Jac’s Journey

I’m half a world away in New Zealand, but today, my thoughts are in Beijing for the start of the Olympics.

When I was in Beijing in October, the countdown clock was excitedly ticking the days down from 330. Here’s a picture when I was in Guilin – at 195 days. Now, the countdown clock will show 1 day.

I’ve not been close to the news in recent weeks, but on the odd occasions I’ve had the internet time or – and this is rare – watched telly, I’ve caught snippets of the rising attention being focused on China’s preparations for the Olympics as well as her human rights record.

And oh, how my thoughts and feelings are mixed.

As you know, I spent time in eastern and central China, I spent time in Xinjiang, I spent time in Tibet. I experienced, albeit in a limited way, as a tourist, many different aspects of China in a short time, and it was such a rich and rewarding experience.

I saw firsthand the oppression of the Chinese system; on their own people and on ethnic minorities. I witnessed the closure of Drepung Monastery after celebrations following an honour given to the Dalai Lama. I witnessed the divisions between Uighur and Chinese people in Xinjiang, the veiled tension rippling below the surface of people’s everyday lives. I talked to Tibetans about their lives. I talked to Chinese people about their lives. I developed my understanding and changed my opinions as a result.

The protest banner raised in Beijing yesterday carried with it the best of intentions. But you can be sure that Tibetans in Tibet will feel the heel of the Chinese military as it stamps harder to prevent subsequent uprising. George Dubya meant well when he was talking about political prisoners and abuses of human rights in China, but as the man in charge of Guantanamo, his words were fouled by hypocrisy.

The unfortunate by-product of these, and other, misdirected good intentions is that the ordinary Chinese man and woman in the street believes the rest of the world is anti-China. They don’t understand why. They just see anti-China action being taken, words being spoken. The distinction is not being made that protests are against Chinese government policy, not the Chinese people themselves. It’s a very important distinction and it’s a worrying omission.

Anti-China sentiment increases patriotism in China. This is currently sky high anyway; Chinese people are so proud to be hosting the Olympics. Increased patriotism leads to greater acceptance and less questioning of the actions of the CCP. As Chinese people perceive anti-China sentiment to be rising across the world, the CCP becomes stronger, winning more support from their people, keeping a firmer hold on power, and may take greater risks with future policy.

It is right to criticise the policies of the Chinese leadership. I did it here myself. You can do it here. But it is important to remember that the Chinese people are hearing these words, and thinking the rest of the world means them; is criticising them. The concept of ‘face’ is so important in Asia, and by criticising their government in the same manner as we criticise our own, we make the people lose face.

Chinese people so want the Olympics to go well. They want China to be appreciated for her beauty, her organisation, her athletes to achieve greatness. China is on the world stage for an incredibly positive reason and this is a major watershed for Chinese people. It really isn’t helpful to have international journalists running around with pollution monitors, slagging off everything that’s wrong. It’s true, Beijing has high pollution, but this is not news. The IOC were aware of its pollution problems when they awarded the games. The Chinese people are taking this criticism personally. Culturally, there’s no other way for them to take it.

My little corner of the cyber-world is not read too widely, but I do have readers in China.

I want to add my voice to the millions currently talking about China; be clear that I love your country. I love the people I met there. I admire the strength and determination and energy I found across all of China.

When I criticise, I comment only on your leaders and their damaging policies. I don’t address my criticism to the Chinese people, just to those few old men in suits who have so much blood on their hands.

I hope your Olympic Games run as smoothly as possible and are a cause for celebration and pride in China. I wish your athletes the best of luck.

And best of luck to the British team.

Bring on the Olympics!

Brrrr. It’s cold. Damn cold. The lengths I’ll go to please my readers!

You said you wanted cold, wet and miserable. I give you cold, wet and miserable.

Guilin

Guilin is just lovely. Despite the cold, wet, miserable weather. Wandering around Guilin has brought me such joy; the beautiful parks, karst scenery popping through now and then from behind the rain clouds, Chinese people smiling at me. One moment was just wonderful; I was fulfilling my resolution made in the Philippines – passing a bar playing Seal’s ‘Kiss from a Rose’ at full blast, I paused to remove my gloves and get something from my bag, and started singing along. This Chinese woman stared at me in utter disbelief and started giggling. I grinned at her and she grinned back. I thought to myself ‘Heh darlin’, this is nothin’. You should hear them in the Philippines!’ And kept on singing. And laughing. As she did.

