First Tibet Trip: 10-Day Travel Guide
How long to stay? What route to take? How to prevent altitude sickness?
These are the three questions that preoccupy every first-time traveler to Tibet.
How long to stay?
A week is enough for a loop trip in most parts of China, but in Tibet, it may not even cover the travel time to get there.
Transportation into Tibet greatly determines the length of your trip. The sightseeing trains direct to Lhasa offer stunning scenery all the way, but the journey is extremely long. From Xining to Lhasa takes 22 hours; from Beijing or Shanghai direct to Lhasa takes 40 hours; from Guangzhou it’s over 53 hours.
Road trips are even more popular—countless people declare that driving the G318 is a lifetime must. This “most beautiful highway in China” stretches from Shanghai’s People’s Square to the foot of Mount Everest. Starting from the Chengdu section, the scenery becomes increasingly dramatic. Kangding, Litang (hometown of Dingzhen), the peach blossom valley of Bomê in Nyingchi, the Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon, Everest Base Camp... the ultimate landscapes make everyone yearn to go. But even from Chengdu, it takes about 10 days to reach Lhasa. Flying is undoubtedly the most comfortable and quickest way. It not only minimizes time cost but also makes altitude sickness least likely.
Once you reach Lhasa, the journey has just begun.
Tibet is China’s second-largest administrative region. With an area of 1.23 million square kilometers, it accounts for one-eighth of China’s territory, yet has a population of only 3.65 million.
This means that most of Tibet is wilderness.
Tibet is the home of snow mountains. The Himalayas have 40 peaks above 7,000 meters and 10 above 8,000 meters.
Tibet is a paradise of lakes. The smallest of the three great sacred lakes, Manasarovar, has a circumference of 90 kilometers—a complete kora on foot takes at least two days. As for Namtso with its 280-kilometer shoreline, even driving around the lake takes a full day.
Tibet’s wilderness stretches beyond the horizon. The Changtang Grassland spans 2,400 kilometers east to west and 700 kilometers north to south. You might drive a hundred kilometers before encountering a single herder’s home.
Such natural conditions mean that after traveling thousands of miles to Tibet, you still need to drive eight or nine hours a day to reach your next destination.
We do not recommend entering Tibet without at least a week to spare.
What route to take?
Tibet has six prefectures, of which Lhasa, Shigatse, and Nyingchi are the best known. Nyingchi is Tibet’s Jiangnan, where the Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon harbors deep forests and brilliant blooms. Lhasa is the heart of Tibet and the best place to understand Tibetan culture. Shigatse is home to the top of the world, Mount Everest, quietly awaiting human challenge.
Ali and Nagqu are hotspots for in-depth travel. The great Ali circuit starts from Lhasa, passing holy lakes, gorges, and grasslands, leading to the “center of the universe,” Mount Kailash, and delving into the ancient Guge civilization. The journey is heaven for the eyes and hell for the body. But it usually takes at least two weeks.
Shannan lies just south of Lhasa, with the most beautiful stretch of the Yarlung Tsangpo River valley; it’s one of the birthplaces of the Tibetan people, rich in both natural and cultural landscapes. A loop trip within a week can easily cover it.
Different routes correspond to very different budgets. The longest Ali great circuit is also the most expensive, virtually impossible without a budget of 15,000 to 20,000 yuan. Other loops can generally be done within 10,000 yuan.
For my first trip to Tibet, I chose a free-and-easy tour of Lhasa plus a small Namtso–Everest loop.
Travel route mapping
The third question: how to prevent altitude sickness?
Tibet’s average elevation is 4,000 meters. Except for Nyingchi, you need to guard against altitude sickness in all other areas. The most important rule is never to be exhausted before or after entering Tibet, and to ensure plenty of rest.
My friends and I, who flew in and rested properly, felt fine most of the time. But we encountered many people suffering from altitude sickness. One grandpa driving himself in started feeling dizzy and nauseous before even reaching Lhasa. A spirited young man in a tour group, overjoyed upon landing, immediately set off on a two-hour fast walk, and ended up with a nosebleed right on the street. Another energetic girl, who took a red-eye flight and joined a tour as soon as she arrived, spent the whole trip vomiting and feeling sick.
In short, with enough rest, enough calories, and a bit of oxygen when needed, you can travel around Tibet with ease.
