Trekking in Shangri-la: Over the pass to Shudu Lake

Shudu Lake (蜀都湖 shǔdū hú)

After a pretty restful night at Mr. Tian’s guesthouse, we had a breakfast of instant noodles. We also spent time boiling water and filling our water bottles for the days’ trek. Mr. Tian was amused that we were bringing so much water. We each had about three liters in Platypus water bags. He told us the trek would be about 6-8 hours and we would be climbing up and over a more than 13,000 foot pass.

As we were anxious to get going, Mr. Tian told us how to get to the bridge that crossed the river and where the trail began. He was getting his horse ready when we took off. We planned to wait for him and his party if we were not sure which way to go.

The guesthouse was up on the side of the valley, so we had to wind down through the village to the river. The farmhouses were clustered together with fields of barley between them. As the village was on the slopes of a mountain, many of the fields were terraced. We passed several  racks used for drying barley.

Along the way we met an old man taking his pigs out to the pasture for the day. He didn’t speak a word of Chinese, so there was not much communication other than some smiles and waves.

After winding our way through the farmhouses we found the bridge crossing the Niru River.

Niru River bridge

After crossing the bridge the trail passed two large piles of mani stones. We decided to take a break here and wait for Mr. Tian and his clients. Niru Village is in the background. While waiting, the old man with the pigs herded his pigs into a nearby pasture.

photo by Michael Paul

After waiting for awhile, Mr. Tian and his clients showed up. One was a young American guy from Brown University who was doing research on the economic effects of the National Park on Tibetan villages in the area. He had three young Chinese students with him that were serving as research assistants. I believe they were from Yunnan University. The American guy carried a large, cumbersome backpack, but the Chinese guys just had little day packs. The horse carried the rest of their gear. We chatted for a few minutes, then Michael and I took off. We found out very soon that even though the horse was carrying most of their things, they were hiking very slow. Michael and I are both experienced backpackers, so this was nothing new to us.

Looking back at Niru

The trail swithbacked up the side of the mountain for about 2 miles before turning into a side canyon. High up on the mountainside we had a good view of the Nanbao pastures across the valley. It would have been really nice to be able to hike up there, but that will have to wait for a future trip.

Nanbao pastures from across the valley

Turning into the side canyon

The trail up this valley was green and lush. We knew we were headed up to a 13,000 foot pass, but we were having a hard time picturing it with all this lush greenery. Occasionally a Tibetan with pack horses would pass us on the trail. In the Mountain West region of the United States where we live, anything above about 10,500 feet is rocky, barren, and devoid of almost all plant life.

After a couple more miles we came to some small pastures. On the edge of one of these pastures was a log cabin, just like you might see out the Western United States from pioneer times. We decided to take a break here and wait for Mr. Tian and the others. There was a crudely written sign on the front of the cabin saying visitors were welcome to stay there. Mr. Tian later explained to us that there are similar cabins scattered throughout the mountains for yak herders to stay in when the weather turns bad. It did not look like the cabin would keep much out, but I suppose it would be better than being outside in a storm.

The trail soon left the valley and began climbing steeper again. It switchbacked up a steep mountainside to another higher meadow area.

High mountain pasture (about 12,600')

Finally, after about five or six hours of hiking we arrived at the pass. And we were very surprised to find it as lush and green as the surrounding valleys we had passed through earlier. We later learned that in this area of Southwest China there are several long, deep river valleys that run South to North. Warm, moist air and storms from tropical Burma and further south keep these valleys wet and green. Burma was less than 75 miles from here.

A cabin on the pass at 13,057' (3980 m)

We rested here taking in the fine views. Mr. Tian spent some time digging for medicinal roots.

Mr. Tian digging for medicinal roots

Mr. Tian and the others were razzing us for carrying so much water. Ironically, about 2/3 the way up to the pass, they were all out of water, and sheepishly asked us for some fluids. We had a couple bottles of Chinese sports drink that we were able to share with them. Maybe that’s why they were so slow.

A yak hanging out in the cabin at the pass

The trail descended quickly off the pass and back down into the forest. The lower we got the more yaks we began to see. Once we were out of the forest we could see an immense sea of pasture down below us. This was an important Winter pasture area for the Tibetan yak herders.

