8.Silk Road

Lesson-8

Silk Road

By Nick Middleton

Silk Road Introduction

Nick Middleton is the author of the story. This chapter describes the narrator's journey from the Ravu slopes to Mount Kailash to complete the kora. Lhamo gave him a long-sleeved sheepskin coat as a farewell gift. He hired Tsetan's car for the trip and brought Daniel along to accompany him to Darchen.

Silk Road Summary

The protagonist desired to travel to Mount Kailash in order to complete the kora. He hired Tsetan to drive him to Mount Kailash. Lhamo gave him a long-sleeved sheepskin coat as a farewell gift. He made Daniel his companion until Darchen. Tsetan began the journey by taking a short cut to the south-west, which was a direct route to Mount Kailash. To get to their destination, they had to cross high mountain passes. Tsetan assured him that if there was no snow, it would be no problem. They passed through a herd of wild asses, a few gazelles, and shepherds tending their flocks.

When they arrived at the hill, they passed dark tents that housed nomads. He saw a Tibetan mastiff standing outside the tent as a guard. As he got close to the tents, these mastiffs chased his car. These dogs had powerful jaws. As they entered the valley, they were greeted by snow-capped mountains and flowing rivers that were obstructed by ice. The turns became sharper and the roads became bumpier as they rode up the hill. Tsetan's car was in third gear. The protagonist was aware of the pressure in his ears. He snorted and held his nose to clear the congestion. He looked at his watch; they were 5210 metres above sea level.

They faced their first major hurdle, a snow-covered road. Tsetan threw dirt on the snow and took his time driving down that road. They continued on their journey. The protagonist felt pain in his head. He drank a few sips from his water bottle. They were still making their way up the hill. They arrived at a height of 5515 metres above sea level. They came to a halt once more, and this time the fuel tank hissed as Testan unscrewed the top. Tsetan warned them not to smoke near the petrol because it was expanding due to low atmospheric pressure.

They stopped for lunch around two o'clock in the afternoon. The protagonist's headache had returned to normal by this point. They arrived in the late afternoon at a small town called 'Hor.' They were back on the east-west highway. It was the old Lhasa-Kashmir route. Daniel got out of the car and walked to Lhasa. Tsetan was concerned because their car had a few punctures. He had them repaired, and the protagonist waited in a Hor café with a glass of tea. Hor was a depressing place for him. Tsetan eventually reached him, and they resumed their journey. They stopped at a guest house in Darchen around 10.30 p.m. to spend the night. Because of the change in altitude and cold weather, the protagonist became ill and suffered from nose congestion. He was awake the entire night. Tsetan drove him to a Tibetan medical college the next morning, where he met with a Tibetan doctor, who gave him a five-day course of medicines in a brown envelope.

The protagonist was feeling good after a full day of medicine. Tsetan then left him, assuring him of his health. Darchen was where the protagonist was staying. That place had a general store where Chinese cigarettes, soap, and other items could be purchased. Every day in the afternoon, the men gathered at a shabby table to play pool. The narrow stream was used by women to wash their hair. Darchen had one problem: there were no pilgrims. According to the locals, the place would be filled with pilgrims during the peak season. He met person in the Darchen's one and only café. Norbu was a Tibetan who worked at the Chinese Academy of Social Science's Institute of Ethnic Literature in Beijing. He came to Darchen, just like the protagonist, to finish the kora. He was overweight and had difficulty in walking. The protagonist agreed to accompany him on his pilgrimage. They hired yaks to carry their belongings. Norbu finally said, "It's not possible for me," before collapsing across the table and laughing heartily. His tummy was also excessively large.

Silk Road Lesson Explanation

A FLAWLESS half-moon floated in a perfect blue sky in the morning we said our goodbyes. Extended banks of cloud-like long French loaves glowed pink as the sun emerged to splash the distant mountain tops with a rose-tinted blush. Now that we were leaving Ravu, Lhamo said she wanted to give me a farewell present. One evening I’d told her through Daniel that I was heading towards Mount Kailash to complete the kora, and she’d said that I ought to get some warmer clothes. After ducking back into her tent, she emerged carrying one of the long-sleeved sheepskin coats that all the men wore. Tsetan sized me up as we clambered into his car. “Ah, yes,” he declared, “drokba, sir.”

