In Lhasa I’m surrounded by tourists, tour groups, travel agencies and Western restaurants. With so many backpacker amenities I figured it would be a snap to organize an overland trip to the Nepalese border. My first day here I met a Chinese-American woman in my dorm room named Sui who I immediately clicked with. We are both traveling for a long time and she’s also heading to Nepal on the same sort of schedule as me. When we asked around everyone was leaving much sooner than we wanted so we decided to wait, see the sights, and worry about organizing a group in a few days.

Most people heading to Nepal hire a 4×4 landcruiser with four or five people. Local transport is sparse, often requires special permits and doesn’t go to all of the sights so it’s the best option. With Sui I had a group of two and we answered many ads placed by other travelers but for some reason our plans always fell through.

More than half of the travelers didn’t answer our replies at all. The other half either had a totally different trip in mind or found someone else before we managed to commit to them. Finally we placed our own ad at a few of the guesthouses with our proposed itinerary. It’s possible to get to Nepal in two days but most people take a four day trip, stopping at a monastery or two and Everest Base Camp. We wanted to take a six or seven day trip including a monastery named Samye, which is not quite on the usual route.

Our posting generated a round of responses, mostly from people who didn’t want to drive the same route or wanted to leave earlier or later than we did. We were somewhat flexible, but needed at least a day to plan and get permits so we couldn’t leave early. By that point we’d been in Lhasa for almost week so we didn’t want to sit around waiting for new arrivals to get their taste of the town. One couple we met with told us that they would go with us if the other group, who they’d only contacted via email, declined.

One morning a flighty, timid older woman came into my dorm room holding our posting. My initial reaction was horror—why would she take down our posting? She then proceeded to ask me the basic facts that were written boldly on the posting. What day were we leaving (she wanted to leave earlier). how many days would we drive (she wanted four, not seven). Once we’d established that she should never have bothered answering our ad, let alone taken it down, I asked her to put it back up. She agreed.

The next day, after a few more failed grouping attempts, we found a note in our room asking to meet. It sounded good and Sui and I anxiously attended the proposed meeting. Who do I find sitting in the office? The ad stealer! I was surprised to see her because we had already determined that we had different plans. She had a group of three together and suggested a plan to us, almost the opposite of what she had initially wanted. While she was talking I looked over and saw a clear folder with her notes… and our ad! She had never put the ad back.

At that point Sui and I knew that it wasn’t going to work out. We still went down to check out the proposed Landcruiser and waited for over thirty minuted while the woman and her new friend went outside. We began to grow impatient and I assumed they were having a conference about us and our plans. When she came back up to the office she told us she wasn’t interested, she wanted to stay even longer in Lhasa, and asked to speak to the third member of their new group outside. Something was up and at that point we knew that we didn’t want to travel for any length of time with that group. We left them and our ad and began to look for new postings.

By now we were getting short on time if we wanted to leave by the 25th and started to worry that we wouldn’t find anyone else. We met so many people that already had groups—we even wondered if we shouldn’t have mentioned that we were American. While I was walking around town I noticed one guy looking at our posting and introduced myself. He agreed to meet to talk with us and a couple who’d answered our ad. Just before the meeting time we received an email saying they’d just made other plans. The single guy was in, but we needed at least four people to make the trip affordable.

Later that day another couple answered our ad and proposed a meeting. They turned out to be a nice middle-aged Dutch couple with a definite plan in mind. The only problem was that they only wanted four people and wouldn’t take the single guy we’d met before. We needed to look out for ourselves at this point but we decided to wait to make a decision and try for more open minded people. The couple agreed to wait until 10 that night to hear from us before making other plans.

We answered ads which didn’t work out. We left notes on people’s hotel doors and ran to hotels to find people who we’d “heard”were looking to leave on the 26th. Finally, we told the single guy that we would try again in the morning and meet at 12. If we found someone else we would go with him. If we didn’t we would go with the Dutch couple. In the meantime we’d left a note on the couple’s door, explaining our plans. They left a note agreeing.