Qixing Park is really beautiful. It’s been a tourist destination in China since the Song Dynasty and is a brilliant example of a Chinese garden. Rocks, water, hills, caves, foliage, all perfectly placed. These Chinese garden designers really know what they’re doing; move over Alan Titchmarsh. Being inside the cave was wonderful – it was beautifully lit and the stalagtites and stalagmites were stunning. Also, it was warm!

Wandering around the night market, up to the South Gate, beautifully lit at night, finding restaurants, eating my favourite Gong Bao Chicken; it has been so lovely to be back.

But the worm started to turn. My guesthouse has no heating to speak of. As the cold entered my bones and stayed there, despite the extra duvet pinched from an empty dorm bed in the room, and the reverse air conditioner battled to remove the freezing chill from the air, my joy seeped away. My hat, scarf, gloves and thermals were only removed for showers. The below-freezing temperatures and incessant rain wouldn’t have been a problem if I could get warm somewhere, but I could see my breath inside the guesthouse.

Time to move on. I tried to book the river cruise to Yangshuo.

“Sorry, the river cruises are all cancelled because of ice on the river.”

Ok, I didn’t want to go down like the Titanic, so was glad they’d cancelled.

“Ok, can I hire a bike then?”

“Well you could, but the roads are all icy and it’d be really dangerous.”

Damn. The two things I’d wanted to do around here – the river cruise and spending days discovering villages by bike in the beautiful countryside – both off-limits.

And my bones got colder.

An unhealthy obsession with online weather forecasts led me to question what on earth I was doing; I can’t do any of the things I want to do, I’m getting grumpy from my cold bones and can’t feel my fingers anymore.

Inspiration hit me like a bolt of lightning. So I booked a flight and am going to do my route backwards.

Yes, tonight I fly to Bangkok, and then I’ll work my way back to South China, getting here again in the spring.

I’m well aware this makes me a complete wimp! You’re all stuck in Scotland with everlasting colds and god-awful weather. I try to do cold, wet and miserable, last a week and then book a flight to Thailand.

Let the abuse begin…

Leaving Hong Kong is an experience in class and organisation. The KCR train takes 35 minutes to get to Shenzhen. Still organised as you pass through HK immigration; pick up your stamp. Onto China immigration; a little more dour – you’ve been here before – what you doing back so soon? The officer narrows his eyes and I smile. Stamp. Grin. Walk.

And it’s oh, so different, within only a few metres. Just in front of me, a man is on a wobbly ladder trying to fix something on an overhead light. As I pass underneath I chuckle to think that back in HK there would’ve been barriers to stop me walking there, in case something fell on my head. All of a sudden I see scores of dark green uniforms; fur-lined greatcoats, caps and epaulettes bearing the red insignia of the People’s Republic of China. People are being ordered around, “stand there, queue there”. And in true Chinese-style, the train ticket office isn’t where you expect it to be.

Delightedly I remember the words for ticket, hard-sleeper, today, please and thank you. Train ticket purchased! Except there’s no hard-sleeper available at such short notice, so I’m having my first ever soft-sleeper journey. Queuing for the ticket, I’m puzzled by the officious, stern-faced guards standing with their backs to the ticket windows, eyes scanning two queues each.

‘Tut, the lengths they’ll go to to give jobs to 1.3 Bn people!’ (rolls eyes)

Then I realise.

‘Hah, they’re enforcing queuing!’ A big grin wreathes my face and a little giggle escapes. How could I forget that the Chinese don’t queue?

Moving from the ticket office to the train station I stumble as I’m jostled by someone skipping the queue. Feels like a welcome back.

With two hours until my train, I find a little cafe. It feels delightful to once again have no idea what’s on the menu, choose my meal from pictures outside the restaurant and be a little surprised when it turns up looking different from the picture. But hey, this is China, all the food’s great!

And the giggling welcomes me back with open arms. As the waitress and I struggle to communicate, both of us sharing my phrase book, two of her colleagues dash out of the restaurant to giggle without restraint. I grin.

And the staring. Ah, how I’ve missed it! I’m sitting where people outside the cafe can see me as they walk in. One man begins his stare-fest from outside. Bending his head to get a better look at this strange westerner he fails to notice the glass door. He goes into the glass like a mexican wave; first his head, his forehead loudly taking the brunt, then his chest and arms, with hands splayed from the momentum, then his torso and legs. I’m initially shocked and concerned for him, nodding to see he’s ok. Seconds later, I’m hiding my face in my dinner, trying to stop my shoulders shaking with laughter. This goes on for about ten minutes; it’s worse than getting a fit of the giggles in church!

