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Thursday, March 24, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Posted: March 20, 2011 by africasiaeuro in Qinghai, Qinghai Hu, Qinghai Lake, Qinghai Mountains,Qinghai Taoist Temple, Tibet Tags: africasiaeuro, africasiaeuro powerpoint presentation, highway, Lhasa, night in Qinghai,photography, Qinghai, Tibet, travel
Lhasa Qinghai Road
What was worse than three days two nights on the road was, nobody knew exactly when we would reach our final destination.
The day before leaving Lhasa, we were contemplating which form of Transport was the most suitable. After experienceing severe altitude sickness when I flew into Lhasa, I decided not to repeat the same mistake again. Altitude sickness can be deadly. I was terribly ill, the sudden pressure difference between near zero sea level and a rapid decrease of pressure at 3800 meters did not go down well with me. It took me days to recover, a visit to the TibetanHospital included. —-
Here we were, at this godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere, at three a.m. now driving through an unknown deep forest. The fellow passengers were all anxiously gazing out of their window expressing their discontent.
No matter how we all thought, the driver carried on till he reached a tiny hamlet in the forest, shrouded in total darkness. Within minutes, he grabbed a box of Alcoholic drinks and disappeared in the night, leaving all passengers behind. It was another passenger who overheard the driver saying he will be back in 15 minutes. —-
The scenery could have been from ‘Frankenstein‘, the movie, since outside looked all eerie and ghostly. No soul, no light, no movement. A Ghost town ?
Some of the passengers took some courage and ventured outside, in the dark, chilly air, still light, yet different from Lhasa. We had, after all travelled for two nights and two days and made over 4000 km by road on the Tibet plateau.
The fresh cold air brought back some life into us. And this moment I felt the slight touch on my face; snow flakes dropping down on me, within seconds the sky was full of them. Somehow these scene always returns back.
The falling snow somehow dampened our frustrations , voices started to fade, with snow acting as a filter. Thick, heavy now fell, covering all the ground within minutes. Waiting for an hour without a sign of the driver, everyone got nervous.
We decided to honk. Another funny thing, awkward feeling, standing in the middle of a hamlet, inmidst of a forest, honking the horn of the vehicle, passengers voiced out their frustration over the delay.
Nothing happened, absolutely nothing for the next two hours. In the meantime temperatures were dropping more now, we started to shiver.cont.
- Qinghai tales (aheneghana.wordpress.com)
- Qinghai tales (africasiaeuro.blogspot.com)
- Xining, a place to acclimatize (picsandlyrics.com)
- Articlealley (articlealley.com/author_1_97855.html)
- How to book your trip to Tibet (picsandlyrics.com)
- Tibet (apalmini.wordpress.com)
- Dege (africasiaeuro.com/dege)
- Articlesbase (articlesbase.com/authors/heinz-rainer/20998)
- Qinghai tales (aheneghana.wordpress.com)
- Himalayan Rivers: Geopolitics and Strategic Perspectives(wakeupbd.wordpress.com)
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Perhaps one should leave them to rest. Venturing out on the Island is not for the faint hearted. Except a few villagers gathering around their usual Temple place, engulfed deeply into their daily Da-Mahjong games, no other soul in sight.
Almost an eerie feeling overcomes me ; in solitude I wander down the path in the sunken jungle of thick, dense Bamboo forest, no sound but the cracking of undergrowth, and branches above the rain saturated soil. At an instance I pause, was there not a faint sound, almost a whisper I hear ?
I stand in silence, listening to the distant whispers. Spoken in an unfamiliar Mandarin, I cannot make out. I am in the middle of the Bamboo thicket that stretches from one side of the island to the other.
The rain is drizzling down on me, leaves scratching, as I move towards the sounds, slowly, trying to avoid to create any noise.
Meanwhile realizing that I have lost track of all directions, with all lush green around me. Flashes of memories from a time gone by come to my mind, sedans and people, dressed in ancient attire, with guards marking in front an back. Tiny, yet immaculate, faces of the past, could they be Ehuang and Nvying ?
Suddenly, as it came, the whispers have stopped. Shivering, the cold, wet surrounding, some miles away from all human dwellings, stumbling across the thicket, lost in thoughts – lost in time.
For a second – a faint shimmer of light filtering through the foliage. No trail, no footpath, still hearing the faint sounds, far away in the hills that surround the Bamboo, junshandao the Island of the lost souls.
Unaware - my premonition - returning to the spot where Emperors landed thousands of years ago, Dongtinghu, its waters come into vision, its shores stretching 100 s of square miles, far away the Imperial Fleet guarding the oncoming vessel carrying Emperor Shun and his entourage. Faint the silhouettes of Ehuang and Nvying, in vain attempt to make out their husbands, who were left on the island. Almost visible sadness, heartache overcoming the imperial concubines, giving in to fate.
Dongtinghu, tales of the lost souls