We took a short cut to get off the Changtang. Tsetan knew a route that would take us south-west, almost directly towards Mount Kailash. It involved crossing several fairly high mountain passes, he said. “But no problem, sir”, he assured us, “if there is no snow.” What was the likelihood of that I asked. “Not knowing, sir, until we get there.”

• Loaves – bread shaped and baked in one piece which is usually sliced before being eaten
• Kora – meditation performed by Buddhist believers
• Ducking Back – going inside and then coming out
• Size me up – to look at someone attentively
• Clambered – move or climb in an awkward way
• Drokba – Shepherd

In the morning, as the protagonist was on his way to Mount Kailash to complete the kora, he noticed a beautiful half-moon in the blue sky. The clouds looked like French bread and glowed pink due to the sun, which cast a slash of light on the mountain peaks. It appeared to be a rose-colored blush. Ravu and Lhamo wished to present him with a farewell gift. When the protagonist sent a message to Lhamo through Daniel one evening, she gave him a long-sleeved sheepskin coat designed for men. Tsetan was looking at him intently as he climbed into his car. He said yes and said Drokba, which means kora in the Tibetan region.

They took a short cut to avoid the Changtang. His driver was familiar with the short route that led them to the south-west, towards Mount Kailash. They had to travel through high mountain passes. Tsetan told him that they can only reach their destination if there is no snow, which they won't know until they arrive.

From the gently rolling hills of Ravu, the short cut took us across vast open plains with nothing in them except a few gazelles that would look up from nibbling the arid pastures and frown before bounding away into the void. Further on, where the plains became more stony than grassy, a great herd of wild ass came into view. Tsetan told us we were approaching them long before they appeared. “Kyang,” he said, pointing towards a far-off pall of dust. When we drew near, I could see the herd galloping en masse, wheeling and turning in tight formation as if they were practising manoeuvres on some predetermined course. Plumes of dust billowed into the crisp, clean air.

• Gazelles – an African or Asian mammal with large eyes that moves quickly and hoofs
• Nibbling – take a small bite from
• Arid – having little or no rain
• Pastures – land covered with grass
• Frown – to disapprove of something
• Bounding – jump; hop; bounce
• Wild ass – an animal who have ears shorter than a horse and smaller in size
• Herd – a large group of animal
• Galloping – progressing in an uncontrollable manner
• En masse – in a group
• Manoeuvres – military exercises
• Plumes – Trails
• Billowed – filled with air; swelled out

The route in Ravu was filled with open plains where gazelles were eating grass from the land that had received little rain and disapproved while hopping back in the void. A large herd of wild asses appeared as they moved forward. Tsetan told him that they were on their way to the wild asses long before they appeared. Tsetan pointed out a massive pile of dust, which he referred to as 'Kyang' in his native language. As they got closer to their destination, they noticed a large herd of animals moving at a uncontrollable pace, as if they were conducting military drills. Dust trails were filled with air.

As hills started to push up once more from the rocky wilderness, we passed solitary drokbas tending their flocks. Sometimes men, sometimes women, these well-wrapped figures would pause and stare at our car, occasionally waving as we passed. When the track took us close to their animals, the sheep would take evasive action, veering away from the speeding vehicle.

We passed nomads’ dark tents pitched in splendid isolation, usually with a huge black dog, a Tibetan mastiff, standing guard. These beasts would cock their great big heads when they became aware of our approach and fix us in their sights. As we continued to draw closer, they would explode into action, speeding directly towards us, like a bullet from a gun and nearly as fast.

• Wilderness – wasteland
• Solitary – private
• Flocks – a group of birds
• Evasive – slippery
• Veering – to change direction suddenly
• Shaggy – bushy or hairy

As they passed through the rocky area, they came across private Koras tending to their flock of birds. Both men and women stared at their car, and some waved. As they got closer to the animals, the sheep took a slick path and suddenly changed direction away from the car. They saw nomad tents that were dark and isolated, as well as a large black Tibetan dog guarding them. As a bullet fired from a gun, they fixed their gaze on the approaching car and ran behind it.

