The Key to Lhasa

Getting into Tibet is tricky business.  Actually, it’s not so tricky if you have money, something which I needed to spread very thinly for the long journey ahead.  I learned the difference between what I actually needed (which turned out to be very little) and what I wanted (which was to  become less and less each day).  I’d discovered a hell of a lot over the last 18 months.  It turned out that I knew little about who I thought I was; that the world was indeed round; most people resist the experience of uncertainty with the illusion of control; despite recent advances in rubber compound technology, it was still more profitable to make bicycle tyres that last only a fraction of the distance they could otherwise be designed for and, any instinctual move with the potential to screw up your entire life is definitely worth taking!  Definitely!  Still, what resonated most was the discovery of the system I’d unknowingly begun to step out of and, with that, I began to see bounds which I never knew existed.

I’d become a bit of a travelling pilgrim, a self proclaimed artist of sorts, making connections, formulating answers to which I had no questions, putting together pieces of an infinite and mysterious puzzle to which I had no image.  But, when it came to money, I began to self indulgently resent it.  People incessantly worshipped it, talked about it, wanted to know about it.  Some people valued it more than friendships, more than family, more than their freedom.  Of course we would all like to think that we are not ‘those‘ people, but it’s the choices that we make that answer that question for us – not our egos.  It divided those that have and those that have not on a basis without humanity. I often found myself wondering if I could do this trip without it.  I’d heard of people travelling the world without money and the joys they discovered from not being confined by it.  It intrigued me.

I’d begun to discover that we are born into a world of paradigms from which, for some people, it is sometimes hard to consider any alternative.  Imagine living in a society where we believed the world was flat and those going in search of anything else (remember we are ‘certain’) were doomed to failure or would simply fall off the face of the earth!  The only thing I am now certain of, is that there is none. It’s part of that illusion – recall the world was flat not that long ago!  Other than providing a means for the exchange of services, money does little for us other than distract from the truth that many of us have become slaves to it.  It provides a neurotic basis for the continued self perpetuating pursuit of it.  It’s unfortunate and very sad indeed. I’m writing here in gross generalities of course and I can hear many buried deep in the system crying out.  It’s just an observation – there is no truth except the one that you ‘hold’ for yourself. My father remarked just the other day something along the lines of “That’s rich coming from someone with no responsibilities”.  It made me smile, not because I had any answers but because I had none.  But there’s always a choice, even if we can’t see past it.  Imagine trying to go back in time with the message the world was round!  What a fool you’d be!  Chances are you’d be locked up!

I’d learned to go without and I found I was becoming much happier for it.  But, to get through Tibet, it would be expensive.  The alternative was to cycle towards Kazakhstan, but I would miss the enigmatic beauty of the Indian Subcontinent.  In Tibet I not only had to pay for a babysitter (also known in Tibet as a “guide”), but I also needed a Tibet Entry Permit, an Alien Travel Permit and a Military Permit (to travel through ‘closed’ border areas), as well as permission to visit Everest Base Camp.  All these cost money, but for the slow cyclist the clincher is the long time needed to cross Tibet.  Oh, and of course, the ‘guide’ also needs a car and the car needs a driver and fuel.  Both these two need to stay in hotels and need to eat.  I had barely enough money to feed myself good food - damned if I was going to pay the babysitters!  It’s a cash cow for the Chinese Government, funded by tourists.  And here it was to remain.  I needed to find a cheaper way in.

Sneaking into Tibet had its allure.  I spent a lot of time speaking with cyclists who’d been through Tibet, getting the latest on the situation and locations of the checkpoints I could possibly sneak through at night. The advice was conflicting, as was the latest on the more recent crackdown of foreigners allowed into Tibet.  Sneaking in was definitely tempting but, when I hadn’t heard of anybody successfully getting into Tibet via the eastern highways in several years, I decided to explore alternatives.  In Laos, I heard of a guy who was organising a trip to Mt Kailash in far Western Tibet.

Mt Kailash is the holiest of mountains for both the Buddhist, Hindu and ancient Bon religions.  It’s said to be  the source of many of Central Asia’s greatest rivers included the Ganges and Brahmaputra.  I contacted this man through the internet.  His name was ‘Hutch,’ a 70 year-old cycling pilgrim.  Hutch had lived in China for some years, made some connections and managed to secure an invitation from the Lhasa Government to cycle Tibet.  The best part was that, although the southern route had been closed to foreigners for a number of years, it appeared as though it might be open for us.  This was an opportunity too good to miss.  I headed straight for Lijiang to spend a few weeks helping with the preparations.