Lhasa Trip during the 2021 May Day Holiday

Lhasa travel memories

On May 1, 2021, our school gave us a 9-day break. I finally had the time and energy to do something I’d wanted to do for ages—take a trip to Lhasa.

As for why Lhasa, a big part was what I’d heard and seen in promotions. But honestly, 2021 had been a rough year, and a long journey to change the scenery and my mood played a huge role.

I work in Zhengzhou. There are two ways to get to Lhasa: by plane or by train. Since it was the May Day holiday and Lhasa is a tourist city, I didn’t consider driving. The scenery along the way is stunning, but if you hit traffic, you might starve. Taking altitude sickness and budget into account, I chose the train. Two trains run from Zhengzhou to Lhasa:

I picked the Z265. Arrival in Lhasa was at 16:56, and I got out of the station around 17:35. Due to COVID, controls were extremely strict. The station took the temperature of every passenger. If just one person had a fever, the entire train would be quarantined in a hotel for 14 days, so getting out was a long process. When you’re on the train, don’t pull out too many things while you sleep. The train changes at Xining—yes, trains from Zhengzhou don’t go directly to Lhasa; you switch to an oxygen-enriched train at Xining. After Xining, the train takes on that Lhasa vibe.

Past Xining, there’s a constant hissing sound—oxygen is being pumped out of vents right by the head of your bunk, near the pillow.

You’ll also need to fill out a registration card on the train, so it’s best to bring a pen.

After that, except when it was dark and I slept, I spent my days sitting by the window. The scenery along the tracks is absolutely worth the ticket price.

Endless stretches of land, low white clouds, and lakes so blue they look washed clean. Yes, we passed a huge lake, clearer than the sky. I have to brag about the little animal I photographed by the shore—a lake mouse I captured purely by luck.

By the time we reached Nagqu, it felt cold, with a crisp, chilly wind. You could clearly feel the air was fresher than in Zhengzhou. I took deep breaths, exhaling what felt like layers of stale air. Don’t mind the looks from others—so you look silly, who cares? As long as you know you’re not.

Along the way, it felt like a different season every few miles. By the way, you can meet some really interesting people on the train—positive, upbeat, and funny. If you’re traveling to Lhasa alone, teaming up with people you meet on the train can make it much more fun.

Once we arrived in Lhasa, everyone had to wait on the square to get their temperature checked one by one. At that moment, all you could do was pray that no one had a fever, or a Lhasa trip would turn into a 14-day hotel stay. I’d bought my train ticket a week in advance and started looking at hotels on my phone. Lhasa has lots of guesthouses—cheap and close to the sights. Accommodation isn’t the main expense; food and transport cost the most. If possible, bring a few Henan-style steamed buns and some mushroom sauce—they’re perfect. One important tip: once you get to Lhasa, you’ll likely feel some altitude sickness. Don’t panic or get anxious. Remember, take everything slowly—walk slowly, eat slowly, avoid strenuous exercise. Don’t shower on the day you arrive. Don’t drink alcohol in Lhasa, try to avoid spicy food, and stay warm but don’t overdress. If you sweat, don’t rush to take off layers. Catching a cold in Lhasa is no joke and could be life-threatening.

On arrival day, I didn’t go anywhere. I just slept at the guesthouse. My altitude sickness was a mild headache, which was mostly gone by the time I woke up after 8 p.m. The next day, as planned, I visited Pabonka Monastery, the birthplace of Tibetan script. A taxi cost 10 yuan to the gate, and entry was free. The temple is steeped in culture, and the old peach tree was still blooming:

Behind Pabonka is a sky burial platform. Honestly, you can’t go there—there’s no real way—and it’s best not to. The white smoke you see is from an ongoing sky burial ceremony:

You can’t go up there. Watch out for wild dogs; there are many on the hill behind. Looking out from Pabonka, you’ll marvel at the incredible work of China’s power grid workers.

At Pabonka, watch your step—these are all gemstones. If no one were watching, I’d have been tempted to... reach out and touch them.

This is the heart of Pabonka, the cradle of Tibetan script. Legend says the script was created in this very house.

The white stuff, a senior traveler told me, is a mixture of milk and honey. Luxurious.

Pabonka is worth a careful visit—murals, statues, ancient trees, stupas—I won’t add all the photos here.

After Pabonka, I got my first taste of Tibet’s mystical culture. Then I went to Zaki Temple, the temple of the Wealth Deity of Martial Arts. A special tip: don’t buy alcohol there. Locals are deeply superstitious about Zaki Temple, believing it holds the secret to wealth. The hiking buddy who took me said it’s the locals’ wealth code. They love drinking, and Zaki Temple honors the “Wine Wealth Deity.”

Zaki Temple truly is a wealth temple—everything is about money. The wine sold at the gate gets poured into this big basin. When it’s full, a worker scoops wine straight from the basin into the empty bottles and sells them at the gate. 10 yuan a bottle.

From Zaki Temple, I took a bus to Jokhang Temple and Ramoche Temple. I followed the map on my phone—after leaving Zaki Temple, I lost my sense of direction, and only the GPS helped me navigate through Barkhor Street to Jokhang Temple. The bus dropped me off a short walk away, so I strolled through Barkhor, admiring the distinctive Tibetan architecture.