These shaggy monsters, blacker than the darkest night, usually wore bright red collars and barked furiously with massive jaws. They were completely fearless of our vehicle, shooting straight into our path, causing Tsetan to brake and swerve. The dog would make chase for a hundred metres or so before easing off, having seen us off the property. It wasn’t difficult to understand why ferocious Tibetan mastiffs became popular in China’s imperial courts as hunting dogs, brought along the Silk Road in ancient times as tribute from Tibet.

By now we could see snow-capped mountains gathering on the horizon. We entered a valley where the river was wide and mostly clogged with ice, brilliant white and glinting in the sunshine. The trail hugged its bank, twisting with the meanders as we gradually gained height and the valley sides closed in.

• Swerve – change direction suddenly
• Ferocious – cruel or violent
• Mastiffs – a dog who is a strong breed with dropping ears saggy ears
• Glinting – sparkle or twinkle
• Meanders – to follow a winding course of a river or road

Those bushy creatures were blacker than normal black, wore a bright red collar, and barked angrily at them with their big jaws. Those dogs were fearless and ran towards the car, causing Tsetan to apply brakes and suddenly change direction. The dogs chased them for another hundred metres before stopping to watch them go away. As hunting dogs, these Tibetan Mastiffs became popular in China's royal courts. In ancient times, they were brought from Tibet along the silk route as a form of tribute.

They began to see snow-capped mountains as they passed through the area with the bushy Tibetan dogs. They entered the valley, which was covered with a wide river of ice that was white and shinning in the sun. As they gained height, the track moved along the river bank, and the valley closed in on them.

The turns became sharper and the ride bumpier, Tsetan now in third gear as we continued to climb. The track moved away from the icy river, labouring through steeper slopes that sported big rocks daubed with patches of bright orange lichen. Beneath the rocks, hunks of snow clung on in the near permanent shade. I felt the pressure building up in my ears, held my nose, snorted and cleared them.

We struggled round another tight bend and Tsetan stopped. He had opened his door and jumped out of his seat before I realised what was going on. “Snow,” said Daniel as he too exited the vehicle, letting in a breath of cold air as he did so.

A swathe of the white stuff lay across the track in front of us, stretching for maybe fifteen metres before it petered out and the dirt trail reappeared. The snow continued on either side of us, smoothing the abrupt bank on the upslope side. The bank was too steep for our vehicle to scale, so there was no way round the snow patch. I joined Daniel as Tsetan stepped on to the encrusted snow and began to slither and slide forward, stamping his foot from time to time to ascertain how sturdy it was. I looked at my wristwatch. We were at 5,210 metres above sea level.

• Daubed – spread a thick sticky substance on a surface carelessly
• Lichen – a slow-growing plant which grows on walls, trees or rocks
• Clung – hold tightly onto something
• Swathe – a long strip of land
• Petered out – to diminish gradually and stop
• Encrusted – decorated with a hard surface layer
• Slither – to move smoothly over a surface

The driver was in third gear as the turns became sharper and the ride became bumpier. They then moved away from the road that ran parallel to the icy river. It had steep slopes and large rocks that were covered in thick sticky orange lichen. There were snow chunks beneath the rocks. When the protagonist felt pressure in his ears, he snorted and held his nose to clear them. Tsetan stopped the car and jumped out of his seat after another sharp turn. David did the same thing. In his excitement, he exclaimed "snow."

A long track of snow appeared in front of them, about fifteen metres long, before it faded and the normal dirty track reappeared. The snow was on both sides of them, making it difficult to move the vehicle. Tsetan tried to move smoothly across the snowy surface by stamping his foot on it, and the protagonist joined him. They were 5,210 metres above sea level when the protagonist noticed his wristwatch.

