Crazy Road Trip from Lhasa to Ngari - Part 1

From Shanghai to Lhasa, then all the way west, destination: the ancient Guge Kingdom in Zanda and Pangong Tso in Ngari, hugging the Nepal and India borders. We’re in Ngari, Tibet, to go peak-crazy and lake-crazy, chasing one mountain summit after another, one stunning lake after another.

The most scenic national highways in Tibet:

G349 – the best route for jaw-dropping views of Yamdrok Yumtso

G318 – starts at Shanghai People’s Square, ends in Nyalam County, Shigatse

G219 – hugs the Himalayas, from Kashgar in Xinjiang in the north to Lhatse County, Shigatse in the south

G564 – the dream road for soaking in Manasarovar and Rakshastal, and the finest spot to gaze at Mount Kailash

G565 – a magical route that weaves from an icy wonderland into the Zanda clay forests

County Road S304 – from Shigatse to Namtso, via Yangbajing, always in the company of the Nyenchen Tanglha range

*All roads in Tibet are free, but petrol is pricey – drive a lot, pay a lot, no surprise. 92-octane costs between 7.57 and 8.85 yuan per litre; Ngari is especially expensive. Zhongba marks the dividing line: beyond it, prices soar; heading back towards Lhasa from Zhongba, they drop to normal.

Filling up requires registration: driving licence, ID card, vehicle registration—in that order—then pump, then pay. It’s a bit fussy, but mandatory.

In Ngari, 95-octane hit 9.26 yuan. In Shanghai this year (2021) the same fuel was around 6.9–7.2 yuan.

Even colder than last October—you need a thick down coat. April snow was falling in Lhasa ❄️

Lhasa and Shigatse are relatively milder, highs around 15°C, lows below freezing. Ngari’s highs hover at just 3–5°C. It hardly ever rains on the road, only snows. Day-night temperature swings are huge; woolly hat, scarf and gloves are essential.

The air is brutally dry. Lips crack; ordinary lip balm is useless. Nosebleeds are common. Bring medicine. The only remedy is to drink constantly. We guzzled ten 4-litre bottles of water on the road. Four litres a day is the bare minimum.

I started brewing rhodiola a week beforehand. In practice, above 4,500 metres rhodiola – whether as herb, capsule or oral liquid – does nothing. What works are glucose solution or glucose powder, and lots of ibuprofen to kill the headache.

For Ngari and Shigatse, you must apply for a Border Permit. Take your ID card to your local police station in your place of household registration; it’s issued on the spot, usually valid for 30 days. Get it there if you can—in Lhasa it’s trickier.

From Shigatse westward into Ngari, you’ll pass many checkpoints. Driver and all passengers must get out: ID, border permit, driving licence, registration are inspected; all windows lowered to prove no undeclared passengers.

Car rental: scroll through Ctrip. If you’ve got the budget, a four-wheel-drive SUV; a two-wheel-drive SUV is perfectly adequate if you’re counting pennies. Roads are excellent, mostly mountain roads, with very little traffic—maybe because few people and vehicles venture into Ngari. Virtually no coaches or tour groups, only self-drive SUVs.

Hotels: book on Ctrip. With altitudes averaging over 4,500m in Ngari, always pick a hotel with free oxygen supply—old-style bubble machines or fancy diffuse-oxygen systems are a must above 4,000m. Only a good night’s sleep, replenishing oxygen, is the best way to beat altitude sickness and the right way to unlock Ngari.

Food: Sichuan and Tibetan dominate, but you’ll also find Hunan and northeastern Chinese. There aren’t many places to eat along the way. We filled up at breakfast, carried packed snacks for lunch, and hunted for dinner once we reached a town or county. Bigger towns = lower prices; more remote = pricier, mainly due to transport costs. Prices always felt fair, never a rip-off.

Departure: 26 April 2021

Day 1 – 2,250 km

Altitude: 0 m → 2,000+ m → 4,000+ m

Sleep: soft sleeper on a green train

Flew Shanghai to Xining, then switched to a train for Lhasa. Boarded at 20:30, didn’t sleep a wink—like an alarm clock was going off every hour. Mild dizziness and headache. My dear altitude sickness had begun.

Day 2 – 2,000 km

Altitude: 4,000+ m → 5,200+ m → 3,600+ m

On the train all day, reached Lhasa in the evening.

Sleep: Lhasa (diffuse oxygen)

Stopped at Golmud just after 03:00.

At 10:05 we passed Tuotuo River and Tongtian River – the territory of Sandy from Journey to the West.