Finally, a word on costs. This time, in June, I spent 10 days in Tibet and the whole trip cost ¥6,700. I came on non-weekend, non-holiday days, so flights and hotels were relatively cheap. If you travel in peak season, expect the cost to rise by half.
Day 1: ‘Xi'an’ – ‘Lhasa’ Zongjiao Lukang Park
In late May and early June, Xi'an was already sweltering in the mid-30s Celsius, not a place you could go outside.
But Lhasa was completely different. The first feeling upon landing was coolness! The sun was dazzling, but the breeze was chilly, and even at noon it felt just over twenty degrees, very pleasant.
Entering the city, you cross the Yarlung Tsangpo River. This great Asian river, known for its potential energy, is remarkably tranquil in the Lhasa section. The water shows a mineral-rich blue-green hue; the river is wide and slow-flowing, with sandbanks and greenery, and occasional birds perching on its surface—a scene of serene beauty.
In the city center, there were no skyscrapers; the streets were open and clean, with the air of a leisurely small town.
Wherever the view was unobstructed, you could see the towering Potala Palace, its massive Tibetan-style structure outlined by pristine white walls and red paint against a deep blue sky, dazzling and commanding. The whole city lay prostrate at the foot of the Potala.
My heart swelled with excitement—I had finally arrived in Tibet!
The guesthouse I’d booked was just a kilometer north of the Potala. I had planned to rest in the afternoon, but I couldn’t resist and went out for a stroll after a short break.
The guesthouse was run by Tibetans, very clean, and the plants were beautifully tended.
The air in Lhasa was truly clean; the only downside was the dryness, which made my nose hurt a little. The sky was so blue, the sunlight so intense, yet the temperature so comfortable—it lifted my spirits.
On the streets, I frequently saw elderly men and women in Tibetan dress, prayer wheels in hand, walking slowly along.
I strolled at a leisurely pace, too, and found my way to Zongjiao Lukang Park at the foot of the Potala.
Tibetans were lounging on the grass; didn’t they have to work? So blissful!
The Potala was really stunning.
I fell in love with this pace of life. If I could, I’d happily live here for a month.
Day 2: Jokhang Temple – Barkhor Street
For Tibetans, the Jokhang Temple is not an ordinary temple.
In the morning, the Jokhang belongs to devotees and is closed to tourists. Tibetans who have come from all over the country make their way around the Jokhang, prayer wheels spinning, chanting in Tibetan that I couldn’t understand, walking briskly, circling again and again. The surging crowd created a very unfamiliar, solemn atmosphere that erected a barrier between us.
I felt as if I was in their way. I didn’t dare start a conversation, and taking photos felt intrusive, so I could only walk along the edges, watching; when I got tired, I didn’t even dare sit long on public benches. It was quite awkward.
Tibetans doing kora around the Jokhang Temple
Barkhor Street is connected to the Jokhang; I moved off the main pilgrimage route and ventured deeper into the street. Here, shops selling tourist souvenirs and travel photography services multiplied, and from time to time you’d see young women in exotic dress doing photo shoots, brimming with youthfulness.
Shopkeepers enthusiastically called out to passersby, asking if you wanted your hair braided Tibetan style or to have a portrait taken. The familiar bustle of commerce let me relax a bit, and I began to take in the streetscape and snap photos.
This area is all Tibetan-style dwellings, white walls, red window frames, embellished with flowers and greenery—gorgeous.
Rows of Tibetan-style houses, like being in a foreign land.
Balconies all planted with flowers, wonderful.
Nearby there was an internet-famous sweet tea house, “Guangming Gangqiong Sweet Tea House.” The tea house occupied several ground-floor shop fronts, all tightly packed with simple tables. As an old tea house, the tables and equipment showed signs of wear. But its immense popularity could not be denied; it was packed with Tibetans, a bit like the old-time “fly restaurants” in Chongqing. Only, the strangeness of this Tibetan quarter was too strong—locals looked at us unfamiliar faces with curiosity. I simply didn’t have the nerve to calmly sit among them and order a pot of tea. After a fierce half-minute internal debate at the door, I fled.
I chickened out this time. Next time I’ll definitely bring friends and go in for tea.
The bustling area around Barkhor Street is full of dining options, mostly Tibetan cuisine. There were several restaurants rated four stars and above on Dianping.
I walked to a highly rated restaurant a kilometer away. To my surprise, they gave out a free cup of sweet tea—how awesome!
