I woke up during the night for due to some retarded chinese couple crying/howling in turns. In addition my body had apparently gotten used to lower temperatures or something since it took some hour to fall asleep again. Next time I woke up by Yoon-Ki knocking at my door, it was time to grab some dumplings for breakfast.

After breakfast Yang and Yoon-Ki would head off to the train station to get tickets, this would take about an hour so I’d chill at the hostel surfing. After about three hours they show up and explain that if they’d know that it would be half the hassle they gladly payed the service fee (1.5 €) I did. It also proved to be a full train so they will leave one day after myself.

Yang had had a laugh when Yoon-Ki was trying to figure out the cost for the bus. Chinese use one hand to count to ten (e.g. six is the thumb right out and the little finger straight out) but Yoon-Ki wasn’t sure what the driver was gesturing so he asked repeatedly how much the fare was. The driver kept doing the same gesture with growing frustration and finally a girl behind him explained that she was the one to give money to. The driver had simply gestured “backwards” rather than a count.

Yang, like any lady out traveling it seems, wanted to check out the local markets and bring some souvenirs back home. I knew the streets by know so we took a long stroll near the Barkhor area. Resisting any urges I managed to only buy two pieces of bread that would be nice to have on the train. To listen to two chinese haggling long and well is also something that I’ve checked on my list, Yang is an awesome haggler but I don’t comprehend where she gets the energy for it.

Back to the hostel for some slacking and drop of a bunch of knives Yang had bought. The fare of the bus to the train station was a staggering 0.1 € so I figured I would cancel my booked car from the hostel and save 3.4 €. However the travel agent girl was first busy and then nowhere to be found. Well, not much of a loss anyway.

Dinner at Pentoc again, love those fried noodles with yak meat and vegetables, this time with interesting discussions regarding promiscuity, marriage and other cultural differences. When strolling home I stopped at the supermarket to ensure I would go neither hungry nor thirsty on the train. Back at the hostel Jue-a had dropped of my beanie in the reception, sweet! I spotted the travel agent but didn’t have time to ask her to cancel my ride before she apologized herself for not letting me know earlier that she had been unable to set up a car for me. I said I would let it slip for this time and that I probably could make it with the local buses or a taxi.

I was expecting Yang and Yoon-Ki to drop for a last chatting session and was therefore a little surprised when I found two elderly ladies knocking on my door. The wondered with a lovely old british accent if I knew about a chinese girl who supposedly was traveling with a korean and a swedish guy. I explained that I probably was the swedish guy and pointed them to Yang’s room.

Next time it was Yoon-Ki and Yang at the door, they explained that the old ladies had been the ones Yang had helped to the hospital for rather bad food poisoning the day before. They had given Yang a bracelet and sincere thanks and also mentioned that they had been unable to sleep this night due to some cats making sounds. It might be that there were no retarded/drunk chinese couple after all.

After some beer and clementines, music lessons by yours truly and a chinese action show we said our goodbyes for this time. I set my alarm rather early since I wanted to catch the bus at 07 and thought that a little more margin than last time wouldn’t hurt.

After a long and warm sleep we had some instant noodles and boiled eggs for breakfast. Today we had about five-six hours of drive in front of us back to Lhasa. Jue-a explained that there were checkpoints verifying that speed limit is kept along the way.

The system works such as that you get a ticket with a time stamp and a time for the next check point at the first check point. If you reach that point before noted time, you will have to pay a fine. So in effect most drivers speed and then crawl or take a short break just before upcoming check-points. To our drivers demise they had put a regular check only two minutes drive after the first stop as well. A nice picture of our land cruiser for the small price of 20 € was given by the friendly chinese traffic police.

This was quite bad news to Jue-a which makes about 100 € (note to self, ask for drivers salary next time when deciding with a travel agency) per month and would need to take this out of his own pocket. He asked if he could pick up some locals on the way to Lhasa which we didn’t mind. So three locals later he had reduced the fine to 5 € which was painful but not devastating. When the last check point was passed he gladly doubled the speed limit again, I was kind enough to refrain from commenting on this.

