Point2Point

A first class train ticket for the overnight trip was my treat for the last overland part of this journey. While being a little bit more spacious than 2nd, and having the staff smile more at you it still came with a free additional snoring Chinese man. Something fairly standard in any overnight train in china. It also seemed to draw a lot of business types into the compartment. Most would just ask if they could sit down and then babble away with the awakened snorer before leaving. Others of the English speaking variety seemed insistent in telling me where to go for great drinks in Shanghai. The average drink only costing upwards of 18USD. Me with a backpack and fairly worn out look did not dissuade these chaps in the least form scribbling down club and bar names. I was apparently an A list guest with a Z list financial statement. Having said all that I did once again arrange for a train station pick up. And a private room at the hostel. Well, it is the end of the trip!

Staring up at the Shanghai metro map I knew then and there if it wasn't possible for me to get out at the right stop and transfer in one go I would forever hate it and curse it. Having read the metro map in the LP. I turned it. Squinted at it. Contemplated throwing it out the door. And finally ripped the thing out so it could fit in my pocket. 'Peoples Square' it was then. I left the train and stared at the big plastic one on the platform. The term, I am not an idiot, it does make sense continuously ran through my head. A train passed with a blue stripe. Then another with a yellow. It clicked. They were colour coded to each station. If the guide book had said that in the first place it would also have help. None the less the Shanghai metro system soon became by best friend in the big city. Even allowing me to buy a discount card from a foul mouthed and corrupt female vendor.

The city was big, but in the commercial sense. Meaning the interesting places are usually located within walking distance of each other. Mainly located along East Nanjing Road on the way to the water front known as the Bund. For me that would have to wait though, as that marked the true finishing line of my trip. Firstly I needed to take part in dealing with the Chinese Mafia in order to buy a laptop.

It did not start out that way. Still carrying around the 12,000 RMB was beginning to get awkward. Not only did it look like I had grown a square left breast from carrying the wad around. But I was also running out of time. Unless I bought a laptop, which the money was after all for, I would lose out. It had already cost me one exchange rate plus 3.2% from China bank just to get the money in the first place. Mega Mall, another 5 floors of laptop paraphernalia. It housed the laptop I was looking for. A nice Sony VAIO, only 1kg. Meaning super light and super easy to carry around. No one was very interested in selling me one though. This was partly because I had with me a piece of paper which a cut down version of the price I was willing to pay. It was in English and thanks to Natashka's parting gift, in Chinese too. However, it amused none of the vendors who all shook their heads in disgust at my opening price.

Liang was the exception though. Spiky haired, tall and with the basics of English he at least tried to help me out. It was after all the third time I approached him in as many hours.

"No no, we no give that price to you."

Faking a painful smile at the young man I tried again. "This is Shanghai. It must be cheaper here than small town Xi'an?!"

"Xi'an big town. Shanghai Expensive town." Liang smiled. I could not tell if it was a fake sales smile, or if he was trying hard not to strangle me. "You buy this. This price."

"It's too much my friend," the price wasn't budging so I changed tactics. "I am going to Hong Kong next week. The land of cheap electronics. " I paused to give him a pat on the shoulder, "When I come back here to my job, I will have a new laptop and won't be able to buy from you. Is cheaper there. You know that."

He had heard that line before I was sure. So I added the do or die line in all of bargaining, "I have the cash right now..."

Liang's eyes widened as I reached into my breast pocket and removed the hefty wad of Cash. He said nothing. Instead he headed over to a bored looking lady moving a laptop a millimetre to the left on one of the many displays. She looked over at me briefly before scowling at Liang and then shrugging. Liang was persistent and tried again. This time she threw her hands in the air which brought a big smile to Liang's face.

He came back over to me and wrote down on my piece of paper a new figure. 120.200.000RMB.

I jerked back in reaction, then taking away his pen scratched out the badly translated four zero's. 12,200RMB.

Liang smiled. It might have taken 3 hours but I was about to buy a Chinese laptop that would have cost twice that in Europe. Explaining that I wanted to see it working first before buying took another 1 hour. The phrase Warranty did not translate well. So I just stuck with the whole "I want to see it working first routine."

While I sat there counting out the money Liang got on the phone to get the laptop brought down from storage upstairs. It was all good until 'that' lady answered a phone call.

"No model in stock any more."

I threw my head back in frustration. Another hour passed before Liang came back with the news that they could get it but it would take 4 hours as it was in another warehouse. It was already 4pm. With a dejected look I took Liang's business card and left.

That was my mistake. I should have waited there. Instead I went outside and headed to the take out window of a fast food outlet selling chicken burgers.

"Why you no ask? I have friend you sells laptops."

Turning around I stared at the two guys smiling widely at me through their designer sunglasses. They both wore jackets, one black leather the other denim, and they both were wearing too much aftershave. My first reaction was to ignore them, but then I was waiting for a Chicken Deluxe.

"And who are you?"

The one in the leather jacket looked back at the mega mall, "We see you looking for laptop. Is very expensive place this. My brother, he have shop. Good place. Locals buy there. Much cheaper. Very Cheap."

If he hadn't said 'Locals buy there' I would have brushed them off as two scam artists. But as tourists of the backpacking variety we have this whole sense that eating, buying and living around 'local' places is a good thing. Often times much cheaper, better and more culturally rewarding. scam artists or not, I was intrigued.

