tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15774558660542419102024-03-12T18:38:01.041-07:00Following BuddhaThis blog is a travelogue for my trip from Beijing to Amritsar. I write here the observed variations in the colours, cultures, languages, foods and the landscapes of my 5600 KM trek.Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-91784190160350481552009-01-28T19:57:00.000-08:002009-01-28T19:58:13.342-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2405/2232455946_7ca2a19602_o.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 2257px; height: 1353px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2405/2232455946_7ca2a19602_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-57020677593259751872008-01-06T17:58:00.001-08:002008-01-06T18:00:10.219-08:00Indian railwayA middle aged man, probably British, looked a little disturbed on the platform number 1 of Margao train station in Goa. I exchanged greetings and asked if everything was ok, something that one can do to a stranger in India. I learned that he was refused to be on a train because his ticket was not valid for some reason and he had paid online for it. He tried arguing with the officials and asked them if he can pay a fine to stay on the train. He was asked to get out at Margao and get the next train. Gregory Roberts mentions in 'Shantaram' that it is not possible to win in India and the only thing one can do is 'be' and survive it. Too bad that I didn’t read 'Shantaram' till the second month of my journey in the country.<br /><br />My first train ride from Amritsar to Bombay was painful, scary and yet a lot of fun. I slept on the floor between the doors in second-class sleeper coach. Putting my backpack on the ground and then sitting on the floor of the train took a lot of courage. But once I was there comfortably lying on my sleeping bag, I received plenty of smiles. Everybody going to the washroom looked at me wave and said hi. It was acceptance of a weird sort. The next time I was traveling overnight, it didn’t bother me at all, as a matter of fact I had a friend from New Zealand sleep next to me on the floor, attracting more attention.<br /><br />The officials on board act like they are not there. Totally isolated from the conversations, troubles and questions of the passengers they zoom in and out of the coaches like administrative zombies. I offered them money when my seat was still in waiting status and was too lazy to keep one eye open for the luggage. Talking to them for a few minutes, I would get a special rate for the bribe. There seems to be so many loopholes in the reservation system and the ticketing process but like a huge wild animal the Indian railway runs through the jungles of the nation, making the so very diverse cultures and states look coherent.<br /><br />There is no personal space in the world’s seventh largest country. In one coach there can be as many as 10 times the seats. From Madurai to Chennai, there was absolutely no space left for any one to move. When there are so many of us in one congested place, I guess it is some sort of natural thing for the relationships to get established. I became son to so many, brother to so many, uncle to so many and stranger to no one in that little area around me. It is totally normal to be offered food. It is totally up to you if you want it. It is totally normal for one to grab the magazine or comic that you have in your handbag. It is totally ok to photograph anyone there as well. Something that I was super excited about.<br /><br />People can choose to complaint and be uncomfortable in this overwhelming presence of smells, sounds and people. They can be frustrated from the beggars and eunuchs asking for money. And several other reasons can be found wrong in the system worth for fighting. I think these very reasons for a resistance should be rather used as an excuse for no resistance. More over the phenomenon that is India will crush any such confidence that sees a different way. If you stay, sit and submit to India... its people, and its ways will simulate you to feel a whole new eco-system of cultures and values. These ways are most definitely are far grander than me, any outsider and that British man that I met on the platform number 1 of Margao train station.Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-14015927776655971002007-10-09T14:20:00.000-07:002007-10-09T14:22:37.570-07:00Where Is Nav?Hey everyone! Aarthy here..<br /><br />Nav disappeared for a bit of time. He arrived safely in Nepal, only to be too lazy to write a blog or contact anyone properly for that matter. Also his writing device (zee laptop) had a bit of a tumble...<br /><br />Where is he now? October 9th, he is safely in Amritsar, Punjab.<br /><br />Yes people, he is IN INDIA! Currently with parents, he will be soon branching off from his home town and travelling around India.<br /><br />Not sure of his route as of yet, he doesn't have a real plan (no one ever should).