The 'Youngest Road to Tibet,' the Bingchazuo Route: Following the Nu River to Lhasa
/ Rambling thoughts about the route
This entire journey route was put together by me and my brother (aka driver Xiao Liu). Perhaps unintentionally, or perhaps deliberately arranged, we ended up visiting all six prefecture-level cities and one prefecture of Tibet on this trip. This long, forty-plus-day self-drive journey through Tibet covered nearly every place I wanted to see. The route was very long, divided into six sections. For the section entering Tibet, we had originally planned to take the Bingchacha route, but by the time we reached Chawalong, the three of them said they’d already done Bingchacha twice, so why not try the Bingchazuo route instead, which we hadn't done. Okay.
So the first section, the route into Tibet: Bingchazuo. Actually, taking Bingchacha would have been more convenient since we were also planning to spend a night at Renlongba Glacier. But no matter—in Tibet, sometimes a detour of a few hundred kilometers seems like nothing.
After visiting Renlongba Glacier, we drove through Bomi, Tongmai, and Nyingchi, arriving at Sijin Lhatso—the God of Wealth Lake in Tibet, now requiring a ticket of 60 yuan per person. In Lhasa, we completed our journey into Tibet. The second section was a rest stop in Lhasa. We brought loads of snacks, sake, wine, mooncakes—the Mid-Autumn Festival was coming. Originally, we planned to go somewhere else first, then come back to Lhasa to rest, meaning the whole trip would involve returning to Lhasa twice. But no matter how we calculated the timing, we were likely to hit western Sichuan during the National Day holiday when crowds might be heavy. So we simply stayed in Lhasa for a few days and then didn’t backtrack. After celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival in Lhasa, we set off again.
The third section was trekking in Shannan. My brother was especially keen to do the Pema Lhatso trek again. Two years ago, when they visited Pema Lhatso, I missed them by less than a month. I had only rainy, overcast weather and didn’t see the beautiful Kula Kangri, while they truly reached the foot of the snow-capped mountain and naturally couldn’t forget it. Since we were here, we couldn’t miss the Lapu Hot Springs either. Over the past few years, I’ve been to Shannan three, four, or five times. I especially love this land. Apart from Lhasa, Shannan is probably the place I’d recommend most. Ngari is too far, Shigatse is nice, but Shannan is the most beautiful, most pristine, and most ancient.
The fourth section was a spontaneously added trip to Yadong—a journey at the foot of the Himalayas. This was added just a few days before departure after seeing my friend’s short trip at the time. I had been to Yadong before and thought it looked a lot like Nyingchi. What amazed us the most this time was the Chudeng Nima Glacier. We were so drawn to it that we endured a 500-kilometer round trip from Gamba to Tingri just to get close to the glacier again.
The fifth section was the Mount Kailash kora and the central northern route of Ngari. Without a doubt, this was the most beautiful part of the trip. As they say, “West of Tibet lies the real Ngari.” After finishing the one-day kora, with limited accommodation in Darchen, we quickly escaped and headed onto the “one lake after another” central northern route. The northern route of Ngari is now fully paved, but the central northern route is still incredibly rough. The harder the place is to reach, the more beautiful it usually is.
The sixth section was the unfinished East Tibet Grand Loop. This was originally meant to be our route into Tibet, but Sichuan had rain every day and even floods, so we had no choice but to reroute through Yunnan. None of us had been on the East Tibet Grand Loop, so normally it would have been intriguing, but we had been on the road for so long that we’d developed some travel fatigue. In the end, we gave up on the six glaciers of Bujia Snow Mountain and the several-day loop around Gongga Mountain. It was proof that a long trip really shouldn’t be scheduled for too many days…
But looking back on this self-drive journey, it’s full of memories and rewards. This article covers the travelogue of the first and second sections.
