The Freedom of a Road Trip, the Ease of a Group Tour: A 16-Day Spontaneous Tibet Adventure
Ever since my son was two, I’ve taken him on trips a few times a year, usually independent travel. So many people have asked for itineraries, but I’ve been too lazy—never once wrote one down. This time, many friends again asked for tips. Using the two-day train ride back, I jotted down this log. Not sure if it counts as a travelogue—just see it as a day-by-day account. Hope it helps; if not, just chuckle and forgive my clumsy writing. For me, it had one big benefit: the two-day train journey suddenly felt much shorter 😆
This trip wasn’t well planned—it was really a spur-of-the-moment kind of trip. The reason: my son hadn’t had a proper break through three years of high school. Don’t know if he felt pent up, but I sure did 😊. After submitting his college preferences, I started thinking about travel. With the pandemic, we dared not go abroad, so Tibet, a place I’d long yearned for, became the top choice. We submitted the first batch of preferences on August 2; my son’s last day of his summer job was the evening of the 6th. So on the 4th, I booked the second half of the trip, Xining to Lhasa (train Z9817 on the 8th). The first half was still up in the air. I kept refreshing for tickets and even considered buying extra stations, like Zaozhuang West to Xining. Finally, on the 5th, I lucked into tickets for Zhengzhou to Xining (train Z273 in the early hours of the 8th), with a three-hour transfer time in between. There are only two direct trains from Zhengzhou to Lhasa, so if you plan a Tibet trip, definitely book tickets early.
This log mainly covers the 12 days from arriving in Lhasa to leaving: August 10 to August 21. Each train ride to and from took two days.
D1: Barkhor Street, Zaki Monastery
D2: Basum Tso
D3: Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon, Lunang Town
D4: Mushroom picking in Lunang Town, Kading Valley, Lhasa
D5: Potala Palace
D6: Tashilhunpo Monastery, Shigatse
D7: Karola Glacier, Shigatse border permit office, Everest Base Camp
D8: Everest Base Camp, Shigatse
D9: Namtso
D10: Namtso, Shengxiang Tianmen (Holy Elephant Celestial Gate), Lhasa
D11: Drepung Monastery, Yamdrok Lake, Princess Wencheng live performance
D12: Barkhor Street wandering, departure
In the days before our departure, continuous heavy rain near Zhengzhou made the trains go slow. We were already two hours late arriving at Lanzhou, and the whole way I prayed we wouldn’t exceed 2.5 hours, because otherwise there was no way to catch the next train. Worse, unless you change to a standing-room-only ticket, all other tickets for trains entering Tibet were gone. Xining to Lhasa takes 21 hours, and standing that whole way would be truly frightening. So I started browsing what fun things there were in Xining—just in case our Tibet trip turned into a Xining trip instead 😆
Miraculously, we arrived in Xining one hour and fifty-five minutes late. After explaining to staff, we managed a direct transfer within the station, and the Tibet trip was finally on!
On the train into Tibet, I settled in and started earnestly looking for accommodation. Checked out many hotels and guesthouses near the Potala Palace, and ended up choosing “Yunshang Youyou.” That’s how our perfect Tibet journey began.
Along the Qingzang Railway, there are countless tunnels, and the signal comes and goes, making online enquiries really inconvenient. The guesthouse landlady called me directly. Not knowing how we’d react to the high altitude, I booked just the first three days, hoping to ease in, let our bodies adjust, and then plan the rest. Booking three days also meant they’d pick us up from the station, so we wouldn’t have to struggle with altitude sickness and heavy luggage looking for the place.
Lhasa’s pandemic control was excellent. On the train into Tibet, everyone’s temperature was taken twice, forms were filled out, and moving between carriages was forbidden. We scanned the Tibet Health Code and filled in a series of details. After getting off, we had to queue by carriage, have temperatures rechecked, and only when everything was normal were we all released together. This whole process took about forty to fifty minutes.
Outside the station, we waited at the appointed spot. A young guy in a blue Buick business vehicle picked us up, and we chatted all the way to our lodging.
First time in Lhasa, you’re bound to get a bit of altitude sickness. Watching all the little snack bags I’d brought puff up like little blowfish, I imagined what my blood vessels looked like right then. Since my appetite was still fine, I ate my first plateau meal feeling a bit woozy.
That evening, chatting with the tall, pretty landlady, I learned that the young guy was actually the boss, whom everyone calls Chao Ge (Brother Chao).
