The Train to Tibet
CHINA | Thursday, 13 December 2007 | Views [429] | Comments [1]
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Day
18: A Ticket to Ride the Highest Train in the World
Getting a ticket for the train to Tibet is
not as easy as one might imagine. With the unpredictable, nervous Chinese
Government continually changing and rearranging the rules that are only
enforced half of the time, neither the officials nor the international
community really know what's going on. The only thing anyone can agree on is
that nothing is certain. Before leaving I spent a lot of time on travel forums
researching this part of the trip, reading other backpacker's difficulties and
success stories. There was constant debate about the need for a Tibetan permit,
or lack thereof. In general people were not getting checked and most considered
them to be an unnecessary waste of money that just added to the Chinese
Government's coffers. Even those who were checked and didn’t have one were,
more often than not, simply ignored. The risk was of course, that you could
never be sure of the consequences, and there were some who had been sent back
to where they’d come from or forced to remain where they were until attaining
one, a process that could take weeks, or days, depending on the current political
climate, who you were dealing with, and a host of other factors. Purchasing
train tickets was also fraught with difficulty. Independent travelers were
successfully buying train tickets but often by going to extremes; for example,
taking a bus to different departure points where the officials were more lax,
or giving a commission to a Chinese person at the station to buy the ticket for
them. Some foreigners were told they couldn't have a ticket but on returning
the next day to try again they were sold one. It seemed that there was only one
sure-fire way to get a ticket and that's were Tim's connections came in. Tim
asked his Chinese secretary to order a ticket online for me. I gave her the
money and the ticket arrived in the mail 3 days later. I held in my hand one
ticket on the highest train in the world, Beijing to Lhasa. Unfortunately even
she had been unable to meet my slightly more complicated request to get a
ticket to Xian, one of the first stops, and then another ticket from there to
Lhasa. The communist government's hard headed bureaucracy is second to none. I
was disappointed that I would miss the Terracotta Warriors but relieved to be
able to complete the next leg of my trip.
The layout of the train is six bunks to a
compartment, three on one side and three on the other. Not enough space between
them to sit up, but enough for a comfortable sleep. I chose the top bunk
because it was the cheapest, but of course that also means the most
inconvenient. It was evening when we departed Beijing. I climbed into my bunk
to do a little reading before falling asleep, noting the oxygen vents in the
roof as I did so. Because of the high altitudes, the train uses compressed air similar
to that of a plane, although not as airtight, and has oxygen masks available
for passengers who may suffer any adverse effects; oxygen masks, I found out
later from other travelers, which the conductor neglected to give me. Though he
did give me small piece of paper to sign that stated I was able to adapt to
altitudes above 3000 meters. I’d read somewhere that altitude sickness claimed
its first victim the month after launch, last year. Considering I’d never been
to high altitudes, I hoped I wasn’t being overconfident. Traveling along this
railway I would cross passes more than twice as high as the highest point in
Australia.
Day
19 and 20: ALL day ABOARD
I woke with a splitting headache that
seemed to consume every inch of my head. It was my first taste of high altitude
travel and was to become my regular travel companion until fully acclimatizing
in Nepal, more than a week from now. Every day upon waking, I would have a
terrible headache and a head cold that wouldn't quit, hence the first thing I
did when I woke, was pop a couple of painkiller's followed by a couple of cold
& flu tabs just to get my head right. At these high altitudes and low
temperatures, I was unable to overcome the lingering effects of the cold that
had kept me indoors for a week in Beijing.
Holding my head for fear it will crack
like a cold egg put in hot water, I check the time on my travel alarm clock my
brother in law Justin had given me almost 4 years earlier when I'd left for
Japan. I realize with surprise that it is 8am, yet outside, the sun has still
not risen. When it finally does peep over the hills at 9.00am (a result of
China imposing it's time on Tibet), the dramatic change in scenery that has
already taken place is revealed. Watching the sunrise from the picture window,
I marvel at the Dr Seuss like landscape around me, glowing red in the morning
sunlight, and blue in its shadow. For a while we rush through short tunnels that
cut through rolling hills every 30 seconds or so. An electronic thermometer
blinking above the door shows the outside temperature to be a chilly -18°C.