The snow didn’t look too deep to me, but the danger wasn’t its depth, Daniel said, so much as its icy top layer. “If we slip off, the car could turn over,” he suggested, as we saw Tsetan grab handfuls of dirt and fling them across the frozen surface. We both pitched in and, when the snow was spread with soil, Daniel and I stayed out of the vehicle to lighten Tsetan’s load. He backed up and drove towards the dirty snow, eased the car on to its icy surface and slowly drove its length without apparent difficulty.

Ten minutes later, we stopped at another blockage. “Not good, sir,” Tsetan announced as he jumped out again to survey the scene. This time he decided to try and drive round the snow. The slope was steep and studded with major rocks, but somehow Tsetan negotiated them, his four-wheel-drive vehicle lurching from one obstacle to the next. In so doing he cut off one of the hairpin bends, regaining the trail further up where the snow had not drifted.

• Fling – throw
• Lurching – listing

The snow was thick beneath the icy surface. Daniel suggested that if they turned their car over, they might be able to slip off. Tsetan snapped a handful of dirt and threw it across the icy surface. They pitched in and assisted Tsetan until the snow with soil appeared and loaded Tsetan's tension. He returned to the car and drove slowly to the more comfortable side of the road. Tsetan stopped again after ten minutes as another obstacle appeared in front of them. They drove around the icy path, which was steep and strewn with rocks. He continued driving from the hairpin bend, moving on the higher side where the snow remained.

I checked my watch again as we continued to climb in the bright sunshine. We crept past 5,400 metres and my head began to throb horribly. I took gulps from my water bottle, which is supposed to help a rapid ascent.

We finally reached the top of the pass at 5,515 metres. It was marked by a large cairn of rocks festooned with white silk scarves and ragged prayer flags. We all took a turn round the cairn, in a clockwise direction as is the tradition, and Tsetan checked the tyres on his vehicle. He stopped at the petrol tank and partially unscrewed the top, which emitted a loud hiss. The lower atmospheric pressure was allowing the fuel to expand. It sounded dangerous to me. “Maybe, sir,” Tsetan laughed “but no smoking.”

• Throb – pulsate
• Ascent – climb on an upward slope
• Cairn of rocks – the pile of stone on the top of the mountain, especially where someone is buried.
• Festooned – decorated

While climbing the mountain in the bright sunlight, the protagonist checked his watch once more. They climbed to a height of 5400 metres, and his head began to pulsate once more. He drank a few sips of water from his bottle as he climbed the slope.

They arrived at a height of 5,515 metres, where a large pile of stone was decorated with white silk scarves and some filthy prayer flags. They took a clockwise turn around that stone, as is tradition, and the driver checked his vehicle's tyres. He came to a halt in front of the petrol tank and unscrewed its cap, which made a loud hissing noise as the pressure caused the fuel to expand. The driver told him that while it was possible that it was dangerous, he should not smoke in the area.

My headache soon cleared as we careered down the other side of the pass. It was two o’clock by the time we stopped for lunch. We ate hot noodles inside a long canvas tent, part of a workcamp erected beside a dry salt lake. The plateau is pockmarked with salt flats and brackish lakes, vestiges of the Tethys Ocean which bordered Tibet before the great continental collision that lifted it skyward. This one was a hive of activity, men with pickaxes and shovels trudging back and forth in their long sheepskin coats and salt-encrusted boots. All wore sunglasses against the glare as a steady stream of blue trucks emerged from the blindingly white lake laden with piles of salt.

By late afternoon we had reached the small town of Hor, back on the main east-west highway that followed the old trade route from Lhasa to Kashmir. Daniel, who was returning to Lhasa, found a ride in a truck so Tsetan and I bade him farewell outside a tyre-repair shop. We had suffered two punctures in quick succession on the drive down from the salt lake and Tsetan was eager to have them fixed since they left him with no spares. Besides, the second tyre he’d changed had been replaced by one that was as smooth as my bald head.