Hearing I had a touch of altitude sickness, the landlady immediately brewed some saffron water.
As she made tea, the chatty and beautiful landlady talked about Tibet, the sights, routes, and Yixiu (a clever sausage-dog version corgi with a "[❤️]" heart-shaped peach bum). Without noticing, we were talking until midnight and arranged for the next day’s special dumplings (matsutake mushroom dumplings). Before I left, she also made me glucose water and told me to drink lots of water.
Morning (August 10): woke up naturally. We went to a fairly authentic Tibetan restaurant, ordered a pot of sweet tea and ‘zang mian’ (Tibetan noodles) that was supposedly made with pure beef bone broth but the noodles weren’t great. Verdict: noodles were okay, the broth was very good.
This was our first day out in Lhasa, an easy ramble. First choice: Barkhor Street. Saw thangkas, wasn’t interested in much else, so went looking for Jokhang Temple, found it but didn’t feel like going in, then visited the “Minister’s Office of the Qing Dynasty in Tibet.” At noon, checked out an Instagram-famous restaurant and had Nepalese food—it’s popular for a reason. We started toward Drepung Monastery, but halfway realized we didn’t have enough time, so we turned back and went to Zaki Monastery instead.
We rushed back to pitch in and cook dinner together. Chao Ge, from Sichuan, has great cooking skills 😋. The evening’s star dish was naturally boiled pork slices, full of color, aroma and taste. There were also matsutake mushroom dumplings—a first for me—and matsutake chicken soup that had me going back for at least three bowls. Of course, there had to be wine... After a hearty meal, close to eleven, we started discussing the itinerary for the next few days.
D2–D4:
We teamed up with two young guys from Hebei and set off on a three-day trip to Nyingchi (August 11–13). Chao Ge and his blue Buick accompanied us the whole way. The landlady arranged the itinerary and sent it to each of us. Once on the road, the power of decision rested with Chao Ge behind the wheel, though any changes were always for our benefit.
On the way to Nyingchi, we crossed the 5,013-meter Mira Pass. Wind and rain mixed together, and it felt freezing. I prepared to take a photo, but in the lens saw my own dark-purple lips, abandoned the selfie, and just took a few standard “been there” shots of my son as a souvenir.
The first ticketed scenic spot was Basum Tso. When we got out, the sun was blazing. I debated whether to bring an umbrella, but since I already had a baseball cap on, I skipped it. As soon as we entered the area, it started raining, so the whole visit happened in light drizzle.
The altitude around Nyingchi is about 2,700 metres, very comfortable both in height and temperature. For anyone heading to Tibet, Nyingchi is a great first destination to help you adjust to the altitude.
That evening, we found a well-reviewed, newly opened Tibetan guesthouse online called Nuoyanglin. It offered breakfast, and before we left, the owner gave each of us a khata (ceremonial scarf), saying that according to Tibetan custom, guests must not leave empty-handed. That khata later appeared in photos at the Grand Canyon.
Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon was one of my favourite attractions. En route, Chao Ge stopped so we could admire the Yarlung River scenery. On a cloudy day, it looked just like an ink wash painting.
To enter the canyon scenic area, you need to buy a 90 RMB shuttle bus ticket. There are four stops inside; you ride from one to the next. A mention here: the five-star toilet at the entrance to the Grand Canyon scenic area—remember to check it out.
(5-star toilet at the Grand Canyon entrance)
At the first stop, we met a Tibetan guy from Gongbu called Tashi, a young law graduate who’d not long finished university. He was tanned and very personable, shared loads about Tibetan customs, and taught us how to circumambulate mountains, lakes, and stupas. One key thing to remember: whether circling a stupa or a monastery, always go clockwise. According to Tashi, the first scenic spot inside the Grand Canyon only opened this year, tells the history of the Gongbu Tibetans, and is in the process of being inscribed as heritage—so it might close in the future. Catching a glimpse of Namcha Barwa peak is a highlight of the Grand Canyon, but it’s said that you can only see it about sixty days a year; the rest of the time it’s hidden by clouds and mist. Lucky for us, at the second stop we got to see Namcha Barwa.