<br /><br />So when he comes back, we can hear his stories while beating him with a slipper for forgetting us!<br /><br />Cheers,<br />AarthyNav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-85084339860334985932007-09-14T06:26:00.000-07:002007-09-20T06:30:46.847-07:00To Lhasa<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1412069009/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1119/1412069009_df6007b947_m.jpg" width="160" height="240" alt="1.IMG_0997" /></a><br /><br />Heylo i dont have much to say. i have done loads of little shopping for the cold trip to Lhasa. Printed some photos for the monks in the school. It seems like i will be coming here again to Changoo Gompa. The meditative methods are amazing. It is a very life changing experience... even if one doesn't adopt any practice, one definately gets a new frame of reference which i think is very permanent.<br /> <br />Mk i am ready to leave Yushu now. But to come back.<br /> <br /> <br />Talk to you from Lhasa .Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-89081897092999963272007-09-12T19:14:00.000-07:002007-09-20T08:45:39.656-07:00Eleven and TwelveIt feels like the whole monastry knows me. The scenery is incredible. Yesterday was just a ride around the down. I took some pics. At dinner last night, it was an extraordinary assembly of some great people (Australia, Wales, England, Spain, and France). We all pooled our ipod songs on Scott's (the Aussie guy) 500 GB external hard drive through my laptop that is using linux. Now we all have huge collections. <br /> <br />A lot of soccer, photos and relaxation.<br /><br />Photos: <br />1. Jonathan on his bike<br />2. Naughty little kid close to the down<br />3. My favourite kid in Jonny's class<br />4. Jonathan and Kamaginchi<br />5. Yak taking it easy<br />6. Post soccer celebrations<br />7. Me on stupa<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1368576823/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1054/1368576823_b666537ae6_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="-1" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1369477770/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1234/1369477770_bf5baa6ed1_m.jpg" width="160" height="240" alt="-2" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1368577195/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1358/1368577195_76a60895d6_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="-3" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1369478270/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1035/1369478270_a6cfeb74b1_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="-4" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1368577889/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1102/1368577889_7b048f36fc_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="-5" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1368578289/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1130/1368578289_c1c2c4f7b3_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="-6" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1369480934/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1112/1369480934_bd6853b3fd_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="-7" /></a>Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-51351400085211152082007-09-10T00:32:00.000-07:002007-09-11T13:58:04.030-07:00Yushu, the beginning<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1362571708/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1378/1362571708_291860be0f_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="-1" /></a><br /><br />The bus arrived at Yushu, (or Jaykendu in Tibetan) about three hours earlier than expected. It was pitch black darknes and no one else in the city except the taxi driver. He had a small van in which he drove me to Changu Gompa, the monastry where I will be staying for 7 days. The ride was bumpy and nothing was visible. I found the gate of the monastry, only to hear several dogs running towards me. I had heard the stories of the ferocious Tibetan mastiffs. I fumbled with the door to find the knobs or handles so that I can close it. That one instant was very long and extremely scary. At least three dogs were barking at me from the inside. There was no light to figure out anything sensible. I had both my bags on my back, with I dont know how deep of a trench two steps behind me. After standing there for an hour I was losing my patience. My body was hurting. The dogs had stopped barking continously, and would bark for few seconds each time I would make a noise moving my hands on the door knobs or when I would change the position of my feet. Finally I thought that I should call for someone. "Hello Hello Hello!," I said pretty loudly. The dogs went crazy. No one came out till five minutes when a monk inside turned the light on. The dogs were silent, I took the courage and opened the door and asked for Jonathan.