A Spontaneous Trip: Lhasa and Nyingchi

The last time I wrote a travel journal was in the summer of 2018, after my trip to Qinghai and Xi’an. But I lost access to that account, and I left some readers’ questions unanswered. This time, I’m writing this travelogue to offer advice to those who want to visit Tibet but have been hesitant, or who need some travel tips. It may not be as polished as others, but I hope you’ll bear with me. Hehe.

Since I planned this trip on short notice, I couldn’t get a sleeper ticket to Lhasa. I ended up buying a hard seat from Bengbu to Lhasa—a grueling 42 hours of sitting, literally sitting the whole way. Some may ask: Why not fly? My advice is, if it’s your first time entering Tibet, take the train there to give your body time to acclimatize to the altitude, then fly out.

The train is divided into oxygen-supplied and regular carriages. At Xining Station, everyone has to get off and switch to an oxygen-supplied train. Along the way, the altitude ranges from 4,000 to over 5,000 meters. The snacks I brought all puffed up—their bellies bulging cutely at high altitudes. I didn’t get a photo of the chip bags exploding because a certain someone sneaked them and ate them.

From the train, you can see the landscapes of the Ngari region—every scene could be a desktop wallpaper.

Big, billowing white clouds running riot.

A herd of carefree, free-range yaks, heads down drinking and grazing, then looking up at the high plateau.

By this point, the train was nearly pulling into the station. We were due at Lhasa at 8 p.m., but the train was half an hour late. Make sure to book your hotel in advance—prices range from a few dozen to over a thousand yuan. Once in Lhasa, I didn’t shower that night, fearing altitude sickness. But it really depends on your constitution. If you’re worried about altitude sickness at night, you can buy oxygen canisters from shops for 20-30 yuan each. Alternatively, you can get Rhodiola rosea from a pharmacy. I bought the powder form; you can take it anytime for altitude sickness, but it tastes awful—I don’t recommend it.

Day 1 itinerary: Barkhor Street – Jokhang Temple – Potala Palace – Small Commodity Market – Potala Palace Square

To gradually get used to the altitude, we decided to explore Lhasa city first. We started with Barkhor Street, which is lined with Tibetan-style buildings. Everywhere you look, there are people having Tibetan-style photoshoots. We intended to visit Jokhang Temple, but we couldn’t find the entrance. With our Potala Palace reservation time approaching, we had to rush off.

Buying tickets at the Potala Palace (PS: To visit inside, you need to book a day in advance on the official website). Let me show you the view behind the Potala Palace. You have to climb to the top to buy tickets, and even a short climb leaves you breathless. The entrance fee is 200 yuan, half price with a teacher’s certificate or other valid IDs. Photography is not allowed inside, so I have no pictures. But the interior is stunning—filled with Buddha statues—definitely worth seeing.

Next, we went to the Small Commodity Market. They sell a lot of things, but it’s a mixed bag—hard to tell what’s genuine. I did buy some small souvenirs with Tibetan characteristics. There I met a lady from Guangdong; we hit it off and chatted for a while. I bought some yak jerky and saffron from her.

A different angle on the Potala Palace.

After a short rest, we strolled to the square and quietly waited for nightfall, to unveil the Potala Palace’s mysterious veil. To capture this night scene, I watched how the old-timers did it, then splashed a puddle of water on the ground and lay flat for ages to get the shot. Not easy!

You might be wondering what to eat. I had Sichuan cuisine these past few days—Lhasa’s downtown is full of people from Sichuan and Chongqing. I didn’t dare try Tibetan food, fearing it wouldn’t agree with me. But the prices in Lhasa are steeper than in Beijing, Shanghai, or Guangzhou.

Day 2 itinerary: I signed up for a 3-day tour to the Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon in Nyingchi, figuring I’d start from a lower altitude and acclimatize gradually. Tour prices vary between agencies. It’s best to book online—don’t ask why, I learned the hard way.

The next day, the driver-cum-guide from the agency picked us up. There were 14 people on the bus: a pair of bubbly best friends from Zhengzhou, a young couple from Guangxi, a mother-daughter duo from Tianjin, a retired university professor couple from Lanzhou, newlyweds from Inner Mongolia, and a duo that formed mid-journey—a tall Northeasterner and a cute guy from Anhui. And me? Guess??

The first day from Lhasa to Nyingchi was mostly spent on the road. We passed through Mila Pass, over 4,000 meters up. It was raining and really cold.

Check-in at the Yarlung Tsangpo River.

A lovely group of people, all thanks to the auntie who tirelessly took videos and photos along the way.

A panoramic view of a corner of the Yarlung Tsangpo River.

The scenery stays in my heart, photos stay on my phone.

The lofty Namcha Barwa Peak at high altitude.

Wish stones are everywhere—who knows how many hopes and dreams are piled up there?

Watching the clouds unfurl together.

A back-view shot taken by the busy photographer auntie.

The waterfall was spectacular; it’s a pity I can’t insert the video here.

Finally a group photo with the auntie and uncle, who were always bustling about taking care of us. I felt I could learn a lot from them. I really admired their life: a harmonious couple, the uncle so talented, the auntie traveling the world with her camera. He looked at her and smiled; she looked at him, at peace.

At the end, I’d like to share the uncle’s impromptu poem: ‘Joined a tour to Nyingchi, from north and south to Tibet, fate brought us together for three days. Laughter and song all the way, hoping to continue our bond someday.’

My reflection: Life is like a journey. Whether it’s love, family, or friendship, it takes two people to nurture it—through communication, tolerance, and cherishing the ones in front of you. Don’t wait until they’re gone to appreciate them. Don’t mend the pen only after the sheep are lost, when it’s already too late.