(Namcha Barwa peak revealing itself through the clouds)
(Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon)
Chao Ge was never in a hurry and let us enjoy each spot at our own pace. It was almost 3 pm by the time we came out of the Grand Canyon. We found a Shaanxi noodle joint for lunch, then headed to Lunang Town. Along the way, we passed Sejila Pass and Lunang Forest Sea. Chao Ge told us which scenic spots didn’t require a ticket, and found suitable roadside places for us to stop, take in the views, and snap photos. Near Lunang, we stopped at a small supermarket to pick up supplies. Chao Ge announced he’d cook dinner—yay! I jumped at the chance to pay. Since the two Hebei guys had left us earlier, the car only held Chao Ge, his sister, my son, and me, so the original plan of splitting Chao Ge’s food and lodging costs didn’t worry me. I bought, he cooked—perfect.
As soon as we entered Lunang Town, we were stunned by the scenery. It reminded me of those Swiss landscape calendars I loved as a kid.
Once settled, Chao Ge cleaned up the kitchen and used the ingredients we’d bought to make dinner: three dishes and a soup. Not bad, right?
There was also a rib soup and a bowl of cut fruit I made myself, but forgot to photograph.
After dinner, the four of us went for a walk and admired the small town’s night view. Outside the window of our room was a beautiful grassland: you could lie in bed and look at the scenery.
After breakfast, Chao Ge’s friend arranged for a young guy to take us mushroom picking, which really got us excited—after all, I’d lived this long (old) without ever picking mushrooms 😆
Leaving Lunang Town, we started the return journey. We passed the Kading Valley scenic area, where we messed up twice. First, the ticket seller miscalculated. I handed over four IDs and two student cards, but she charged me for five full-price tickets plus one extra yuan, and gave us five tickets. Only at the gate did we realize the mistake, but all five tickets had already been verified—just had to eat the loss. The second mistake: in a daze, all three of us started walking down what was actually the exit path. So we did the whole tour going against the flow of other visitors, utterly confused, until we reached the main entrance and realized we’d entered through the exit and exited through the entrance. Kading Valley features natural Buddha-like rock formations. Because we walked in reverse, we rarely bumped into guides, and blurrily went around not really seeing any Buddha figures. We took it as enjoying natural scenery; luckily the ticket price wasn’t high, and the wandering was carefree. I vividly remember the waterfalls and purple bamboo grove.
Back in Lhasa that afternoon. The next evening we had a dinner of the mushrooms we’d picked ourselves. (Never eat wild mushrooms unless you know they’re safe! Remember that!)
On the morning of the 14th, we went to the Potala Palace. We’d managed to grab tickets online from the palace’s official site the day before (before 7 am). Once you book a Potala Palace ticket, you must show up on time for your visit, otherwise you won’t be allowed to make another booking for a week. If you’re not in a rush, taking the bus to the Potala Palace is very convenient. Follow the visiting rules: arrive early as required, queue for security check, queue to buy tickets, queue to enter. The Potala Palace is incredibly popular.
D6–D10:
The next five days (15th–19th) were the Everest–Namtso loop. Originally the plan was to go to Yamdrok Lake first, but the weather didn’t cooperate. It rained the whole way, and even about 50 km from the lake, there was no sign of clearing. So we decisively turned around and headed straight for Shigatse. We arrived just after 3 pm and, finding it was Saturday, worried we couldn’t get the border permit, so we phoned and got false information that on weekends they only processed in the morning. So we went to Tashilhunpo Monastery instead and spent a wonderfully unhurried half day there. We stayed overnight in Shigatse, waiting to do the permit the next day.
Without meaning to, we booked a hotel right next to Gongjue Linka Park, so in the morning we took a stroll: very pleasant. The park was large, beautiful, and peaceful (except for the square dancing area), with people out exercising here and there.
Chao Ge dashed around two permit offices early in the morning to scope things out. One had nobody; the other had people already waiting. So we went straight to the lively one—only to be told that on weekends, they only do groups in the morning and individual travellers had to wait until 3:30 pm 😱 This was the trip’s biggest blunder. If we’d come straight to handle the permit upon arriving yesterday afternoon, the timing would have been perfect. Now we had no choice but to wait. After a brief discussion, we decided to go to Karola Glacier, 200 km away. En route, we passed Manla Reservoir—such beautiful water, once again proving the best scenery is on the road.