This is Ramoche Temple.

On the way from Ramoche to Jokhang, there’s an old Qing Dynasty government office, free to enter. Though renovated, it’s still fascinating and well worth a visit.

Jokhang Temple’s entrance fee was 85 yuan; my student card got no discount.

After visiting Jokhang Temple, I was deeply moved. Every step calls for a long pause. There should be many photos here, but photography isn’t allowed inside, and I can’t reveal what I did manage to capture. Seeing it in person—no simple “wow” can do it justice.

I spent nearly three hours inside Jokhang Temple, and when I came out, I wanted more. If it hadn’t been for my growling stomach, I’d have gone right back in. A guy who’s been hanging around Lhasa for ages recommended this restaurant—food’s better than most, but the service is painfully slow.

Makye Ame, the little tavern that Cangyang Gyatso used to visit.

Such a pity I didn’t catch a glimpse of that charming girl who so bewitched the living Buddha. As I walked into Makye Ame, the words echoed in my mind:

Living in the Potala Palace, I am the highest king of the snows; wandering the streets of Lhasa, I am the most beautiful lover in the world.

I worried that too much love might harm my spiritual practice, yet entering the mountains I feared missing the fairest of the land. In this world, how can there be a way to satisfy both the Buddha and my love?

Best if we had never met, so I would not have fallen in love. Best if we had never known each other, so I would not have longed for you. …………

On that high eastern mountain top, a pure white moon rises. The face of Makye Ame floats before my heart.

Oh, Makye Ame

Leaving Makye Ame, I took another walk around this place…

It was striking, but I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s remote and deserted, and gave me the creeps. I won’t write about it in detail here.

I walked a long way and had dinner at the Auspicious Holy Snow Restaurant—another place well worth visiting. I’ll skip the details so I don’t spoil the fun.

Before eating, I strolled around the Potala Palace and snapped some photos.

Then I went back to reserve my ticket for the Potala Palace the next day and went to sleep.

Earlier, the guesthouse owner had told me there were so many taboos at the Potala Palace—do this, don’t do that—and to remember them all. After a few pots of tea, his tone changed: just go, all those rules are imposed on tourists to maintain the mystery of the palace. That… is very Potala.

Next to the Potala Palace, I sorted out breakfast—affordable, no problem.

The visit followed a set route; everything was planned. Although many parts of the palace are not open to the public, it’s truly… very Potala: mysterious, opulent, magnificent, and so much more.

Inside the Potala Palace, within staffs’ line of sight, no photos are allowed—only within their view. I saw a lama leading a woman in her fifties who took videos with her phone the whole way through, sometimes even asking the lama to take photos of her.

The famous Demoness Map

Potala Palace, a palace of treasures—it lives up to its reputation.

Gold, gems, coral everywhere…

The guide said if you sold the Potala Palace, you could buy half the world…

Most of Tibet’s historical wealth is concentrated here. The Fifth Dalai Lama was truly one formidable monk.

No discounts…

After leaving the Potala Palace, I ate noodles and plenty of meat, then went back to sleep. I rested up and returned to the palace at night for the view—absolutely beautiful.

On the fourth day, I joined a tour for a day trip around Lhasa: Yamdrok Lake, Namtso, and Karola Glacier. Dress well—a windbreaker is best so you can adjust to the weather. On the road to the scenic spots, I had sunshine, then ten minutes of overcast sky, ten minutes of heavy snow, ten minutes of pouring rain, then ten minutes of cloudy skies—the weather changed by the minute. It’s best to go with a tour group; renting a car is inconvenient. Lhasa’s road conditions are pretty bad—long distances and rough roads. Remember to bring your ID; there are border checks. The driver will hand out oxygen cans, but it’s best not to use them. To keep the beauty of the sights a surprise, I won’t include photos here.

On the exhausting fifth day, I went to Barkhor Street and Paradise Time Travel Bookstore. A note: there are two bookstores on the map, don’t go to the one at the Princess Wencheng Theater—it’s closed. Both bookstores on Barkhor Street are worth visiting.

I bought postcards and sent them to colleagues and friends.

Listening to guitar music and reading felt incredibly pleasant.

After reading, I went to Lhalu Wetland Nature Reserve—tranquil and vast.

For the live performance, be sure to dress warmly, or you’ll freeze like a dog. After the show, being short on cash, I didn’t join the others at the Lhasa bars and went straight back to sleep.

They say Lhasa’s bars have great atmosphere, and the boutique coffee bars are really interesting too. But I think, when you’re away from home, a guy has to look after himself—getting your kidney snatched would be a disaster. No drinking, no nightclubs.

The Lhasa Museum was being renovated and was closed—disappointing. There doesn’t seem to be an art museum either—another regret. Watching a real sky burial costs 20,000 yuan; I’m not that curious, so I passed.

The return train was the only one, and it passes Qinghai Lake. Timing is crucial. Don’t fall asleep if you want to see the lake; you’ll miss even more beautiful sights. The Three-River Source, Tanggula Pass, highland meadows, yaks in heavy snow—all breathtaking. That’s it. I’ll end here.