Hiking down to the pasture

The pasture was huge, stretching for miles in each direction. There were herds of yaks scattered all over the pasture. We learned from our Tibetan driver that most yaks are actually hybrids—a cross between cows and yaks. They seemed pretty docile, just watching us as we walked past. There were also more rustic cabins dotting the area.

On the far side of the pasture we came to a couple log structures that looked like they were intended to be stores, but were deserted, and in a state of disrepair. It was obvious that they had never been used after being built. It seemed as if this area was gearing up for tourism, but the infrastructure was not there, and maybe the tourists had just not shown up yet. There were no roads into this area and anyone wanting to come would have to walk or ride a horse for at least half a day or more.

We asked a local Tibetan if there was anywhere we could buy something to drink. He pointed to a cabin a little ways off with smoke rising from it. We walked over there and entered the cabin (Tibetans do not usually knock). Inside, the cabin was dark and smokey.  There were three men and a woman sitting around the fire talking and laughing. The woman jumped up when we entered. Surprisingly, of all things she had for sale, she had cans of Pepsi. We each bought a can and went back out to the other cabins where our packs were. While resting there a couple Tibetan kids wandered over to see the foreigners. They didn’t say much. I don’t think they understood much Chinese, and our Tibetan was much better.

After resting up for a short time, we continued on our way. It was getting late and Mr. Tian told us that there were tourist busses at Shudu Lake that could take us back to the National Park entrance. He believed that the last bus left at 4:00 pm. We really wanted to get on that bus, as we were really hungry now. For the whole day we had subsisted on some coconut cookies, some peanuts, water, and Pepsi. We wanted to get back to Shangri-la and a proper meal.

The trail headed into a nice forest on the far side of the pasture, then began climbing again to a low pass. Once over the pass we could see the lake and pastureland below.

Looking down at Shudu Lake

We hiked pretty fast down the hillside to the marshy pastures below. We wanted to make sure we made that last bus. Once we got down to the pasture below, Mr. Tian unloaded his horse and began to set up camp. He was staying there for the night before returning to Niru the next morning. The pastures around the lake were full of wildflowers, Tibetan horses, and yaks. It was really wet as well. At times we would sink up past our ankles in the wet marshy grass.

Mr. Tian and a Tibetan friend setting up camp

It was a really beautiful and tranquil place. We had a pow-wow and discussed if we could possibly stay there at the meadows for the night. We were also making some contingency plans if we missed the last bus and had to spend the night there. We had warm clothing, but no sleeping bags. We had travel sheets (like a thin cotton sleeping bag), but that would not provide much protection. We also did not have any food. We could certainly survive a night and there were plenty of empty cabins around. We vowed that if we ever returned we would have lightweight camping gear with us, and plenty of food. We would have loved to stay longer and explore the area, but it was not looking like that would be feasible. Our first priority was to head across the long, marshy pasture to the far side where there supposedly was a parking area and tour busses.

The going was laborious as the ground was very wet. The grass was tall in places, and large, dense tufts of grass further slowed us down. The closer we got to the lake, the wetter the ground, but that was also the more direct route to where we needed to go. By the time we got across the pasture we were soaked from the knees down.

There was a large parking area, restrooms, and a visitors center. Fortunately, there were also several large coach busses there waiting. We climbed aboard a bus, relieved that we made it in time. The American young man and his Chinese companions arrived a short time later.

We learned that the way Chinese manage National Parks was quite different than what we were used to in the U.S. These large tour busses took tourists through the park, occasionally stopping at scenic areas where the tourists could get off and look around. Everyone then got back on the bus and rode to the next scenic spot. There were no camp grounds and no private cars. But were Tibetan camps around as this area has been an important yak grazing area for hundreds of years.

When we arrived at the entrance to the park, we were met by park officials who demanded we pay the entrance fee, which we thought was pretty steep for what you got. We were actually hoping we could by-pass the fee as we had entered the park through the back way, but there was no persuading them.

Getting back to Shangri-la was our next objective. Most all the busses were chartered for tourists and did not have room. We finally found a guy with a minivan who, for a price, agreed to take us to Shangri-la. It was about a two hour drive back to the city.

When we got back into town, we found a room at a small hotel, then headed to a nearby restaurant and had a large and satisfying meal of Chinese and Tibetan food. It was a very long day and the end of a very memorable trip. We have plans to return to the area but have not made any definite plans yet. Next time, we will be better prepared.

I hope you have enjoyed reading about this adventure.