• Careered down – sinking the slope
• Salt flats – thatched roof covered with snow
• Pockmarked – disfigured with a scar
• Brackish – slightly salty water
• Vestiges – a trace of something that is disappearing
• Laden – loaded

As they descended the slope, his headache faded away. They stopped for lunch at a long canvas tent beside the dry salt lake at two o'clock. They served hot noodles. The plateau had been defaced, and the lake was filled with salty water, with a snow-covered thatched roof. It contained traces of the extinct Tethys Ocean, which used to border Tibet prior to the continent's collision. There were a few men working there with pickaxes and shovels. They were dressed in sunglasses to reduce the glare from the blue trucks loaded with salt, salt-encrusted boots, and long sheepskin coats.

They arrived in Hor town in the late afternoon and returned to the east-west highway, which was an old route from Lhasa to Kashmir. Daniel found a ride on his way back to Lhasa, and they both bid him farewell at a tyre repair shop. Tsetan was eager to get their car fixed after it suffered two punctures on the way back from the salt lake. They had no spare tyres, and the second tyre he changed was replaced by a smooth tyre, just like the protagonist's head.

Hor was a grim, miserable place. There was no vegetation whatsoever, just dust and rocks, liberally scattered with years of accumulated refuse, which was unfortunate given that the town sat on the shore of Lake Manasarovar, Tibet’s most venerated stretch of water. Ancient Hindu and Buddhist cosmology pinpoints Manasarovar as the source of four great Indian rivers: the Indus, the Ganges, the Sutlej and the Brahmaputra. Actually only the Sutlej flows from the lake, but the headwaters of the others all rise nearby on the flanks of Mount Kailash. We were within striking distance of the great mountain and I was eager to forge ahead.

But I had to wait. Tsetan told me to go and drink some tea in Hor’s only cafe which, like all the other buildings in town, was constructed from badly painted concrete and had three broken windows. The good view of the lake through one of them helped to compensate for the draught.

• Grim – ugly or grey
• Accumulated – gathered
• Venerated – respected
• Cosmology – science about the origin and development of the universe
• Flanks – sides
• Forge – put together; build-up

Hor was a dull and horrible place with no vegetation and only dust and rocks. It's scattered with trash, and it's unfortunate that it's on the shores of Lake Mansarovar, Tibet's most respected body of water. It is made up of four Indian rivers, according to ancient Hindu and Buddhist cosmologists: the Indus, the Ganges, the Sutlej, and the Brahmaputra. The Sutlej River flows from this lake, and three other rivers rise near Mount Kailash's peaks. They were a long way apart, and he was eager to get started.

He waited for Tsetan while drinking tea at Hor's café, which was made of painted concrete and had three broken windows. However, it had a nice view of the lake.

I was served by a Chinese youth in military uniform who spread the grease around on my table with a filthy rag before bringing me a glass and a thermos of tea.

Half an hour later, Tsetan relieved me from my solitary confinement and we drove past a lot more rocks and rubbish westwards out of town towards Mount Kailash.

My experience in Hor came as a stark contrast to accounts I’d read of earlier travellers’ first encounters with Lake Manasarovar. Ekai Kawaguchi, a Japanese monk who had arrived there in 1900, was so moved by the sanctity of the lake that he burst into tears. A couple of years later, the hallowed waters had a similar effect on Sven Hedin, a Swede who wasn’t prone to sentimental outbursts.

• Filthy – dirty
• Rag – scrap cloth
• Solitary – private
• Confinement – detention; captivity
• Stark – plain
• Sanctity – pure

A Chinese boy dressed in a military uniform served the protagonist. He used a dirty cloth to wipe the grease off his table and brought him a glass and a thermos of tea. Tsetan released him from his private detention, and they continued on their journey, passing more rocks and rubbish.

The protagonist's experience was diametrically opposed to what he read about travellers' first encounters with the town. Ekai Kawaguchi, a Japanese monk who arrived in town in 1900, was moved to tears by the purity of the lake. After a few years, Sven Hedin, a Swedish man who did not have such an emotional outburst, experienced a similar effect.