After dinner a visit to my first Chinese squat toilet; I’ve seen worse, just a little out-of-practice skite on the wet floor on the way out. And the first hocking and spitting sounds greet me as I pass the gents.

My first soft-sleeper journey is a joy. A new train, the berths are wide, comfortable and covered with a luxurious gold chenille cloth. A young mother and her little girl share the cabin with me, the cute little girl chattering away and proudly demonstrating to me that she’s tall enough to stand on the bottom bunk and reach the top bunk.

Asleep half an hour later, my dreams are warmed by the sheer joy of being back and the little things that have welcomed me.

China, I’ve missed you too!

Returning to Hong Kong had a sense of coming home. I know my way around, have friends here, and this time, I was meeting up with Zillah, my great friend from uni. We don’t catch up that often, but whenever we do, it’s like no time has passed in between.

In true student fashion, we went out on the lash. Where else but Dusk til Dawn? (The cheesy club of ‘6am time warp’ fame.) What a night! Dinner in Soho, lychee martinis on Peel Street, and then DD was calling. Getting home at almost 9am, we had scrambled eggs, smoked salmon and champagne for breakfast, then eventually, went to sleep at the time when everyone else was getting up!

Hong Kong 2

I was joking with Zillah that I’ve now experienced Hong Kong at all ends of the spectrum. I’ve stayed in grotty Chungking Mansions (most of the time), a mid-range hotel, a 4* boutique hotel and now, Zillah has kindly let me share her room in a gorgeous 5* hotel. I’ve been for cheap eats, bought a can of beer from the 7-11 and drunk it with friends on a bench overlooking the harbour, I’ve been to glitzy restaurants and cheesy nightclubs. And I’ve loved every minute. For me, Hong Kong has something really special.

Next stop on the journey is another return…return to China. I’m planning to head back to South China, to visit gorgeous Guangxi and Yunnan provinces, on my way to Laos. It’ll be lovely to be back in China – after my pit stop in the Philippines I’m dying to get back. I’ve missed the food, the high quality, good value hostels and guest houses, the stunning and diverse landscapes, the people and how easy it is to get around. South China should be even easier than some of the other places I’ve been as it’s more heavily touristed. My energy is high again and I’m ready to have some adventures. And, especially for Mairi, I’m going to head to some cold, wet, miserable places.

PS – I see there is a recommended offer for S&N today – hope you’re all ok out there! Thinking of all my friends in the offices and the breweries…

China’s a country that’s fascinated me for such a long time.

An incredibly long history, a civilisation spanning more than 6000 years, with terrible pain in its recent history; pain that both fascinates and makes you recoil in horror. Currently the world’s most populated nation with 1.3 billion people and the fastest developing economy, showing double-digit GDP growth for several years in succession. An emerging world power, controlled from the top by a small number of powerful old men in suits who seem to hold the reins into their dotage – a leadership unchallenged by organised opposition, democratic processes, freedom of speech or organised domestic pressure to improve human rights.

Having spent a wonderful 3 months in China, what do I think?

Despite China’s well-documented economic growth, shiny new cities and growing world influence there are some grubby things going on.

With industrialisation and rapid economic development has come mass migration from the countryside to the cities. Migrant workers are essential to economic development, yet when they move to work elsewhere, they have no rights. They cannot access housing, healthcare or even schooling for their children. A massive segment of society is being deprived of basic rights while they are busy doing something that China needs in order to grow.

The one-child policy in China has been described as a fundamental breach of human rights. The government claim it’s a necessary means of controlling population growth. Whatever you believe, the impact is horrific. Cultural norms of valuing male children more than female combine with this policy to lead to women having sex-selective forced abortions and female babies being killed and abandoned. There are agencies in China and a hotel in Guangzhou doing a roaring trade in marrying up wealthy Western couples with unwanted Chinese baby girls. The gender imbalance in China is now 118 males to 100 females. Poor peasant families who ignore the one-child policy, because they need extra hands to work the land, are repeatedly fined by corrupt local officials. Beyond these horrendous impacts, think about a future Chinese society (where family has always been so important) where no-one has any aunts or uncles. Or cousins. And everyone is an ‘only child’. What kind of society is being created?