I. Crossing the Most Dangerous Route into Tibet: Bingchazuo
1.1 Dali · Xizhou Ancient Town
1.2 Shangri-La · Dukezong Ancient City
1.3 One-Day Tour of Bingzhongluo
1.4 Officially Entering the Bingchazuo Route
1.5 White Tents at Renlongba Glacier
1.6 Pilgrimage to the God of Wealth Lake · Sijin Lhatso
First Section (Bingchazuo): Bingzhongluo — Chawalong — Zogang — Ranwu (Renlongba Glacier) — Bomi — Nyingchi — Maizhokunggar (Sijin Lhatso) — Lhasa
II. Back to Lhasa
2.1 Barkhor Street — The Soul of Lhasa
2.2 Zhanang Desert by the Yarlung Tsangpo River
2.3 Mid-Autumn Night · The Day of Prostrations
Second Section: Rest in Lhasa
III. Into Shannan Again
3.1 Another Yamdrok Lake
3.2 Trekking Pema Lhatso
3.3 Luozhuo Wolong Monastery
Third Section (Shannan Route): Lhasa — Pema Lhatso Trek (Kula Kangri Snow Mountain) — Se Township (Luozhuo Wolong Monastery) — Backtracking — Puma Yumco
IV. Yadong Valley, Shigatse
4.1 One Day in Yadong Valley
4.2 East and West Sacred Lakes of Chudeng Nima Glacier
4.3 Magnificent Shishapangma Peak and Peiku Tso
Fourth Section (Yadong + Southern Ngari Route): Shannan — Kangmar — Yadong (Chomolhari Snow Mountain) — Gamba (Chudeng Nima Glacier) — Tingri — Saga — Zhongba — Darchen (Mount Kailash Kora)
V. Kora and Central Northern Ngari Route
5.1 The Most Beautiful Scenery is on the Road — National Highway 219
5.2 Mount Kailash Kora
5.3 Officially Entering the Central Northern Ngari Route — Bumpy to the Point of Doubting Life
5.4 Manually Fixing the Car at Zhabuye Salt Lake
5.5 Rest in Coqen
5.6 One Lake After Another (Taro Tso, Zhari Namco)
5.7 Wenbu South Village and Tangra Yumco
5.8 More Lakes (Tangqung Tso, Dagze Tso, Chagui Tso, Tse’o, Siling Tso)
Fifth Section (Central Northern Ngari Route): Mount Kailash — Yare (Cona Tso) — Rendo (Ang La Ring Tso, Rinchen Xub Tso, Zhabuye Salt Lake, Taro Tso) — Coqen (Zhari Namco) — Wenbu South (Tangra Yumco) — Baingoin (Siling Tso) — Lhari
VI. East Tibet Grand Loop
6.1 Yiga Glacier
6.2 Biru Skull Wall
6.3 Holy Mountain Sapu
6.4 Banbar Three-Color Lake and Lhorong Drölma Lhatso
6.5 Zizhu Monastery
6.6 Riwoche
Sixth Section (East Tibet Grand Loop): Lhari (Yiga Glacier) — Medika Wetland — Biru (Skull Wall) — Holy Mountain Sapu — Banbar (Three-Color Lake) — Lhorong (Drölma Lhatso) — Reyu — Dêngqên (Zizhu Monastery) — Qamdo
Travelogue Links:
VII. Into Sichuan
7.1 Thousand-Year-Old Kathok Monastery
7.2 Paradise on Earth — Tso Kar Lake
7.3 Lengga Tso Trekking and Camping to See Gongga Snow Mountain
Seventh Section (Sichuan): Qamdo — Pelyül (Kathok Monastery) — Nyagrong (Tso Kar Lake) — Shangmuju — Lengga Tso (Gongga Holy Mountain) — Xinduqiao — Chengdu
At the end of August, I arrived in Guangzhou. Adong only decided a couple of days before to join us. Four people, one car—everything was just right. On September 1st, our first day on the road, we planned to reach Baise, and the next day we’d smoothly arrive in Dali. The highway didn’t offer much to photograph or write about, so these two days of highway travel can be skipped over. Here I must praise driver Xiao Liu (later referred to as “my brother”)—he drove alone for the entire forty-plus days, truly commendable.
When we reached Baise, Guangxi, we randomly picked a restaurant and purposely ordered grilled pig eyes, the infamous dark cuisine from the series “A Bite of Life.” Since we were here, we had to try it—be careful of the explosive juice!
In Dali, Nao Nao’s newly opened guesthouse at the foot of Cang Mountain was ready to welcome guests, so we naturally came to experience it and stayed a couple of days. Nao Nao’s place is called “Bashe.” Above the common area is a climbing wall, and downstairs there’s a small bar serving craft drafts and snacks. Besides the stairs, you can also slide down directly from above. The stairwell isn’t wasted either, decorated as a ball-themed background wall that girls love.
Passing through the bar counter, you enter a private cinema. Walking past the window, you reach the back garden—it’s clear a lot of thought went into it. From the rooftop, you can gaze at Erhai Lake in the distance. All the toilets are automatic, which feels especially cozy in cold weather.
Yesterday, when we arrived, we ate the superb haishao fish. Today, it was my turn to decide, so of course we had to eat the Bai-style stone-slab barbecue in Dali. This is the one thing I can’t stop thinking about since Nao Nao took me to eat it on my last visit.
Though Dali is known for wind, flowers, snow, and moon, as a craft beer lover, I’d already almost rejected all industrial beers. Speaking of Dali, what comes to mind? The wind of Xiaguan, the flowers of Shangguan, the snow of Cang Mountain, the moon over Erhai—only this time, I don’t want to tell you how beautiful Erhai is or how hip the ancient town of Dali is. It was just a rest stop.