As soon as our car reached the glacier area, Tibetan locals swarmed around asking us to buy tickets, 50 yuan per person. Once we’d bought them, no one bothered us; in their words, “go wherever you want.” One path led up, one led down. Maybe fearing it would be more exhausting and breathless going upward, we naturally headed down. On the grassland we spotted mushrooms—first time I’d ever seen mushrooms growing on grass.
Originally I thought we could cross a little river and climb the mountain. On the spot, we found the river wasn’t easy to cross and the mountain wasn’t easy to climb either. So the glacier, though seemingly within arm’s reach, remained only a distant spectacle, untouchable.
Once again, we dawdled too long. Worried the weekend staff would knock off early, we exited the area, and Chao Ge showed off his racing skills, speeding like crazy to make up time, only to be held up for half an hour by roadworks. Here I must vent about roadworks in Tibet: the roads look like Iraq after being shelled, and the dust storms make you feel you’ve time-travelled to the barren Mu Us Desert in winter. Roadworks vehicles don’t park neatly on the side being repaired; they block the open lane, and the workers stand there like “one man guarding the pass, ten thousand cannot get through.” So anyone needing to pass just has to obediently follow instructions and wait patiently.
We reached the Shigatse permit office after 4 pm. Thankfully, everything went smoothly and we quickly got the permit, then headed towards Everest. More on the permit timing later.
The road to Everest alternated between rain and sunshine; you could see rain falling from certain nearby clouds. The mountain road was full of curves, narrow and slippery. At that point, I ditched my old habit of dozing whenever I could and stayed alert to chat with Chao Ge—and that chat lasted eight hours. After 10 pm, we reached the main entrance to Everest Scenic Area.
Two Tibetan girls wearing face masks sold us the tickets. Driving further, we didn’t reach our accommodation until the wee hours. We drank the boss’s butter tea and then, still brimming with energy, went around looking for spots to photograph the starry sky 😊 That day was the toughest of the whole trip.
Because it rained at night, we’d been warned we might not see Everest, so we came mentally prepared. Went to sleep around 2 am. It was called a shared dorm, but actually it was fine: a private room for four. Too scared to wash with glacier water, we’d lugged a big bottle of Nongfu Spring mineral water along. My son said it felt so extravagant, washing with bottled water. The stove the Tibetans used for heating was both beautiful and practical; the whole house stayed warm, and we slept well. Woke at 7 am, stepped out to see a vast blue sky with Everest clearly visible. Suppressing the racing heart, with trembling hands, I rushed through breakfast and headed for Everest.
A short drive up, we reached the eco-bus station: round-trip ticket 120 yuan. The eco-bus driver said we were very lucky; the previous few days had been lousy weather and no one could see Everest. That day was the first clear day. The group riding up with us had arrived yesterday, missed Everest, and decided to stay an extra day. Against the blue sky, Everest’s holy purity and majesty were on full display.
(Pro tip: if you want to jump high, you’ve got to crouch low. Haha…)
In the afternoon, we returned to Shigatse. On the way, we met a slim, deeply tanned guy from Chongqing cycling solo to Everest. He was using a drone to film the 108 bends; said he’d been cycling for over thirty days. Along the journey we’d seen many such brave cyclists, but this was the first solo rider. I have so much admiration for these cyclists.
Spent the night in Shigatse. When I saw the small single room—entrance into the bathroom then a tatami bed, the space was so cramped—Chao Ge said it was fine, but I insisted on booking him a king-size room so he could sleep every which way. Only with good rest could he take us to play better. Haha…
Early morning, after a free hotel breakfast, we set off towards Damxung. The airport expressway was a breeze, and Highway 318 was fine too. The highlight was coming across a huge herd of Tibetan antelopes—practically an encounter of a lifetime.
After that, the road conditions deteriorated: tons of large trucks, and stretches of roadworks kicking up dust so thick it was hard to believe this was Tibet with air pollution near zero. Two lanes in each direction, and overtaking in a small car was really tough. On the return, we saw a car that had flipped and rolled way off the road, waiting for rescue, causing a jam for over half an hour. Two handsome guys just squatted quietly by the roadside, waiting.
At last we saw Namtso. Everyone gasped and asked to slow down for photos. Chao Ge calmly said, “Let’s find a spot to go down.” So our “business SUV” parked handsomely right by the lake, letting us get up close and personal with the water for the first time.