Thankfully, ethnic minorities in China no longer have to adhere to the one-child policy. However, they have other things to worry about. Tibet, Muslim Xinjiang and minorities in South China are all swamped by the sheer numbers of Han Chinese who make up around 90% of China’s population, and are being encouraged by the government to move to minority areas through financial incentives. Tensions rise as the economic benefits of rapid growth are not evenly distributed, with ethnic minorities claiming all the best jobs and economic opportunities go to incoming Han Chinese. Ethnic minorities in Muslim Xinjiang are further suppressed using the excuse of the ‘war on terror’ to control, and flatten, independence movements.

Tibet. Take a deep breath. I’m not sure that the well-meaning ‘Free Tibet’ campaigns are all that helpful. It’s true that China treats Tibetans as a minority in their own land, placing restrictions on them in language, in education, in the practice of their religion, and in employment opportunities. It’s true that between 400,000 and 1,000,000 Tibetans were slaughtered by the Chinese during the invasion and ensuring years of rule. However, Tibet is far too important for China to agree to independence. It’s just not realistic. Meanwhile, the level of international noise about Tibet only serves to annoy the Chinese leaders, leading them to become more paranoid and stamp their boots even harder on the heads of Tibetans. A network of spies and informants within Tibet, monitoring of post, electronic communications and telephones creates a palpable tension in Tibet. My experience of this was a casual conversation with a Tibetan where our conversation stopped or changed topic anytime someone came within earshot. There was perhaps a time when international pressure may have changed things but the situation is too entrenched and China is now too strong. Only recently, on a BBC World business report, Angela Merkel was heavily criticised by German business leaders for meeting with the Dalai Lama. Apparently her meeting cost German businesses millions of euros of lost trade with China. Any nation seeking to trade with China must clarify their position on Tibet and Taiwan or it’s no deal. And trading economics will always be higher on the agenda than Tibet. Patrick French, in his excellent book ‘Tibet, Tibet’, says
“the only realistic hope for the future (is) for Tibetans to work within the Chinese system, to try and get as many of their countryfolk as possible into good positions, and wait for the day when there (is) reform in Beijing, in the hope that Tibet would then be permitted genuine autonomy and reassertion of its own unique identity.”

Depressing? Yes. Realistic? I think so. Better for Tibetans living in Tibet in the meantime? Probably.

Beyond this, there are other significant human rights concerns.

The persecution of practitioners of the Falun Gong religion is bizarre, cruel and extreme, with torture and (unproven) live organ harvesting combined with execution, to ensure that this religion does not flourish in China. It’s main crime appears to have been upsetting Jiang Zemin.

The Chinese continue to use capital punishment in their judicial system, where 68 different crimes can lead to the death penalty. Actual execution figures are unknown.

A key issue that compounds all of the above is restriction of the press and media. A wide range of issues are banned from all media; references to democracy, the free Tibet movement, Taiwan as an independent state, the Tiananmen Square massacre, certain religious organizations and anything remotely questioning the legitimacy of the Communist Party of China are banned from use in publications and blocked on the Internet. Journalists who do not adhere to government policy are jailed.

Internationally, China is attempting to be seen as a serious world power (and their economic power is heading that way). Yet China continues to be involved in, and support, countries with brutual dictatorships perpetrating human rights abuses and genocide against it’s own people, such as Sudan and Burma.

One of the things I find profoundly sad is that China is a nation that turned itself inside out and ripped it’s own heart out during the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution. As a consequence of this, a billion people are disconnected from their ancient history through the trauma of their recent history – where is the evidence today of the millenia of wisdom the Chinese have accumulated?

Where’s it all heading?

Who knows? China is still a ‘developing’ country. Perhaps these issues will be ironed out with economic maturity. However, I have no faith that the current system of government will deliver change. My hope rests in the Chinese people. Despite society being scarred by the experience of the ‘Mao years’ – scars still clear through a common reluctance to connect with strangers or get involved in situations not directly concerning them – I have met enough brave and wonderful Chinese people to make me think that a band of brave souls will challenge the hierarchy of the Chinese Communist Party in a way that might bring change. I really hope so because a world-leading China, still ruled by a power-obsessed CCP, 20 years from now, is quite a scary prospect; creating mental images of the untouchable bully in the playground that people are afraid to mess with.