This sweet tea had a strong milky flavor, lightly sweet and not cloying, simply divine!!! What on earth had I been drinking before?!
The hand-pulled lamb was a bit tough; chewing it made my jaw muscles ache. Tibetans eat even tougher meat—I had to admire their dental strength.
Before I’d finished eating, a server called me upstairs to join a family visit. I never expected to tag along on a Tibetan home visit just by eating out—interesting.
The owner’s collection, and on the table was roasted highland barley, wonderfully fragrant. In the stairwell there was a photo with Deng Chao.
I heard the Tibetan-style hotpot was excellent, but a meal at 200 kuai was too expensive. Also, eating hotpot alone in Tibet felt too lonely... I’ll save it for the next trip.
Besides traditional Tibetan food, Nepalese cuisine in Tibet is very authentic. Tibet and Nepal are closely linked geographically and culturally. Although Songtsen Gampo married Princess Wencheng, his chief consort was the Nepalese Princess Bhrikuti. For much of history, Nepal fell under Tibetan jurisdiction. So Tibetan Nepalese restaurants are quite good; there’s a highly rated one on Barkhor Street—I’ll go there tomorrow, hehe.
Sichuan cuisine is especially common in Tibet, found on nearly every major road. After all, Tibet borders Sichuan, and the two Tibetan regions have close ties, so Sichuan food flourishes everywhere. Throughout Lhasa, you can hear Sichuan accents on every street and see dan dan noodle shops and Sichuan restaurants.
After eating, I really wanted to visit the museum. Unfortunately, the Tibet Museum has been under renovation for years, and no one knows when it will reopen. With the UV rays so strong outside, I decided to just go back and lie down.
Day 3: Potala Palace
Yep, this was the only sightseeing item today.
I booked the ticket yesterday on the mini-program “Potala Palace Ticket Reservation System.” I arrived at the square two hours early to first see the exterior.
The Potala practices crowd control; individual visitors need to reserve at least a day in advance. Same-day tickets online were already being sold for 400 yuan.
The vast South Square is the best spot for photographing the panoramic view. Wave after wave of tourists were finding angles to take pictures, and advanced photographers even poured water on the ground to capture reflections.
Below the palace, tourists from all directions gathered, as well as pilgrims prostrating themselves in full-length kowtows.
Standing right at its foot, you truly feel the grandeur of the Potala Palace. The pristine white walls stretch from the base of the hill all the way to the summit; the castle-like massive structure rises high on the mountain top, as if it could lead straight into the deep sky.
To reach the top and visit, you have to go through three ticket checks.
The South Gate security check is the first. After entering, a carefully tended garden soon comes into view.
I never expected a garden in Tibet to be so romantic—vivid flowers in full, dazzling bloom, displaying an almost bewitching vitality on the 3,600-meter plateau.
Flowers. Highly saturated purples and reds, gorgeous.
The flowers and architecture set each other off, full of poetry.
Around the garden are scattered old administrative institutions such as the Snow Prison and the Snow Bureaucratic Hall (the government office of old Tibet).
In the bright sunshine, I lazily stepped into the gate of the Snow Prison. The exhibition hall was very dark, and my eyes hadn’t adjusted yet, so I had to tread gingerly.
The moment my eyes made out the exhibits, I was so startled I shuddered—
Inside a display case lay several (replica) pieces of human skin.
I was like, ???!!!
Inside, this prison was nothing like its poetic name. It had actually recreated the three main execution scenes of Tibet’s feudal era: leg-breaking, eye-gouging, and scorpion torture. Wax figures being tortured, combined with lighting and sound effects and props, vividly and chillingly brought you face to face with fear!
Where there is sunlight, there is shadow. Sometimes, the more saintly things appear on the surface, the more terrifying the shadows beneath.
All the sunshine I’d just absorbed was scared right out of me; I hurried back out into the light.
The second ticket check is halfway up the hill. All visitors queue here to buy tickets, so it was the most crowded spot.
After getting the ticket, you need to climb a slope. On a plateau, climbing makes you short of breath, so everyone takes three steps and rests two.
The third ticket check is the entrance to the palace itself! Yeah—finally!
As soon as I entered, I spotted a little orange kitten. So adorable, so cute.