After 11:00 we entered the Tanggula Mountains, rolling endlessly. Most snow had melted, so the peaks didn’t look tall, but the altitude was merciless: 5,058 metres. The green train crawled over the 5,000m+ Tanggula range for more than three hours. I can’t describe the agony.

Tanggula was a shocker I’ll never forget.

*The right way to arrive in Lhasa is to fly direct or via a connection from Shanghai—after all, Lhasa sits at only 3,600-odd metres—and crucially, you avoid the Tanggula ordeal.

5,000m+ is no joke. I still hadn’t recovered by the time we neared Lhasa. Checked into the InterContinental Lhasa Paradise, a palace that feels like the Potala itself—but that wasn’t the point. The hotel had diffuse oxygen, circulating through the room like central air conditioning. Finally, a good night’s sleep.

Day 3 – loafing around, 10 km

Altitude: 3,600+ m

Sleep: Lhasa (diffuse oxygen)

Abroad, you fight jet lag; in Lhasa, you fight altitude. Today, just strolling and daydreaming. I’d already scouted the best restaurants, cafés and Insta-worthy spots, ready to wander aimlessly through Barkhor Street.

Insta-spot 1: Gusang Zhuhua Inn

On the edge of Barkhor, a deeply Tibetan-style inn with a café upstairs—though we arrived too early, it wasn’t open yet.

Insta-spot 2: Makye Ame Restaurant

We walked straight into Barkhor. The familiar crowds felt so welcoming. Last year we couldn’t get a seat; today we came early and grabbed a window table. The restaurant is super retro. Honestly, if not for the poet-dalai lama Tsangyang Gyatso, I might not have bothered. It serves very heavy Tibetan food.

Insta-spot 3: Adiao Milk Tea

Last visit we circled the Jokhang Temple anticlockwise. This time we made a point of walking the full clockwise kora. Along the way, a charming Tibetan-style tea shop. Cups come in five designs, all beautiful. The tea tastes a bit like the Yidiandian chain. I ordered a Tashi Delek; Ms E ordered a Lhamo Latso. So rich! Their egg crisps were so good we had some couriered back to Shanghai. Friends at home, hold tight for your treat!

Insta-spot 4: Potala Palace Square

We walked from Barkhor to Potala Palace Square. No plan to go inside the palace again, but the square was a must. The garden behind the palace, called “Linka”, centers on Dragon King Pond. When the Fifth Dalai Lama rebuilt the Potala, earth was taken from here, leaving a deep pool. Later the Sixth Dalai Lama built a three-storey octagonal pavilion in the middle, with a dragon king statue—hence the name. It perfectly mirrors the Potala. This spot rivals the 50-yuan note’s famous view.

Insta-spot 5: Cidu Inn Rooftop Café

Cidu Inn is 1.6 km from Potala Palace Square.

Its rooftop terrace is absolutely unbeatable—you can gaze at the distant Potala and enjoy a lovely meal. The only drawback? We got scorched, despite sitting under an umbrella.

That evening, we picked up our pre-booked little white Honda CR-V. I say “evening” because sunset wasn’t until 20:30. The days are long, so very long.

Day 4 – 380 km

Altitude: 3,900+ m

Lhasa → Yamdrok Yumtso → Karola Glacier → Palcho Monastery → Tashilhunpo Monastery → Shigatse

Sleep: Shigatse (diffuse oxygen)

Up at 7 a.m., feeling good, we set off on time. The InterContinental Lhasa was our start and finish point—that sign felt very ceremonial.

It was my second time at Yamdrok Lake, but it still floored me: turquoise water, its signature blue sky and cotton-ball clouds. Driving G349 right beside the lake, every bend I couldn’t help shouting: look ahead, look left, check the mirror—and we both screamed with delight. I thought there’d be no fresh thrill, but Yamdrok Yumtso was pure fire.

Karola Glacier, the closest glacier to the road, sits right on G349, on the border of Nagarze and Gyantse counties, on the southern slope of Mount Noijin Kangsang (7,191m), one of Tibet’s four highest peaks. The glacier spans 9.4 square kilometres.

Even better scenery is on the move: rolling ranges that look powdered pink are snowy peaks; transparent, faintly blue-green ones are glaciers.

We reached Tashilhunpo Monastery around 4 p.m. as planned. At over 3,900m, its Tibetan-style crimson and white walls are well worth a visit. The monastery sprawls across the hillside—a huge complex. Climb to the top and you overlook all of Shigatse. Tashilhunpo’s name means “Auspicious Sumeru Mountain”. One of the six great Gelug monasteries, it’s the largest Gelugpa monastery in the Tsang region. Construction began in 1447 under Gendun Drup, a disciple of Tsongkhapa, and took 12 years. From the Fourth Panchen Lama onward, it became the seat of successive Panchen Lamas.