It was dark by the time we finally left again and after 10.30 p.m. we drew up outside a guest house in Darchen for what turned out to be another troubled night. Kicking around in the open-air rubbish dump that passed for the town of Hor had set off my cold once more, though if truth be told it had never quite disappeared with my herbal tea. One of my nostrils was blocked again and as I lay down to sleep, I wasn’t convinced that the other would provide me with sufficient oxygen. My watch told me I was at 4,760 metres. It wasn’t much higher than Ravu, and there I’d been gasping for oxygen several times every night. I’d grown accustomed to these nocturnal disturbances by now, but they still scared me.

Tired and hungry, I started breathing through my mouth. After a while, I switched to single-nostril power which seemed to be admitting enough oxygen but, just as I was drifting off, I woke up abruptly.

Something was wrong. My chest felt strangely heavy and I sat up, a movement that cleared my nasal passages almost instantly and relieved the feeling in my chest. Curious, I thought.

• Nocturnal – night time

It was dark when they resumed their journey from Hor at the time. They decided to stay in a guest house in Darchen after 10.30 p.m., which turned out to be a difficult night for him. Hor's rubbish dump aggravated his cold, and herbal tea didn't help either. As he lay on the bed, one of his nostrils was blocked. He wasn't getting enough oxygen, so he looked at his watch. He was at a height of 4760 metres above sea level. Ravu was not taller than him, but he would be out of breath several times during the night. He was so used to these nighttime disturbances that he was terrified this time.

He began breathing through his mouth because he was tired and hungry. He went back to breathing through a single nostril, and as soon as he was about to fall asleep, he would wake up. His chest felt heavy, and he wasn't feeling well. He sat up, which helped to clear his nasal passages. He was curious.

I lay back down and tried again. Same result. I was on the point of disappearing into the land of nod when something told me not to. It must have been those emergency electrical impulses again, but this was not the same as on previous occasions. This time, I wasn’t gasping for breath, I was simply not allowed to go to sleep.

Sitting up once more immediately made me feel better. I could breathe freely and my chest felt fine. But as soon as I lay down, my sinuses filled and my chest was odd. I tried propping myself upright against the wall, but now I couldn’t manage to relax enough to drop off. I couldn’t put my finger on the reason, but I was afraid to go to sleep. A little voice inside me was saying that if I did I might never wake up again. So I stayed awake all night.

• Gasping – breathlessness
• Propping – to hold up

He tried again, this time laying back on the bed. The same thing occurred. He was in the land of signals, and something was telling him not to do it. He was unable to sleep this time. He felt better when he was sitting up because he could breathe properly and his chest felt lighter. As soon as he lay down, the opposite happened. He pushed himself against the wall, unable to relax. He was afraid to sleep now, and a voice inside him warned him that if he tried to sleep, he would die, so he stayed awake all night.

Tsetan took me to the Darchen medical college the following morning. The medical college at Darchen was new and looked like a monastery from the outside with a very solid door that led into a large courtyard. We found the consulting room which was dark and cold and occupied by a Tibetan doctor who wore none of the paraphernalia that I’d been expecting. No white coat, he looked like any other Tibetan with a thick pullover and a woolly hat. When I explained my sleepless symptoms and my sudden aversion to lying down, he shot me a few questions while feeling the veins in my wrist.
“It’s a cold,” he said finally through Tsetan. “A cold and the effects of altitude. I’ll give you something for it.”

I asked him if he thought I’d recover enough to be able to do the kora. “Oh yes,” he said, “you’ll be fine.”

• Paraphernalia – miscellaneous articles

The next morning, Tsetan drove him to Darchen Medical College. It was new and resembled a monastery, with a door leading to a large courtyard. They entered a dark and cold consulting room occupied by a Tibetan doctor dressed in nothing but random articles that he expected. He was dressed warmly, with a thick pullover and a woolly hat. While feeling his veins, he asked him a few questions. He told the driver that it was cold and that the cold and altitude change had an effect on him. He gave him some medication and assured him that he would be able to perform the kora.

