is that the police have enquired about whether I have a permit and are coming to inspect it. I ask her if there’s a problem, she looks at the other one and says no problem, I can tell there is a problem.

After the women leave I pack my bag and hide it under my bed, which I clean to make it look as though no one has occupied the room. I sneak downstairs to make sure the coast is clear before I make a run for it with my bag. I look out to the left and see three police men standing there, talking with one of the women from the hotel.

Knowing I don’t have time to grab the bag, I walk out (in disguise) and turn to the right so they don’t notice me. I figure the best option I have is to hope that they see that I’m gone by not coming back for several hours. I go out and eat dinner, grab a drink and walk around the back streets for some time while it gets dark.

It’s incredibly cold and windy outside and it starts to rain, I realise it’s not a good idea to spend the night outside, I can’t find another cheap hotel nearby (the expensive ones require you to fill out the PSB registration form) so I return to the hotel at night. The police are gone and I can’t see the staff. I sneak back into my room and lie in my bed hoping they didn’t notice.

Every couple of minutes I see a silhouette of a person peeking in through the window, it’s dark so I rely on the hope that I can’t be seen from the window. After four or five peeks, there’s a knock on my door.

I open the door to find one of the women that works at the motel. She comes in turns on the light and the TV and motions for me to sit on the bed and wait. I make the motion for sleep in hopes of getting rid of her and buying some time. She obliges to my request and leaves, I peek out of the window in the corridor and see several policemen outside. I’m screwed.

I open the window at the far end of the corridor and step one foot on the gutter which buckles under the weight. The exit out the window is out of the question. I make a dash to the second floor to find another empty unlocked room to hide in but am unsuccessful. On the third floor I see the other woman from the hotel and quickly head back down before she sees me.

I barricade myself in my room, turn off the TV and light and lie in bed contemplating my options. I have none but to play stupid and hope the police buy it like they did when I was caught in Deqin.

Another knock at my door, I pause thinking they might think I’m asleep and leave. Ha! They knock louder and with increasing frequency, I see a male face peer into the window and point at me and the door. I reluctantly get up and open the door, ready to rehearse the story I’ve practiced. The male (not in police uniform) looks at me, at the window, back at me and holds gaze for a long time. I don’t flinch, I’m too tired to play his bullshit mind games so I keep a blank expression the whole time.

Eventually the man leaves and walks downstairs. I turn off the light and grab my bag.  As I’m sneaking downstairs, I hear two sets of footsteps coming up and catch a glimpse of the man. If I’m caught with my bag, they’ll know I was trying to make a break for it so I get back in my room, close and lock the door, throw the bag where it was and leap into bed just as there is a knock on the door.

I get out of bed, open the door to find the man standing there again, along with one of the women from the motel. He indicates that he’s coming inside. I step back to let him in, he turns on the light, looks at the window and leaves. The woman stays in the room and waits. The man comes back one minute later with a new curtain, deciding that this is the best possible time to repair the curtain in my room. Ignoring my gestures that I’m trying to sleep, the pair have a loud conversation as he fixes the curtain with no haste.

As soon as they’re finished, I kick them out of the room, the look on the woman’s face is of sheer disgust. How dare I have the nerve to kick them out while they fix the curtain in my room. I barricade the door to ensure that it will take a lot of effort and noise to get into the room and proceed to get four hours of sleep. I have a feeling the police are making a stop in the morning and I don’t want to be around if this is the case.

I wake up at four in the morning and with my bag in hand unlock the front door and make a getaway without the staff noticing.

I step out onto the balcony in the morning to find that the hotel is next door to a military barracks. Mayo Wenti (no problem). I head out to the countryside behind my hotel and take some photos.

The lake is incredibly beautiful and I take a note that this area also requires further exploration.

The parking lot was full of 4wd’s in the morning and as I’m eating breakfast I think about how nice it would be to traverse Tibet at my own pace, without fear of police in a 4wd.

I pack my bag, step back to reality and put on my disguise to continue the trip, aiming for the town of Baiyi, which is one day’s drive from Lhasa.