We went to check out Xizhou, an ancient town only 18 kilometers from Dali Old Town. Facing Erhai Lake to the east and backed by Cang Mountain to the west, its location is truly gorgeous.
We stumbled into the Xizhou food market. My companions were buying tea leaves made by local Bai people, while I casually watched the passersby. This magical mushroom—Yunnan never lacks mushroom dishes.
An old woman held up vegetables and asked people walking by if they wanted to buy. A walking stall, more or less. A woman was making pea jelly, first trying different shapes of jelly paired with rice noodles and wheat noodles, then making a dipping sauce from scratch—stewed chili paste, pickled shredded radish, a bit of cilantro and scallion.
Rain began to fall, and around noon, the vendors ate their lunch right at their stalls.
Xizhou has many old courtyards like this, turned into guesthouses and cafés, allowing more people to appreciate their beauty. The ancient architecture in Xizhou is remarkably interesting. It’s also a nationally protected historical site, preserving many Bai color schemes and decorative motifs.
The most eye-catching thing in Xizhou is the Bai architecture. It has the largest and best-preserved collection of Bai residential buildings. As you walk through the old town, you can see the layout of traditional Bai courtyards featuring three-sided houses and a screen wall. Every street-facing house is repurposed into a different shop. When you look up, the towering gatehouses with upturned eaves and overlapping brackets are truly beautiful.
I took a photo for Sister Hua and the others. This was our third trip together, and every time the destination has been Tibet—a rare kind of bond.
Dali Tips:
🚩 Xizhou Ancient Town
📍 Address: Xizhou Town, Dali City, Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture
🎫 Tickets: Free all day
‼️ Don’t miss the Xi Lin Yuan in Xizhou Old Town. Its golden outer walls look absolutely stunning against a backdrop of green rice paddies or golden rapeseed flowers.
After two days of rest in Dali, we set off, passing Lijiang and Shangri-La. We exited the highway, stopped at the edge of Shangri-La’s old town for a meal, and this gave me the chance to visit Dukezong Ancient City again, the old town that was once badly damaged by fire.
I still remember coming to Dukezong when I was in college, before the fire. Back then, studying in Xiamen, a college friend who often hung out with me would tease me: why insist on going to Gulangyu today, Gulangyu isn’t going to collapse.
So why not visit Dukezong then, so that what you see afterwards would no longer be the same as before. That’s probably why, even though I’ve passed by many times, this was only my second time actually coming back.
This place once had the world’s largest prayer wheel, said to need twenty people to turn. Dukezong was a key town on the ancient Tea Horse Road, and it was the last stop before entering Tibet. Strolling through the old city, you see local ethnic character everywhere—Dongba papermaking, Kasa Tibetan knives, Tibetan incense, stone carvings...
The old town wasn’t crowded; it was sparse. My friends waited for food to be served in a hot pot restaurant, while I lingered in the ancient town, not wanting to leave. We only had the time of one meal before heading to Bingzhongluo to start our journey into Tibet.
Shangri-La Tips:
🚩 Dukezong Ancient City
📍 Address: Kangzhu Avenue, Shangri-La City, Diqing Prefecture, Yunnan Province
🎫 Tickets: Free all day
‼️ This once-important Tea Horse Road town features an enormous prayer wheel. Unfortunately, part of it was destroyed in a major fire. I’m lucky I saw the intact Dukezong back in 2012. Travel while you can.
Our car passed Deqin. Deqin was once a long-held dream of mine; Mount Kawagarbo still stirs excitement every time I see it. But this trip wasn’t focused on the Yunnan-Tibet highway, rather the Bingchazuo route, so we bypassed it and headed straight for Bingzhongluo Town.
Bingchacha has become a popular self-drive route into Tibet in recent years, notorious for being “brutal,” a dream for off-road enthusiasts. The Bingchazuo route we chose is even more remote, rarely traveled. The logical route would be from Dali toward Liuku, but that year Liuku was closed off, so we went from Deqin to Bingzhongluo.
Sister Hua and the others had been to Bingzhongluo and Qiunatong more than a decade ago. Adong spent last year on a motorcycle trip and had already been to Tibet nine times. For them, this was revisiting old haunts, but for me, it was all new. It was dark by the time we reached Bingzhongluo. We found a roadside inn, ate a meal, and went to bed early.
Early in the morning, we went to the Bingzhongluo viewing platform, where you can see Peach Blossom Island, a very famous village in Bingzhongluo. In the past, you had to trek along the Tea Horse Road to get there. Now, you can just cross via the bridge.
We drove up the mountain and arrived at a deserted scenic spot, walking along an overgrown path. The trail had once been paved, but perhaps due to a lack of visitors, it had become abandoned. At the top, we saw another bend of the Nu River at Bingzhongluo—truly, you have to climb high to see far.