Of course, no-one really knows how it’s going to pan out. John Gittings, in ‘From Mao to Market’ cautiously lays an opinion that things will change slowly. He gives reasons why revolution is unlikely, and why gradual change is more likely. Business people I’ve spoken to talk of working with the second and third layer of CCP leaders, influencing them in advance of them attaining power around 10 years from now.

There can hardly be a more interesting, worrying or important time for the world to pay attention to China and how her approach to the rest of the world, and her own people, develops over the next few years.

Busy, busy, busy. Hong Kong packs a helluva lot into a small space. Yet, arriving from 3 months in China, Hong Kong is an oasis of calm and familiarity – even the power sockets are the same as at home.

Everything is so easy. Your Octopus card gets you on and off the metro, buses and trams. You can even buy a McDonalds or a newspaper with it. Most people speak English, and even if they don’t my pathetic Mandarin Chinese is of little use because everyone speaks Cantonese. It’s a small place and all the road signs are in English so it doesn’t take long to get anywhere.

It’s also a place to get stuff done; a visit to the dentist, doctor, hairdresser and leg waxing salon. Planned in around the delights of bookshop browsing, as I drool over so many titles that you just cannot get your hands on in China. A real shopping mecca, I splashed out on a video camera so that next time I’m looking at something as amazing as the Himalayas I can actually make a decent video! And a featherlite external hard drive so that I can store my ever-increasing collection of photos/videos/music.

Of course I fitted in some wonderful Hong Kong tourist attractions; gazing at the Hong Kong skyline from Victoria Peak as day turns to night, watching the ‘Symphony of Light’ show, wandering SoHo, travelling uphill on the world’s longest outdoor escalator, eating DimSum, seeing the new Ang Lee film, going to a play. But mainly, it’s been a bit of time off from being a tourist…

At first, I thought I only knew Sarah in Hong Kong, and was hoping to maybe meet her once or twice after her work. But no, through Sarah I met Shyamala, I got to know Nitin at the top of Victoria Peak, then Andesh (from the Everest trip in Tibet) turned up, then Mary from Kashgar (although we missed each other in the end, boohoo). Even sitting on my own at the bar, waiting for Shyamala and Nitin, I got talking to Flora who then joined us for the evening. It was as if I was drawing people to me in some way. With all these wonderful friends, there were some amazing nights out. A cheesy bar in Wan Chai was the favourite destination, and somehow, when you went in there, you were trapped in a time warp and didn’t leave until at least 6am.

It’s an incredible place, Hong Kong, and I’m glad I get to go back there in the not-too-distant future.

Hong Kong

My head was full as I prepared to leave Tibet. Full of all the experiences I’d had while I was in Tibet; trying to process and understand some of the things I’d seen. Which was quite a challenge.

I’d met and bonded with some amazing Tibetan people and spoken to them about Tibetan issues. I’d personally had a very positive experience of the Chinese Military at Everest Base Camp, yet was infuriated at the closure of Drepung Monastery (after the Dalai Lama was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honour by George Dubya and the monks had a celebration) and the horrible riot-gear-clad-police strutting around the Barkhor area telling Tibetans to split up cos they’re not allowed to gather in groups of more than 20-or-so. I’d watched Richard and Karen’s film, made in Dharamsala, where the exiled Tibetan community live (scroll to the bottom of their web page to watch for yourself www.environments.org.uk). What on earth was I to think? The Tibet issue is so complex…

Having spent a month or so travelling in ‘China-proper’, and then almost two months travelling in oppressed minority areas, I decided that I needed to leave China for a bit. I felt as if my mind was too full for me to be able to continue appreciating and seeing the best in China. I needed to mentally and emotionally separate what the Chinese government does from the Chinese people and their wonderful country and history.

So a quick re-jig of the plan later, and I was on my way to Chengdu for a week of chilling out, then Hong Kong, then………….a beach in the Philippines!

I haven’t seen a better city in China than Chengdu for chilling out. The home of tea-drinking as an art form for the last 3000 years, Chengdu is a city that rejects the frenetic pace of other Chinese cities. Everyone has time to sit down and have a cuppa. And for some reason, the Chinese people here are more outgoing and friendly than across the rest of China. The city’s got a really great feeling about it.