The Infamous Tibet Disguise.

I cross the unmanned police checkpoint a third time, this time on foot and flag down a lift five minutes later. A 4wd, one of a convoy five pulls over and gives me a lift to Bome.

Along the way, we take photos like lazy Chinese tourists; if you can see it from the car, you’re permitted to open your window and take photos from there. If the sight is especially amazing, you are allowed to open your door and take a photo from there, however at least one foot must be inside the car at all times. Photo stops will last no more than 30 seconds and you’re required to take at least three almost identical photos every time you stop.

The view from the road between Raog and Baiyi is my favourite within all of Tibet as you start out following the lake in Raog, until it turns into a river. The road leaves and rejoins the river at various points until you reach a forest. Snow-capped mountains complete the picture which makes for one amazing drive.

In Bome we stop for lunch in the restaurant of the most expensive restaurant of the most expensive hotel in town. Food is ordered and we begin to eat as the other cars arrive. In true Chinese fashion, they order far more food than is necessary and the members of my car have finished eating and left the table while the final few dishes are being brought out.

One of the members of my car turns to me during lunch and says “Please excuse me, but from here you will go by bus. So sorry.” Free lift and lunch, apology accepted. The man asks a guy on a motorbike near the car which way the bus stop is and he agrees to drive me there. I hop on, knowing full well I won’t be allowed on the bus so I’ll just walk from the bus stop. Just as we’re about to pull into the bus station, a minibus driver shouts out Baiyi, my destination for the day and I hop in.

Baiyi has to be the most Chinese city in Tibet and I’d hazard a guess that it’s 80%+ Han Chinese.

I walk out of Bangda town, through another checkpoint (these are so commonplace that I've stopped worrying about them) and sit alongside the highway several km out of town waiting for a lift.

A minivan eventually comes past and offers me a lift to the next town (Baxoi) and I negotiate a reasonable price for the lift.

Along the way we pass several cyclists making the journey from Chengdu to Lhasa, something I see with increasing frequency the closer I get to Lhasa. At one point, we pass through a tunnel that is guarded on both sides by soldiers.

Further along the road we pass a few senior Chinese citizens hiking along the road. They look to be in their sixties and I have nothing but the utmost respect for them.

The minibus lets us out in Baxoi and given that there's still plenty of time in the day, I continue walking past the police (this time there isn't a checkpoint at the end of the town.

I hitch a lift in a van, which drops me off up the road, right in front of a military base. I wave to the soldiers standing guard outside. One of them cracks a smile, realises he has and quickly disposes himself of it. I continue walking along the road and after half an hour, hitch a lift in the same van, this time loaded with rice.

I'm dropped off well outside the town and as I walk along the road towards the next town, I see a tractor with two yak in the trailer. I shout out to the driver who stops while I catch up and hop in the back.

So there I was, sitting on the edge of a tractor trailer loaded with two yak. The smaller one closer to me, the large angry one next to the Tibetan midget.

All's fine and dandy and we're cruising along at a blistering pace of 15 km/h when the large angry yak does what angry yaks do. He starts headbutting the front of the trailer. The midget doesn't hesitate, launching a sharp jab at the yak's neck.

The yak calms down, temporarily. I try to prevent more violence against yaks by petting the angry yak which keeps him calm, until he decides to do what angry yaks do.

This time the angry yak starts moving sideways, first almost knocking the midget off the trailer, then pushing the smaller yak against the side of the trailer and my leg, bruising it. Jab jab from the midget and the yak calms down again.

Next time the yak is pissed off he manages to reach a hoof up and start stomping the head of the smaller panicked yak. No more mister nice guy, two quick jabs to the ribs and I stop him and am able to move his hoof away from the smaller yak.

The midget is impressed with my kung-fu and together we team up against the yak. Any time the yak charges, we launch a physical assault on him calming him down. Still, given the sheer size and the strength of the yak, if he wanted to, he could have knocked us both of the trailer without breaking a sweat.

Several hours driving like this, we pass several pilgrims doing the prayer walk to Lhasa along the way, I'm dropped off, two hours before sunset and six hours walk to the next town.