Trekking in Shangri-la: Niru Village

After our breakfast of yak cheese, Tsampa, yak butter tea, and curdled milk, we hiked down off the bluff and back onto the road to Niru. It had rained during the night so there were mud puddles all over the road. It was a beautiful cool morning. After hiking for about an hour, we heard a truck approaching. We stepped aside as an old open bed truck pulled up. Standing in the back was the Tibetan girl we had breakfasted with, along with a dozen or so other Tibetans. They were all on their way back up to the mushroom fields. We climbed into the back of the truck and rode with them for about a half hour bumping and pitching along the rough road. When we reached their turn off, we climbed out, thanked them for the lift, and continued our trek.

We were really hungry. The previous day we had only eaten a bowl of instant noodles, some snacks, and a light dinner of stir fried squash and potatoes with our gracious hosts. This valley was certainly much less developed than we anticipated. Our original plan was to hike up into the high mountain Summer pastureland where the local Tibetans herd their yaks. This was looking unlikely as food was proving to be difficult to obtain. The locals were not used to seeing foreigners, or any outsiders for that matter, and were thus hesitant to offer assistance. A farmer we had met the previous day told us that they were developing this valley for tourism with guesthouses, stores, and so on, but that time had not yet arrived.

Hiking the road to Niru Village

Late morning we arrived at an area identified by a sign as 关门山 guānmén shān. This translates loosely as “Close the door Mountain,” probably referring to the narrowness of the valley, seemingly closed off by this rocky peak. The valley narrowed to just a hundred yards wide or so. To the left was a towering rocky peak seemingly blocking off the canyon. Just as we arrived at the base of the peak, the road turned sharply right. The river raged through this narrow part of the canyon. Another turbulent river flowed down from the mountains on the right joining with the Niru River. A narrow bridge, about the width of a single lane crossed this tributary. The river was so high, it tumbled just inches below the wooden bridge.

关门山 guānmén shān "Close the door Mountain"

Unknown tributary flowing into the Niru River

We had studied some old black and white photographs from the legendary Joseph Rock on one of his expeditions in the late 19th Century. This area seemed to match some of his photographs. There was a small shelter here where we took a break enjoying the roaring of the rivers.

We still were not quite sure what to expect in Niru Village proper. I think we still had hopes that there would be a store, and maybe even a restaurant where we could fill up. All we knew is that the kids told us it was about a five hour walk to the village.

Once we passed through this beautiful narrow canyon, the road began to climb. We climbed steadily for about two hours before the valley began opening up. At a high point on the road, we came to two large piles of mani stones.

Mani stones are usually flat rocks on which is inscribed the six syllable mantra om mani padme hum. This mantra is associated with the bohhisattva of compassion, Avalokiteshvara. Mani means “the jewel” and padme means “the lotus.” The exact meaning of this mantra is tricky to translate. The Fourteenth Dalai Lama has interpreted it as,

“. . . the six syllables, om mani padme hum, mean that in dependence on the practice of a path which is an indivisible union of method and wisdom, you can transform your impure body, speech, and mind into the pure exalted body, speech, and mind of a Buddha[…]”

This is the mantra often mumbled by Tibetan Buddhists as they finger their prayer beads. It is said to be an indication of your devotion and brings merit to the individual. These stones sometimes form entire walls, or large piles and are often found along pilgrim routes, at junctions, overlooks, or other places considered auspicious. Devout Buddhists will circle these stone piles clockwise while chanting the mantra.

Mani stones

More mani stones

We took another break at the mani stone piles. While sitting along the road here a tractor with a couple individuals in the back, headed down the valley from Niru Village. We later found out the local school teacher was in this tractor heading to a funeral. We had hoped to speak with him about the education situation in the village, particularly the teaching and learning of Chinese among the Tibetans in this area.

In the early afternoon we finally arrived at the head of the valley and the small village of Niru. It was a lovely cluster of farms nestled among high peaks.

Entering Niru Village

The primary school was here at the head of the village. It provided schooling for all the kids up and down the valley. There were dormitories where the kids stayed during the week, then returned home on the weekends. We were disappointed that the teacher was not around, but we knew this was a distinct possibility since is was August and school was not in session. This is the school where the Tibetan kids we stayed with attended. They told us that all the kids in the school were Tibetan. They did learn Chinese in school, but Tibetan was the language of instruction.