The Potala Palace is divided into the White Palace and the Red Palace, a striking color contrast. The Red Palace is for religious affairs, while the White Palace was the seat of combined political and religious governance.
It was first built in the 7th century by the Tibetan king Songtsen Gampo as a royal palace, but later destroyed in war. Only two Tang Dynasty halls survive; the rest of the White Palace was reconstructed under the Fifth Dalai Lama in the 17th century, and the Red Palace was added after his death. Subsequent Dalai Lamas further expanded it to its present scale. The entire palace houses the stupas of past Dalai Lamas and countless Buddha statues; it holds precious scriptures like the Kangyur and palm-leaf sutras; the walls are covered with priceless murals; it also contains thangkas, large quantities of gold and silverware, enamelware, and other art treasures—its value is immeasurable.
A quick snap after the visit
I couldn’t forget that I was going to eat Nepalese food today.
Nepalese food is a lot like Indian food—this bread with chicken curry was super delicious.
Day 4: Lhasa – Nyenchen Tanglha Mountains – Namtso. Overnight at Shengxiang Tianmen (Sacred Elephant Gateway) campsite.
Today began the five-day, four-night Namtso–Everest loop. From today onward, early starts were required. Early in the morning, I packed the snacks and oxygen canisters I’d bought, and by a little past eight I was eagerly waiting for the driver to pick me up.
The vehicle was a tour minibus that could seat about a dozen fellow travelers, all young people in their twenties and thirties. For a solo traveler in Tibet, a group tour is the best fit.
Today’s destination was Namtso. On the way, we briefly stopped at Nagenla Pass to gaze at the Nyenchen Tanglha Mountains from afar.
When we caught a distant glimpse of Namtso’s blue water, everyone in the bus got excited, looking forward to getting up close.
By the time we reached the Namtso viewpoints, it was around five or six in the afternoon. Visiting the three viewpoints one by one, the lake scenery was indeed beautiful. The views at Shengxiang Tianmen and Moon Bay were especially stunning.
My travel companions using their phones to capture reflections.
But the trash scattered all the way from the parking spot to the viewpoints was impossible to ignore. Used oxygen canisters, drink bottles, and packaging were everywhere. I just couldn’t understand: coming to Tibet is so difficult, how hard can it be to take your trash with you?
Tibet’s ecosystem is extremely fragile. The day I arrived, I noticed from the air that the hillsides on the outskirts had sparse vegetation and large areas of exposed sandy soil. Some slopes had already formed vast stretches of shifting sand.
This area is so remote, not even connected by asphalt roads, so there are no sanitation workers to clean up regularly—how could these people not see that? What if small animals mistakenly eat the trash? What if it squeezes out the plants’ growing space? What if it destroys the landscape, so that later no one can see such beautiful polar scenery? It was infuriating.
*If you’re self-driving or have the capacity, please bring a trash bag and help pick up litter when you come here.
The road conditions on this stretch were terrible—dirt road all the way, dust flying, extremely bumpy. After the return trip, almost everyone got altitude sickness and headaches.
But in order not to waste my window seat, I kept watching the northern Tibetan grassland outside the window throughout the journey. It was totally different from what I’d imagined. Even though it was June, the grass was still withered and yellow, very sparse, not covering the bare earth, with gravel everywhere. Yet this bleak, desolate wasteland was still a paradise for wildlife; all along, I felt like I was watching an animal documentary.
Online it said there were marmots on the grassland, and they were really there! Plump, the same color as the grass, and more than one!
There was also a plump hare. Right by the highway, the same dried-grass color, but with long ears standing up.
And two small groups of Tibetan antelope! Leisurely grazing on the grass not far from the road! Their silhouettes were so beautiful.
My eyes, which are over four hundred degrees near-sighted, were practically on a lucky streak; I was overjoyed.
I couldn’t get photos of the small animals, but in the afternoon I snapped some pretty wildflowers on the grassland.
It was dark by the time we reached the Shengxiang Tianmen campsite. My luggage on the back seat was already covered in a thick layer of yellow dust, and to my greater shock, a big hole had been worn through my suitcase! It was a new one I’d specially chosen in dark green—oh, heartbreaking!
The scenery was obscured in thick darkness, and a wave of enormous discomfort hit. Outside, buzzing sounds; my head felt swollen. Lying fully clothed in a dormitory packed with dozens of people, I began to deeply doubt my travel decisions. Wasn’t it nice to just lie down in Lhasa? Why did I come here to suffer?
