Shigatse, Tibet 1987 and the 2025 earthquake

 In early January 2025 there was a massive earthquake near Shagatse, in the Himalayas in Tibet. 

From BBC

Map from Reuters -

Shigatse city is the traditional seat of the Panchen Lama, one of the most important figures in Tibetan Buddhism.

In 1987 I travelled through Tibet. I went from Kathmandu in Nepal up to Lhasa, the capital of the Tibet Autonomous Region. It was quite a tough journey, travelling by bus and when that wasn't available, hitching rides in back of trucks. Also had to walk some distances when the road had been washed out. I was suffering from the altitude.

From Zhangmu to Nyalam we had a terrifying ride in the back of a truck, going fast up hairpin bends.

At Nyalam we discovered the truck was going on to Shigatse, so negotiated a price, this time sitting in the cab. From Nyalam at 4000 m we began climbing a high pass and saw the first snow capped peaks (30 Sept). 

We saw Mt Xixabangma, at 8012 m is the only 8000 m totally in Tibet. Reached the Tibetan plateau, a really beautiful but desolate area with no vegetarian, barren rocks and clear blue sky. 

We drove along the Friendship Highway to Tingri West at 4300 m. Past Cho You then my first close view of Everest. We stopped that night at a Tibetan truck stop hotel where the Xegar road turns off. We were at 4300 m and I was suffering from the altitude. 

Thankfully Shigatse is lower as I couldn't afford to go any higher. But we had to go up first. We climbed the Lak Pa La pass at 5220 m, the highest I've been. Then over the Po La pass at 4500 m. The journey was a bit of a blur for me. I experienced the first really smelly Tibetan toilet when we stopped for salt tea.

We eventually reached Shigatse and were dropped off outside town. We walked in really slowly as both felt lethargic. We got a 3 bedded room in the Tibetan Hotel No 1 for 83p each, then collapsed exhausted. I later had my first wash for 4 days, in the courtyard from a cold water tap, mixing it with a bowl of hot water meant for tea, and the locals thought it was a spectator sport! There is not much water in the mountainous areas of Tibet. 

The next morning, after trying to get rid of an altitude headache, we set off for Tashilhunpo Monastery. But we weren't allowed in as we were wearing shorts - having washed our trousers that had accumulated several days worth of dust - the atmosphere is very dusty in the dry air. The Tashi Lhunpo Monastery was founded in 1447 and was formerly the home of the Panchen Lama. More than 4000 monks used to live here. 

So we crawled into town, unable to go any faster in the altitude. Shigatse is at 3860 m and the oxygen content of the air is only 67% of that at sea level. We ambled around the market. Many stalls were selling odourful yak cheese, wrapped up in skin -

Meat stalls were selling every part of the goat, from the head to the fur and there were many split heads along with legs, stomachs etc, but most of the meat looked really dry. Dogs sat below the stalls.

We walked down the road towards the fort. The Shigatse Dzong, also known as Samdruptse Dzong was dismantled during the Cultural Revolution in 1959 and very little remained. But it was rebuilt in 2007.

This is the rebuilt fort, photo from Wikipedia -

The town was quiet and peaceful, considering it is Tibet's second largest city. We saw no cars at all and very few bikes. There were some nice  buildings but it was all typically Chinese. We looked at some of the local stores and bought a tin of pineapple! It was a slow crawl back to the hotel, slightly uphill.

After lunch we changed into trousers to tackle the monastery. We were in luck, even though it is officially closed in the afternoons. Paid the entry and went in - it is like a small town in itself.

The Panchen Lama was the leader of the Yellow Sect. The Panchen is the most important reincarnation after the Dalai Lama. We walked around the main courtyard and complex which was being rebuilt. There are many halls, all containing hundreds of tiny Buddhas but few big ones. We saw the kitchen containing huge cauldrons and implements, then the printing works. 