There was no way I was following these guys to a part of the city I did not know. Nor down any side streets into someone's house. In actual fact we didn't drift too far from the Mega Mall complex, yet at the same time we seemed to have entered a not so commercial district. Just off East Nanjing road was a side street with a host insurance company outlets, a couple misplaced travel stores and one small vacant shop front. The place looked like it was either in the throws of renovation or in the middle of demolition. Along one side there were old shelves stacked high along the grey walls with big cardboard boxes resting on them. Along the other side was a counter stacked with computer monitors, dismantled PC's and a row of brand new looking boxed printers.

The guy in denim called out to someone shuffling around in the back. A reply came and we headed to the back of the store. A guy in his mid thirties was standing behind a large white desk lifting boxes of paperwork from one side of the room to another. After a brief introduction I was seated down and asked to wait while the man continued to move boxes and the denim clad guy headed off. While quite sparsely decorated office did at least look like it had something to do with laptops. The boxes contained computer emblazoned brochures, and from the looks of it filled out receipts. Sitting down next to me the leather clad man smiled and removed his glasses. His eyes moved around the room as if picturing how he would have decorated it.

The denim man came back and placed a boxed heavy laptop in front of me. I looked at the box and shook my head, "Guys I am looking for a laptop under 1kg, preferable a Sony Vaio."

The man behind the desk pulled out a Sony brochure and I nodded, pointing to a light Vaio model in a photograph. There was a rush of chat between them and the guy in denim disappeared again. It took him 20 minutes to come back and although I had time, was loosing patience. Maybe I should have stayed with Liang at Mega Mall, time was moving on.

Surprisingly the denim clad man put a boxed Vaio down in front of me. The leather clad man smiled enthusiastically. I asked if I could open it and they paused for another chat. The answer was yes. But knowing how some of these people operate I asked them to unpack it. If I had opened the box they might have claimed I had to buy it now as it was opened.

My suspicions and hopes were confirmed as the top jacketed guys gently pulled a small jet black machine out of the box. It had the Vaio logo on it, and the words SONY were neatly embedded into screens frame. But from what I had seen over in Mega Mall the keyboard was surrounded in shiny black plastic. here it was the same as the rest of the case, matte black. The model number was also strange. But then this was a Chinese issued laptop so that was not a surprise. I lifted it up, and indeed it was as light as the one in mega mall.

"Can we turn it on?" I asked.

The two guys looked over at the man behind the desk. He nodded. The machine started up and a SONY logo appeared followed by a Chinese VISTA. The guy in leather clicked around the screen and nodded at me. It was in Chinese, so I stood little hope of understanding it. My plan was to buy a new English operating system later. Peering into the box I pulled out the power cord and wanting to see everything work asked them to plug it in.

"How much?" I asked as the denim clad man took the plug to a wall socket.

Another brief exchange of words occurred between all three men as the leather clad guy translated. "11,000."

I restrained a smile and frowned cautiously. The denim man plugged the charger into the laptop and the screen went blank. The two men looked around the machine as if expecting to see another plug hole or something. The laptop was dead. I knew it. I could smell burn. An series of escalating exchanges began between the men. Most of the blame fell on the denim clad man who had plugged it in. That is until he pointed at me.

Sensing events were about to turn bad I shrugged, "Well, that's not going to be the machine for me!"

The men made some grunting noises as the one behind the desk walked around. Then the leather clad one started things off. "Is yours. You buy."

In a situation like this one would like to think you can think fast. I didn't. What was there to say? I hadn't bought a thing. Yet these three guys were having different ideas. My fight or flight instinct told me to walk out the door and tell them where to shove the laptop. But as I looked over the denim clad man had walked away from the desk and now stood between me and door. I didn't feel trapped, but I did feel the pressure build.

"Look guys," I said raising my hands slightly to show innocence. "I came here to buy a laptop. This one not working so good eh?"

It didn't work. The paper shuffling guy pointed to leather glad guy then to the denim clad guy and shouted aggressively. My heart rate doubled, the situation was going south fast. I shook my head and put my hands down.

"Is yours!" said the leather clad guy with a loud gruff tone. "You buy now!"

That was statement that told me the last of reasonable conversation was over. Whether they were bluffing or not, I didn't know. The Chinese are fairly gruff in business anyway, let alone when something goes wrong. The way I saw it I could either wave them off and then circumnavigate the denim guy and walk swiftly out. If it was all just gruff Chinese attitude then it should be OK. On the other hand if they were serious about me paying up, then they could easily get to the door first and close or block it off. A gently discussion was not on the cards. It had taken me 3 hours just to explain to Liang at the mall what I wanted, it would take a lifetime to explain to these guys. If things did break down into a fight to get out it would favour against me. If two of them grabbed hold of me the third could easily lock the door. The whole situation began to build up inside me. It was getting dark outside. The three men's eyes all turned to me waiting to see what my reaction would be. The leather clad guys eyes flickered onto the bulge in my jackets breast pocket. My mind flashed onto the scene in the mega mall when I had taken out the money to count it. They said they'd seen me their shopping. If they had, then they must have seen the money. Instinct flared in me and I felt both fight and flight surge through my blood.

Inhaling deeply through clenched teeth I then let out a torrent of abuse, "Don't you fucking tell me what to do you idiot!"

The denim and leather clad guys widen as I reached into my pocket. "See this," I roared as my other hand searched for something. "It's the time on my phone, and it's time you wasted bringing me here." I flicked up the phones cover and pulled out Liang's business card with the other. "I could have bought here!"