<br /><br />Jonathan had been teaching English in this monastry since the last two months. He has made a pretty good relationship not only with the people, but also the place and its altitude. They say that he had rough start in this Gompa because of altitude sickness. he was on oxygen. His room is tidy and big. I will be spending the next month with him travelling to lhasa and beyond. I am glad that he is a very experience traveller and knows how to make decisions.<br /><br />I went to the English class where there were about 15 monks. Little kids with sparkle in their eyes. Except two, their english was very poor. After their lesson it was decided that they will be going to a swimming class today, they were all super excited about this.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1361682963/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1364/1361682963_45755bac2b_o.jpg" width="124" height="166" alt="-2" /></a><br /><br />Scott is a 30 year old australian, and has been travelling the world since he was in his twenties. He is a very cool character who is volunteering in this monastary with some other interesting people. They made me breakfast and we had nice conversation. I look forward to talk to the other people in the monastry, they all seem very cool.<br /><br />Jonathan had planned something really big for the day. We both went along with a Lama from the monastry to buy a motorcyle for me. It is a small machine that i got with a supposed-to-be 150 CC engine. It sounds slightly funny. The name of the company doesnt matter because it is hypothetical No-name Chinese brand. It cost be about CAD 550. A new bike for 550. It was exciting. We plan to goto lhasa on our bikes from Yushu which is about 1200 km of dirt road. I also have Canadian license plates to put on them in order to bring them in nepal. However their are many variables for that to happen. Right now I am enjoying my new black coloured bike that also says TASHIDELE ('Hello' in Tibetan).<br /><br />On our bikes we ride through one of the most beautiful valleys. The mountains are huge with no trees. A carpet of beautiful shade of green grass covers them all. Their folds make them look like a huge frozen blanket. The road is running parallel to a river. The water is running fast and is of a cyan colour. it is one of the most incredible rides. The swimming pool was about a 20 minutes ride in the middle of absolutely nowhere. The roof of the pool hall was made of fibre glass, and the walls were made up of thick glass so that there was a green house effect. Because of the intense heat inside, the water felt amazing. All the monk kids were already in there and they were having the times of their lives. No one knew swimming. For the next few hours I had loads of fun teaching the boys to dive straight. Some of them picked it very well.<br /><br />I was supposed to attend a lama-debate in a temple nearby. It was to start at 7. It started at 9. I had a broken body from the bus ride the night before and all the swimming. It was sad that I had to leave. The pitch black night was chilling and not very welcoming. It is going to be like this for the next month.Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-11857202349939720682007-09-09T13:25:00.000-07:002007-09-11T13:45:30.939-07:00Over Packed, Over Looked?<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1361631573/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1148/1361631573_41e52cb48b_m.jpg" width="160" height="240" alt="1346025483_fff8307972_o" /></a><br /><br />I am complaining about over packing. (refer to the highlighted area)<br /><br />Interestingly... I don't have any toothpaste in my overload. So, I packed up everything in the morning and left my hotel to brush my teeth. I don't have a word for toothpaste in Chinese.<br />For some reason all the shopkeepers are unable to understand my brilliant acting of brushing teeth and applying paste. All of them are pointing towards a bucket of water in front of the shops and inviting me to brush there. Finally i find the toothpaste in a small shop. The restaurant owner who has agreed to give me a vegetarian diet asked me to brush in front the shop. So here I was brushing my teeth in Xining's busiest road. Suddenly people are looking at me. Almost all of them. A few more moments there and there would have been a traffic jam. But Xining went on smoothly. I am now sitting inside the restaurant.<br /><br />Yesterday when the train arrived in Xining, {X pronounced as the 'su' in measure} I was surprised. The image of Xining was a small beat-up town where people just come to goto lhasa. I am glad I was wrong. A beautiful looking highway connects Xining to Lanzhou, another important city. Then the city has a very wide canal-like-looking-yellow-water river that runs fast. There are several tall buildings. The people do not look like the way they did in Beijing. There was a small laughable-western-standards fashion show going on where Tibetan models are walking promoting clothes from a nearby store.