Travelling By Train To Tibet

As a follower of Banco De Gaia I was apprehensive about taking a ride on the controversial Qinghai-Tibet Railway, knowing that his 1995 album title track “Last Train to Lhasa” was written in opposition to this transport link from mainland China. The railway opened back in 2006, and there is no dispute about its contribution to the influx of Chinese migrants to the Tibetan Plateau. Having read up on the subject, and pondered whether to go or not, I grasped my opportunity to “see for myself” and experience the highest train ride on earth.

The long journey to Lhasa started with a flight to Xining located in the middle of China’s landmass – the official starting point of the Tibetan Railway. Xining is not the first place you would chose to visit on a trip to China, but its location half way up to the Tibetan Plateau at an altitude of 2,200m above sea level makes it the ideal altitude at which to acclimatise before the steep ascent to Lhasa by train. There is an element of “culture shock” arriving here on a long flight from London as barely anyone in the town spoke a word of English, but with the help of a guide it is easy to discovered the interesting Muslim Quarter, and find a decent meal in one of the many local eateries in town.

After 24 hours of acclimatising in Xining it was time to board the early afternoon sleeper train to Lhasa. My guide warned me that there was very little in the way of food on-board, so I should take some food with me on board, and as we approached the station entrance it became clear that the snack of choice was the cup noodle. There were convenience stores with half the shelves dedicated to bucket sized versions of the student staple, the other choices on offer being vacuum packed chicken claws and unidentifiable dried fish and vegetables. For old times’ sake I selected a couple of bucket noodles for my two meal times on board, hoping to arrive in Lhasa the following day in time for a late yak burger for lunch.

After passing through airport style security at the entrance to Xining station, and losing a precious pocket knife that was a forbidden item on the train, I got my first impression of the strict control the Chinese authorities have on those trying to enter Tibet. A segregated waiting area with comfortable seating is available for soft sleeper ticket holders, and 15 minutes prior to departure passengers are ushered up to the platforms to board the train. The cabins were typical of a passenger sleeper train, with 4-berth compartments offering a much more favourable arrangement for my lower bunk which doubled up as a seating area next to the table and window. After finding a small space to put my luggage I took a short tour of the facilities to discover a row of basins at the end of each cabin, and a hot water dispenser for making your own drinks and cup noodles. The toilets were pretty grim with no paper provided, but there is at least a choice of western style or Asian style. Luckily my guide in Xining had advised me to take a roll of paper from my hotel before checking out as there was no sign of any provided on board.

Shortly before departure I was joined in my cabin by a fellow passenger by the name of Yang, who was a talkative middle aged mining executive on his way to a project in Golmud. Despite being chatty Yang didn’t speak a word of English, we spent what seemed like hours communicating in some shape or form using a mixture of sign language and Google’s translation service. The passing scenery of high altitude lakes, rugged mountains and deserted plains kept me going until it felt acceptable to slip on the headphones and lose myself with some hypnotic sounds and expanding horizons of the Tibetan Plateau outside.

Having drifted off to the gentle vibrations of Banco De Gaia and wheel on track, the compartment door burst open and an officious guard demanded to see my papers. It was at this point I realised the train was not “for tourists”, and the few of us on board were seen as an inconvenience to their endless commute to the Roof of the World and back. After a thorough check of my train ticket, passport and Tibet Entry Permit the guard left me to it with a suspicious glance. It was time for a change of scene, and a thirst was kicking in, so it was off to the restaurant car to check out what was on offer.

The choice at the bar was underwhelming - tins of sugary pop or watery beer kept in a fridge with no power, and no sign of a menu board with anything to eat. Undeterred I opted for a light ale and headed for a spare seat opposite a local ploughing his way through a plate of bony meat of some description and rice. The views from outside started to distract from my slightly bizarre surroundings, and I settled in to my book as I watched what seemed a constant trade between flat desert and craggy peaks, but never a soul in sight. As I was finishing my beer a fierce matron-like lady started wiping my table with great vigour, and shouting at me in Chinese. I turned to the other patrons of the dining car appealing for a translator, and was rescued by a group of youngsters from Hong Kong who explained that the tables were for eating on not reading. Having asked to see the menu I was shown a piece of cardboard with a menu written in Chinese, the only decipherable information being the digits after each dish. My new friends from Hong Kong helped me select a chicken dish with rice, buying a little more time to read in the dining car. The food arrived sharply, slapped on the table by the matron, and was surprisingly good with plenty of flavour and spice.

With the aid of Diamox I managed to get a handful of hours sleep, but as the train ascended towards the Tanggu La Pass in the early hours of the morning, the highest point on the Tibetan Railway at 5072m, this became fitful. When the sun rose it became impossible to ignore the change of scenery outside – this was the Tibetan Plateau, with shimmering lakes, blocks of permafrost and soaring snow caped peaks. This section of the journey was spectacular as the train weaved its way through the mountains, passing nomadic settlements and their hardy livestock scratching around on the barren land.  The train arrived in Lhasa’s impressive station bang on time the passengers disembarked feeling a sense of relief and minor achievement, having travelled overland to what was until fairly recently one of the most inaccessible places on earth. Following a surprisingly tasty yak burger for lunch, it was time to start my adventures in Tibet!