The tractor with yak in the trailer. After the angry yak started doing what angry yak do, I clipped my bag to the side of the trailer, this way I was holding onto bag and trailer with one arm and issuing discipline with the other.

One hour's walk after my most interesting hitch hiking experience, I still have no lift and it starts raining. I start scoping out options for shelter and find a spot under a bridge next to a river. It shouldn't rain so hard that the river rises and wets me so I sit on the bridge waiting for a lift.

I'm picked up by a trio of Chinese tourists just as I'm about to give up on the idea of getting a lift to town and they drive me all of the way to town at blistering speed. We're going so fast that the car almost gets airborne driving over the speed hump before the unmanned police checkpoint at the end of town and the driver slams on the brakes as he realises that he's driven through the entire (tiny) town of Raog. We do a U-turn, drive back into town, past the checkpoint (I really don't like these) and they drop me off outside of a tourist hotel.

Here I pay for the most expensive room I've had in several weeks as I'm too tired to walk to the truck hotel which should be within 1km. On the plus side, this place has a shower and I have my first shower since leaving Dege.

I wake up feeling well rested and go across the road to eat breakfast (in disguise). Sitting in the back, facing away from the road only those that come inside will see I’m not Tibetan.

I scope out the checkpoint again after breakfast and find it’s currently unmanned. I pack my bag quickly and walk past it in disguise.

The view from the main street of Jitang, around the corner from the second (final) checkpoint.

After twenty minutes walking, I flag down a truck which will take me half the distance I want to go for the day (albeit a little expensively). I take the lift anyway, wanting to cover as much ground as is possible.

Parts of the road are very rough and work is in full swing to build a better highway.

We pass more amazing scenery on the way and I take a note to come back here to do some trekking one day. Along the way we pass Bangda airport on a plateau at an altitude of 4500m.

The drivers eventually bring up the topic of the Dalai Lama. I happen to have a picture of him on my laptop, which was locked up in my bag. I tell them how far in my bag it is which ends the conversation thread.

Half an hour later, they bring it up and the guy sitting next to me is almost pleading to see the picture. I open the bag and show them the picture on my laptop. They take the laptop, say something in Tibetan and touch it to the top of their heads. The driver places the laptop in front of him and drives half looking at the road, half at the laptop. When we speed over a pothole, I decide to put the laptop away to ensure a safer drive.

I’m dropped off at Bangda, a town that acts as a junction between the southern route of the Sichuan Highway and the Sershu Highway. There are several hotels, restaurants and one hostel here with English signs, but I decide against staying here since there’s still plenty of daylight and plenty of road to cover.

I wake up at 5am, more tired (and hungry) than when I fell asleep, pack my things and start the walk out of town before the town fills with people (and police).

At 5:30, I'm on the outskirts of town where every house has a savage dog and most aren't tied up. I arm myself with rocks in case one of the dogs becomes brave and continue walking past the snarls.

The sun comes up and I'm safely several kilometres from the town. People start driving along the roads and I try to hitch a lift unsuccessfully.

A bike stops several hundred metres in front of me and I run towards it. When I arrive, I ask if I can hop on, the guy says no and drives off.

Several hours pass and finally a truck stops and offers me a lift to Chamdo.

The scenery along the way is breathtaking and distracts me from the fact that I didn't have dinner the night before, or breakfast this morning.

We pass Quniydo and Toba (with an unmanned checkpoint) and continue on to Chamdo.

We arrive at Chamdo to find a manned checkpoint and the all to familiar panic sets in. The police are inside their office so I could grab my bag and make a break for it. Jeeps and cars drive under the boom gate so I could try and negotiate a lift in one.

All these options sound unappealing and my only option is to sit in the truck and try and not be seen (without the driver or other passenger realising what I'm doing). I look down at my camera, turn my head and look out of the window and still we wait. The drivers gets out his wallet and goes to talk to the policeman who's now come out.

I count in my head 1... 2... 3... anything to pass time before the policeman comes to talk to me. The policeman leaves on a bike and the driver sits outside the office and waits.