Back in Lhasa I took a long hot shower, something much needed as well as much appreciated. After some blogging Yoon-Ki knocked on my door as we would go out for dinner. I then realized that my black beanie was missing, probably still in the car. I called the travel agent who repeatedly asked me if I wanted to go to Nepali border. When explaining for the third time that we just got back he said I should come to Yak hotel next day to meet him, I’m quite sure he didn’t understand me. Yang would have been very useful but she was off helping two travelers who had probably been food-poisoned (she’s a doctor and knows chinese, good combination).

After some delicious fried noodles at Pentoc, Yoon-Ki and I strolled back to the hostel. I remembered my shaving foam accident and decided to replenish my stock. Doing this using sign-language proved to be a challenge but finally I managed to find some for the decent price of 1 €.

Back at the hostel we met Yang who thanked Yoon-Ki for yelling out that she was a doctor causing her to spend close to three hours with two girls who had eaten hamburgers about 8 hours old. I recalled that I’d borrowed my phone to Jue-a in Shiga when he was out of signal and that he’d then called his wife. So with the help of Yang we called his wife and asked for Jue-a’s number in hope of he had spotted my beanie. Better than that, the wife held the lovely hat in her hand and Jue-a would drop it off at our hostel the next day. Yay!

Now it’s time to publish the blog and some photos. It will probably be a calm night, perhaps watch a movie or read some, I haven’t had a fraction of the time reading I thought I would.

After sleeping long and good we all had a breakfast together before leaving Jung-Wook and Sakura to their destinies. They would wait for the bus that would arrive “between 12 and 13” towards the Nepali border. I found that I’d left one of my favorite thirst-quencher, Nutri-Express Apple, in the car and not surprisingly I now had some ice cream / milky thing instead.

The plan was to drive to Shigatse and spend a day there instead of driving all the way back to Lhasa, said and done. Yang deviously made the remaining trio plus the driver to sing songs on the way. After some initial excuses I was the last and gave in by singing the Swedish national anthem in a way that would anger anyone the least nationalistic. Well, it was a nice variation to the tibetan version of euro-disco that our lovely driver played when not suddenly bursting out into tibetan traditional songs without prior warnings.

In Shigatse we visited the Tashilhunpo Monastery which house the Panchen Lamas (although I guess they’ve hidden the 13-year old boy somewhere more secure). The Panchen Lamas are approved by the Chinese government (in contrast to the Dalai Lamas) and is sort of the political centre of western Tibet.

The monastery had a hefty 7.5 € fee for taking pictures inside chapels so I will only with words describe the 26 meter high gilded statue of the future Buddha, Jampa, in one of the chapels. It apparently took 900 artisans some four years to finish in 1914 and each of the fingers are more than a meter long. It saddens me to see such a poor population prefer to pour more than 300 kg of gold and additional precious stones on a religious statue instead of investing in their own future in this world. I get the same feeling when I see young people indoctrinated to a religious belief performing rituals instead of learning about the world we live in.I think I’m getting the hang of monasteries now, although beautiful to look at and often very impressive (specially when taking into account when they were built) I think I’ve had about my fair share for some time.

When back at the hostel going through my packing I found a bag full of foam, I guess that either the low pressure at the Base Camp or that something had pressed against my shaving foam can. The effect was still that I threw everything in the plastic bag (mostly soap and stuff stolen from hostels) except my hair-gooey and the charger for my trimmer. Well well, less stuff to carry I guess. After a not-warm-not-cold shower Yoon-Ki and I decided to stroll down to downtown.

Not being in a particular hurry or really caring where we went, it was dark when we got to downtown after more or less walking around the whole city. Shigatse is Tibet’s second largest city and shared several features with Lhasa such as vendors, occasional beggars and brand stores. Yoon-ki bought a cake consisting of whipped cream and garnished to look like a cute pink pig. Well back at the hotel he convinced Yang and me to share the monstrosity, together we managed to eat about half of it.

Going to bed early with an ample stock of blankets I quickly fell asleep.