Sui left early this morning to find the couple we’d heard about. she didn’t manage to find them, but found another single guy who was interested. We all met at 12, put a down payment on a tour and ironed out the itinerary. The dutch couple was out and I was set to drive to Nepal with a Californian, an Israeli and a Frenchman. Because we’re all single travelers it should be a good group. It’s set.

We’re heading for Samye, a monastery East of Lhasa before heading down to Nepal by way of a few monasteries, forts and, of course, Everest Base Camp. I’ll be in touch again in a week, please have a wonderful Halloween on my behalf.

Tibet isn’t the most obvious destination from Central Asia, but it’s where I wanted to go next. Although there is a road from Kashgar through Western Tibet it’s illegal for foreigners to travel and can be quite dangerous. While I was in Central Asia I tossed the idea of hitchhiking on a truck around but in the end I decided that it was getting too cold to be going over 5,000 meter passes in a truck that might break down, on a road that I might be turned around on by the police.

Because of the plateau and mountains the closest road to Lhasa started in Golmud, a few days away by train. Even with three day notice I wasn’t able to buy a hard sleeper train ticket so I ride in the hard seat car from Urumqi to Dunhuang—12 hours. The lights never turned off and every time I woke up from a brief nap I found someone new sitting across from me. Sometimes they were just staring at me and eating sunflower seeds. Others talked loudly to or listening to music (without headphones) on their mobile. I didn’t sleep much at all.

Because the train to Dunhuang doesn’t actually go to Dunhuang I grabbed a shared taxi for 1.5 hours to town. Unfortunately, the next bus leaving for Golmud wouldn’t be until 7:30pm so I had a day to kill in Dunhuang. In-between eating I spent a lot of time walking around town. I just wanted to sit and read but every time I sat down I fell asleep. And even though I hadn’t slept in a long time I had a hard time sleeping during the bumpy bus ride to Golmud.

When we arrived in town an hour earlier than expected I was overcome with confidence that I was going to make the 6:41am train to Lhasa. During phase 1 I was excited to go to Tibet because I would be beating this very train. At the time the railroad wasn’t finished and was projected to open in 2007. This railway line is very controversial because it’s built partially on permafrost through lands with rare wildlife and a delicate ecosystem. I felt a tinge of guilt taking it for that reason and because it will bring more Han Chinese tourists and businesses into Tibet, further decimating the local culture. My other option was a 30 hour bus ride with almost guaranteed break downs along the way.

A man approached me while I was getting my bag off the bus and told me he worked in Tibet. I suggested that we walk to the train station together and get some tickets. During the two block walk I explained that I had no ticket and that I wanted him to buy me one. He didn’t completely understand but when I refused to go inside the ticket office he came out and said “oh, I help you buy the ticket, okay!”

You see, I was trying my luck and hoping to get on the train without a Tibet Permit. Permits are required of all foreigners entering Tibet. It’s easier to enter Tibet from China than Nepal, but it still involves a lot of extra cost. There’s no official statement regarding the price of the permit, but it can range from $6 — $70 depending on where you get it. All flights to Lhasa include this “permit” which the foreign traveler will never see. Going by land, you’re required to buy a “tour” from an agency for around $200 before buying a bus or train ticket.

Because the permit rules are all over the place I thought that I might be able to get away with just getting on the train. I knew that I wouldn’t be sold a ticket without a permit, but my new Chinese friend easily bought two tickets for us. We were an hour early and I spent the time keeping my head down and avoiding the stares of the many policemen standing around the departure hall. I kept telling myself not to worry, at the most they would not let me on the train. And if I was turned back I would just have to suck it up and pay for the permit.

The announcement for the train came and we lined up. My Chinese friend took my ticket to the front to be punched by the attendant. The line started to move and no one stopped me. I made it onto the platform and through the ticket check at the carriage door. I was in. But we weren’t moving and I wasn’t going to gloat until we were heading up into Tibet. My seat partner was a Tibetan monk who sat barefoot and crosslegged, chanting in my ear for the first few hours. After the attendants and police had passed me many times I began to let my guard down, changed seats and settled in for the 14 hour trip, permit-less.