Coming down from the mountain, we visited the famous Christian church in Bingzhongluo. One minute you’re on the mountain seeing white Tibetan Buddhist stupas, the next you’re at the foot seeing a Christian church. Bingzhongluo must be a tolerant place, able to accommodate various religions.
Bingzhongluo is said to have originally been inhabited by the Nu people. During the Qing Dynasty, Tibetan lamas who followed Tibetan Buddhism arrived and settled there. Later, Lisu people also came from the Lancang and Nu Rivers to settle in Bingzhongluo, so Bingzhongluo is a place where many ethnic groups live together.
Bingzhongluo Tips:
🚩 Bingzhongluo Town
📍 Address: A town under Gongshan Dulong and Nu Autonomous County, Nujiang Lisu Autonomous Prefecture, Yunnan Province
🎫 Tickets: Free all day
‼️ Bingzhongluo is located in the middle section of the Nu River Grand Canyon. In tiny Bingzhongluo live the Nu, Dulong, Lisu, Tibetan, and Bai people, so here you can also see different religious cultures.
We left Bingzhongluo and continued driving toward Tibet, arriving at the very scenic Wuli Village. In September, Bingzhongluo is as warm as spring, and the bougainvillea by the roadside were in full bloom. We stopped to admire this beautiful village but didn’t cross to the other side of the mountain because we were heading from Bingzhongluo to Chawalong today, officially entering Tibet.
These three bridges tell a clear story of development. The oldest one, Chaohong Bridge on the right, is no longer usable, but in the past, crossing to the opposite bank of the river depended on this bridge. Over there lies the ancient Tea Horse Road, literally carved out of the mountainside—narrow, steep, and dangerous-looking. But this was the bridge you had to cross to get to Qiunatong, and the road you had to take if you wanted to walk the Tea Horse Road.
On the way to Chawalong, we passed the Yunnan-Tibet boundary marker. The greatest impression after passing this boundary marker is how good the road conditions are on the Yunnan side—once you enter Tibet, it immediately turns into bumpy dirt roads.
This is the famous Tiger’s Mouth on the Bingcha route. The old Bingchacha road was precipitous, practically clinging to the mountainside. But on this trip, most sections have guardrails now, so I wasn’t as worried about plunging into the Nu River.
Further ahead was the notorious Daliusha (Great Sandslide) of Bingchacha. The terror of Daliusha is that rocks could come crashing down from the high mountaintop at any moment. Daliusha is a perennial geological hazard—the slightest disturbance could cause rocks to fly down from the slope. When passing Daliusha, you must seize the moment and go through quickly, without shouting, and remember not to stop and take photos.
This really is the most dangerous geological hazard point on the Bingchazuo route. Just the second before we reached Daliusha, before any of us could react... boom... I shut my eyes... When we came to our senses, we found the hood on the passenger side had been dented by a rock, and the windshield had a slight crack. That was probably lucky. Fortunately, the falling rock wasn’t too big, and we were safe. I even took a close-up photo of the hillside; the entire stretch is basically slopes like this. That explains why the Bingchacha route is so difficult—landslides and collapses could happen any minute. When we entered Chawalong, there were countless cacti by the roadside. Adong even put on gloves and picked cactus fruit for us to eat—super sweet.
The distance from Bingzhongluo to Chawalong is about 80 kilometers and takes over two hours of driving. But because the geology is prone to landslides, before setting out you must check whether the road is open. Since we had spent the whole morning exploring Bingzhongluo, our destination that day was to stay in Chawalong Township.
Just two kilometers after leaving Chawalong, there’s a signpost: straight ahead to Chayu, right turn to Zogang. Chawalong to Zogang is about 230 kilometers, passing through Bitu Township, Zayü Town, and finally Zogang. The first hundred-plus kilometers is extremely rough gravel road, completely exposed. The last few dozen kilometers turn into asphalt, making it much better.
But even though it was just over two hundred kilometers, it still took us an entire day. We set off at 6:30 a.m. at first light and reached Zogang by 6 p.m. That day, we were the only car on the entire road. If there had been an oncoming vehicle, I don’t know how we would have managed to pass.
The Bingchazuo route is a makeshift road carved into sheer cliffs, just wheel ruts and gravel. The biggest fear on this road is rain, so I silently prayed for bright sunshine. Even though it was misty when we set out early morning, the sun still appeared as promised once it was fully light.
We were all a bit wild. When we saw that winding mountain road with what looked like an off-road track cutting straight across the middle, all four of us without hesitation decided to take that middle path—driving straight up the mountainside!
On the way to Zogang, we encountered a massive sandslide, many times larger than Daliusha on the Bingchacha route. My drone flew up 150 meters and still couldn’t capture the full extent of this landslide area. I imagine hardcore off-road enthusiasts would definitely not want to miss this route, though it’s also a real test of driving skill.