Day 5: Namtso – Nagenla Pass – Northern Tibetan Grassland – Donggula Mountain – Nyemo – Shigatse. Overnight in Shigatse.
Another day of travel. Today there weren’t even any viewing platforms; the entertainment was all provided by our driver’s initiative.
The driver found the perfect group photo spot, and we took a snap.
There was even a wild hot spring! Can you see the rings on the water? Those are bubbles from the hot spring.
Evening arrived and we reached the hotel in Shigatse—finally, a comfortable room and hot water! Before dark, I had already washed up and lay in bed, debating whether to continue the following journey. Namtso was really too tough; I didn’t want to go through that again. But the driver said there would be no more dirt roads ahead, so it shouldn’t be that bad, right? Ah, well, I’m here already—time to be brave!
Day 6: Shigatse – Gyatso La Pass – Qomolangma National Park – Everest Base Camp. Overnight at Base Camp.
On the road. On the road. And more road.
Today’s goal was to reach Everest Base Camp by a little past eight in the evening.
We stopped at a few rest areas to take some “I was here” photos.
On the road: G318
On the road: a cool young lady riding a motorcycle to Everest.
On the road: nine twists and eighteen turns
On the road: Everest viewing platform; in the distance lay the top of the world, the Himalayas
Perhaps because the altitude was so high, I didn’t see any marmots or Tibetan antelopes outside the window today—a slight pity.
But! After reaching Base Camp, my whole spirit brightened!
So clean! So beautiful! So high-class! So comfortable!
The sky here was a deep, clear blue; not far away stood the mountain closest to the sky on earth, its peak covered in pure white snow and ice, reflecting dazzling sunlight, utterly sacred.
Glacier meltwater flowed down the mountain, crystal clear, nourishing the farmland and pastures, supporting the Tibetans living below. Many Tibetan families were renovating guesthouses, and I guessed that by next year, you’d be able to stay in comfortable lodges in the village.
Mount Everest belongs to the world. Environmental protection efforts at Base Camp are very strong. At the entrance, everyone must transfer to the electric buses inside the scenic area to reduce pollution. Volunteers at the transfer point handed out reusable bags and sun hats. Protecting Everest is everyone’s responsibility.
The toilets were all mobile eco-toilets, with dedicated staff to clean and maintain them.
The roads were very clean and tidy, and the endpoint was the camp. It was a vast tent area at an altitude of a full 5,000 meters. In the evening, the wind outside was bone-chilling; even in a down jacket, I was shivering. But it couldn’t dampen the enthusiasm of people who had come from all over the world.
Everest was about to turn golden.
On the natural viewing platform facing Everest, there were live-streaming vloggers, an older man playing the violin, ordinary folks video-calling their families and friends to share the joy, and excited me along with my travel companions.
Happy selfies with my travel companions.
After the sun set, the temperature dropped fast; it was unbearably cold, so we retreated to the tent to warm up.
Inside, the tent was very dry. A stove burned yak and sheep dung, but there was no odor at all—just warm.
It felt like the cozy laziness of a winter sun.
I ate a bowl of fragrant instant noodles. (The camp also had hotpot, it seemed for 80 or maybe over 100 per person.)
After eating, the sky was completely dark, and we could go out to see the starry sky!
Oh my god, so this is what a starry sky looks like! Were there really so many stars up there?
My companion took a starry sky photo with a Huawei phone. iPhone night shots were a disaster, just pitch black.
My travel companions also took lots of silly night-outing photos—so much joy.
Somehow, a group of Tibetan children appeared, wanting us to play with them. Just spinning them around in a circle made them giggle happily. They were very “professional” when taking photos, posing as many times as we wanted—so, so cute.
The kids were all good-looking, though the strong plateau UV rays had left their cheeks dark and ruddy.
In that moment, I truly felt that all the hardships I’d endured were worth it!
Day 7: Rongbuk Monastery – Gyawu La Mountain – Qilin Gorge – Shigatse. Overnight in Shigatse.
I hadn’t had nearly enough time at Everest, but the driver said we had to head back early in the morning.
I didn’t dare sleep in, and as soon as I woke up, I headed straight to the monastery.
In my imagination, Rongbuk Monastery was a tiny mountain monastery where a single red-robed lama watched over an eternal flame.