My compartment had all of the few Tibetans on the train and consequently smelled of sheep and yak butter. As I passed from car to car the difference in smell was noticeable. This railway is the highest in the world and uses many pioneering technologies. This is what the English announcements told me while we ascended to over 5,000 meters. I’m not as confidant in Chinese building methods and would rather the railroad had been a year late being built than over a year early. But the ride was smooth and I didn’t feel the altitude unless I tried to take a big breath. I tried out the disposable breathing tube I was given, which attached to an oxygen source under my seat. Despite announcements some passengers smoked inside the carriages while the oxygen was running. I do give them credit for not actually wearing the oxygen while smoking—that wouldn’t have surprised me in the least.

We passed by Namtso Lake, the highest fresh water lake in the world. Once we were at that height packs of antelope, horses and yaks ran alongside the train. Closer to Lhasa we started to see a few small towns and herders tending to their flocks. All of the Chinese tourists were straining to take photos of the wildlife while the Tibetans continued chanting and touching their prayer beads.

We sped through the last two hours in the dark at 94km an hour, racing toward Lhasa. When we arrived my Chinese friend took care of me, leading me onto the bus to to town and then onto another local bus. He didn’t do so hot getting me to the right area of town but I was able to shake him and find a taxi for the final leg. Now I’m in Lhasa, walking among the pilgrims while they twirl their prayer wheels and bow incessantly in front of the most sacred temples. It’s cold, but the sun is warm and the sight of The Potala Palace is more than enough to have made the long journey worth it.

Backtracking again, I took the fast train (25 hours) from Kashgar to Urumqi and found it just as nice as the first time. Maybe it was because the national holiday just ended, but I have never seen a Chinese train so empty—none of the hard sleeper compartments had more than two people in them. My roommate was a middle-aged Chinese woman who spoke no English. Of course this didn’t stop her from feeding me grapes, oranges and pears and forcing me to take a nap during the day. She even covered me up with a blanket when she thought I was asleep. I must have kept her up during the night with my cough because in the morning she forced me to take some dubious-looking medicine and insisted I keep an entire package of throat drops.

My next door neighbor was a 21-year old girl who spoke basic English. Her language skills were better than most “English speaking” Chinese I meet although she apologized throughout the hours we spent talking. Everyone I meet asks me what I like about China and what I think about it. It’s hard to say, the third time around I’ve decided that it seems to be getting a little cleaner and a little more organized. This change of tune may be influenced by the bureaucracy of Central Asia and may be due to the Muslim influence on hygiene in Xinjiang. I did say that the main thing that I don’t like about China is that it’s dirty. The next morning she came back to tell me that, when discussing what I said with her grandfather, he told her it’s not just a social problem but an economic problem. Maybe, but there are a lot of rich people in China these days.

Even though Urumqi, China isn’t a huge tourist destination I really enjoyed my four nights here. Just like the eight days I spent waiting for my Kyrgyz visa two months ago, I spent my time getting massages, buying DVDs and eating some KFC. The longer I travel the more I appreciate these little Western luxuries.

My second time in Urumqi was better than the first, mostly due to the fact that David was in town this time. Most people make fun of me for my internet addiction but many good things come of it. I have met quite a few travelers through my site and David is one of them. He’s been living in Urumqi for a few years now and opened his apartment (and wireless internet!) up to me while I was in town. Although we first met through our mutual blogs (check his out here) we met in person in Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia during the Naadam festival back in July.

Because I was in a comfy apartment with internet access and good company I stayed two extra days in Urumqi. I have to admit, I think I’ve been fooling some of you out there who don’t know me well. While I’ve been writing about the madressas of Uzbekistan and driving around remote Tajikistan I’ve been preoccupied with something other than my surroundings—the new fall TV season. It’s true, I miss my shows. There’s a few that left off on a cliffhanger, Supernatural and The Office come to mind, and I just had to know what happened.