Day 5 – 390 km

Altitude: 5,100+ m

Shigatse → Everest Viewpoint → Rongbuk Monastery (Everest Base Camp) → Tingri

We drove straight from Shigatse to the Mount Everest Nature Reserve. The road was almost empty; as we turned onto G318, snow began to fall. Shigatse was indeed much colder than Lhasa. Soon we were inside the reserve—empty of cars and people, it felt strikingly like Yellowstone, the illusion of a road trip in the US or Canada. Just us, our little white Honda, sky and mountains. The reserve is enormous, valleys rolling endlessly, roads beautifully engineered.

Five hours later, we reached the ticket gate. For a car with driver (me) + one passenger (Ms E), entry cost 480 yuan. Border permit and ID were checked.

Beyond the gate, it’s nothing but mountains and more than a hundred hairpin bends. Round and round, every turn a fresh view and a new scream. The top is the viewpoint, the best place to admire the Himalayas and seven of its major peaks. The higher you go, the colder it gets—bone-chillingly, standoffishly cold.

The two of us, one car, driving wantonly through the reserve with no oncoming traffic, like entering a no-man’s-land. The hush of being surrounded by snowy mountains felt like nature holding its breath. We owned the whole world.

Down we went towards Base Camp, facing more hairpins. Ms E in the passenger seat and our brake pads worked overtime.

Everest Base Camp has been moved back to Rongbuk Monastery. I thought we could drive right there, but after all the bends, we found private cars are forbidden past that point. You must take a shuttle bus—120 yuan per ticket, two hours round trip. Fellow travellers coming back said snow had blocked the view. Hesitant, we decided to test our luck anyway. At 5 p.m. the bus set off; heavy snow on the way made our hearts sink. But at the foot of Rongbuk, the sun broke through. Clouds still veiled the summit; Everest’s pyramid peeked out faintly, not from the best angle. As the saying goes: to come and not see is regret; to come and be disappointed is another matter.

Personally, I wouldn’t recommend the Rongbuk/EBC stint unless you’re willing to overnight there—perhaps then you’d see the entire Milky Way. For a mountain more famous than scenic, it’s hardly worth it. And we’re not professional climbers. For tourists, the viewpoint inside the Everest Reserve is the perfect spot. That’s enough.

It took another hour to descend from Rongbuk; it was already 7.30 p.m. We chewed on some energy bars and chicken breast (Ms E’s diet meal). Thoroughly underwhelmed by Base Camp, I still decided to retrace those 108 bends back to the viewpoint for sunset. Sometimes you have to take the winding road; the experience is personal.

The wind at the viewpoint was still fierce. Ms E and I sat in the car savouring the sunset until 20:50, reluctant to leave, conquered by nature’s beauty. Then, in a blink, the wind swept the clouds aside, revealing all seven Himalayan peaks plus Mount Everest. Our luck had turned—no regrets left.

*Sunset each day is around 21:30.

We’d crossed the mountain twice by then. After 9 p.m., hairpin bends had no streetlights at all; we crept along slowly. Fortunately, we met no other cars.

By 10 p.m. we were back at our hotel in Tingri County—bone-tired but buzzing.

*Lhasa is just over 3,600m, Shigatse over 3,900m, Tingri over 4,300m. Each night higher than the last. Humans always aim higher, right? No problem there.

Day 6 – 380 km

Altitude: 4,500 m

Tingri County → Pekutso → Saga

Finally slept in. Altitude sickness had mostly faded. Drove 300 km to Pekutso, the Himalayas riding shotgun the whole way. A random roadside stop gave postcard photos. In truth, we were inside Everest National Nature Reserve all along.

After 3 p.m. we reached Pekutso, Shigatse’s largest lake—over 300 sq km. To its south rises Shishapangma. A reflection shot wasn’t happening, but for such an unheralded lake, it was staggeringly beautiful. Two minutes into snapping photos, it started to snow.

I’d read a blogger’s offbeat tip and decided to drive around to the north side. Not a single other car. On the final bend, the whole lake burst into view, drawing a long, joyous shriek from Ms E.

Evening found us in Saga county. Across from the hotel, a superb pork-rib-and-mushroom claypot soup became our feast.

Saga lies above 4,500m, another 200m up from yesterday. Altitude sickness snuggled up again—especially for me. My head throbbed as if it weren’t my own. I tumbled grimly into bed and let the oxygen do its work.