One of the other great reasons to chill out in Chengdu is that they’ve probably got the best selection of budget guesthouses in China. First stop was ‘The Loft’, a very chic New York loft-style place. After John Paul left to climb Emei Shan, I headed over to ‘Sim’s Cosy Guesthouse’ where Karen and Richard were staying, and treated myself to a room of my own. This place was fabulous. Once I discovered that I could go to reception, order breakfast and ask for it to be delivered to my room, I became a demon breakfast-in-bedder!

Although, I did get out of bed sometimes… A visit to Sichuan Opera and another really colourful show was enjoyable, but not so much fun as watching the baby pandas climbing around in the ‘panda nursery’ at the Sichuan Panda Breeding and Research Centre. This place was brilliant. Pandas themselves are not massively interesting most of the time. For some strange reason they eat bamboo (despite being natural carnivores), which doesn’t give them enough nutrition or energy to enable them to do very much. So most of the time they sleep. No wonder they’re in danger of extinction…

So, up early to be in the Panda Sanctuary for breakfast time. The Pandas were awake, and mostly, like me at Sim’s, having breakfast in bed. We saw pandas of different ages, with the general theme being the older they get the less energetic they get (just like us humans, really). The absolutely highlight was seeing the panda cubs – only a couple of months old – trying to find their feet. One of them in the panda nursery was determinedly trying to climb a ladder, but just couldn’t stretch himself enough to reach the next rung and kept tumbling through the gaps hanging onto a rung with one paw and then falling in a cute heap on the floor. A massive crowd of tourists (me at the front!) were gawping in the window and ooooh-ing and aaaaah-ing over this bundle of black and white fun. Unfortunately no photos allowed so I can’t share it with you.

Chendgu

Other fun in Chengdu included a big night out clubbing until 6am, going along to watch an old classic film in a bookshop, attending a creative writing class and eating lots of wonderful food. A week of chilling out later, I was ready to head to Hong Kong…

It feels like ages since I’ve blogged. I’ve missed it.

I’ve been putting off writing this blog entry cos, for once, I just didn’t know where to start. Arriving in Tibet, being in Lhasa, adjusting to the altitude, visiting various monasteries, lakes and pilgrim circuits, seeing the nature of the Chinese military presence here and seeing examples of repression; it’s caused a bit of a rollercoaster of thoughts and feelings and it’s taken me a while to process them all.

And now I find myself with not enough time to blog properly cos I’m off on a 5 day trip to Everest Base Camp tomorrow (really looking forward to it!).

I promise you all a top-notch blog and photos when I get back from EBC, probably in a couple of installments, to tell you all about the people, the sights, the sounds, the sadness and the happiness of being in Tibet. It’s quite a place!

Leaving Dunhuang, I smiled as I realised I had the best berth on the sleeper bus; the bottom bunk at the front, which has more room to waggle your feet about as opposed to them being squashed into a tiny metal slot behind the person in front’s head. Except this bus was a night bus across the desert and I was also beside the door. Every time we stopped – brrrr.

Rolling into Golmud, described by some as the armpit of China, I was delighted to find there was a train to Lhasa just an hour later. Having secured my hard-sleeper ticket I looked forward to travelling on one of China’s most modern trains.

This train journey is an epic. Only a few years ago, engineers from across the world told the Chinese that building a track from Qinghai to Tibet was impossible. Almost half of the track would need to be laid across ice, with the highest point of the journey being over 5000 metres above sea level at the Tangula pass. Undeterred, the Chinese developed a way to build it. Don’t ask me the engineering details, but I do know something about liquid nitrogen to stop the ice melting and numerous bridges over permafrost and tunnels through mountains. It’s a highly controversial railway. It’s helped facilitate even greater Chinese migration to Tibet, which has high cultural costs for Tibetans. The damage to the fragile eco-system on the Tibetan plateau has yet to be established. It’s there to stay though, and may even be extended to Shigatse.

The train journey takes you across the northern plains of Tibet, the domain of Tibetan nomads for millenia. I saw herds of yak mingling with Chinese government buildings. Endless plains, meeting mountains far into the distance, snow-capped ranges providing a stunning backdrop. Blue, blue lakes dotting the plains and sparkling rivers attempting to run their course despite half of the surface water being frozen solid. The lowlight of the journey was the Chinese man in the bunk below me who coughed up his lungs and spat into the bin once every ten minutes. Bleugh! I contemplated gagging him with the onboard oxygen outlet above his bed, but you only get a mask in soft-sleeper. Luckily he got off the train and I had a whole six-bed berth to myself for the last 4 hours.