So while I had the opportunity I downloaded some TV, like the first new episode of The Office, off of iTunes. It wasn’t that easy—to download the episode I first had to download the newest version of iTunes and to play the episode I had to download the newest Quicktime. All of this takes a lot of time on a Chinese internet connection and m y old G3 computer. To add insult to injury, once I downloaded everything I discovered that my five-year old computer’s processor isn’t fast enough to play anything on the new Quicktime.

After all of that time I’ve only managed to listen to the new Office, but even that made me feel a little better. It’s okay, besides, I spent a bit of my time in Dushanbe, Tajikistan reading up on spoilers for all of my shows anyway. That goes to show that as far away form “the real world” I get I’ll always find a way to keep up on the little things that remind me of home.

Besides getting my TV fix I took care of other pressing matters, like getting a massage. My first night in town David and I went out for dinner and massage. I didn’t know that you could get an actual massage at a massage parlor until 2am. His friend met us and we opted for the foot wash, which turned out to be a foot soak in Chinese medicine and a leg and back massage lasting 90 minutes. Not bad. We went back for another massage a few days later, this time with one of his roommates and her two sisters. We all got the 90 minute massage, which was unlike any massage I’ve had before. Because “I’m not too thin” I was given the massage almost completely by foot. The young girl stood above me balancing on metal bars attached to the ceiling. It was great because a lot of pressure was applied without the squeezing that always leaves me a little sore. She even did a little twisting and pulling, much like thai massage. At the end she used hot sandbags on my back while scratching it and then cradled me on the front of her legs, rocking me back and forth on the hot bag.

Staying near the University and Uigur district I enjoyed a lot of restaurants and city life I would otherwise not seen. It was especially interesting to spend time with his two Uigur roommates who were more Western than many of the Chinese girls I meet. I even think I managed to get one hooked on Supernatural after she professed her love of Buffy. We also met up for a game of ultimate frisbee with some of David’s local friends and expats who are either in town teaching English or studying at the University. I didn’t think I would do very well with a frisbee, let alone in the rain on asphalt but I didn’t sabotage our team too much. Overall my time in Urumqi recharged me after being worn down by the bad roads, the bad internet and the bad governments of Central Asia.

After sitting around in Osh, Daniel (the Australian thrid of Team America—the name they made up for our three-person travel group in Tajikistan), flew into town and in a whirlwind I was on a bus to Kashgar. Because there was an actual bus we were pretty sure that the border was open. We never got a confirmation on the border re-opening date but we were on schedule to cross into China on the 9th.

Around 8pm, when the bus was supposed to leave, we began to get on board. Another passenger who was late tried to make me move to the back of the bus, where five beds were laid out, but I refused. I was not about to spend the night squished between four smelly Kyrgyz, Uzbek or Chinese men. You’d be surprised what shrugging your shoulders and shaking your head can do when traveling—it’s gotten me out of some uncomfortable situations.

Around 9:30, after negotiating the sell of the remaining beds and filling up with gas, we set off toward Sary Tash and the Chinese border. Neither of us slept much at all because the road is only technically paved and it’s pretty bumpy in most places.

Somewhere around 3am we stopped and I peed in a frozen ditch on top up a mountain pass surrounded by snow and illuminated by a nearly full moon.

At 4am the lights were suddenly flipped on and everyone arround me began to furiously devor loafs of bread and bottles of Fanta—fasting for Ramadan was about to begin. A little while later a bit of music was played to signify sun-up. I was glad Daniel suggested one Snickers was not enough, encouraging me to buy more. One Snickers is never enough in Central Asia.

Although every long-distance bus I take stops all the time, this one barely stopped at all. We didn’t stop to eat (because everyone else was fasting) and we didn’t have many toilet stops because the fasting even includes water. By 7:30am when we arrived at the first Kyrgyz border checkpoint I knew I should go to the bathroom but didn’t think a militray zone was the best place to go off along the road. We were stopped for an hour while the bus driver delieverd a huge stack of passports, each filled with a 500com bribe. Daniel and I refused to put a bribe in our passports. We waited.