Niru School

Just past the school we came to a dirty old wooden building. A couple people loitered out front. They informed us that this was a store. We entered the dimly lit ramshackle building to find a very basic store run by an older Tibetan woman. The only food available was instant noodles. We each bought two bowls, as well as some bottled water and Chinese sports drink.

The Niru Store

Outside the store a guy told us that there was a guesthouse just a short way up the valley and that he would give us ride in his tractor. It turns out that he was the brother-in-law of the guy who ran a very rustic guesthouse.

We were relieved to learn that we may have a bed for the night, and readily hopped into the back of the tractor trailer. In a few minutes we arrived at the guest house run by a man named Mr. Tian, a Han Chinese. In fact, he was the only Han Chinese person in this village of 658 resident Tibetans. He was originally from Tiger Leaping Gorge and had married a Tibetan woman from the village twenty years ago and had been living there ever since.

Approaching Mr. Tian's guesthouse

Mr. Tian and his wife were separated, so he ran this place on his own, and it showed. It was quite dirty, with rotting food laying around, dirty dishes scattered about, and in general disrepair. We were not complaining though, and Mr. Tian was a pretty interesting guy. It was a typical Tibetan wood-framed house, a courtyard on the ground floor for the animals, up a steep ladder/stairway to the second floor living quarters, and storage on the third floor. Inside the living area was an open fire pit for cooking. On one side of the main room was a row of single beds with basic frames made of 2X2’s. The beds had thick foam mattresses and appeared to be pretty clean.

Inside the guesthouse

The guesthouse courtyard from the second floor.

The proprietor, Mr. Tian

Mr. Tian told us that for about the past year, since the road was built, Chinese tourists were beginning to arrive. He had hosted one foreigner the year before. In our wandering around the village we found another guesthouse that was very large and newly built. There was one seemingly pretty rich Chinese family, parents and two kids, staying there.

Mr. Tian owned a horse and lead treks up to a waterfall and a lake in the area. In fact, he told us that he had been hired to lead three Chinese students and a foreigner up over a pass to Shudu Lake the next day. This is where we were headed as well, and he said we could tag along if we like. He told us we would never be able to find the trail without his help.

That afternoon we wandered around the village a bit. We also found the road/trail to the Summer pastures, called 南宝牧场 nánbǎo mùchǎng. According to Mr. Tian, it was a good eight to ten hire hike from the village up pretty steep trails.

The track leading to Nanbao pastureland. The pastures are the green swaths high in the mountains.

As much as we wanted to hike up there, we had so little food, and nowhere to buy more, other than instant noodles. And by this time we were really hungry. To go up there would be at least a three day trip: one day up, a day to explore, and a day back. We also were not too sure of our route over the mountain pass to Shudu Lake and back to Shangri-la.

Later that afternoon a couple of Mr. Tian’s Tibetan buddies showed up to hang out. I’m not sure what they did for work, and they were pretty reluctant to talk about it. They had passable Chinese. In fact, Mr. Tian’s Chinese was pretty heavily accented, not much better than the Tibetans. One of his friends carried a long, curved dagger on his belt. This is pretty typical of the Kham Tibetans in this area. They are also known for their horsemanship skills as well.

That evening Mr. Tian offered to cook us a meal. That morning he had picked some wild mushrooms. Then he went outside and picked fresh Sichuan peppercorns from a bush in his yard. Our meal consisted of stir-fried mushrooms with the fresh Sichuan peppercorns. (This area of Yunnan was literally right on the border of Sichuan Province). I had never eaten or even seen fresh Sichuan peppercorns. They are most often dried and are dark brown in appearance. This dish was pretty good, albeit there was not much. However, he used way too many peppercorns and by the time we were done, our mouths were literally numb. In Chinese cuisine there are two kinds of spicy, the regular spicy that we are used to, called 辣 là from the word 辣椒 làjiāo, meaning “chili pepper.” The other kind of heat is called 麻辣málà or “numb spicy.” This numbing spice comes exclusively from the Sichuan peppercorn, which is not a chili pepper, nor technically a peppercorn. It produces a pleasant (to some people) tingling, numbing sensation in the mouth.

Fresh Sichuan peppercorns

Freshly picked wild mushrooms

It was nice to have a meal, but it was pretty small and we were still hungry. We planned to get up the next morning and hike along with Mr. Tian and his clients up over the pass and down to Shudu Lake. This lake is within a new Chinese National Park called Pudacuo National Park 普达措国家公园 pǔdácuò guójiā gōngyuán. From there we hoped to hitch a ride back to Shangri-la.

