Tent life
Trip Start
Apr 04, 2004
1
22
34
Trip End
Jun 07, 2004
Lhasa,
China
Saturday, May 29, 2004
I am taking my turn in the back of the heavily loaded jeep now and it's pretty uncomfortable and gives me a sore arse. The roads are gravel tracks, at best. We stop at a dilapidated monastery and series of huge conical stone chedis. It's a very peaceful spot in a grove of fruit trees. There is virtually bugger all to eat among the peasants in the canteen there. They roll a kind of bread dough between their fingers and wash it down with yak butter tea. I decide not to partake in it and use the hot water supplied to mix up a Tesco's powdered soup. We climb about the structures and I am more absorbed by the glacial shards on the horizon. And so to Nam Tso lake. It can be seen from a long way off and we stop at a vantage point to stretch our weary jeep-legs.
It takes forever to reach the group of tents which lay just behind the lakes edge backing on to a rocky escarpment
1.chortens
. That group of stripy tents is our choice of various guesthouses restaurants and bars. We check in to our shared bedroom of canvas where the beds at least are made from something solid. Helen has settled down a bit and seems to welcome the shared living arrangements tonight. In order to go several tents down for our meal we pile on the layers of clothing. It is after 7pm now and the temperature is starting to bite. We are at 4,718 meters and exposed to a freezing chill, the glassy lake outside black and still in the moonlight. The food and beer is good as we huddle together in a local family's combined residence and business quarters. They have a small baby. All are keen to please and keep us entertained. And then I feel the need to ease the bowels. I must have carried a fair packet with me all the way from Lhasa and its time to make a deposit. The rocky outcrop behind the tent village IS the communal toilet. With my torch I pick a route through boulders and more jagged chunks of stone looking for a patch that is private enough to drop my trousers and squat down to pop a log. But every time I see a possible site, there's a dirty great Richard already sitting there. Semi-frozen with an icy gloss. As I'm at the point where I am 'touching cloth', I decide on a sidecar arrangement alongside an unknown person's previous stool. The footwork must be very precise as I lower my large pink arse into position
2.at the lakeside
. The cold air around my gonads is enough to make them shrivel into walnuts. I am about to open the bomb doors with a great sigh of relief, when I see another torch beam approaching. The outline of a human shape has parked in the next bay along. Its Subhash ! My Israeli comrade. We share our moment of trumpeting bliss together and then have to master the delicate art of juggling toilet paper, with flashlight. While simultaneously gripping underwear and trousers in case they should drop into something steaming and wet below. At this moment I decide that I may have fallen in love with Nayana. Back inside our dormitory tent we hear music outside and go out again to investigate. We should have known. It's the disco tent . We get some beers and find a table. Where did all these people come from ? The style of dancing is interesting. Sort of ballroom dancing on speed. Utilising a country and western wardrobe.
Next ; Black skies