Altitude sickness is a real concern on the journey, and I had to complete a health questionnaire before boarding the train. Diamox from home (thanks Doc!) helped smooth the ascent for me, although my iPod gave out at the highest point on the journey (and is being nursed carefully back to health as I write…). I don’t want to speak too soon, but so far I’ve been absolutely fine handling the altitude…

I have read so much about Tibet and the level of Chinese influence here that I knew not to have my hopes too high for Lhasa. I’m expecting the best Tibetan gems to be outside the city. Nonetheless, as the taxi pulled away from the train station and drove through the city, I felt my heart break. Wide asphalt roads, neon lights, newly planted trees along the sides of the wide boulevards, lamposts that could be spares from Tiananmen Square, karaoke bars, yet more neon, loads of brand-new government and military buildings. I grew more sad with each passing minute. This is light years away from the Tibet we all imagine.

Then, catching a glimpse of the incredible Potala Palace, a sliver of joy, then towards the Barkhor (Tibetan) area, with the Jokhang Temple – and my hotel. A brief wander around the Barkhor this evening has restored my broken heart, and I can’t wait to see this place in daylight.

So, that was my journey to the rooftop of the world. Tibet has been one of the destinations that has caused the greatest number of dreamy smiles while I was in the trip-planning stages at home. And now I’m here. In Tibet.

Dunhuang is a lovely modern Chinese town. That’s almost a contradiction in terms as the Chinese propensity for cladding the exterior of new buildings in bathroom tiles is worryingly high. But there’s something about Dunhuang that’s just lovely…

Two things attracted me here; the sand dunes and the Mogao Caves.

Arriving yesterday, we discovered that they charge a Chinese fortune to get onto the sand dunes. I wouldn’t mind, but the money can’t be for maintenance/upkeep (it’s a flippin’ desert!) and is probably used to buy cars and junkets for local officials. You then have to pay further premiums to dune-surf, go on dune-buggies and paraglide. So, the rascals that we are, we decided to sneak in. You can’t fence off a whole desert, right?

Wrong. You can only fence off a little bit, that’s true. But what you can do is employ eagle-eyed people on dune buggies who can chase scoundrels out of the desert when they haven’t paid. We managed an hour on the dunes, so not bad, but in a true rock-and-roll fashion, were subsequently thrown out of the Gobi Desert…

I don’t mind entrance fees when they’re for the benefit of the place I am going to see, and next day paid twice as much to go and see the Mogao Caves.

Wow. Choose your superlative; stunning, amazing, breathtaking, bewildering. We were led by our tour guide round 10 of the c750 caves at Mogao, just outside of Dunhuang. The earliest cave dates from the fourth century. Yes, fourth. And you can still see the incredible detail and colour of the Buddhist art. They used stone to create blue, red and green, so these colours haven’t oxidised and are still really vibrant. We weren’t allowed cameras in (which I completely agree with) to protect the art, so here’s a link to some photos on google…

And here’s wikipedia, which I can’t see from China…

Ten caves is about as much as you can take in and appreciate in one morning, so it was just perfect. Our guide really knew her stuff and was passionate about what she was showing us, so she made something already incredible even more interesting. The 30-metre high buddhas, tiny detailed pieces of art, larger paintings, statues and reliefs were incredible to see.

These caves were created over a period of about 1000 years, by people passing along the Silk Road. They were created and worshipped at to aid the safe and successful passage of merchants and traders along the Silk Road. I couldn’t believe that what I was looking at dated from the 4th to 11th centuries, and was both humbled and blown away by what I was looking at.

After trade declined along the Silk Road, the caves were forgotten and then rediscovered at the beginning of the 20th century by western scholars and archeologists. A lot of the caves’ content was stolen or bought for a pittance by scholars from 11 different countries around the world. By far the greatest proportion of artefacts taken from the Mogao caves are now in the British Library. I felt very embarrassed… Luckily, some were also in America, so Bill did not get the chance to give me too much grief as Harvard has got a statue from one of the caves we were in.

The argument that China was not in a position to look after these things during the 20th century is true, but I left with a strong feeling of ‘time to give it all back…’.

A truly fantastic end to my trip through North West China. It’s now a sad parting with travel-buddy Bill as he heads east and I head for Tibet; on a ten hour bus and then a fifteen hour train journey. Wish me luck…