It was really hard work climbing the steps  up to the back to get a view over Shigatse, which is quite small, in a plain surrounded by barren hills. 

I was feeling really lifeless and everything was hard work, not being acclimatised to the altitude. We ambled round to the Hall of the Maitreya which contains the 27 m high Champa or Buddha, but it was closed. Saw many other halls that contained pictures of previous Dalai and Panchen lamas. 

The next morning, as we left and walked past the monastery we saw several prostrators doing kjangchag outside, throwing themselves flat on the ground , although some were using inner tubes or blankets for protection. 

We started hitching for a ride but no trucks stopped, so we walked out of town and after about 3.5 hours one finally stopped and we set off for Gyantse. 

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Tashi Lhunpo Monastery on Wikipedia

Tibetan life at Shangri-La 2005

THE STAR
Saturday January 29, 2005
Getting a feel of Tibetan life at Shangri-La

STORY & PICTURES BY LIZ PRICE

When I was invited on a trip to Shangri-La, I had no idea where it was. Of course, I was familiar with the term Shangri-La, the name of a hidden Tibetan valley in James Hilton’s Lost Horizon (1933).


The writer (above) enjoyed her time in Shangri-La.

As we entered the town, I was excited to see snow on the pavements. It had been many years since I last saw snow. The temperature was about 5°C in the bright November sunshine, and to combat the cold I was bundled up in five layers of clothing. The town, which had quite a Tibetan feel to it, consisted of wide streets with small but brightly painted shops.

Zhongdian is the last large town in China before the Tibetan border. It is a boomtown, the rise in Shangri-La-driven tourism having brought about a bland Han Chinese town. Our hotel, the Holy Palace, was in the new part of town.

On our first afternoon, we drove out to see the sights. First we went to Napa Lake, about 7km northwest of town. I was surprised to see no water. Napa is actually a seasonal lake, and at the time of our visit was dry. It is part of a nature reserve and is surrounded by a large grass meadow, and is an important area for bird-watching. One of the more common avian visitors is the black-necked crane.

The easiest way to see this large meadow is by horseback. A large group of locals dressed in their traditional Tibetan costumes were waiting with their horses and ponies. It was a photogenic sight, but the locals were more interested in getting our custom than having their photos taken. I paid my 30 Yuan (about RM15) for the half hour ride, and followed the herd of ponies trekking across the plateau.

We didn’t go far, but it was a pleasant way to view the small hills, blue sky and snow-capped mountains in the distance. West of Zhongdian, the mountain range includes 13 summits, all peaking over 6,000m. The main peak, Kagebo, towering at 6,740m above sea level, is the highest in Yunnan and one of the eight sacred mountains worshipped by the Tibetans. Legend has it that it is the incarnation of a Tibetan God who helped local people drive away evil spirits.

For those who didn’t want to ride, there was the chance for them to try their hand at archery. And, of course, there were the inevitable souvenir shops. And modern technology has arrived in this part of the world, as there were stalls offering to take visitors’s photos and digitally printing them.

The Ganden Sumtseling Gompa was my undoing. It is a 300-year-old Tibetan monastery on the edge of town. Some 600 monks stay here. As I began to climb the long flight of stairs up, the altitude got to me. I had had altitude sickness, also known as acute mountain sickness, three times previously and had vowed not to go to high-altitude places if I could help it. But here I was again.

As I climbed the steps, a thumping headache began pounding in my skull and I was getting short of breath. I had to frequently stop and rest. I felt like an old grandmother creeping up the stairs. An elderly lama overtook me, but even he was puffing and panting.

The monastery is of typical Tibetan design. Dark interiors, with lots of colourful thankas or religious paintings adorn the walls, and the air is thick with the smell of rancid butter and oil from the lamps. I shuffled around very slowly; I just couldn’t go at normal speed as there wasn’t enough oxygen getting to my lungs.

