Dege to Sershu

Deciding against backtracking to Manigango before going on to Sershu, Gregor and I decide to follow a rarely used road that hugs the Tibetan border (on the Sichuan side) since it’s possible to follow it to Sershu.

We hitch a lift with some Han Chinese who believe all of the government’s propaganda about the Tibetan spiritual leader. They also have no idea about the significance of the day (it’s the 20th Anniversary of the massacre at Tiananmen Square), we notice nothing to indicate that anyone in the town knows about the date. We ask to be dropped off where the road diverges towards Sershu, but instead are dropped off right at the border.

The bridge is all that separates Sichuan from Tibet. The checkpoint that would have cost 300 Yuan to cross consists of nothing more than the red and white booth with one police officer asleep, I could easily cross the border in a taxi or one of the many other cars that pass by.

After entertaining this fantasy for a couple of minutes, we start walking back towards the road that leads to Sershu, passing a group of soldiers marching towards Tibet.

Twenty minutes of walking later, Tibet begins to beckon, she whispers there are no police in this spot, come on over, who will know?

In the foreground, Sichuan and our road. Across the river, Tibet and glory.

Looking around to make sure that there are no people watching, I find a suitable spot to cross the river.

It’s incredibly cold to walk across but incredibly easy to swim. The problem lies in getting my bag across. Gregor suggests putting it in a taxi and having the driver drop it off at the other end. I’m reluctant as there’s nothing preventing the driver from driving off with everything and leaving me without my belongings and clothes.

I come out of the river to find two motorbikes have stopped. One of these containing two monks tells us there is a monastery several minutes away where we can spend the night and that they have a boat to cross the river. We continue walking with extra enthusiasm and eventually a truck stops to give us a lift.

After a few minutes drive, we pass a bridge, completely unguarded and I decide that this will be my entry point into Tibet come nightfall so I don’t have to trouble the monks for their boat.

When the driver drops us off, just past the bridge, he tells us the monastery is 4km away. As we’re walking, I see a police car coming around the corner towards us, I shout police and instinctively Gregor and I run off the road into the trees for shelter. We’d heard from Elise that several people were stopped by police just outside Dege and driven back to town saying they’re not allowed to be there. The police car hadn’t noticed us and we’re able to come out of hiding and continue our walk.

Four kilometres pass, as do many more and there is still no monastery, it’s now too far to return to the bridge at night however there is still the option of the monks boat so we press on, stopping for some water at a hydroelectric plant. As we’re walking out Gregor notices another police car and walks straight back in and takes some more cookies saying we’re hungry. The people inside think nothing of it and several minutes later we’re back on the road.

It’s late in the afternoon and we still haven’t reached a monastery so we begin to get nervous about we’re we’ll be spending the night. Eventually we come across a Tibetan guy who tells us that the monastery isn’t far (heard that before) and that it’s on the Tibetan side of the river, the next one on our side of the river is twenty kilometres away.

Unwilling to walk another twenty kilometres, we decide we’re going to the monastery on the Tibetan side, the man follows us. We reach the bank and wait for the boat to come pick us up.

The boat is operated by a deaf and drunk Tibetan who has to battle with the current. He rips us off.

We stop by the first shop we see in the village for a celebratory Pepsi and are greeted by two drunk Tibetans who offer us a bed in their home. Preferring to stay in a monastery, we decline the invitation and start walking from the shop to the monastery.

One of the drunks decides to give us the grand tour of the village, taking us to every house shouting something to all the Tibetan women he sees. He stumbles around and makes sure to spin every prayer wheel within sight. He takes us inside one of the monasteries, which really pisses off one of the monks since the man is drunk and we get the feeling we may no longer be able to stay in a monastery. The drunk doesn’t get the hint that we’re trying to get rid of him.

Eventually, a Chinese speaking monk comes out and Gregor asks him if we can stay at the monastery we’d seen from the river. The monk says this isn’t possible since that’s where the senior monks go to pray however we can see the outside and stay at his place. We agree to this and the drunk takes this as his cue to leave us alone, first turning around to pee, almost getting it on his shoes, then almost stumbling over into it.

As we’re doing the tour, this time with the monk, more come out to join us and we take a few pictures before going inside for a late lunch/early dinner.

Lunch/Dinner consists of Tsomba, only this time one of the monks shows us a different way of making it, laughing at the mess we make on the floor.

After spending the first night in Tibet, Gregor takes the boat back across the river to go to Sershu, while I decide to hike into the mountains to see if I can make it further, I’m told the next village is a day’s walk away.