I walked out of the medical college clutching a brown envelope stuffed with fifteen screws of paper. I had a five-day course of Tibetan medicine which I started right away. I opened an after breakfast package and found it contained a brown powder that I had to take with hot water. It tasted just like cinnamon. The contents of the lunchtime and bedtime packages were less obviously identifiable. Both contained small, spherical brown pellets. They looked suspiciously like sheep dung, but of course I took them. That night, after my first full day’s course, I slept very soundly. Like a log, not a dead man.
Once he saw that I was going to live Tsetan left me, to return to Lhasa. As a Buddhist, he told me, he knew that it didn’t really matter if I passed away, but he thought it would be bad for business.
Darchen didn’t look so horrible after a good night’s sleep. It was still dusty, partially derelict and punctuated by heaps of rubble and refuse, but the sun shone brilliantly in a clear blue sky and the outlook across the plain to the south gave me a vision of the Himalayas, commanded by a huge, snow-capped mountain, Gurla Mandhata, with just a wisp of cloud suspended over its summit.

• Pellets – shots
• Derelict – ruined
• Heaps – loads
• Wisp – a small amount of something

He was given a five-day course by the Tibetan doctor. He emerged with a brown envelope containing fifteen screws of paper. He opened the 'after breakfast package' after eating breakfast, which contained a brown powder that he had to take with hot water. It had a cinnamon flavour to it, and the lunch and bedtime packages were nearly identical. They looked like sheep dung and had small spherical brown packages. He slept soundly that night after taking the full day's medication.

Tsetan left him in Darchen when he realised he would be fine. As a Buddhist, he told him that if he died, it wouldn't matter, but it would be bad for business. Darchen wasn't looking so bad the next day. It was dusty, partially ruined, and littered with rubble and refuse. The bright sun in the blue sky gave him a vision of the Himalayas. Gurla Mandhata was able to see a little bit through the clouds.

The town had a couple of rudimentary general stores selling Chinese cigarettes, soap and other basic provisions, as well as the usual strings of prayer flags. In front of one, men gathered in the afternoon for a game of pool, the battered table looking supremely incongruous in the open air, while nearby women washed their long hair in the icy water of a narrow brook that babbled down past my guest house. Darchen felt relaxed and unhurried but, for me, it came with a significant drawback. There were no pilgrims.

I’d been told that at the height of the pilgrimage season, the town was bustling with visitors. Many brought their own accommodation, enlarging the settlement round its edges as they set up their tents which spilled down on to the plain. I’d timed my arrival for the beginning of the season, but it seemed I was too early.

One afternoon I sat pondering my options over a glass of tea in Darchen’s only cafe. After a little consideration, I concluded they were severely limited. Clearly I hadn’t made much progress with my self-help programme on positive thinking.

• Rudimentary – basic or primary
• Incongruous – strange
• Brook – a small stream
• Pondering – thinking

Darchen had a few basic general stores selling Chinese soaps, cigarettes, and prayer flag strings. Every afternoon, the men would gather for a game of pool. They would sit around a shabby table in the open air, looking strange, while women washed their hair in ice cold water from a small stream that ran all the way to his guest house. Darchen's lack of pilgrims was a setback for him. He was told that during the pilgrimage season, this town was filled with visitors. Some people brought their own lodging, such as tents, which they set up on the plains. He felt he had arrived at that place far too early. One day, while having a glass of tea at Darchen's only café, he came to the conclusion that he had few options because he had made little progress on the self-help programme on positive thinking.

In my defence, it hadn’t been easy with all my sleeping difficulties, but however I looked at it, I could only wait. The pilgrimage trail was well-trodden, but I didn’t fancy doing it alone. The kora was seasonal because parts of the route were liable to blockage by snow. I had no idea whether or not the snow had cleared, but I wasn’t encouraged by the chunks of dirty ice that still clung to the banks of

Darchen’s brook. Since Tsetan had left, I hadn’t come across anyone in Darchen with enough English to answer even this most basic question.

Until, that is, I met Norbu. The cafe was small, dark and cavernous, with a long metal stove that ran down the middle. The walls and ceiling were wreathed in sheets of multi-coloured plastic, of the

striped variety— broad blue, red and white—that is made into stout, voluminous shopping bags sold all over China, and in many other countries of Asia as well as Europe. As such, plastic must rate as one of China’s most successful exports along the Silk Road today.