As no one is looking at this point, I take a snap of the checkpoint (the driver is sitting in the plastic chair). I can't see behind the truck so I don't know where the policeman is, or whether there are more in the office so decide this isn't my chance to make a break for it.

The policeman comes back to talk with the driver. At one point, out of the corner of my eye I see they've stopped, the officer looks into the front of the cabin, where I am sitting and he stares. A bead of sweat rolls down my cheek but still I sit firm and wait.

Eternity passes, the driver comes back into the truck, the boom gate is lifted and we drive through. The driver acts as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened and we continue into Chamdo (past another two unmanned checkpoints within two kilometres.

We drive down the main street and I'm turning my head this way and that to avoid looking in the direction of police officers (we pass half a dozen cars and close to twenty officers standing in the streets. As we reach the end of the main street, the driver stops the truck, points ahead of me and tells me that's the way to Lhasa.

I thank the driver for the lift, put my balaclava back on (I was wearing it as a beanie in the truck) and start walking at a fast pace. Passing several more police cars and officers, I come upon a problem.

In front of me, another checkpoint and there are police standing around. Cars are driving through, but the officers' presence is nevertheless there. I contemplate my options, walk back to town to try and get a taxi (walking past all the police again), trying to hitch a lift through the checkpoint, or walking through it.

Every taxi that passes has passengers, and no one will stop for a lift. I've been standing here for too long and people could get suspicious so I decide I will walk past the officers in disguise. I walk past the checkpoint and around the corner, taking a quick snap of the other side of town.

Walking out of sight of town, I climb up a small hill where I can't be seen from the road and stop for a break. It's 30 degree heat outside and I have spent the past hour walking in a jacket, gloves and balaclava with my pack at rapid pace.

I am completely drenched in sweat, have gone for over thirty hours without food and have just finished the last of my water, not a good situation to be in. To make matters worse, I've just stepped in some gum.

I refuse to entertain the possibility of turning myself into the police and so put my disguise back on and continue walking in the heat, managing a lift for a short part of the trip, he offers to stop me outside a police station for some reason. I tell him to keep going so he does and drops me off on the side of the road.

Four hours later, the heat has subsided so the walk is easier, however I am thirsty, hungry and tired from a long days walking.

I reach a convenience store and have the best instant noodle soup I've ever had, stock up on some nuts, fill up my water supplies and continue walking as it's getting late and I haven't yet figured out a bed for the night.

I come across some watermelon farmers who suggest catching a bus back to Chamdo to find a place to sleep. I ignore them as I devour an entire melon.

Hunger satisfied temporarily, I renew my walk with vigour and still no one stops for a lift. The sun starts to set and it's getting dark when salvation comes, a minivan packed with Tibetans and their luggage stops for me, I tell them the name of the town I'm heading to, they tell me I passed it a long time ago (where the police station was, in retrospect, next door was the bus stop). The Tibetans are headed to the next town and I tell them it's fine with me as long as their is a cheap hotel.

Highest point in journey to Jitang town, adourned with prayer flags.

We pass through an unmanned checkpoint and I'm dropped off outside a truck-stop hotel. I stock up on more supplies at the convenience store and run a reconnaissance mission before I go to sleep. I find a checkpoint just outside the hotel, and no easy way around it.

I pass out exhausted on the bed in my clothes and still wearing my shoes.

I wanted to go to Tibet as part of my trip to China. Problem is, to go to Tibet is expensive. You need to be a part of a group, have a jeep and a guide. You also need to pre-plan your itinerary and book all of your accommodation in advance. The PSB needs to know where you are at all times.

I decided to ignore all of this unnecessary hassle and expense and head into Tibet illegally, without a permit, guide or any idea of where I was going. Getting in was easy, the borders of Tibet are huge, it’s impossible to guard them all so the PSB stick to the main highways.

Having come in via a row boat to a monastery and hiked for two days over a mountain, I’d just arrived at the highway far beyond the checkpoint and was greeted by a group of Tibetans who gave me baba bread and beer.