The most heart-pounding part was shooting the starry sky at the Namtso self-drive camp. After dinner, around 11 pm, having vetoed the large dorm, we were put in a so-called RV—the environment was so-so, with no bathroom or washing facilities, but we had our bottled water and continued our Nongfu Spring luxury routine. Hardly anyone cared; we put down our stuff and excitedly went out to photograph the stars. The cold surpassed Everest (or maybe we were just lucky with perfect weather at Everest). I wore a fleece, down jacket and boots, but no gloves, and afterwards found my fingers frozen and swollen.
You absolutely, absolutely must see the Namtso starry sky with your own eyes. The stars twinkle. Here you truly understand why the sky is called the “firmament.” Beneath the dome, it’s studded with glimmering stars. Adjusting the ISO and exposure time, you can shoot different colors in different directions.
The next morning, we found the wooden floor outside our door covered in glittering ice crystals. Colder than night. So anyone planning to shoot the stars at Namtso, be sure to dress warmly, warmly.
From the camp to Shengxiang Tianmen (Holy Elephant Celestial Gate) is about 50 km of unbelievably bad road. Calling it a washboard doesn’t do it justice. I never figured out why it’s one hole after another—maybe mouse holes that collapsed? Anyway, it shook our insides to pieces.
Shengxiang Tianmen and Namtso are a match made in heaven. Through the gateway, you see the turquoise lake and snow on distant mountains: mysterious, novel, breathtaking…
We started back just past noon and returned to Lhasa close to 9 pm.
This year’s Shoton Festival began on August 19, while we were still at Namtso, so we could only go to Drepung Monastery on the morning of the 20th. Due to the pandemic, the giant Buddha unveiling only happened on the opening day morning. When we arrived, the huge piles of rubbish still on the roadside gave a hint of the previous day’s grand festivities. Drepung Monastery houses many, many sutras, which is rare in other temples. Like the Potala Palace, no photos allowed inside.
We’d arranged for Chao Ge to pick us up at the monastery at 1 pm, to make up for missing Yamdrok Lake earlier. So we had ample time to leisurely wander Drepung Monastery. In fact, you really can’t rush here: the place is huge and the mountain high, and hurrying leaves you breathless.
At Yamdrok Lake, the weather switched between cloudy and sunny, and the water’s color kept shifting, but its clarity remained. Some say Yamdrok Lake is more beautiful, others swear by Namtso. Both have their own charm: simply put, Yamdrok is crystalline, Namtso is profound.
Chao Ge stopped the car three times, cleverly dodging the ticket sellers, and the scenery was every bit as gorgeous.
The landlady called to fix us tickets for that evening’s “Princess Wencheng” performance. The discount was great and the seats excellent. This was her forte—handling everything meticulously. So once we were in Lhasa, Chao Ge dropped us right at the theatre.
(From the theatre entrance, I snapped a distant night view of the Potala Palace)
Outside the theatre, many vendors rented out overcoats, saying it gets very cold at night. With only a thin windbreaker, I almost believed them and nearly rented one. Fact is, in August, with no wind or rain, it’s not cold at all.
As the show was ending, the landlady messaged saying she’d come to pick us up, no need to call a car, and that after the show we could take photos with the actors—no rush. After more than ten days together, we’d truly become like old friends.
“Princess Wencheng” is a large-scale outdoor spectacle with grand sets and sound, full of exotic flavour. Definitely worth seeing.
On the afternoon of the 21st, it really was time to leave. In the morning, we went to Barkhor Street again, strolling casually. I was still intrigued by thangkas; bloodstone and turquoise were just for looking. Finally I bought a thangka, then went back to Yun Shang You You to play with the resident pooch, Yixiu (sausage-dog corgi 😊). Yixiu adores being massaged—if you stop, he’ll find the next person and nudge your hand onto his head with his muzzle, meaning he needs more scratching and massaging. So content he’d just flop over onto his back.
At 5 pm we left for Lhasa Railway Station, taking a Didi Kuaiche. The app showed 37.7 yuan, but we were charged 54.7—the driver said there was a distance fee and a time fee. It definitely wasn’t the fixed price shown on the app. Who can you complain to? Didi Kuaiche in Lhasa is a trap.
This was a spur-of-the-moment trip. Lucky encounters. Everything turned out more perfect than expected. I hope I’ll have the chance to return, and together we’ll do the Ngari route…
Many of you must be dying to know about costs. Here’s a rough summary:
Transport: 8823
Food & accommodation: 2730
Tickets: 2741
Total: 14294 (this includes round-trip train tickets to and from Tibet, plus sundry other costs. I estimate all-up expenses around 15,000 RMB.)