Confusion streaked across the denim clad guys face as I pointed back at him. "And you!!" I said walking towards him and pointing at the table, "What the fuck is this, A fucking broken laptop! Get out of the way. I have a good mind to call the tourist police and tell them what you are trying to sell."

The paper shuffling man was about to say something as I passed the denim guy and was with in a step or two of the door. "And you! Call this a business? Your two idiot friends here just lost you a sale!"

By cutting him off and diverting their attention back to the boss of the outfit I had given myself enough time to storm out the office door. Whether that was enough or not, I was on a verbal tirade that was working. The men were taken off guard by my sudden accusations towards them, the telephone coming out, and then the business card. I was trying everything to keep them off guard and putting as much into their brains as possible so they wouldn't have time to think ahead about what I was up to. It was something I had learned in Nigeria when dealing with the corrupt police. Keep firing things at them and buy yourself time. In this case it was enough to get me out of the office door.

Out of my line of sight now, I heard a shuffle and the start of a sentence from inside the office. I cut it off again by boldly stopping to turn around and fling another insult at them. Telling them their store looked like a piece of dog excrement and then something about a better business beuro I quickened my pace towards the stores main exit.

Never looking back I let instinct guide me back to the main road. I never looked back. Doing so seemed like I would be showing fear and let them know it was all a bluff. My hands were trembling with either rage and fright as stared at the business card of Liang. Even if it took the night, the guy had just earned himself a sale.

Nerdish qualities aside I did of course spend my last night in the hotel glued to my new laptop. My flight was not until late the next night, so I had another full day and night to enjoy Shanghai. In truth I slept in, put my bags into storage and headed off to complete my overland journey.

I had held a mental image of this day for years. How many times have we thought of how something will be? Pictured it vividly in our minds eye. Feeling the pulse of life course through us as we accomplish that something you know will live with us forever. It doesn't all have to end with fireworks or, a party. People think about a vision of going home, opening the door and saying 'hello! I'm back!' Surprising people by turning up a day early. Or maybe even just envisioning that scene coming through the airport terminal and seeing their family waiting there on the other side. It's something people think about before falling asleep while travelling, its something to smile to ourselves about. For me I had no home to smile about returning to. The vision I had was one of accomplishment, standing at the waters edge in Shanghai.

It was a walk that took me down East Nanjing Road towards the Bund, Shanghai's famous embanked quay along the Haungpu River. Past mega malls, tiny parks, corporate skyscrapers and tourists. Not exactly most people's inspiring vision of a journey's end. Although for me in could have been the destitute waste lands of far east Russia if I had gone with the original plan. Either way it was a goal, and a vision that I was about to accomplish. I was living the moment. My mind flashed back to Portugal and my trip to the beach there, the start. Through the venture of surviving 2 years living in Nigeria to crossing Europe meeting friends. Lonely yet wondrous days of discovery on the road through Iran, Pakistan and India. To finding the ancient wonders of friendly Nepal and the start of real adventure through Tibet. It was all culminating across a road in down town Shanghai, China.

The busy road I was looking across looked as if it had no pedestrian crossing. Cars zipped up and down. No one was crossing on foot. On the other side I could just make out the tips of high towers, and the odd mast of a slow moving boat moving along. It was as if I was looking at an unachievable dream waiting across an uncrossable path. I snapped out of this mild frustration and found a pedestrian tunnel leading under the road to the other side. Again as I emerged was the feeling of each step bringing me closer to the end of it all. I was savoring it. Each step I climbed up went through my mind in slow motion. The crowds didn't bother me any more. I heard only the voices of the people I had met along my journey. Their laughter, fears, and their smiles fading away as my eyes fell on the water before me.

The Journey was over. I would continue to search for a home. But for now the unbroken overland journey from Sintra, Portugal to Shanghai, China was complete. It must have taken me 10 minutes to realize that there wasn't much to do now. After a mandatory self portrait. I thought about what it would have been like if the Tibet group was here with me now. Or even the KTM GH Group. It would have been a party. Now I looked down at my mobile phones screen. Error sending message . It was like life, you come into it alone, and you leave it alone. A sadness came over me. Not for the journeys end, but for not being able to celebrate it with anyone. Not wanting to to leave yet I moved over to a free space in a quayside bench to sit down. Leaving straight away would have been like disrespecting my own memories, or the journey itself. My vision of this end was years in the making. Surely it deserved more than a few minutes and quick photograph.

The embanked quayside was crowded. Families were eating from street vendors. Children were pointing out to the slow ferry boats as they brought people up and down the river. Evening was closing in and offices were closing. Lovers were coming out to meet each other for a riverside stroll. A watch vendor sat down beside me. An old lady with a display box of fake designer names that she held out in front of me. I shook my head with a smile and rolled up my sleeve to display mine. She nodded back, and then pointed to my other wrist. Life goes on.

Night fell and with it I got a reward for staying on. The river became a bright multicoloured light show. The high rises across the river lit up in bright purples, reds, whites and every other neon colour imaginable. Ferry's moved up with giant flat screen displays showing off the latest advertisements in silence. I walked down the Bunds quay and found myself coming face to face with a huge golden dragon bobbing up and down beside the embankment. Behind it a cone shaped office lit up floor by floor in red, then blue and then began rippling through all its colours.

It felt good. A modern fireworks display. My celebration of memories. Of conquest and accomplishment. Its fair to say no one can really appreciate a travel venture as much as the person who did it. No matter the journey. All those feelings thoughts and experiences are uniquely yours. Now it was time for the next journey. I would be taking the worlds fastest train to the airport. I would get on a plane for the first time since Portugal. Then, after landing, I would walk into the biggest disaster of my life...