Because that day we were still preoccupied with the rock hitting our hood and relieved no one was hurt, I didn’t manage to photograph the treacherous, steep mountain sections from Chawalong to Zogang. I hardly dared to stop and fly my drone, my heart was in my throat.
When the vehicle had bounced along and suddenly, after one turn, we hit asphalt, we knew the tough part of the day was over. At that moment, Zogang felt like a big city to us! Finally, we were back in civilization.
✅ Bingchazuo Tips:
This route into Tibet takes only about three to four days.
Day 1️⃣ Dali - Shangri-La - Deqin - Bingzhongluo
Day 2️⃣ Bingzhongluo - Wuli Village - Chawalong
Day 3️⃣ Chawalong - Bitu - Zayü - Zogang
‼️ This was our route. In just three days you can reach Tibet, but the road conditions are extremely rough. It’s best to set off at daybreak—only driving these mountain roads in daylight gives you confidence. Along this route, you’ll go from lush forests and river valleys, and as the elevation gradually rises, the vegetation constantly changes: from Yunnan pine forests to alpine shrubs to alpine meadows, and then when you reach Zogang and Ranwu, the scene shifts to glaciers and snowy peaks. It’s an amazing route, but you must have a hardcore off-road vehicle and a very skilled driver.
🔺 The standard Bingchacha route would be: Dali - Liuku - Fugong - Gongshan - Qiunatong - Chawalong - Muba - Mukong - Qimala Pass - Muruo Village - Jinla Pass - Zhela Pass - Mingqi - Zhuowagong - Chayu
In the morning, we departed from Zogang, driving over high mountain ridges and through river valleys. This was pure National Highway 318, passing over Yela Mountain, which includes the once terrifying “Seventy-Two Turns of the Nu River.” Looking at it now, it seems like nothing.
But this stretch of road holds so many memories for me. My first hitchhiking trip with ZZCC, the stunningly beautiful Ranwu Lake in spring, those people I traveled with—all are wonderful moments in my memory.
The Sichuan-Tibet Highway is known as China’s most beautiful scenic route, and it lives up to the name. Unfortunately, most of the mountain passes now have tunnels, so you no longer need to climb over them. After passing the Nu River Bridge, which guards the throat of the Nu River Grand Canyon, soon we arrived at Ranwu Lake.
In September, Ranwu Lake isn’t much to see—the water is muddy yellow and not very pretty. But the glaciers near Ranwu Lake are a major highlight. Heading from Ranwu toward Chayu, you’ll pass through Lagu Village, which is hailed as “the most scenic village in China.” The Lagu Glacier alone is composed of six maritime glaciers. However, our main target wasn’t Lagu Glacier, but Renlongba Glacier, which is still undeveloped, next to Lagu Glacier.
This was Sister Hua and her companions’ second visit to Renlongba Glacier. Their previous experience was so wonderful that they had to come back and get close to it again. I’d also been to Lagu Glacier once and was awestruck. We all love glaciers, so this self-drive trip through Tibet basically turned into a glacier-chasing journey.
Renlongba Glacier was our most important stop after completing the Bingchazuo route. Compared to all the well-known sights along the 318, which we’d seen many times, we headed straight for Renlongba Glacier. Midui Glacier and Lagu Glacier are famous along the 318, but Renlongba is still little-known. This time, in a simple tent set up by local Tibetans, we even saw photos of amazing viewpoints on a local’s phone, and learned that there are at least four or five more glaciers south of Renlongba. Just thinking about it is so exciting.
The road to the glacier isn’t smooth. You have to cross a fairly wide river. Unless your car is a full-fledged four-wheel-drive off-roader, I’d recommend taking the locals’ tractor! These tractors serve as the de facto shuttle buses, taking you about 5 kilometers to the white tents by the glacier. From the white tents, there are also horses that can take you to the glacier.
Our little yellow FJ was very cool. Even when the water completely submerged the tires, it was no problem—just one hit of the gas and we charged through the middle of the river. Renlongba Glacier charges 50 yuan per person (I’m not sure if the price has gone up), and the locals will drive you on the road to the glacier. But getting back out depends entirely on your memory. Luckily, I’m in the habit of recording things by shooting photos and videos. On our way back, we relied entirely on those photos and videos to judge the direction for crossing the river.
It was while figuring out our direction that we realized there were actually two glaciers in front of us. I don’t know the name of the one on the left; on the right was Renlongba Glacier. Truly a place you can only reach by trekking over mountains and rivers. Once at the white tents, we started hiking toward the glacier. I was suffering from hypothermia, so I only flew my drone at the edge of the glacier and then went back to the tent to warm up by the fire, waiting for my friends.