In mid-June the town plays host to a horse-racing festival which lasts several days, and comprises singing and dancing, eating, and, of course, horse racing. In September there is a festival featuring minority artistes from southwest China.

On our first evening we were invited to a cultural show, but several of our group had to give it a miss as we were suffering from altitude sickness. There isn’t a great deal to do in the town, other than wander around and absorb the atmosphere. But it is a good place to get a feel of the Tibetan way of life. W

Useful info

There are flights to Zhongdian from Kunming (Yunnan Airlines) and Chengdu (China Southwest Airlines).

Alternatively there are buses to Lijiang (five hours) and sleeper buses to Kunming. These sleeper buses consist of three rows of double-tier bunks.

Note that some flights may be cancelled due to ice in the winter, and that the roads out of Zhongdian may be temporarily blocked by snow or closed by ice from Nov-March.

There is a range of accommodation from backpacker types to three-star establishments.

Related Story:
To Shangri-La and back

Travelling through Tibet - Star 2003

THE STAR
Saturday November 22, 2003

[Also stolen and published on Phayul.com.]
Travelling through Tibet

Story & pictures by LIZ PRICE

It was a September afternoon and I was freezing in the bus as it laboriously chugged up the mountain pass. The bus was old and rickety, the windows wouldn’t close and holes in the floor allowed me to see the road.

The wind howled relentlessly as it swept past the bus. Despite the pale sun, I could see gray snow clouds lurking on the horizon. Knowing that it would get colder, I dug into my rucksack and got out a couple of T-shirts, which I put on under my jumper and jacket. This didn’t help a great deal, so the last resort was to get my sleeping bag out, and sit in it. I got some strange looks from the other passengers, but who cared – at least I was comfortable.

After another hour or so, the bus wheezed its way to the summit of the pass. When we arrived at the top, I’m sure the bus breathed a sigh of relief as the driver killed the engine and we came to a stop. The views were incredible. Just a few metres away was a large cairn with the inevitable prayer flags. The other passengers got out and made their way to the flags to pay their respects. I took the opportunity to stretch my legs and take some photos.


Donkeys are a common form of transport here.

I hobbled out of the bus and made my way to the cairn, then stopped short, gasping for breath as the thin air hit me. The lack of oxygen hurt my lungs as they cried out for more air. My head ached with such force, and I realised that, for the third time in my life, I was suffering from altitude sickness.

I felt like an old lady as I slowly shuffled towards the cairn, literally having to force my legs to take each step. It seemed to take forever to get there, and reminded me of a nightmare where one is trying to run through treacle – except in this one, I was wide awake.

We were 5,220m (above sea level) at the summit of Lak Pa La pass in Tibet. I realised this was the highest I’d ever been. But the view of the Himalayas was staggering. I was travelling across Tibet, from Kathmandu, in Nepal, to Lhasa. Rather than taking a tour, I was backpacking with a friend, and little did I know of the hardships we were to suffer along this journey.

We started in the touristy city of Kathmandu, where we obtained our visas from the Chinese Embassy. Kathmandu has been packed with tourists since the 1960s when it was a popular destination for hippies. Since then it has never lost its appeal. I knew the food would be basic in Tibet, so whilst I was still in Nepal I made the most of what was on offer, and enjoyed some good buffalo steak, vegetables, cake and bread.

From Kathmandu, we took a bus towards Kodari, on the Chinese-Tibetan border. This in itself was an exciting start to the trip, as we were allowed to sit on the roof of the bus amongst the luggage and produce, which gave excellent views of the passing scenery. The only drawback was the overhead power cables. These were quite low in the suburbs of Kathmandu, and we had to make sure we ducked in time to avoid becoming decapitated or electrocuted.

The road via Lamosangu followed a major river most of the way, the Bhote Kosi. Kathmandu is at an altitude of 1,331m, and Kodari is at 1,665m, so we didn’t climb much that day. We cleared Nepalese immigration, then took a 2km walk to the Friendship Bridge.