For two days I sit staring out this
window, transfixed by the slowly changing scenery that rolls before my eyes.
Trees become shrubs, shrubs become grass, grass becomes dirt and dirt becomes
covered by a thin layer of ice. The mountain tops grow closer, as the train
slowly creeps higher and higher. Eighty percent of track is at altitudes of
4,000 meters or more; there are 675 bridges, and over half the length of
the railway is over permafrost, where freezing and annual thaws sends ground
heaving in all directions.
The train is scheduled to stop at nine
scenery viewing platforms to allow passengers to appreciate the unique and
stunningly beautiful scenery along the way. Yuzhu Peak station is the first of
these platforms and is already at 4159 meters. From here the Yuzu peak of the
Kunlun Mountains, one of the highest peaks of the biggest mountain system in
China, can be seen. Chuma’er River Station, a further 340 meters up, is the
second stop and is situated on the Tibet antelope migration path for which the next
bridge was built. The bridge is 2,565 meters long with 78 arches for the Tibet
antelope to pass under. Further on the Qingshuihe bridge disappears into the
haze. At 11.7 kilometers it is the longest railway bridge in the world. Another
50 meters in elevation brings us to the TuoTuo River Station, the source of
Chinas longest river. The turbulent Yangtze originates from this broad,
glittering highland river and surges all the way to the East Sea. Climbing
upwards to 4,823 meters we get to the Bugiangge Station, surrounded by vast tundra
and snow-capped mountains sparkling brightly against a crystal blue sky. 5,068 meters,
the highest pass along the railway, is at Tanggulz Station from where the
highest peak of the Tangula Mountain spears into the sky like a giant antenna
on the roof of the world. At this elevation, air contains half the oxygen as at
sea level, my head throbs and I take another ineffective painkiller. Down the
other side of the pass, at 4,594, is CoNag Lake Station. The holy alpine lake,
glimmering like a pearl, reflects with clarity the snow-capped mountains and
the blueness of the sky. We roll into Nagqu Station, 4,513 meters, as the sun
sinks in the sky, its glare tempered now. In summer, the fertile highlands are
covered in endless lush green grass and the annual horse racing festival is
held here. The grasses are gone now, giving instead an impression of endless
desolation. The first yaks I've ever seen dot the landscape, grazing on moss
and drinking from half frozen streams. A yak herder, with no sign of
civilization in sight, sits amongst his herd. We stop at two more stations
after sunset. The occasional light flickers from a small settlement etched into
the base of a barren foothill. The highway that connects China to Tibet, first
built in 1950 to support the Chinese People’s Liberation Army when they marched
into Tibet, runs parallel with the railway now and we follow it the rest of the
way into Lhasa. After dark, 47 hours and 28 minutes later, covering 4,064 km, the
train rolls into Lhasa’s new railway station.
Two
minutes later I’m in a taxi, not bothering to haggle with the taxi drivers only
slightly unreasonable price. ‘Enjoy your time in Lhasa now,’ says the driver as
we leave the station. ‘Next time you come, it might not be Lhasa anymore. That train
changes everything; Tibet is not a secret land any longer.’ The impact the
railway is bound to have on the fragile Tibetan culture has been well
documented. The concern is less about foreign tourists and more to do with the
increased number of Chinese workers the train will bring. Indeed only a handful
of Tibetans were among the passengers on my train and none that I could see, worked
on board, or at Lhasa’s massive new station. The nephew of the Dalai Lama
angrily called it "the second invasion of Tibet.” ‘They will take our jobs
and our houses,’ the driver continues ‘just like they already did our land’ he
shook his head sadly.
Tags: tibet, adventures
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