Deep down I really wanted to stay overnight. The drawback was the basic conditions at the white tents—just a communal sleeping platform and sleeping bags. I was hesitant to ask, but my travel companions knew I wanted to stay. When Sister Hua got back to the tent, she told me that my brother had already decided we’d stay overnight in the white tent.
I was overjoyed, but that night we all got altitude sickness! Even as seasoned Tibet travelers, whenever we stay in basic accommodations, altitude sickness almost always hits. If it hadn’t been pitch black and impossible to find our way out, we probably would have evacuated that night.
Early the next morning, with a light rain falling, Adong and I hiked deeper into the glacier. Even though we were suffering mightily from altitude sickness and the cold, we didn’t see the starry sky (the moon was too bright), nor the sunrise (it was raining), and we faced danger (the ice crevasses were terrifying), it was still absolutely worth it!
On the glacier, there was lots of dust and rock debris. Massive mountain bodies stood right beside it, making it look grey and dusty, but it was still beautiful. To see pristine white glaciers, you’d naturally come in winter, when the glacial lakes are mostly frozen solid, and you can walk directly on them to get close to the glacier.
Inside the huge blocks of ice, there was a haunting blue glow. That blue was so captivating. I could only capture it with my camera and keep it in my heart; beautiful scenery can never be taken away—seeing it is enough.
Adong and I took a gentle slope on the right side of the glacier tongue and slowly climbed onto the glacier. But my heart was racing. My shoes clearly weren’t professional. With the rain, I’d slip from time to time, and I was carrying my camera and drone—it was truly intense. Coming down, I practically wanted to crawl the whole way. But being able to see ice peaks, seracs, and the glacier tongue up close was deeply satisfying!
Renlongba Glacier Tips:
🚩 Renlongba Glacier, one of the rare mid- to low-latitude maritime glaciers on Earth
📍 Address: On the “Rilongba” mountain at the border of Ranwu Town, Baxoi County, Chamdo City, Tibet, and Zayü County, Nyingchi City
🎫 Tickets: 50 yuan if you bring your own 4WD vehicle; extra charge for taking the local tractor
‼️ Renlongba Glacier is very easy to approach, and even in the rainy season you can get close to the glacier. In early September, Renlongba Glacier isn’t as stunning, so I’d recommend coming between December and April to see it at its best.
I don’t know why, but in my mind, places like Bomi, Lunang, and Nyingchi feel so “un-Tibetan” if it’s not peach blossom season. The endless forests—probably only this region in Tibet is like this. No wonder it’s called the “Jiangnan of Tibet.”
When we set out from Bomi in the early morning, the roadside was a classic ink-wash landscape. Morning mist swirled, as if we were traveling through a fairyland. The roads are better now, and there’s even the Lhasa-Nyingchi Expressway. You can easily drive from Bomi to Lhasa in a day.
Along the way, whenever we stopped to wait for food, I’d take my camera and wander around. The pastoral scenery of Lunang Town has a Swiss feel. In Tibetan, Lunang means “Dragon King Valley,” a place that “makes you not want to go home.”
The most beautiful time for Lunang’s forests is autumn. The pine woods were still fairly green at that time. Fans of forest aesthetics would probably love the Bomi-Nyingchi area. Lunang Town has now been developed into an international tourist town, with well-planned overall design and many high-end hotels. At lunch, we had a portion of matsutake stone-pot chicken—delicious.
At Seji La Pass, I never seem to have the fate to see Mount Namjagbarwa. I wasn’t hopeful anyway, so we just passed through quickly at the peak.
Today, our theme was Sijin Lhatso. I first heard the name Sijin Lhatso from Basang. She told me to visit Shannan and asked if I had been to the God of Wealth Lake. Only then did I learn that near National Highway 318, not far away, there lies a lake called Sijin Lhatso.
Sijin Lhatso is only 120 kilometers from Lhasa and just 6 kilometers from Highway 318. The road is now fully paved, and more people are coming. They’ve started charging admission: 60 yuan per person. The driver can try chatting up the ticket seller and might get in for free.
Lakes in Tibet are always so beautiful they make you want to cry. Sijin Lhatso, meaning “the lake with mystical powers” in Tibetan. This was my ninth day flying a drone, and I still wasn’t very skilled, so I only dared to fly close. Looking back at the photos, I should have flown 500 meters high to see the topography of Sijin Lhatso—like a treasure basin, surrounded by clustered peaks, very majestic.
Around the lake are countless prayer flags and mani piles. Legend says this is the dwelling place of the “King of the Hundred Dragon Lords of Wealth.” People who come here cast their gold, silver, and jewels into the lake to pray for wealth, health, and safety. The mani piles at Sijin Lhatso are probably the densest I’ve ever seen. People stack individual stones into mani piles, as if imbuing these stones with life and wishes.
I love Tibet, not just for its beauty, but also for its people, who touch my heart even more. Their devotion, their faith, is incredibly moving.