Turns out, it was quite large.
In the world’s highest monastery, the pigeons were up early, too.
It happened to be time for the monks’ morning chanting; I didn’t dare disturb them, so I took off my shoes and quietly looked around.
Right next to Rongbuk Monastery is the highest post office in the world. On impulse, I bought two stacks of postcards, specially stamped them, and mailed them to my close friends, hoping to pass along some of Everest’s sacredness and charm.
Then it was another day of travel.
Qilin Gorge along the way was rather special, showcasing the beauty of Tibet’s diverse landforms.
Not far away stood small snow-capped mountains, and a vast forest of earth pillars grew inside a canyon crack. These stretches of wind-eroded earth pillars would eventually all return to dust. A feeling of desolate beauty.
Day 8: Shigatse – Karola Glacier – Yamdrok Yumtso – Lhasa
The last travel day!
Yamdrok Yumtso, one of the three great sacred lakes. Unfortunately, the weather wasn’t clear enough, so the lake didn’t show its brilliant sapphire blue.
We finally arrived back in Lhasa before dark!
When I returned to the guesthouse, dusty and grubby, the owner whispered sympathetically, “Traveling in Tibet means suffering.”
Indeed! It was so tough.
Back in Lhasa, everyone’s spirits lifted, and we agreed to go out for a meal together.
Speaking of dining, it really is happier with more people.
A big hotpot, a dozen plates of ingredients, absolutely delicious—happiness to the point of blurriness.
We finished eating at midnight, then went back to the guesthouse to crash.
Day 9: Rest and revival in Lhasa
After five straight days without sleeping in, today I lounged until late morning, then slowly found my way to a nearby sweet tea house.
Last time, my attempt to check in at the famous sweet tea house failed, but my heart just couldn’t let go of that bowl of sweet tea. Luckily, there are sweet tea houses on every street in Lhasa, a bit like the coffee shops that dot the streets of downtown Shanghai. I had scouted this one yesterday; it wasn’t crowded, the shop was clean, and I wouldn’t feel intimidated going alone.
At the cashier by the door, there was a big QR code, and the menu with prices hung on the wall—just like a small restaurant in inland China. Living in this unified market of China is truly a blessing. On this 9.6 million square kilometers of land, you can order in Mandarin everywhere and pay with Alipay. Awesome.
Most patrons here were Tibetan; the owner seemed a little surprised to see a non-local like me walk in.
The prices at the sweet tea house were touching! They served sweet tea, Tibetan noodles, and Tibetan-style meat pies. Sweet tea was 8 yuan per liter; I felt like packing some to take away! Most important, it was still so delicious. With good milk from pastoral areas, the sweet tea was especially rich and pure. The only thing was that a liter was really a lot—I drank until my belly stretched.
The bottle for the milk tea. Looked like the thermos flasks we used at home to hold boiled water, back in the day.
The Tibetan noodles and beef pies were also unexpectedly good.
Though the picture may look plain, considering the price, the taste was absolutely stunning.
The soup was very clear, but full of flavor; I guessed it might be beef bone broth. The Tibetan noodles were thick, with a slightly firm texture, more chewy than hand-pulled noodles from the south. Topped with a bit of green onion and shredded beef, it was really excellent.
You could add some chili; the chili was great too—I never knew Tibetans made such good chili sauce.
The pie was also exceptional. It looked like a thin pancake, but the mouthfeel was very special. The beef filling was generous and richly fragrant; the crust was even more surprising. How did they make the dough so soft yet so springy? If I weren’t flying to Lanzhou tomorrow, I could eat this three days in a row.
After eating, I contentedly went back to pack my bags.
Small jewelry and souvenirs bought along the way. Most were 10 yuan a strand, very Tibetan in character. The seller said they were all Tibetan silver, perfect as little gifts.
The street vendor from the day before; the guys and gals all bought a lot.
Flowers and plants at the guesthouse.
Day 10: Lhasa – Xining – Lanzhou
In the morning, I went back to the sweet tea house for milk tea and Tibetan noodles.
I tried a fried Tibetan noodle dish this time—chewy and rich, delicious, delicious.
The flight from Lhasa to Xining is the cheapest, so I flew to Xining, then transferred to a one-hour-plus high-speed train to Lanzhou.
Back at low altitude, my nose finally didn’t hurt anymore. Happy.