While we sit and wait on the side of the road (I assume the group are coming with us and that I’ll be hiding in the back of the truck with them), the man sitting next to me tries to buy my possessions. After I tell him how much I paid for the camera, he nearly has a heart attack and offers me one tenth of the price.

Another member of the group is taking photos of his kids while I sit, eat and drink. I don’t even notice a van pull up or that my companion has left and is now sitting inside the van. The guy who was trying to buy my camera alerts me to the fact that if I don’t hurry, the van will leave without me.

I grab my beer and bag and run to the van and climb in the back, positioning myself comfortably on a sack of potatoes. We’re about to depart when one of the group run to the van and stop it. The man returns my camera, which in the rush I’d completely forgotten about.

The man was taking photos of while I was resting and eating. These are his children.

The van drives us to some town between Dege and Jonda and after paying the driver I get out and start walking up the road trying to hitch a lift to Jonda. As I walk, a group of soldiers approaches from the opposite direction. I have nowhere to run, no disguise and have no choice but to continue walking. I pass them thinking they will arrest me or kick me out of Tibet, however, nothing happens. They look at me with mild curiosity but continue about their business.

I continue walking and it starts raining. I stop at a small shop to get a drink and hide from the rain. The owners offer me food which I gladly eat and I play pool with one of them, a driver who offers me a lift to Lhasa. Given my permit situation and the price,  I decline and decide to continue my walk once the rain stops.

I hitch a lift with a Tibetan on a motorbike and I’m very worried about being caught by police as we reach the next town. When we make a stop for a rest, I put on my disguise, balaclava and gloves and continue the journey like this, telling the driver it’s cold on the bike.

We arrive in Jonda and go right through a police checkpoint as the boom gate is still up. He drops me off in the centre of town and I walk into the first shop I find asking them for the location of a hotel.

As I’m crossing the road to the hotel, I’m almost hit by a police van and once again, my heart is racing. The first real test of my disguise proves successful, they don’t stop and end my journey.

The hotel (a very cheap one aimed at truck drivers) is conveniently situated opposite the police station and given the day’s ordeals, I don’t even think about negotiating the room price.

Once inside, I lock the door and decide to stay inside the hotel until I’m leaving, forgoing dinner. I’m lucky to get wireless signal within my room and find road maps of Tibet which I put on my camera.  While doing research on getting into Tibet, I read that the police in this town are very good at spotting foreigners and that I should outside of the town. Too late now.

I fall asleep hungry and exhausted.

Leaving the weird Tibetan at the crack of dawn, I have fourteen hours of daylight in which I can walk. Having seen the peak the day before, I figure it’s about 1-2 hours walk to the top, then hopefully a long downhill stint.

A quick snap of the amazing view.

After two hours of walking, I finally reach the peak I’d seen before. Unfortunately this peak is not a peak, it’s actually the start of the steepest part of the mountain. As I begin the ascent, it starts raining and the only shelter is back down the mountain, but I won’t give up the hard-gained ground so easily.

An hour into this part of the climb, at a point when I still have no idea how far until the peak a fog descends around me. Through the fog I continue climbing, incredibly exhausted, with no idea how much I have left. At this point, I’m seriously considering turning back, I know I can make it back to Sichuan by the end of the day, catch a minibus and forget this whole Tibetan experience.

As snow starts falling, I have one last piece of magic to rely on, the iPod. Music distracts me for the next hour of the climb.

Hungry, tired, cold and wet; I arrive upon salvation. A group of three houses together. Everyone who sees me stops what they’re doing and stares. I walk towards one of the houses where the whole family comes out to greet me.

Dad in the middle, mum second from the right at the bottom and a lot of children (there’s no TV or electricity up in the mountains).

After a fine feast of Tsomba, you can see the bag of barley flour in front of dad, the family are very excited by my camera and pose for a photo. I snap their family portrait only to have them pose in groups for more photos, I give the camera to one of the daughters so she can take photos and rest for a bit from the past few gruelling hours.