The drive to the Kyrgyz border was only thirty more minutes and I was excited to get there so early. I nievely assumed that because we got to the border when it opened we would get through both borders before lunch. While we waited I ran off into the shanty town near the border to deliver photos of the local kids I had taken exactly two month earlier. People in Central Asia rarely have photos of themselves and family photos are cherised. But the town was nearly deserted and the trailer of the little girl who stars in my photos was padlocked. I found a woman nearby who seemed to agree to deliver the photos—the family had gone to Osh for the winter.

The border gate opened and we drove inside, only to be ushered into a shed to wait for passport control. A bus full of people can take a long time to cross a border and we waited for everyone to be checked. There is about 10km of “no-man’s land” before reaching the Chinese border where we were stopped at a Chinese checkpoint. Usually you just show your passport and are logged into a book but we were all required to get off the bus.

Looking back toward Kyrgyzstan, a Chinese tower with a bright red flag billowed in front of a panorama of white mountaintops. All of the passengers were lined up in single file and told to put their luggage in front of them. I joked to the man next to me that it looked like they were going to shoot us but he was busy taking all of the contents of his bag out and spreading them onto the pavement. Apparently we had been instructed to take everything out for inspection but I decided to play the foreigner card and leave my bag closed. Besides, I prefer not to advertise how many expensive things I carry with me.

The Chinese military guards moved down the line looking at everything. The man next to me had what looked like a jar of mayonaise. He has to take a tast of it for the guard. Another man to my right sat while the guard took everything apart, reading personal letters and even then notes from medicine packaging. When he came to me I opened the main compartment of my day bag and pointed to a few things and opened the lid of my camera bag. He pointed to my big backpack and I made a bid deal out of opening it up for him, like he was really requiring a lot of me. He looked at the bag at the top (my toiletries) and let me go. It was all for appearances.

We pulled up at the Chinese border around 11:30 local time (1:30 Beijing time) and filled out the required forms, proclaiming not to have SARS. Daniel got as far as passport control but as the officer began to lower the stamp to his passport he stopped and declared that the border was closed for the next two and a half hours. I tried to explain to the English-speaking offical that we were tired and hungry and that he should let us go. With that everyone in the building cleared out, leaving us sitting on our bags. Four Swiss bicyclists rode up and had to wait was well, jeapardizing their plans to make it 50k into China that day.

The time passed quickly. I wrote in my journal, tried to get the muslim women to eat grapes (aka contraband plant matter in China) and didn’t use the public toilet. When the time came to line up everyone pushed to the front and I was suddenly at the end of the line. I was a little worried that I would pass the temperature test because I had a bit of a cold lingering from Tajikistan. But when I looked into the 6 foot tall scanner my temperature was well under the required 38 degrees.

It took a while to x-ray and then load up everyone massive luggage and we waited in the sun to finally leave to Kashgar. It turned out that over half of the bus passengers decided to take taxis from the border to Kashgar, saving themselves an hour or so. It amazes me that these people decided to take the bus but then were able to afford guard bribes and Chinese taxis.

The rest of the ride to Kashgar was uneventful, aside from a Japanese man being repremanded for peeing on the side of the road in front of a Chinese border control post. Good thing I held out! The bus ride was expensive ($50) and quite a hassle. If I ever find myself crossing that border again I’m taking a taxi.

Today I finally found where to buy fresh bread near my gueshouse in Osh. The directions I was given were classic:

Take a right after walking past the garbage cans and mini market. From there look for the Kyrgyzstan Resturaunt on your right. The sign is in Russian. In-between Kyrgyzstan Resturaunt and Kyrgyzstan Cafe there’s an alley with a toilet. Walk past the toilet and you will find a hole in the wall where the bread oven is.