<br /><br />My friend had told me that Xining was a Xit city. I am enjoying this place probably because I had no to low expectations. The most incredible thing was the pool arena. Between the river and the bus there was a place of the size of a basketball court, where laid about 40 pool tables. All occupied. And did I mention it was open air.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1361585495/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1121/1361585495_8eec466e4b_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="mail" /></a><br /><br />I took a motorcylce taxi, and the guy zoomed and swooped through the busy traffic to the halal restaurant that I heard about. On the way there I saw millions of muslim men and women in their peculiar white hats and black scarves respectively.<br /><br />The restaurant is in front of a huge mosque and a muslim community center. All the businesses on the road are operated by the white capped men and black scarved women. AM I IN CHINA? I tried to go in the mosque and am asked 10 yuans being a foreigner. I quickly refuse, being cheap.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1362474576/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1354/1362474576_935aa1ce77_m.jpg" width="160" height="240" alt="mail-1" /></a><br /><br />There are also many poorer bhuddhist monks. Many of them with the revolving stick things. I had not seen any monks in Beijing. Since now I'm in a more remote area I am seeing a different China. Aa per my researchless analysis, muslims were the fastest to shoot up after religion was legalised. Bhuddists never could live without their buddhist lifestyles, so they always were there.<br /><br />Later in the night I met with half a dozen roaches in my room. Because there was no English involved in the conversation I was having with the hotel manager, things got frustrating. A group of local kids who were staying in the hotel for some sorta party {15 of them in one room} jumped in one by one in the argument. All took my side out of sympathy. The hotel was forced to pay me 5 yuans back [score] they invited me to their rooms and treated me very well. only one girl could speak a little english. I had an amazing time with them playing cards. After a game of their choice, I taught them poker. They picked it up very well.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1362475158/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1142/1362475158_a108feb912_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="mail-3" /></a><br /><br />In a few hours I will be on a long ride to Yushu on bus. I will finish my breakfast and head out.Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-21070745623452654522007-09-08T12:28:00.000-07:002007-09-08T12:29:07.530-07:00Training Thoughts<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1347040739/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1285/1347040739_9eee0f0372_m.jpg" alt="1346916606_21b4d8c62f_oedit" height="160" width="240" /></a><br /><br />I am in the train to Xining. Most of the people here around me are looking at me as I start writing... on a paper, and not even my laptop. I dont care that I am being stared at. My back is hurting. It is killing me in fact. The pain in the shoulders is of exhaustion, my luggage is too heavy. I think I over packed. But what do I have that I dont need. Or is a luxury. The only hope is that I will be getting rid of some load when I see Jonathan in Yushu.<br /><br />Beijing was a tremendous experience. The amount of people everywhere at any time was just incredible. And yet so much discipline, decorum, and cleanliness. An escalator in the middle of road, being used by a hundreds per minute is just one example. I compare it to the broken escalator located at he Finch subway station, it has been under-repair since before I can remember.<br /><br />The cycle trip was a good idea. It is a weird feeling that I won't be going back to Beijing. On this trip at least. The city doesn't look like a place where I can just go once and spend a day. It is a kind of lace that keeps you there and calls upon you again and again. It is a kind of place where I should be finishing my journey as well... just like havana, what a city. But that is not happening. I leave beijing and see it the last time... probably for a long time.<br /><br />Someone has started playing music. It is pretty loud. Sounds like one of those cheezy-plastic pop bands of the west. Many people in the compartment are singing to it.<br /><br />I am now in Hebey. A province next to Beijing. Fertile, flat and flourishing. From the window it looks like the northern plains of India. After living in Canada for a few years I am used to seeing the unused lands with the jungles and shrubs. But here, lands are all occupied and being manipulated. Agriculture, multilane highways or construction. I hope it changes in Qinghai.