The older daughters appear from the house (I didn’t notice they’d disappeared), one with brushed hair, the other with shells and beads in her hair. Father asks me to pose with them for a photo. Although incredibly flattering, I’m not looking for a Tibetan mountain wife at this point, but I thank him for the offer.

I ask father how far it is to the next town and he says it’s just over the mountain and down the bottom, points in the direction and eventually, reluctantly, I take off.

See where the fog is obscuring the rest of the mountain? Somewhere up there is the top.

Half an hour later I see a boy standing by a tent. I ask him where his parents are (mama? baba?), he says nothing. I ask him for something to eat or drink (using gestures), he says nothing, just stares. I take out my camera, he keeps staring.

I take the boy’s photo, while he … stares. The lack of oxygen at this altitude must have had some effect on him and decide our interaction is over. The fog here is thick and I hope I’m not taking the most difficult route.

Fifteen minutes of walking in the fog, I hear voices, lots of voices and they’re laughing, sounds like a big fog party (maybe the little staring boy wasn’t invited, hence the staring).

I walk towards the voices to find a small huddle of tents grouped together. The reception I receive is amazing, everyone comes out to talk to me, and shake my hand. When I show them a camera they line up together for a photo.

After the first photo, groups of people start posing for photos. The alpha of the tent party realises how tired I look and invites me to his tent for yak butter-milk tea and a feast (hooray for Tsomba). I give the Tsomba a pass but happily drink lots of tea while everyone else crowds around inside the tent and at the opening, watching my every move.

Turns out there’s a single girl here also as the whole group pull out one of the girls to sit next to me. She’s to be the only girl that pours more butter-milk tea for me, a big honour as it means she can play with the hairs on my arm, still an amazing thing for most Asians to comprehend. She does a great job pouring tea and one day will make someone a good wife.

When I’m ready to leave, one of the other girls jokingly picks up my bag, pretending she’s going too, says goodbye to everyone in the village and starts walking up the mountain.

When she stops, I motion for her to follow me, which she does with glee, at no point giving up the bag. Some of her friends join her, including husband/boyfriend who doesn’t think twice of the fact that she’s carrying my bag.

The group escorting me up to the top of the mountain. It’s steep, but it must be close.

Along the way we take regular breaks for the group to hunt for the magic man-power worm we’ve found for sale everywhere in Western Sichuan. Beginner’s luck shines on me and I manage to spot a tail poking out of the ground, point it out to one of the group who pull it out and give it to me.

Since my man power isn’t lacking, I have no use for the worm and give it to the girl carrying my bag. This puts a big smile on her face (the whole community spends their time finding these worms and they periodically send one of theirs to the markets to sell the group’s worms.

Today happens to be that day, the boyfriend of the girl carrying my bag (wearing the cowboy hat) has a locked box full of the worms, which he gladly shows me.

We reach the peak one hour later and each of us adds a rock to the pile of rocks at the peak.

It’s freezing cold, windy and also snowing. This doesn’t phase the group who happily sit with me up at the top. While the guys smoke and the whole group looks through the photos on my camera, I try to forget how cold it is.

My toes have gone numb, which is the signal for the group to say goodbye, they wave to me as I head down the other side of the mountain, with the worm selling cowboy joining me.

We emerge from the fog after half an hour to see the most beautiful sight I’ve seen in a long time.

Chengdu-Lhasa highway, northern route, somewhere between Dege and Jonda.

At the top right (just out of shot) is a traffic jam while heavy machinery is clearing the rock fall. Our mission is to make it down the mountain before the vehicles pass us. To tell you the truth, it’s not easy, my legs are fatigued, muscles exhausted and it’s sheer willpower that keeps me going.

Every step is painful as I half jog/half stumble down the mountain. I reach the bottom (well behind my companion) almost an hour after seeing it and just miss the first truck.

Sitting on the side of the road, waiting for me is the welcome party, most certainly dispatched to congratulate me on successfully entering Tibet and reaching the highway. They know the journey behind me was tough and that the journey ahead will be even harder, so they do the only thing they need to do.

The group hand me some baba bread and a beer as we celebrate my achievement.