"She has great boobs!"

That was Stefan's comment as he recalled an early goodbye encounter with Mara before departing with Quinnell. Surprising her with an early morning knock on the door, Mara had leapt out of her bed in distinctly non travel friendly, yet most assuredly male friendly, undies for a goodbye hug. Chris had departed the day before for Beijing with an obsession for getting on a plane to Thailand to surf. It just left me and the Slovenians for a final day of Xi'an life.

There would be no laptop for me, yet I now carried a bundle of 120,000RMB thanks to a in Bank credit card transfer with the aid of Natashka's interpreting skills. The machine in the mega mall complex was the wrong spec and time had it carried no warranty outside china.

Natashka was coming down with a cold and during a trip to a local pharmacy began to sing a made up song about Mara's boobs. It was the first time she ever broke out of her 'more serious' than Mara personality and had permanently embedded some fairly graphic images in my mind, not to mention a catchy tune. It was obviously a day when everyone was fixated on Mara's boobs. And since I was sharing a room with the Slovenians and got a full front row view of Stefan's goodbye hug, it wasn't hard to be fixated myself.

Like the Slovenians you meet so many people on the road that you either like, or you don't. Even then with the one's you like it's not going to be friendship forever. Changing emails or addresses with some people is as good as collecting business cards at a paper weight convention. There are a few people though that you know you will stay in touch with. On this trip I had collected many many paper weight business cards. But only a few keepers. Stephi, Mara and Natashka. That was it. No more. With Stephan and Quinnell we didn't even bring the subject up. We were all very different, and only shared the Riots as a common bond. We had had a good time together, but there was no need for false exchanges. We might never have even sent one mail to each other. With the Slovenians we spent the morning of my departure for Beijing already emailing our own future plans to each other.

My train ride to Beijing was an overnight one. As it was nearing the end of my journey it was time to relax a little so there was a prearrange hostel pick up waiting for me at the station. Although the train was comfortable the stations are often over crowded and aside from party hostels it was good to arrange a pick up. Why bother fighting with taxi's or touts when a nice man in a suit and a sign with your name will meet you at the platform? Indeed later on at the seriously plush Jade hostel I encountered a group of four travellers who over hearing my conversation at reception said they had seen me at the station.

"You are the guy with the name board!"

I looked at he long dark haired American girl with bedazzled look, "Yea, I guess."

Her blond friend gave me a thumbs up, "Nice move, we got stuck with a 15 Dollar taxi just to get here."

My hopes of meeting another twosome of girl company were dashed as they turned to their two respective male partners at the check in counter. "Look honey," said the dark haired girl, "Its the guy from the railway station."

What the hell? I was a celebrity hostel booker?

The two guys turned and gave me a fake smile and nod. The girls went on about the cost of the taxi a little bit longer as their counterparts tried in vain to change the subject. Not withstanding the male ego bashing of their counterparts I headed to my dorm room.

Chris should have been at the same hostel, I'd given him the directions, and we'd agreed. But an email I got from him continued to make me think why I had bothered

'Dude, I so left that place man. Found a cheaper place down the road. Mail me back so we can meet up for some beers. Off to the Wall today.'

The dorm room held 8 in pine bunk beds. After ten minutes of swapping beds with a confused Korean girl who didn't like her bed the night before she offered to take me to down town Beijing en route to her second day of city discovery.

Jin-ho was a nice enough girl in her mid twenties. She was waiting for some friends to come back from a tour and in rather a blunt manner explained that's why she had nothing to do so could show me around. We were close to Tienanmen Square so it was our first stop, and the first place I realised how very different Beijing was to the rest of China. Tourists flooded the Square outside Chairman Mao's resting place. Police ignored the camera's pointing at them here too. And in a slight act of private rebellion of no consequence I asked a cute Chinese policewoman to pose for a photo. It was hard to picuture the scene from the student uprising that infamously covered all TV and newspapers back in the early nineties. The throng of crowds made it hard to picture where 'that' tank had shuffled to avoid the student.

The back streets of Beijing are perhaps more like the China we think of. Lot's of open food stalls, vendors selling anything to anything and crowds. Also present was so much scaffolding it was hard to pass a street that wasn't under construction. People were friendly though, happy to pose for photographs. National pride was higher than ever thanks to the Olympic Games. Modern Curio shops were a joy to wander into. Everything from ancient looking wooden boxes, the smell of shoe polish still fresh on their 'ageing' wooden frames to the latest counterfeit plastic toy was on sale. Boxes of rip of confectionery stacked shelves complete with unknown triple digit additive numbers typed over very familiar design patterns. This was the market place that embodied both old and new.

We stopped for lunch at a traditional street steaming restaurant. Peking Duck, or as it know now Beijing, Duck was too good an opportunity to pass up. Beijing was trying hard to accommodate all. It was so obvious it was in your face. The new subway rode without a glitch, the signs were all new, and English was everywhere. As were the tour groups. Little ladies held brightly colored flags and led people of all ages and nationalities with matching name tags around the city. The shopping centres along Dongcheng road all bustled with the latest in consumer items as the fashion concious walked arm in arm along the well paved roadside. While consumable items were cheap, large electronics or brand name clothes matches of even surpassed European high street prices. It was a city you could easily live in. There was plenty on offer, and the after that plenty more to do.