Niru Village farmhouses

High peaks above Niru which also marks the border between Yunnan and Sichuan Provinces

TO BE CONTINUED. (One more post to finish this series)

Exploring Shangri-la

The city of Shangri-la looking toward the old town. Buddhist temple on the right and a huge prayer wheel on the left.

The city of Shangri-la has a population of around 120,000 and sits at 3200 m (10,498′). That may sound like a pretty good sized city, but on Chinese standards, it’s pretty tiny. The city consists of an old section where all the Tibetans used to live and a new section recently built up by the Chinese. This is typical of many Chinese cities—the original older city, and a newly developed section. For example, a couple years ago I was in Qingdao visiting an academic program there. I was staying in the new section of town and I didn’t like it. It was very modern with lots of new shiny skyscrapers, and shopping areas, but it was all very bland, with very few people on the streets.  It was even hard to find a decent restaurant that was reasonably priced. The border between the new city and the old was stark. Literally cross a street and it was like the old China that I know and love—tons of little shops and restaurants, crowds of people on the streets, old architecture, lots of character.

A street in Shangri-la's new town

Shangri-la’s old town was charming and quaint, but a little too “restored.” That is, they went a little too far with tourists in mind. It is full of little restaurants, coffee shops, stores selling all kinds of tourist trinkets, and guest houses.

Shangri-la's old town

Click on the link below to see a photo of the old town taken in 1999 (photo courtesy of Michael Paul)

Zhongdian Old Town

The new city is rather typical of most Chinese cities, bland concrete architecture, wide streets, and generic stores. But Shangri-la is still predominantly Tibetan, and that is who you see on the streets and in the markets. Yes there are Chinese run businesses and restaurants, but there is still a huge Tibetan presence. Tibetan women in this part of the Tibetan realm have a distinctive dress. Nearly all the women in the city seem to wear pants (oftentimes jeans), a bright blue apron. sometimes with a white apron over the top it, and a distinctive headdress that sometimes consists of bright fuchsia yarn wound together, or a woven scarf. They are very bright and colorful. Some women also wear brightly colored blouses or vest-like coverings.

Tibetan girls on the street

Traditional Tibetan headdress

One morning while out exploring we came upon a thriving street market. This is where we had our first taste of yak cheese. Though a bit strong and somewhat smoky, I kind of liked it. Michael was not too thrilled about it though.

Street market

Yak cheese

We then stumbled on an indoor market selling meat, produce, and other things. In Chinese we would call this a 农贸市场 nóngmào shìchǎng, or a farmer’s market. I love these kinds of markets and we had a great time wandering around taking pictures. The highlight was when Michael slipped on a big chunk of pig fat on the ground and almost went down.

Fresh market. The characters in the upper left say cài shìchǎng or "vegetable market"

Traditional shopping baskets

These kinds of markets sell an astonishing array of goods, from fresh meat and vegetables to dry goods and live animals in some cases. Below is a sampling of goods.

Chili powder

Fresh chilis, ginger, corn, and I think rhubarb

Tea

Fresh mushrooms

Fresh noodles

Roast duck

Chopping block

Fresh bacon

Frogs (not for pets)

Another day we were wandering around on the outskirts of town and came upon a mushroom market. July and August is wild mushroom season in this part of Yunnan Province and many Tibetans roam the mountains picking mushrooms to sell in the markets. This is one way for rural Tibetans to earn some cash.

Mushroom market

Bringing in the harvest

Wild mushrooms

More yak cheese

The road to Tibet, a few hours drive away.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Trekking in Shangri-la: Songzanlin Monastery

In late July of 2010, a colleague and friend of mine attended and spoke at an academic conference at Yunnan University in Kunming. Since we were in a wonderful and scenic part of China, we decided to take some time after the conference to do some trekking. We both have interest in Tibet and the border regions of Tibet where about half of all Tibetans live. Yunnan Province in China’s southwest has three Tibetan Autonomous counties. One of my former students had traveled to the Shangri-la region in upper northwestern Yunnan and the region seemed really interesting with a high Tibetan population. My friend had also visited the city in the 90’s.