• Well-trodden – much frequented by travellers
• Cavernous – vast
• Wreathed – twisted
• Stout – firm

He was having trouble sleeping, which made things difficult for him. He had no choice but to wait until the pilgrimage season was in full swing. The travellers made frequent use of the trail. He could do kora by himself, but it was a seasonal session due to snow blocking the route. He had no idea if the snow had been cleared, and he was concerned about the dirty ice that remained on the banks of Darchen's small streams. Since Tsetan's leaving, he'd been having communication issues. No one knew enough English to answer to his basic question.

He met Norbu in a small, dark, and vast café with a long metal stove. The walls and ceilings were wrapped in multi-colored plastic sheets with different striped colours. It was made into a sturdy and big shopping bag that was sold throughout China and many other Asian and European countries. Plastic was China's most successful Silk Route export.

The cafe had a single window beside which I’d taken up position so that I could see the pages of my notebook. I’d also brought a novel with me to help pass the time.

Norbu saw my book when he came in and asked with a gesture if he could sit opposite me at my rickety table. “You English?” he enquired, after he’d ordered tea. I told him I was, and we struck up a conversation.

I didn’t think he was from those parts because he was wearing a windcheater and metal-rimmed spectacles of a Western style. He was Tibetan, he told me, but worked in Beijing at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, in the Institute of Ethnic Literature. I assumed he was on some sort of fieldwork.

“Yes and no,” he said. “I have come to do the kora.” My heart jumped. Norbu had been writing academic papers about the Kailash kora and its importance in various works of Buddhist literature for many years, he told me, but he had never actually done it himself.

• Rickety – unstable

That café only had one window, which he would use to see his notebook clearly, and he would also bring a novel with him to pass the time. Norbu once saw his book and asked to sit next to him at his shaky table. After ordering tea, he asked him his nationality. He told him that he was British. The protagonist assumed that he was not a local because he was dressed in a windcheater and western-style metal-rimmed spectacles.

Norbu was a Tibetan who worked at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences' Institute of Ethnic Literature in Beijing. Norbu told him that he had come to do kora. The protagonist was happy. Norbu was working on academic papers about Kailash kora and its significance in Buddhist literature. He'd never done the kora before.

When the time came for me to tell him what brought me to Darchen, his eyes lit up. “We could be a team,” he said excitedly. “Two academics who have escaped from the library.” Perhaps my positive-thinking strategy was working after all.

My initial relief at meeting Norbu, who was also staying in the guest house, was tempered by the realisation that he was almost as ill-equipped as I was for the pilgrimage. He kept telling me how fat he was and how hard it was going to be. “Very high up,” he kept reminding me, “so tiresome to walk.” He wasn’t really a practising Buddhist, it transpired, but he had enthusiasm and he was, of course, Tibetan.

Although I’d originally envisaged making the trek in the company of devout believers, on reflection I decided that perhaps Norbu would turn out to be the ideal companion. He suggested we hire some yaks to carry our luggage, which I interpreted as a good sign, and he had no intention of prostrating himself all round the mountain. “Not possible,” he cried, collapsing across the table in hysterical laughter. It wasn’t his style, and anyway his tummy was too big.

• Tiresome – dull and boring
• Transpired – leaked
• Envisaged – predicted
• Devout – deep
• Prostrating – lying down

Norbu was overjoyed when he learned why the protagonist was in Darchen. He speculated that they could be a team of two academists who escaped from the library. The protagonist was convinced that his positive thinking strategy was effective. Norbu, like him, was staying in a guest house and was similarly ill-equipped. Norbu kept telling him that he was fat and too dull, boring, and tired to walk. Norbu wasn't a practising Buddhist, but he was an enthusiast.

Originally, the protagonist predicted that the trek would be enjoyable in the company of any true believer, but he found Norbu to be an ideal companion. They decided to hire yaks to carry their luggage, and he had no intention of lying flat on the mountain. Norbu finally admitted that it was not possible for him as he collapsed across the table, laughing heartily. His tummy was also too big.

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