For me I was limited by time again. It was the price one pays when you book a flight ticket, not something I was used to.

"Dude, I so gotta surf!"

Chris looked at me with a big goofy smile. Not knowing quite how to explain to him the obvious, I stated it plainly. "Chris, you are in Beijing. No surf! In two days you will be on a plane. And I happy man in Thailand with the waves."

"Yo, that's what I am talking about."

He was actually a nice guy, just in the wrong country. The Great Wall was never my thing so to speak, but as Chris wanted to see it as well on his last day we teamed up and invited the Korean Jo-him to join us. It was a hostel arranged bus that took us out to the site. We had argued briefly about the various sections that were on offer, and listening to an email I read out agreed we should see a little visited section of the Great Wall.

Naturally enough the little visited section was full of tourists. Though is this was the little visited section I was glad we did not go to the popular section. There were two ways up to the top of the wall that rested on the top of a ridge on a steep looking hill. A cable car, or walk. Chris was gone like a shot in the cable car, though tempted Jo-hin joined me on the 30 minute walk to the top. From a distance the Great Wall looked as it should; a fortified ancient wall that winded itself along a mountain ridge that went on into the distance. There were no claims on display citing it as a world heritage site, no real numbers and no one shoving propaganda down your throat. Thus, it was an enjoyable place. The walkway up to the top was surrounded by hillside forest, the odd vendor selling two Euro small bottles of water and a plaque dedicated to President Bill Clinton's visit. The wall itself was obviously reconstructed in this tourist zone. Fresh looking light brown concrete filled in around large stone building blocks. The ramparts were in excellent condition and to our right there was the hideous sight of a giant slide that offered people an alternative on the way down. The wall was far from unimpressive though. For as far as the eye could see this long chain of ramparts and towers snaked over the undulating mountains and hills of China's landscape. Where ever direction the mountain ridge would take the wall would be riding on top. Through grass lands and icy barren looking mountain ridges the wall winded its way in impressive military style.

There were two options. Left or right. Jo-hin wanted to follow a group of Asian tourists that headed off on the steep incline to the left, while I took the right and headed down a while. The stone had a slightly slippery feel to it as I descended small steps down to a tower. There were people around, but not so many as to prevent some lone photographs of the wall. The sky was blue but a little hazy. I continued on up a steep section, passing by some elderly foreigners as they struggled in the rising heat from the sun. The top tower gave an impressive few. Photographed many times over by tourists it was hard not to see why. From standing on top of the tower you were first confronted with the wide 16ft wall in front of you as it narrowed into the distance before following natures mountain ridge off to the west and into obscurity. On the other side the wall passed over seemingly impassable high mountain cliffs and rocky outcrops that jutted several thousand feet into the passes. Walking further along the wall it soon came to an end. The Wall seemed to crumble away into a nothing ahead. Only a few trees that had taken root along its path blocked the view ahead, that along with a sign in big lettering warning people not to go further.

'Stop. Danger Ahead. Go No Further.'

It was like a red flag to a bull. Within minutes I was passing by an obedient German tourist heading back and pushing my way past some tree branches. Up head there were a group of multinational looking tourists standing on a decrepit stone platform. Making my way up a make shift brick and stone walkway up to the platform I could see the appeal of it. From this old long since demolished watchtower platform was a 360 degree panorama of the the whole area. While not offering anything new as far as the wall was concerned it was an area where people smiled at each other a little. An area where you shouldn't be in obedient China. It's crumbling stone base offered a passing danger that at any moment you might step in the wrong place and fall away with the decreped structure. More importantly than all that was the fact that there were no massive throngs of tourists insight. No cable cars, no giant slides and no touts. To stand there and turn with the view of all china before you was impressive. A moment alone with history, both ancient and modern.

We waited at the bottom of the wall, surrounded by touts and expensive non impressive food stalls. The bus should have left thirty minutes ago, but we were all waiting for one remaining passenger. Chris. There was no doubt in my mind where he was. The giant chrome slide snaked its way down the hill in full glory of the tens of children screaming as they sat on cushions slid all the way to the bottom.

Re-enacting his giant slide we visited Beijing's food market that night with Chris that night. Rows upon rows of all manner of insects were on display for consumption. Scorpions, black beetles,grasshoppers, Ants, snakes, and crustations lay motionless on toothpicks waiting for you to choose your type before being cooked up before you.

"Well we better try eh?" I said looking at Chris and then pointing at a beetle the size of a cigarette lighter.

"That is so gross," he beamed. "We gotta try it."

Jo-hin squished up her face. "You guys sick. It very bad here."

"What you feel like Chris? Red Cockroach or Black Scorpion?"

"How about caterpillar?" replied Chris as he looked for the least offensive beasty.

I paused as if in thought, "I head those things can be poisonous..."

Chris' eyes widened.

"You come try here!" Said a voice behind one of the stalls

The man was dressed in a clean white jacket and his display of insects and seafood was quite impressive.

Not wanting to overstretch my own limitations I was somewhat glad when Chris opted for a small brown grasshopper on a stick. He played with it for a while, as if in the back of his mind he hoped we would forgive him for not eating it. Then with a hesitated grimace he bit into the hind quarters.

"Ewww, that so gross!" Squealed Jo-hin.

Chris stood there with one leg of the bit sized insect hanging on his lower lip. "It's really not so good actually man. And, there's something sticky coming out its ass."