In 2001, in order to attract tourists, the city of Zhongdian 中甸 zhōngdiàn was renamed Shangri-la 香各里拉 xiānggēlǐlā. The name Shangri-la came to the west from the novel written by James Hilton about a mysterious Himalayan utopia isolated from the world. Several places in the Himalayas have been thought to be this place described in his novel, but only China was brazen enough to actually name a town Shangri-la.

In the old days, (in the 90’s and previously) Zhongdian was a dusty, almost one street town, where it was not uncommon to literally see Kham Tibetan “cowboys” ride into town on their horses. The old town consisted of narrow winding alleys through a large cluster of old wooden frame buildings.  After 2001, that all changed as the Chinese spent millions of yuan “improving” the city. These improvements included completely rebuilding the old city gearing it toward the tourist industry, widening streets, building luxury hotels, restaurants, an airport, and so on.

After our conference, we flew to Shangri-la from Kunming. We had arranged to stay at a small guest house (Kevin’s Trekking Inn) where my former student had stayed. It was also recommended in the Lonely Planet guidebook. The place was run by a Han Chinese guy and staffed with a couple Tibetans. It was a bit of a mixed bag. The rooms were okay, but the water was unreliable, meaning we only had water for a short time each day, and what we did have was pretty weak and very cold. They claimed that their well was low on water, but we suspected there was some politics going on, that and the fact that the guesthouse was on a hillside where it was probably more difficult to get water.

Songzanlin Monastery

Our first objective was to visit the large Songzanlin Monastery 松赞林寺 sōngzànlín sì outside of town. We took a local bus that ran the length of one of the main roads in town up to the monastery. The bus was full of Tibetans. It made a mandatory stop at a new building where we were forced to get off and buy a ticket to the monastery (all part of the tourist plan). From there we boarded another bus that took us up to the monastery. The monastery itself was originally built in 1679, and is the largest and most famous Buddhist monastery in the Kham region of Tibet. It is also known as the little Potala Palace because of its traditional architecture. It sits on the side of a mountain at 10,827 feet. The whole complex consists of the temple, two lamaseries, and a large jumble of small wooden living quarters clinging to the hillside. My friend had visited this monastery in the early 90’s and reported that the monks were very friendly and showed him all around. We were looking forward to this kind of reception but were disappointed that even though we spoke Chinese, we received a pretty chilly reception. They did not seem to be interested in talking to us. I suppose at this point they were tired of all the tourists traipsing around their monastery.

Yak butter candles

Prayer wheels

We spent several hours wandering around the complex of temples and houses. All the structures were made of wood and a maze of narrow alleys cut through the dwellings.

Houses around the monastery

Houses adjacent to the monastery

House facing the monastery

Behind the monastery were many more houses, many of which seemed to be made of rammed earth and wood.

Houses behind the monastery

We walked through this small village and climbed to the top of the hill behind the monastery. There were the customary prayer flags as well as beautiful views of the valley.

Tibetan Buddhist prayer flags are inscribed with prayers and mantras and are said to bring good luck. The wind carries these prayers across the countryside. For more information on prayer flags see, http://www.prayerflags.com. From the top of this hill there were nice views of distant Shangri-la, as well as distant mountain ranges, and surrounding farm and grazing land.

Shangri-la in the distance

We hiked off the back of the hill down into another valley with a few traditional Tibetan houses.

Traditional Tibetan houses

Racks for drying the barley crop

At the end of this valley was another small village full of traditional wooden framed Tibetan houses. These houses consist of a gate that leads into a courtyard. The houses are three stories with animals, (pigs, chickens, cows), on the ground floor, living quarters on the second floor and storage on the third floor. These houses were pretty nice. We would later stay in a much more rustic Tibetan house.

Songzanlin Monastery from a nearby village

Typical gate at a traditional Tibetan house

Traditional Tibetan house

After walking around for most of the day, we were really feeling the altitude and were tired, thirsty and hungry. We found a nearby restaurant and had a pretty basic (i.e. not very good) meal. But it was nice to sit and rest a bit before we took a bus back to Shangri-la.

Monks in front of the small restaurant

Feeling the altitude

Tibetan girls in the restaurant

I do not recommend that you go poking around in restaurant kitchens in China as they can be pretty unsanitary. But I couldn’t resist a peak into the kitchen of this place. After all it was right next to where we were sitting. They certainly weren’t trying to hide anything.

TO BE CONTINUED