I was feeling particularly lazy as my rucksack was heavy, so I negotiated with a pint-sized porter to carry our bags for about RM3. He slung our two large backpacks over his forehead and marched off. I had trouble keeping up with him, carrying only my small daypack.


Shigatse homesteads.

We crossed the Friendship Bridge which is a 65m long arch span bridge. I was feeling sorry for our porter, but soon realised he was very lightly laden as we saw other porters carrying refrigerators up the steep hill.

There is a large cross-border trade between Nepal and Tibet. Tibetans sell fleece, animal hide, butter and meat to the Nepalese, whilst the Nepalese trudge up the hill to Zhangmu with massive loads of banana and cloth (and refrigerators) and return with Chinese bedcovers and thermos flasks.

Zhangmu is the border town on the Chinese side, aligned along a series of switchbacks, nine kilometres from the bridge. We were able to get a ride in a truck. Zhangmu was a hive of activity: Chinese troops are stationed here, and scores of Nepalese travel to and fro, with some operating shops here. We found a cheap hotel and bedded down for the night.

The following morning, we set off to find out about buses for Lhasa. We wandered around aimlessly then came across a truck stop. We’d heard that it was possible to hitch rides so thought we’d give it a go. And it worked. A friendly driver agreed to take us, despite not being able to speak English. We threw our packs in the back, jumped into the cab and were off.

From Zhangmu, we climbed up through a sub-tropical monsoon forest towards Nyalam, which is 4,000m up in an alpine forest. To get there, the switchback road cuts past waterfalls, rocks, evergreen forest, shrubs and canyons. There was every shade of green imaginable as we climbed steeply to the Tibetan plateau.

The Tibetan plateau is a rocky, arid desert stretching 1,300km from west to east at an average altitude of 4,000m and comprises nearly half of the country.

Tibet is actually an administrative division of China, often called the Roof of the World. The bleak, nearly treeless landscape is one of the most isolated regions in the world, surrounded on three sides by vast mountain systems. Tibet is as large as Western Europe and borders India, Nepal, Sikkim, Bhutan and Myanmar.

Nyalam was our next stop. West of the town are spectacular views of the cloud-busting Himalayan peaks, including Gauri Shankar and Menlugtse. Nyalam is a sizeable town set in a nice hillside. It has a large army garrison and is the gateway to one of the routes to the Everest base camp.

The Friendship Highway continues to Tingri, a Tibetan village sprawled over a hillside 4,300m high. It was once a trading centre. We stayed in a really basic truck stop. I hardly slept as my head was pounding so much from the altitude, I felt sick and was cold and hungry. When I got up the next morning, I found the water in the puddles had frozen. The sky was an incredible blue, and cloudless. I don’t remember ever having seen such an intense blue.


Laundry day: Children using water frugally to wash their clothes.

Apart from the altitude, the worst problems about Tibet are the dust and grit. The dust is everywhere and I resorted to wearing a scarf around my face to cover my nose and mouth. It was impossible to run a comb through my hair as it was absolutely thick with dust, so I gave up and didn’t bother about personal hygiene. I certainly wasn’t going to take a cold bath when there was ice outside, and my hair would have to remain tangled and knotted until I reached some sort of civilisation.

Highest of the world’s mountain ranges, the Himalayas are also the youngest, formed by a collision between the Indian and Asian continental plates some 50 million years ago. The Himalayas have the world’s highest snowline and more than 17,000 glaciers. It was certainly an incredible sight to see the world’s highest mountain, Everest (8,848m), at dawn under the blue sky.

From Tingri West, the bus took us through Xegar, and up the aforementioned Lak Pa La pass. On our right, to the east, was Klako Kangari, a 6,842m peak. We went on to Lhaze, then had to negotiate the 4,500m Po La pass before reaching Shigatse.