"Doesn't look good from here either," I replied with a laugh. "Who knows how long they've had these things sitting around. You better get a seat next to the toilet on your plane tomorrow."

Spitting out the rest of the insects hindquarters Chris went silent for the first time since I have known him. I figured the prospect of not being able to surf the instant he hit Thailand was a contributing factor. Avoiding any repercussions I opted for a fully cooked squid. Seafood was never a safe option we are told when travelling, but compared to gooey grasshoppers, it was a safer option without backing out all together.

As a final act together before he flew out we took in a performance by the The Beijing Dance Academy. A spectacular almost circus display of acrobatics, pageantry and human contortion. Children from the age of five upwards somersaulted around the stage with all manner of rings and flaming ropes to fly through in a tale about an angry dragon. Girls balanced countless tiny glasses of water on a multitude of serving trays as they bent and twist their bodies into the most spine breaking positions you could imagine. It was a richly cultural side side of Beijing that made one think of its incredibly diverse and stoic history.

It was that history I thought about at the in entrance into the fabled Forbidden City. At first I found the place as expected, a typical government run standing museum to the past. The main outer courtyard or Imperial City was large, spread out into empty spaces and quite bland. Consisting of 980 surviving buildings, none had a serious pull you in factor. It was walking through one on the very many streets within this city within a city that I began to appreciated it more. I was in the inner city where Puyi, the last Emperor of China lived during the new days of the Chinese Republic in the early 20th century. Here the city became more closed in. The area had an almost lived in look. Large Murals like the Nine Dragons Screen in front of the Palace of Tranquil Longevity gave the impression that small children might once had delighted in playing in the small courtyard there. Indeed the whole area was full of little ally ways, small buildings, decorative murals and lavishly adorned buildings with enchanting names. The Palace of Heavenly Purity, the Palace of Earthly Tranquillity, the Hall of Mental Cultivation and the Gate of Divine Might all brought a unique serenity to the city. Inner Gardens where slow waters ran into landscaped ponds filled with large colourful goldfish were mesmerizing. To think that people actually lived in such a magical looking place. It made other palaces around the world look normal, and to and extent dull. Here there was the essence of another world, one that was being walled in as an inner city within an imperial city within a modern city.

Leaving the area I truly felt like it was a place not to be missed no matter how hurried you are. I had spent a full day there and had sacrificed a brief attempt at trying to find another laptop store. With 120,000RMB bulging out of my pocket I was fast imagining myself losing out and having to convert it into dollars or Euro. Shanghai would be my next and final stop. A place to try buying a laptop, come to terms with the end, and to catch a plane.

Unlike Tibet, Xi'an was like being back in the western world. Albeit in Asia. While Lhasa was fast becoming a modern and built up city , it still had a magnificent mountain backdrop. Xi'an's claim to city fame was an old red bricked wall standing over 30ft that surrounded its former city boundaries. It wasn't that it was all that impressive architecturally, plain and rounded. But it did give the city a distinctly ancient feel. That coupled with the fact Xi'an was one of the four ancient cities in china's past.

If you wanted to listen, it was a place that spoke in whispers to you of past civilisations. The five hundred thousand to one million year old Lantian Man was discovered here. The silk road originated here during the Han Dynasty that first linked the Roman empire to Asia. It is where the famous terracotta warriors were discovered and still stand. It is also a place where some say there is evidence of a past linked to Egypt.

Our first day was spent familiarizing ourselves with Xi'an city, China and Chinese people. Chris, Stefan and Quinnell were under pressure for time. They wanted to move soon, and it soon became apparent that I wouldn't be heading to Beijing with Chris. China and an ancient history did not mean as much to him as catching a flight to a dive site in Thailand. Mara and Natashka on the other hand were up for a longer time in Xi'an to explore the sites.

Number one on list, thanks to Chris, was McDonald's. Anyone that knows me will tell you I have aversion to McDonald's due to a 'Green' report I had read over ten years ago. But Xi'an was limited when it came to eat in the morning. While the others dined on Mc'something's I chewed heavily on a steamed pastry of containing the unrecognisable meant of some long dead animal. It gave me a chance to read over one of our hostel owners print outs on laptops.

It was something I had decided I needed for quite some time. Since selling my old one in Turkey due to the weight problem and lack of use I was suffering. Not due to any writing or photographic needs as was the original purpose of bringing it. But more to do with financial security, and life in general for a man on the road like me. There wasn't a time when I sat at public internet café and dreaded logging into my bank account. Key loggers, spy ware and all manner of security issues had me driven crazy with paranoia. Then there was Kathmandu and Lhasa. I had fought for a day with the guest house's pc to upload the first riot photograph's, and then in Lhasa I had nothing. Even uploading was not enough, in Lhasa I would have needed software to blur out the Tibetans faces before uploading. Even uploading itself was impossible without a laptop, my photographs are over 5 megabytes and I have two memory cards infected due to having no anti virus. It was worth the risk any more. I was in the land that seemed to produce ninety percent of the worlds cheap electronics, so where better to buy.

While I enjoyed their company the most, I was also aware that Natashka spoke Chinese quite well. Having her come along on a shopping spree would be a huge asset once it came to bartering. Bill had given us a list of places to visit that were thankfully all located together. Both a new and old computer market.

"It's like Wal-mart on steroids."

