Goddess Mother of the Universe

The high rising triangle snow-capped mountain stands high in the sky. Its roc-like head is decorated with crystal ornaments, glittering like the sun and moon, in the lower part of the peak, colourful rainbows are inlaid, while the jade-like eyebrows are swaying in the central part of the mountain. Climbing up this worldis highest peak is the ultimate goal of mountaineering expeditions and adventurers all over the world. To see its majestic appearance is the lifelong wish of tourists both at home and abroad.

So reads the brochure of the Qomolangma National Nataure Preserve (or the State Nature Reserve depending on which page you read). I wouldn't say it was a lifelong wish - certainly I'd been interested - I can remember Coronation Day 1953 and I once attended a presentation by Chris Bonnington, but Mt Everest (or Sagarmatha as the Nepalis call it)was somewhere other people went. But here I was, 60 miles away and yet still not sure whether I was going to reach Base Camp.

Tenzing (how appropriate) had driven us through the check point (please show your passports - only three more checks to go)and had parked up at a guest house on the highway waiting for other vehicles to set off in the same direction - safety in numbers if we were going to get stuck.

While we were waiting there was time to photograph the view across the road - from right to left, Cho Oyu (6th highest) Lhotse(4th highest) Everest (highest) floating in the clouds.

Oh well, if this was going to be the nearest we got, it would have been worth it.

Suddenly two Land Cruisers swept out of the courtyard and Pinsok shouted 'Get in'. We were soon on a thrill a minute off-road ride which took us along river valleys, above gorges, through small mud-brick villages, to more checkpoints, up 1 in 3 grassy slopes (to escape the mud), through the mud where it couldn't be avoided, into hairy situations when we met a truck coming the other way and just to prove that we were in another world, past a nomad village complete with yak hair tents and yaks.

After three hours we came across one of the highest traffic jams on earth - the tourists had stopped to take photos - yes we could see a white rocky triangle - just.

Just a little further on we stopped at the village (a monastery, the monastery guest house and a few houses)of Rongphu. We were shown to our room, shown the loo with a view to end all views (over the top of the plastic sheet round the oblong hole)and welcomed into the very cosy dining room with Tibetan sofas lining the walls and a dung fired stove in the centre. The wind had blown up as it does most afternoons in those parts and it was the coldest weather we had experience - we were after all at 5000metre.

This is Rongphu from the monastery - the guest house is on the right round the courtyard.

After a wander round the monastery we escaped to the warmth and a bowl of noodles. The room filled up with a band of international travellers and the conversation flowed (not the beer - not going to risk dehydration at ths height). We retired quite early, hoping for a sunrise to remember the next day.

It was a vain hope, wrong time of year, but by 9 o'clock we were ready for a lift to the tented village a couple of kilometres up the road from where we would walk the last three kilometres to Base Camp. We hadn't walked very far when Pinsok approached - he'd borrowed a bike and was coming to check up on us. He actually cycled the 3km, waited a while and when we didn't turn up,cycled back and met us taking photos. We carried on, sometimes in shade, sometimes in bright sunshine as the road twisted from side to side of the valley over the glacial moraine (I tried to think what I'd learnt about glaciers in geography - Miss Cartledge would have been very disappointed at the little I'd retained, but she might have enjoyed this blog - she told us great stories after her summer holiday travels).

Although several pony carts passed us with waving passengers, we were quite happy stopping to take photos and make the most of the 3 kilometre walk. After about an hour, the cloud ahead started to part and bit by bit the highest land on earth began to appear.

We couldn't believe how fortunate we had been with the weather (this is supposed to be the 'wet and cloudy' season in Tibet) and this was unbelievable.(Until the next day when Pinsok told us the clouds lifted every day about 11!)

We strode down the slope to the last checkpoint (patrolled by the Frontier Defence Guard) and showed our passports - only people with another permit and a guide are allowed further.

After the inevitable picture with the sign - I had to keep my promise that I would wear my Boro t-shirt - and Roz even made me take off my jacket to prove it (it wasn't cold) we walked up a small shale hill covered in prayer flags and took 'close-ups' (well,as near as we were going to get).

We then set off back and with the cloud slowly closing in behind us we finally, exhausted, reached the tented street, where we were to meet Pinsok and Tenzing, who were - not around, though the car was still there. Tenzing was helping another driver with a mechanical problem and Pinsok seemed to have been checking out places for lunch - he took us to a comfortable tent with Tibetan sofas, where the menu was noodles or noodles and the sign outside said 'Hotel Everest' or 'Snowland Summit' or 'Sherpa Lodge' or something similar - it wasn't the 'Hotel California', but that was there as well!

After lunch we staggered to the car, out of the car and into the room and fell fast asleep. Later, comfortable in the cosy dining room, we started a discussion with Pintok about Buddhist philosophy. Having thought I'd understood quite a bit, I'd become befuddled by deities (but they don't have a god)and praying pilgrims (they don't pray to the Buddha). I'm still confused, but Pintok spoke very earnestly (and attracted attention from other tourists).

The next morning we set off for our last day in Tibet. Returning over the by now even muddier road, with one stop for a last look (around 11am and two hours away from Rongphu)at the 'mother goddess of the universe' we had a short lunch stop then began the long gradual drive over another 5000m pass

followed by a sudden drop off the plateau, down a road twisting through a gorge covered in green. At one point it looked as though a line had been drawn with a ruler to show the rain where to start and stop-dry to the north, wet to the south.

The Chinese are doing a lot of construction work on this part of the 'Friendship Highway' - creating ducts for the waterfalls and supporting walls for the embankments. There is so much work that the road is closed for most daylight hours. At 4.30 we reached the one-street town of Nyalam where we joined with the passengers of many other Land Cruisers to fill the coffers of the town's restaurants (particularly the one with an English menu) for three hours while we waited for permisson to pass. By the time we left - almost a grand prix style start and Tenzing was very clever - he was ready while many drivers were still at their tea - it was pouring and for most of the way we could not appreciate the steepness of the gorge or the raging river at the bottom (probably a good thing).

We were glad to arrive at the customs town of Zhangmu - very Chinese, but clinging to the hillside for all the world like Runswick Bay - and the drop in height made for a very good night's sleep.

Next morning we were queuing in the rain for Chinese customs by 9am. Safely through,we met up with Tenzing again and having negotiated a very difficult situation with a truck coming the other way, made our way down to the border. The weather was clearing, but we still couldn't see to the bottom of the gorge until almost at the point at which it is the border, crossed by the Chinese built 'Friendship Bridge'. (Tibet is on the right, Nepal on the left bank).

As the Tibetan Land Cruisers have to stop here, we piled out into the waiting arms of many would-be porters, but our own travel company rep was there waiting and steered us over the bridge, through immigration and into another vehicle for the four hour trip back to Kathmandu, reminding us on the way that the time in Nepal was 9am!

By the time we stopped for daal bhaat at a restaurant overlooking the paddy fields and the river, it felt very good to be back on the 'wet side'. The monsoon had made everything fresh and green as the brightest paint in the paintbox; waterfalls were cascading down the gorge, mostly safely channelled under the road;and the colours of the women's clothes as they went about their business in the villages by the side of river were a stark contrast to the more sombre dresses of their Tibetan sisters.

Next year the world will be invited to China for the Olympics. I don't know whether Tibet will remain 'traditional' for the tourists or whether the 21st century will take over completely, but I'm glad I went this year before the secret is out!