<br /><br />The girl in front of me has opened a packet of some sort of chips. It smells like ass. The guy next to her has yellow teeth. He is the brother and the elderly fellow is probably the father. But I can be very wrong. They have been talking since a long time. As a matter of fact they have been talking since the train left Beijing West Train Station. As a matter of fact most of the people here are chatting. Loudly. Still I do not feel distrubed. It is like the white noise of the background. I don't understand it.<br /><br />It is 3:30. The first vendor is here. guess what is she selling. Fried Chicen feet. where is my camera... OH shit. i got to goto the washroom. Laters.<br /><span class="sg"><br /></span>Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-6754366299357068182007-09-06T19:37:00.000-07:002007-09-20T08:44:48.339-07:00Day 1: The Day That Never Was<div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/aarthyster/1338761491/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1231/1338761491_40d66c6cda_m.jpg" alt="a" height="160" width="240" /></a><br /><br />Four months ago i told myself that it was only four months left for my<br />trip. But that was four months ago. I am now in Beijing. The city that i have been reading about since my first geography class.<br />The city in which i planned to see the progressive china. The city which i had been dreaming about. I am in Beijing. (just wanted to say that again) </div> <p>According to me, Beijing is just like New Delhi with many chinese people. The reason that i feel like i am in delhi is the temperature, the rush, the intensity etc. It is different because of the absence of clutter and garbage on the roads.<br />While entering beijing from the plane i looked like a never ending consruction site. The whole city is under construction. I am very impressed with the way construction is going on here. Millions of under-construction buildings, millions of workers, not even one road jammed because of this. I hear it is because ofthe olympics they are doing all this effort. </p> <p>I went to the railway station to get the ticket for xining, and fortunately (or unfortunately) I got one for tommorrow. I was told through many sources that it will take atleast three days to get a ticket from Beijing to Xining. But I want to be in Yushu as soon as possible as i want to spend as much time as i can on the Tibetan plateau. This means only one night in Beijing. ONLYONENIGHTINBEIJING? am i out of my mind? </p> <p>I am not a touristy kind of tourist. Tinnamen square, the forbidden city and the great wall with all the other super attractions can wait for me. And to justify more, i rented a bicyle today to go to the canadian embassy and roam around in the city. Beijing IS a wicked city on the bike, especially with a jet lag. The cyclists have their own lane that cars dont mind encroaching in. The disrespcted street lights continue to change colours in shame. And the traffic goes on. In the eveining the naked old men playing table tennis in an ultra-professional style was a delight. I had never seen so much spin and so many smashes. the wrinkled texture of their skin, the expressionless faces of the old men, and those incredible serves in the evening sun was something that i will treasure. <script><!-- D(["mb","\u003c/p\>\n\u003cp\>As my first day comes to an end, I feel that i am not doing any justice to the city. The experience called beijing should have been only 2 days and one night for me. The way city is growing, i am sure it will upon me and i will find myself here again in the future. \n\u003cbr\>\u003c/p\>",1] ); D(["mb","\u003cspan class\u003dsg\>\u003cbr clear\u003d\"all\"\>\u003cbr\>-- \u003cbr\>Nav\u003cbr\>-------\u003cbr\>Any effort that has self-glorification as its final endpoint is bound to end in disaster. (R. M. Pirsig) \n\u003c/span\>",0] ); D(["ma",[1,"\u003ctable class\u003datt cellspacing\u003d0 cellpadding\u003d5 border\u003d0\>\u003ctr\>\u003ctd\>\u003ctable cellspacing\u003d0 cellpadding\u003d0\>\u003ctr\>\u003ctd align\u003dcenter\>\u003cimg class\u003dthi src\u003d?realattid\u003df_f6a2nqjl&attid\u003d0.1&disp\u003dthd&view\u003datt&th\u003d114ddd0e85227692\>\u003ctd width\u003d7\>\u003ctd\>\u003cb\>IMG_9807 (Modified).JPG\u003c/b\>\u003cbr\>977K Scanning for viruses...\u003c/table\>\u003c/table\>","114ddd0e85227692"] ] ); D(["ce"]); //--></script></p> <p>As my first day comes to an end, I feel that i am not doing any justice to the city. The experience called beijing should have been only 2 days and one night for me. The way city is growing, i am sure it will upon me and i will find myself here again in the future.