That was the last we saw of Chris as he disappeared off into the I-pod section of X-division mega PC mall. It was 9 floors of wall to wall computers. Three of which were dedicated to laptops. The air hummed with electronic gadgetry, a computer nerds wet dream. By contrast the old computer market across the road was as close as a nerd could get to being involved in shady Mafia style computer dealings. The old market had only two floors, but in comparisons anything electronic, working or not, was put on display for sale.

There were no neon signs here. No centralised air conditioning. Instead lone air conditioning units stood beside a few vendors stalls. Blowing cool air onto the owner while on the other side of the unit hot air billowed out onto his neighbour. No one grabbed at us. Perhaps because few spoke no more than a few words of English.

For some reason everyone had wanted to come along. The lure of Xi'an or perhaps just because we now shared some kind of bond. At night we spoke of how Lhasa would live with us forever, it didn't mean we would stay together forever. But the feelings and memories of those few days were a part of us now. In a way I think we were trying to make it last out a bit longer; the feeling of that unique once in a life time experience.

My bank account was not happy to hear laptop prices were not so cheap. Worse still was the fact that it was not possible to pay by credit card. Harder again was the fact I had spotted the ideal machine, it weighed in at under 1kg. A travellers delight.

After spending the rest of the day catching up on international news on China and the growing Tibet situation we located the bus that would take us to the Terracotta Army the next day.

"Whoa, their like real dude!"

And that was the last we saw of Chris as he tore off from our mandatory guide at the armies site. '8,000 soldiers, 130 chariots with 520 horses and 150 cavalry horses'. Well that's what the brochure said. We followed LP's instructions and started at the smallest pit where the warriors stood. Unlike the Taj or Everest I had once experienced a 3D movie about the army. It was better.

8,000 soldiers in my mind is quite a number. What was laid out in the largest of the pits, number 1, was not so impressive. If no one had mentioned 8,000 soldiers or world heritage site then it would have been impressive. Like a maze of drainage ditches the soldiers were lined up in formation or various lengths below us. We stood on the viewing platform and attempted some shaky dark photographs. The lighting was poor. Yet somehow the nearby shop selling photographs was lit up like it was New Years eve. A little know fact about the soldiers is that they are actually all reconstructed. A large portion of the pits were filled with broken and smashed up parts of terracotta soldiers. One got the feeling you did as a child when you broke a vase or a pot. The temptation for super glue and a super sized jigsaw puzzle was quite strange.

Chris wanted out after and hour. The rest of us continued to try in vain and find something impressive. It came as we were leaving pit number one. The site people were moving some soldiers for some reason. It allowed us a close up look at about six of them. The original paint work was still quite visible and to see it so close made the trip worth while.

Stefan was next to lose interest, and although the rest of us were hanging on to every shred of hope. We too soon departed. Not after our, up until then nice, guide decided to take us on a huge detour into the market shops for all things terracotta. If only she had just taken us to our bus stop. She could have gained more on a tip that way then being told to 'Get lost' by the Slovenians.

It was on the way back on the local bus that I saw a pyramid. Not a giant Giza, or mysterious Mayan temple. But a brand new looking perfect four sided pyramid that stood about 30 feet into the air. 'Museum of Art' was the sign outside. My heart rate rose a little. Such temptation for my real reason in coming all the way to Xi'an. The Slovenians saw my excitement and had to admit it looked interesting. Why was there a newly built Egyptian style Pyramid in Xi'an? The answer to me was that it was some clever business man that new what I did, something was about to happen to Xi'an that would do more to boost it's reputation as a tourist destination than the terracotta warriors could ever hope too.

It had taken a long sit down with Bill at the hostel to finally explain where and what I wanted to see when I said 'Pyramids'. It took me several months in Asia to figure out that unlike in Africa or Europe it's not just the pronunciation of a world that can send confusion into the eyes of your conversation counterpart. One had to guess the right word as well. Pyramid meant nothing to Bill. Nothing at all, yet educated pride meant that he had to agree to know what a Pyramid was. Yet in reality we just knew what one looked like. So it made little sense to him about what I was going on about. It was only when I asked him to print out a leaflet of information I had stored on my email 5 years previously did he click. Tombs. That was the magic word made us both smiles as he pointed out the location of these mysterious burial sites dotted around Xi'an. What's more, there was bus he knew that could take me there.

Mara and Natashka were the only ones that wanted to some with me. I don't know why. Maybe my train side stories with Mara about searching for the Knights Templar Well in Portugal and Morocco had her inspired. Either way the dark clouds that morning did little to inspire her thereafter. A little Chinese taxi man Bill had called showed up to take us to the bus. He came in,looked at us, spoke to the receptionist, and then left. I asked the girl what was wrong and she shrugged. I called bob on his mobile and chased after the taxi man as he got into the car. Handing the my phone to the man I waited for the conversation to finish before Bob explained to me the problem.

"He no speak English"

"Well that's fine Bill," I said trying to make sense of the logic. "He's just taking us to the bus, not explaining anything to us."

"Yes he do this now." Replied Bill, "I explain. You go with him now. HE just worry about the bus. But I say you be fine. You go now. He hurry for bus."

I called the girls and we all climbed into the cab just as it started to rain, and once it was too late to realize that in the rush we had left our rain coats behind. The journey was only about 30 minutes, just enough to take us to the outskirts of the city. We left the taxi and were bundled into a mini bus full of Chinese. It gave me the distinct feeling we were joining a tour of some kind, and not a regular bus.

"Well this should be interesting..." Chirped Mara as she settled into the small cramped seats. She nodded at the driver and a lady with a microphone. "We're on a Chinese tour! Weee."