1. Along the way in Tibet, there are plenty of snowy mountains, like Chomokangkar. We stopped and played around there for quite a while.
2. Tibetan locals burn incense in the morning, creating fragrant smoke everywhere. The mist rising from the mountains is fog; from the ground, it looks like smoke, a bit like our crop-burning scenes back home.
3. One ridiculous thing about driving in Tibet is the frequent, closely spaced speed checkpoints, usually limiting speed to 20, 30, or 40 km/h.
1. I strongly suggest taking the train into Tibet. The reason needs no explaining—it’s to have an acclimatization process before hitting the high altitude. Also, the scenery along the Qinghai-Tibet Railway is unmissable.
2. Book your train tickets into and out of Tibet well in advance. Inbound and outbound tickets are the hardest to get; later legs are easier. Someone like me, deciding last minute, had to transfer, and if anything goes wrong you might miss your connection.
3. Once in Tibet, keep your mindset relaxed. Walk and do things slowly. Dizziness and headaches are inevitable. Yoga meditation, sitting quietly, and deep breathing can help—this is my own experience.
4. Always carry two essentials: an umbrella (the kind that’s good both for sun and rain) and your ID card. In Tibet it’s either blazing sun or rain. Plus, entering and leaving Lhasa and at many checkpoints en route, you need your physical ID to pass verification.
5. If you plan to go to Everest, ideally get your border permit at home. A locally obtained one usually has only three days validity. The permit office in Shigatse processes for individual travellers at these times: Mon–Fri 9:30–12:30, 15:30–18:30; Sat–Sun 15:30–18:30.
6. The road from Shigatse to Gyantse and Karola Glacier is good with little traffic, though you’ll share it with herds of yaks and sheep crossing the road. Some sections are under repair.
7. From Lhasa to Damxung you take the busy Qinghai-Tibet Highway, packed with trucks. After entering the Namtso area, the 50 km to Shengxiang Tianmen is a brutal washboard road—quite the bone-rattling experience! But the surprise of spotting Tibetan antelopes and even a little fox along the way made it all worthwhile.
8. If you’re shooting stars at Namtso, the cold surpasses Everest (perhaps we just had exceptional weather at Everest and didn’t feel the chill). It’s so cold you won’t want to wash your face. Accommodation is basic; be mentally prepared. Our ‘RV’ had no running water; we’d brought our own large bottle of Nongfu Spring for washing. The wooden floor outside had frost on it in the morning. That’s how cold it gets.
9. For star photography at Namtso, remember to bring a tripod and adjust ISO and exposure time. Different directions yield different colours.
10. Don’t drive a saloon car here—many places are impassable—or be prepared to scrape the undercarriage. Best not to bring your beloved car either. Most roads in Tibet are good, but there are enough sections where you’ll wish you could just carry the car.
11. In Lhasa, if you’re not in a rush, buses are very handy; you can pay with UnionPay QuickPass. Didi Kuaiche in Lhasa is a rip-off: it shows a fixed price but charges you a distance-plus-time fare, which often comes out almost half more.
12. Girls wanting to take beautiful photos can prepare a warmth trick: cut a pair of thin fleece-lined leggings so only the two legs remain—it makes them very easy to put on and take off.
13. Ladies, remember your lipstick, or those dark-purple lips will ruin any photo!
14. I suggest bringing sunscreen. Get up half an hour early, put on a nice face of makeup, and your photos will be gorgeous. Besides daily skincare, I brought sunscreen primer, foundation, cushion, blush, eyebrow pencil, liquid eyeliner, mascara, 5–6–7–8 lipsticks, and of course makeup remover and cotton pads are must-haves.
15. Bring student or teacher IDs; some attractions offer half-price tickets, like Potala Palace.
16. Throughout our trip, we arranged our own food, accommodation and tickets, using whatever apps you’re comfortable with.
I wrote this whole account on my phone during the two-day return train ride. But when I opened it again, I found the WPS app on my phone doesn’t save images in documents larger than 2GB. Back home, my computer was on loan, so I had to wait and then re-upload and edit photos one by one. Thousands of pictures, flipped through countless times—what a massive effort! If I hadn’t promised friends, I probably would’ve given up again. (This is my fourth edit; I’m going cross-eyed!)