From the parking lot to the lakeside, there’s a small slope to climb, where a huge array of prayer flags stands. I’m really a sucker for such large prayer flag arrays—red, yellow, green, blue, white—their fluttering in the wind is so uplifting.
“On the shore of Sijin Lhatso in Sangri, when the gesang flowers bloom, we meet at Sijin Lhatso and make a beautiful wish” — Love at Sijin Lhatso.mp3
A peninsula juts into the lake, called Serpent Tongue Lawn, likely from a legend. This brings us to Samye Monastery, Tibet’s first monastery. When King Trisong Detsen built Samye Monastery, he prayed to Avalokitesvara and was directed to seek wealth at Sijin Lhatso. When he arrived at the lake, a venomous snake tried to block his path. At that critical moment, Padmasambhava subdued the snake, cut off its tongue, and threw it into the lake, which became this Serpent Tongue Lawn.
The nearby lawn, resembling a sitting cushion, is said to have been laid by Padmasambhava for Trisong Detsen. While Trisong Detsen sat on it, thousands of gold coins fell from Sijin Lhatso for him to build Samye Monastery. Legends are just legends, as Samye Monastery has stood for over a thousand years. To this day, people still come to the God of Wealth Lake every year to burn incense and pray.
“You’re up so early today.” “Yeah, I’m going to the God of Wealth Lake.” “The one that if you see it you’ll get rich?” Mm, even if you don’t get rich, sitting by the lake, looking at all these mani stones, with the wind blowing over the lake, is still a lovely afternoon. Sijin Lhatso Tips:
🚩 Sijin Lhatso, the God of Wealth Lake in Tibet
📍 Address: Southeast of Riduo Township, Maizhokunggar County
🎫 Tickets: 60 yuan; the driver can try to negotiate a free entry
Barkhor Street filled with tourists, the neon-lit Tianhai Night Market in the western suburbs, the cinema at Shenli Times Square, drinks in Langma halls, and my beloved Lhasa. Waking up in the morning, I went to the entrance of the Jokhang Temple, waiting for the butter lamp room to open. At noon, when the monk handed me the lighting tools, one by one I lit the eternal lamps on the stand. This was my seventeenth time entering Tibet, but the first time I personally lit lamps for you. After that, I prostrated 108 times in front of the Jokhang. May you find peace in that other world and enter a beautiful reincarnation.
I often wonder why Tibet is so captivating. Perhaps it’s because it carries the wishes of so many hearts. No matter what, coming before the Buddha seems to bring peace of mind.
During our few days of rest in Lhasa, we stayed in a small alley off Barkhor Street. Stepping out meant strolling along the Barkhor circumambulation path. The familiar streetscape, but with unfamiliar faces. The sun bathed the mountain peaks in brilliant light, and the Potala Palace was visible in the distance.
“A Tibetan man in tattered clothes, come from afar, looked about thirty. His skin was colored deep red by the sun—the most beautiful plateau flush. His hair, unkempt and tangled. In each hand he held a metal plate, leather knee pads strapped below, and with every three steps he made a full-body prostration, arriving at the Potala Palace, at Barkhor Street. I saw him more than once, in the corners of Barkhor, through rain or shine, on that narrow ancient path of less than a thousand meters. Women in traditional Tibetan dresses, long skirts dragging on the ground, their pant legs tied with rope to keep the cold wind out. Palms together, raised high above the head, kneeling, forehead to ground, looking up—looking up at this Lhasa of the early 21st century. Up and down, sleeves, the leather on knees, the metal plates in their hands, all slowly wearing smooth. The world is constantly changing, but the look in their eyes has never changed. Their eyes are like butter lamps, glowing with a calm yet warm light, serene and intense, carrying primitive longing, deep as the abyss.”
This time, right next to the Potala Palace ticket office, I stumbled upon Fengma Yingxiang, a photography studio, and changed into a Tibetan outfit I liked for a photoshoot. The chosen location was, of course, Barkhor Street. Barkhor Street isn’t big—one full prostration circuit takes about two hours. But it captures the heart of everyone who has stayed on this street. I’d long wanted to have a proper photoshoot of my own on Barkhor, and now it was realized.
And a little rumination on sweet tea houses. Back home, I miss those leisurely tea-drinking days. A warm solo breakfast tea, a group lunch tea, an afternoon tea with a couple of close friends. Old Guangming, Xiquege, Rainbow Tea House, Jixiang Tea House, Qumi Road Tea House… open-air, indoors, in attics. Under the sun, on cloudy days, in dim light. Sweet tea, butter tea, plain tea. After one round, there’s always another.
Sometimes just tea and chat, sometimes tea with highland barley beef cakes, or Tibetan noodles with pickled radish. Or: boss, another serving of fried potatoes. (When writing this, Old Guangming is long gone.)
