The Hindu : Opinion / News Analysis : At journey's end, in Tibet

Online edition of India's National Newspaper
Tuesday, Jul 04, 2006

Opinion

Opinion - News Analysis

At journey's end, in Tibet

Pallavi Aiyar

Lhasa receives the very first passengers to have ever come from Beijing by train.

IT IS 5.30 in the morning when the first Beijing-Lhasa train pulls up at Golmud station in the far west of Qinghai province. The stop comes an hour earlier than expected and the bulk of passengers are still asleep. But as the train halts a ripple of excitement spreads across the carriages and within 15 minutes the platform of the station is crawling with bleary-eyed tourists, shaking off the sleep to photograph the moment.

Only a few years ago, the Lonely Planet guidebook described Golmud as a "forlorn outpost at the oblivion end of China." No more. Golmud today is a city all set for a boom. Construction sites and massive power lines dot the cityscape as the train slowly leaves the station.

The most eagerly awaited part of the journey begins now, as the train snakes its way up the barren, inhospitable Qinghai plateau, through the craggy Kunlun range of mountains, over the 5,072-metre Tanggula pass and then back down towards Lhasa. About 550 km of this part of the rail line runs over frozen earth.

It took over 100,000 workers to lay the rail tracks and other related constructions since work on the project started in 2001. The altitudes at which they had to work were so high that crew members often had to be outfitted with extra oxygen supplies strapped to their backs. On board the train, Zhu Zheng Sheng, Vice-Director of the Ministry of Railways, calls the fact that no one died of altitude sickness during the construction process, "a miracle."

Extra oxygen now begins to be pumped into the train and attendants demonstrate the use of special oxygen sockets situated throughout the carriages. This involves sticking some pretty nasty looking tubes directly into the nostrils and this correspondent is relieved that she feels well enough to do without.

Breath-taking view

Through the window the visceral beauty of the landscape packs an almost physical punch. There is a collective gasp as a 50-strong herd of Tibetan antelope or Chiru run alongside the railway tracks for a few minutes. Wild asses and horses can be spotted in the distance and the hulking shapes of yaks are framed dramatically by snow topped mountains. We are passing through the grasslands of Kekexili, a 45,000 sq km area at the southern foot of the Kunlun range and China's largest area of uninhabited land.

Kekexili is the natural habitat of the Tibetan antelope. To protect these endangered animals from potential railway related accidents, several wildlife "passageways," mostly trestle bridges, have been incorporated into the railway's design at key points along the route where the antelopes are believed to cross during their seasonal migration to grazing grounds. Wildlife spotting is certainly an exciting way to pass the time as we head through the Kunlun mountains but inside the narrow passageways of the carriages it is a bit overcrowded and at crucial moments a lot of jostling for window-space in necessary.

For the well heeled however, such inconveniences will soon no longer be an issue. By early 2008, in addition to the daily ordinary express trains to Lhasa, weekly super-luxury trains will also be up and running. Passengers will enjoy 10-metre-wide suites complete with en suite shower facilities and extra-large windows. Fine food and out-of-train activities will also be part of the $1,000-a-night experience.

This correspondent spends an hour or so discussing the plans for these new trains with the managing director of the U.S. company TZG Partners, that is developing these luxury trains in partnership with the Chinese Government.

He conjures up images of sipping champagne while watching frolicking antelope from soft leather seats in strategically located observation galleries.

Then it is back to the $100 reality of the current trip with its lunch menu of unidentifiable boiled meat and rice.

Our last stop before Lhasa is Nagqu, a forlorn little town high up on the wind-swept eastern plateau of Tibet. A handful of local herdsmen are at the station, smiling toothlessly and gazing at us in wordless wonder. One of them is dressed in an oversized suit and cowboy hat finished off with a heavy string of turquoise and ivory beads. His friends wear chubas — long-sleeved sheepskin coats.

It is only a brief stop and soon we are off to our final destination: the capital of the roof of the world. The minutes before we arrive, bang on time at 9 p.m. at Lhasa train station are frenetic. Chinese tourists seeking souvenirs of the trip make a mad dash through the carriage trying to collect every passenger's autograph.

We alight onto a spanking new white train station: the very first passengers to have ever come to Lhasa from Beijing by train. Official estimates say that by next year as many as 6,000 people will start to arrive by rail to Lhasa every day.

The railway heralds a new phase in the history of Tibet, something both the project's critics and supporters agree on. It is a weighty moment, but for this correspondent, its time to head to a hotel and get a motionless night of sleep.

Printer friendly page
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail

Opinion