Shigatse is the second largest city in Tibet and is 150km from Lhaze. It is the traditional seat of the Panchen Lama, who comes after the Dalai Lama. The Dalai Lama is the spiritual head of Tibetan Buddhism, formerly also the chief ruler of Tibet. Shigatse has corrugated tin roof markets; the Tibetan part of town is at one end, the rest is the Chinese area of drab concrete blocks.

The remainder of the journey to Lhasa, was uneventful. The capital of Tibet is situated in a fertile plain at 3,680m above sea level, surrounded by lofty, barren mountains. We had reached the real Roof of the World. It was time for a hot shower and to run a comb through my hair. W




Tibetan cuisine

Tibet is no place for gourmets, so be warned, do not go there for its culinary delights. Normally part of the enjoyment of visiting different countries is to taste the food on offer, but in Tibet, eating was a necessity rather than a pleasure.
The staple food of the Tibetans is tsampa – roasted barley flour mixed with yak butter tea (and made?) into doughy mouthfuls . . . which leads me to the subject of yak butter tea.

Imagine a bowl of tea with stale butter floating on the surface. The drink is definitely an acquired taste. Some Tibetan women advise not to drink it cold because the rancid globules of congealed fat will wreak havoc in your stomach. Too true. Normal tea was sweet and milky; sometimes I wasn’t sure which was the lesser of two evils.

A staple breakfast food is momo. These are dumplings filled with meat, similar to pau. The other option is tukpa, which is noodles with meat. Some Muslim restaurants serve lamian, which is noodles, meat and vegetables.

While travelling in the rural areas, meals would often consist of a bowl of rice with a cabbage leaf and lump of fat. I would just go into the kitchen, grab a plate and help myself. The locals didn’t mind and generally had big grins on their faces. There is Chinese cuisine in larger towns, the most common being hot and spicy Sichuan cooking.


Care for yak cheese?
Once we had reached the luxury of Lhasa, which had decent hotels and eating places, I was able to enjoy yak steak. The Tibetan long-haired ox is highly adapted to the harsh conditions here. Yak meat is a common sight in the markets. The whole animal is put on display, and nothing is wasted.

I enjoyed the fresh yak cheese, which is also readily available in the markets. When dry and hard, however, the experience is very different.

It can (last for three years?) be eaten up to three years old. It takes several hours of chewing before you can swallow it down! Often, it is given to kids as a sweet (snack?). On long journeys, it keeps hunger pangs at bay.

Tibetans get their alcohol buzz from consuming large quantities of chang (not to be confused with the Thai beer of the same name). Chang is a milky beer with a tangy taste. It is made from fermented barley, quite similar to the tuak of Sarawak.

One good memory of Tibet was standing on the roadside in the middle of nowhere trying to hitch a lift. As we waited, a group of peasants who were working in the fields called us over. They were all smiles, their faces a ruddy red.

Using sign language, they insisted we share in their feast, so we squatted on the bare earth and ate tiny boiled potatoes and washed them down with chang. It was a wonderful experience – these poor people were willing to share their food with us. When a truck appeared on the horizon, they flagged it down and arranged a lift for us.

The climate is harsh and the environment barren. Wood is scarce, so people cannot afford to heat water except for making tea, etc. People exist primarily on subsistence agriculture.

For years, Tibetans have followed their own form of Buddhism, which originated from India. Their burials are interesting. As wood is sparse and therefore expensive, it means people cannot be cremated. So sky burials are the most common form of burial.

The body is blessed, tied up in cloth in the sitting position, taken to a site out in the open mountainside and systematically cut up as food for the birds. The bones are pounded together with tsampa and this mixture is also left out for the birds. Whatever the vultures don’t eat is buried or burned. Burial in the earth is rare and only used if the birds will not eat a body – a very inauspicious sign.

I didn’t see much in the way of wildlife, but there probably isn’t a lot in this harsh environment. And I didn’t see the yeti, or abominable snowman. I wonder if he saw me!
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