Strangers strike up conversations with other strangers in Tibetan, which I can’t understand at all. People who look like travelers chat with one another, and generations of Lhasa drifters spend their days soaking in tea houses. I often silently think: how many business deals in Lhasa are actually closed in tea houses; how many relationships begin there. Lhasa’s sweet tea houses—you have to drink inside for the real flavor. That’s all for my brief Lhasa.
Barkhor Street Tips:
📍 Address: Barkhor Street, Lhasa City, Tibet Autonomous Region
🎫 Tickets: Free all day; opening hours may change due to pandemic
‼️ Barkhor Street is a commercial street that no visitor to Lhasa misses, and also a street full of faith surrounding the Jokhang Temple. If you come, don’t miss it.
The first time I saw this desert was on my very first trip to Tibet, ages ago, on the way to Samye Monastery. We set off from Lhasa before dawn, and I just squinted at that sand dune. Back then, the desertification along the Yarlung Tsangpo River didn’t seem so severe. To me, it didn’t qualify as a desert—at most just dunes.
Later, I passed by again after trekking Lhamo Latso and stayed a night at Samye Monastery, planning to slowly head back to Lhasa the next day. I was so captivated by its beauty that we found a place to stop and frolicked in the desert. Passing by Zhanang Desert once more was on a snowy day, when we were on the highway and couldn’t just stop whenever we wanted. From then on, it became a regret. I never captured its most beautiful moment in photos. Just imagine: on the other side of the Yarlung Tsangpo, snow-capped peaks, white clouds, and blue sky; on this side, Zhanang Desert covered in snow, its undulating hills, one curve after another, breathtakingly beautiful.
This special trip to Zhanang Desert came after resting in Lhasa for a few days and wanting to explore nearby. Although the desert is right next to the highway, you can exit the highway just before reaching the destination and drive directly into the desert. Time flies. Zhanang Desert is now Tibet’s first national desert park. I heard they plan to build a desert experience park, a starry sky photography base, and a water park here, but I don’t know when construction will be finished.
The Yarlung Tsangpo River valley experiences constant wind, year after year, day after day, accumulating into this desert. Zhanang Desert is unique. Just like Nyingchi peach blossoms, many places have deserts, but not all deserts are accompanied by snow mountains and rivers.
Because Zhanang Desert is next to the riverbed and has plenty of groundwater, it’s not as dry as deserts in the northwest. When I flew my drone up, I even saw pools of clear water and a few trees along the edges.
Tibetan weather is as fickle as a child’s face. One moment it’s bright and sunny, the next it’s a raging sandstorm. And rain on the plateau is really cute—you can see it with the naked eye! Look, it’s raining over there! The clouds were dragging streaks right down to the ground. Just like when I traveled from Lhasa to Nyingchi the day before: as we were about to enter Nyingchi city, the sun was shining brightly on both sides, but right in the center it was pouring rain. Rain just starts when it wants, wind just blows when it wants, with no discussion. Because of this, on the plateau, you always have to carry both warm and light clothing.
We had a blast playing on the desert. The sand of Zhanang Desert is soft and fine, warm to play in. It really is special—snow mountains, river, and desert all existing in the same space. Nature is incredibly ingenious, able to create all kinds of transformations. I’m so envious I was born in China, so envious I can come to Tibet often and see so many beautiful scenes.
We watched as the sky looked ready to collapse, dark clouds inching our way. We all knew a violent storm was about to hit! Let’s go back to Lhasa!
Zhanang Desert Tips:
📍 Address: Zaruo Village, Zhanang County, Shannan City, Tibet, about a 2-hour drive from Lhasa
🎫 Tickets: No ticket for now; a national desert park is under construction
‼️ This is a relatively special landscape in Tibet. While the hundred thousand dunes at Dinggye at the foot of Everest are also tempting, the pools of water among the desert along the Yarlung Tsangpo River are truly beautiful.
Tomorrow we’ll leave Lhasa again and continue our journey. My heart always finds it hard to say goodbye. Barkhor Street is always the first destination I must visit whenever I return to Lhasa. Lugu Alley One, Jiri Alley Two, Danjielin Alley, Tromsikhang Market—I know practically every entrance like the back of my hand.
These few short days of reunion and farewell with Lhasa, I know I’ll definitely come back. This place has become another home in my heart. During the day, I walked a full circuit of Barkhor, watching the people prostrating. Back then there was no pandemic, no need for masks, and I could clearly see the traces time had left on their faces.
I truly envy those living on the plateau. They seem to have so few worries. Every day they wake up, either drinking tea or turning prayer wheels. Of course, that’s just on the surface. Without talking deeply to each one, how would I know their stories? But from what I see, they really seem so happy. If we too had fewer desires, maybe we would live a little better too.
