To the Rooftop of the World

With much excitement and anticipation and maybe a tincy wincy doce of intrepidation I packed up my bag and said my goodbyes to Jo on Friday morning and head to Xian train station for the "Express" Train to Lhasa (36 hours!).

After the political demonstrations last year and ongoing tensions between the Tibetan govenment in exile and the Chinese, travel to Tibet for Westerners has been somewhat complex for some while. For much of the last year the "border" has been closed but in late March it was finally announced that in April it would reopen. The press releases claimed that more than 200 tour groups would come to Tibet in its first month reopened although having spent the last few months talking to travel agencies (you can only come to Tibet with a travel agency as only they can request the special entry permit needed to buy a train or plane ticket) I can only conclude that this is a gross over estimation. There are few agencies and even fewer that had groups confirmed for may. I found 4 in the end! The one I picked has one other person (an American architect from Boston).

Even harder to obtain are tickets for the Qinghai-Tibet train. The railway is considered an engineering marvel. Topping out at 5,072m it is the world's highest railway snatching the title from a Peruvian line. 86% of the line is above 4,000m and half the track lies on permafrost requiring a cooling system of pipes driven into the ground to keep it frozen year round and avoid a rail buckling summer thaw. Construction of the line involved building 160km of bridges and elevated track, seven tunnels (including the world's highest) and 24 hyperbaric chambers, the latter to treat altitude sick workers. The cost - a cool $1.4 billion.

With the American in my tour group we made our way to our waiting room. It may have been ceremoniously signed "Waiting Room to Tibetan" but inside was another story. People eveywhere jammed into a large but busy waiting room carrying eveything and anything and always with half a dozen pot noodles in hand. Having started out in Beijing the previous night our train was due in at 8.48am. Shortly before the Chinese and Tibetan mases formed a disorderly crowd at the door to the platform only to be yelled at and pushed back by guards. This went on for about half an hour before the floodgates were opened and we got swept through the doors down some stairs to where the 15 carriages of the Lhasa express were waiting. People ran frantically to find their carriage and just 10 minutes later we were off.

The first 12 hours from Xian to Xining were pretty uneventful but as the day drew to a close snow capped mountains began to peak over the distant horizon. We were already crusing at 2,500m. I slept incredibly well probably due to the oxygen pumped into the cabin. During the night we reached 3,000m and at by 7am we were at 4,000m. Waking up to a glorious sunrise over the snowy peaks that lined either side of the tracks was truly amazing. As with so many other sites this far words and pictures can not do this justice. Just to look at the map and consider where I am on the Tibetan plateau was mind blowing. And as a side thought how is it that my mobile only works at home (Uplyme) when I lean out as far as possible of the upstairs window yet here miles and miles from any form of civilisation (with exception of a couple of nomads and a few thousand yak) it works like a dream.

Throughout the higher parts of the journey oxygen is pumped into the carriages, although I am not sure how well this really works, especially since the locals insist on opening the windows and smoking. By lunch we reached the tanggula mountain which topped 5,000m and then it was downhill all the way to Lhasa! We counted 8 Westerners on a train of more than 500 people, and of course we clustered, mainly because of lack of communication with the Chinese and Tibetans. The couple in my cabin did speak some English which was great, although the woman, Julie, became quite sick with altitude. Touch wood I have been okay. A little lethargic despite my 9 hour sleep, a little breathless above 4,000m but other than that okay.

Photos are at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=124399&id=613391326&l=40fe87ea88

The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn't a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with friends I make,
And better friends I'll not be knowing;
Yet there isn't a train I'd rather take,
No matter where it's going.
Edna St. Vincent Millay