<br /></p><span class="sg"><br /></span>Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1577455866054241910.post-43282001509023854022007-08-20T16:31:00.000-07:002007-08-22T18:40:50.669-07:00Counting the days and the dollars<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=" com="" photos="" amoleji="" 1198065732="" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1278/1198065732_a613d178f1_m.jpg" alt="Counting the days and the dollars" height="172" width="240" /></a><br />A couple of weeks ago, after re-reading the thesis for the 30<sup>th</sup> time, I knew that there were many mistakes still unspotted between my long lines. I was never able to concentrate for any significant time and thus my mind did what it has been doing the best for the last few months. Count the days till the take off and count the dollars that I still have to make for the trip. <p class="MsoNormal">Last week, the story of the thesis and its defense concluded with a happy ending. I found myself empty handed with nothing to worry about, and my mind didn’t even drift towards my globe tottering. I guess, in the million breaks that I took while studying, I had gathered a lot of information about the trip. All that was required was visas, shopping, a few phone calls and packing. After pondering about it, I figured that a lot was still to be done. I needed visa for <st1:country-region><st1:place>China</st1:place></st1:country-region> and <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>, where <st1:country-region><st1:place>Nepal</st1:place></st1:country-region> is so hospitable that they give you the visa at their door steps. I had to get shoes, some equipment for my camera, GPS, blah blah, blah, contact my hosts through couch surfing and find more for the places that I was still having no place to stay. It was exciting, but I didn’t focus much on that. I counted the days and the dollars yet again. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""></span>I have read it at many places that ‘…traveling <st1:country-region><st1:place>Tibet</st1:place></st1:country-region> is hard, and the hardships start way before the journey itself’. However, even after spending hours while planning a route for the trip, I still am unsure about how I will cross <st1:state><st1:place>Qinghai</st1:place></st1:state> and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Tibet</st1:place></st1:country-region> autonomous region (TAR, the Chinese idea of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Tibet</st1:place></st1:country-region>) because of the ever changing laws and permits imposed by the Chinese government. Lonely planet (LP) for Tibet, Thorn-tree (LP’s online forum), and other websites have a whole spectrum of information with only one consistency, that entering TAR is risky without a 4wd and a guided tour. If one travels alone, there is a chance of fined heavily and or imprisoned for a long time (which in itself is a great story to tell later if one survives the Chinese prison… so lets see).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">If one takes the bus from <st1:city><st1:place>Xining</st1:place></st1:city> (Capitol of Qinghai and a launch pad for the province) to different places within <st1:state><st1:place>Qinghai</st1:place></st1:state>, the routes are long and buses don’t have frequent stops. Sitting in a bunk bus, and looking at the most amazing valleys and mountains of <st1:place>Asia</st1:place> through a dirty glass on a bumpy road can potentially be the worst nightmare of a person with photographical inclinations (i.e. me). The bus can be stopped at request, but that means stopping in areas where one can be stranded for days without food and human contact (a bit of an exaggeration but arguably it is almost like this). </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Along with a few other challenges, the last one in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Tibet</st1:place></st1:country-region> is the problem of leaving <st1:country-region><st1:place>Tibet</st1:place></st1:country-region> through the friendship highway <span style=""> </span>that connects <st1:country-region><st1:place>China</st1:place></st1:country-region> with the Nepali border. The heroic stunt of a few pro <st1:country-region><st1:place>Tibet</st1:place></st1:country-region> Canadian-australian and American dudes who flagged the 40mX40m poster to free <st1:country-region><st1:place>Tibet</st1:place></st1:country-region> has resulted into a very stringent hwy and no one without a guide can travel on it. I have decided to go against the expense of the 4wd and the guide all over. Luckily I am meeting a British lad, Jonathan in Yushu where he is teaching. With him, I hope to cross the vast grasslands of Kham and Amdo…somehow. Tomorrow I will go shop.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>However there are 14 days left to the flight and it is about $400 dollars that I am short of. </p>Nav Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07852151170668464776noreply@blogger.com3