Sure enough, I took a right at the first sign of a toilet and there was my fresh bread. Bananas are a touch more expensive in Osh than Bishkek (20 com/ 0.52 cents) but I found a good one this morning. I sat in front of the TV watching BBC World, CNN and World Fashion while eating my chocolate banana breakfast. Everyone working at the guesthouse is fasting for Ramadan but I’m not letting that deter me from hot bread in the morning. In fact, because I am apparently a horrible person, I secretly enjoy eating in front of fasting people.

In Osh I have only seen Diet Coke in one resturaunt, never for sale on the street. There is Diet Pepsi, and I’ve given in and bought a few. The street I’m staying on is littered with outdoor cafes where mediocre Central Asian “food” is served almost 24 hours. Because of this I’ve been lazy about going to the Western places on the other side of town. I tried to find pizza the other day but when I walked in the woman looked at me and said “niet pizza!”

Now that my new visa in firmly stuck in my passport I am spending most of my time in the guesthouse working on my web site. I’ve uploaded a few new things but have a lot more I can do. Every few hours I leave my room and turn on World Fashion to bother the guys working there. It’s a fashion channel but whenever I turn it on an underwear special is on. One of the guys called it a “sex channel” which I thought was pretty funny. They thought they got rid of all the “sex channels” on their cable. They could get HBO, E! and Cartoon Network but haven’t sprung for the extra fees. Every once in a while I scroll by just to see E! pop up… it takes very little to amuse me after this many months on the road.

and China won’t let me in.

Tajikistan started and ended on bad notes (waiting for permits in Dushanbe… almost getting into a fight with the militsia in Murgab and projectile vomiting at 3,800 meters), but everything in-between was completely amazing.

I flew on a tiny 17-seater plane with no computers on board. We soared through mountain passes and followed a gorge marking the Tajik–Afghan border. Two days later, after my homestay owner, Gulnara, cornered me and dyed my eyebrows, we left with our Pamiri driver in an old army green Russian UAZ jeep for Ishkashim. Because the weather was perfect we drove the route through the Wakhan Corridor to Murgab in three days instead of our planned four.

Along the way we stayed with our driver’s friends and ate more cabbage soup than I felt comfortable with. I blame the cabbage soup and lack of actual Coca-Cola for my demise into projectile vomiting our second day in Murgab. By then we kind of had electricity in the form of a generator, were all more than ready for some “civilization.” It’s pretty bad when Sary Tash, Kyrgyzstan looks like civilization.

Along the way we heard from one of the few others travelers we met that the Chinese border had been closed for it’s national holiday. We refused to believe that they would close the border for ten days—just think of all of the scrap metal they’re missing out on importing! Unfortunately, it turned out to be true although the re-oppening date has still not been confirmed. This morning I called the U.S. embassy in Bishkek who told me they have no information on the Chinese border and suggested I call the Chinese embassy. When I called the Chinese embassy and asked if they spoke English I was immediately hung up on.

Besides wasting my time (and money) as Tibet gets colder, this border closing is a major visa problem for me. I bought a Kyrgyz transit visa in Dushanbe that is only valid from October 2nd through the 6th—during which the border is closed. I have head rumors that the border will open on the 8th, 9th, 10th or 11th, so my visa will be invalid well before I can cross to China.

I went by a travel agent today to ask about flights to Urumqi. The agent started with “There are two airlines flying to China. One of them has just been arrested so your options are limited.” After a lot of searching it turned out that there were no seats on any of the flights until late October, let alone by this Friday so I can not leave Kyrgyzstan by air. I’ve thought about going through Kazakstan, but by the time I get to Bishkek, apply for a Kazak visa and take the train from Almaty to Urumqi I would be better off sitting in Osh and waiting for the border to open.

So, here I am in Osh… again. I’ve heard there’s a resturaunt that serves pizza. I just don’t know if I can stomach any more shashlick, plov, lagman or gulash after two months of the stuff. I’m certainly staying away from any cabbage soup. I don’t know when China became a promised land for me but I’m dying for some KFC.

There’s a lot of US Aid goods being recycled in Tajikistan. I’m not sure if they were given to Tajikistan or Afghanistan but it’s nice to see my tax dollars at work in this part of the world.