Grimacing I watched the suited lady on the front seat as she made the microphone squeal in an obligatory high pitched tone. Everything she said was in Chinese and we had no idea where the hell we were headed off to.

"Well at least the bus doesn't leak!" Having the Slovenians come along was nice, but even after a lengthy discussion about how the day could really bore them, I still felt a little guilty having dragged them out like this. They were both laughing about it and said they had nothing else to do, but I think they were expecting something very different to what I wanted to see.

The Lost Chinese Pyramids were indeed Pyramids. First spotted my a USA military reconnaissance plane after WWII, they were denied by the Chinese government. Local archaeological reports leaked onto the internet stated that the ancient Tombs were being systematically destroyed by grant aided farmers who were sought after to build crops over them. Keeping in mind that they were in the moist and crop laden Shaanxi province, it was easy for the buildings to be destroyed in this manner. There were only a few sources on the internet that gave any concrete evidence of this as the area had been in a forbidden zone for many years. What I did understand from both a little documentation and my own intuition of the Chinese economic boost was that all that could be about to change. What bigger draw could there be to a province than a tourist proclamation of world wonder like Pyramids being discovered in China? With the 2008 Olympic Games China was in full on PR and attract tourists mind set. Walk into any Chinese book store these days and you will discover where all the self taught books on 'how to be a tour guide' have ended up. The Pyramids were a gold mine waiting to happen. The problem I imagine was how to do it after all these years of denial. The Pyramids were official Tombs of ancient leaders, and referred to as that. Though both architecturally and physically they resembled the Egyptian equivalents. Throw in internal bureaucracy such as the department for Archaeology, department for tourism, rural development not to mention all the local government scenarios and you could see why all this was stuck in a state of limbo.

Then there was the conspiracy theorists. Or rather the alternative version of what he pyramids were. If you dig deep enough into Tibetan and Western Chinese history you will come up a light splattering of an alternative purpose to the pyramids. From Alien landing zones to complex astronomical star alignments with the Egyptian pyramids. The underground theories even emerge into the fact that in a remote western part of Tibet there was a documented tribe of people that did not grow above 4ft and had elongated heads linking them to being possible Alien Hybrids. All this had, what is commonly referred to as a hook for me. An adventure in a strange land to photograph what only an handful of people have head about.

The reality was that we were stuck out in the rain on a bus with a screeching speaker system. The Slovenians kept smiling but as we visited the temple of some past emperor and and another of some king the smiles turned to upturned pleasantries. Each temple we entered meant we soaked from the torrential downpour that seemed to be lasting for the day. The flimsy neon colored poncho's we had bought from a street vendor were worse than bin liners. Ill fitting and very easy to rip.

Our stop at the massive Qianling Tomb at least brought our spirits up a notch. The place was huge, with a massive thirty foot smooth stone road that linked two hills together. Spread along the road were giant stone sculptures of warriors on horse back, kings, emperors and noble people. A headless platoon of stone warriors stood nearby a plinth that symbolized the 7 elements of Sun, Moon, Metal, Wood, Water, Earth and Fire the Empress Wu Zetian said her husband Emperor Gao Zong embodied in his achievements.

The Famen Temple with all it's true magical Chinese architecture and candle lit halls also worked to help us get through the wet journey. This was made even more tragic when Natashka translated that the the ill spoken lady with the speaker system said there were no pyramids or tombs on the trip, just mausoleums. And that it was a business slash historical private tour of some kind. What Bob had done to get us this tour I had no idea. We headed off into the misty wet down pore towards yet another tomb of little interest to us. I began to plan ahead and think how I would have to stay behind in Xi'an alone to try once again and locate the Pyramids. Maybe I had to go about 'hiring' a special guide with a car. The rain splattered hard against the windows as we drove down a straight well tarmacked but quiet road. The landscape was a lush green, yet the views were shortened my the heavy low lying cloud. In the horizon all I could see were a few trees looming out like dark shadows from the mist and rain. A hill emerged as drew closer as kept on going. It was a lone shadowed hill that stood out alone in an open field. A tall pointed mound with a straight lines. My face burst into an uncontrollable smile.

As the hill drew closer my excitement had me standing up against the bus window and beckoning the Slovenians over. It was as blatantly a pyramid as there ever was one. Not the tallest but at least 100 feet in height, though it was hard to tell from the bus and my sense of height was bad anyway. It didn't matter. It stood now so close to the road I wanted to tell the bus driver to stop. In fact I wanted to escape the bus and not come back for fear of missing this elusive site. Mara saw this and had Natashka speak with the microphone girl.

"She say we stop soon."

My mind was rushing with options.

"And," continued Natashka with a little smile which she knew she'd kept with me, nodded at the pyramid. "Is where the woman says we stop near."

The rain continued to pelt down as the guide led us and the other 10 Chinese through a stone archway. We were at Maoling Mausoleum, it was a place I had read a little about as being one of the 'Pyramid Tombs'. It never stuck me as also having many other pyramids around it. But from the ground I could see nothing but a typical Chinese inner temple courtyard. Red wooden door like frames appeared along the garden path that led to an inner house that housed a museum. After a 2 minute frantic walk around I saw no trace of a Pyramid like structure on display and so headed out again. To my right there was a garden with wonderful trees where giant red blossoms bloomed, it attracted Natashka. As we grew nearer an exterior staircase reviled itself leading up to the top of a large steep foliage covered object.

"Ah ha," mused Mara, "That must be your big pyramid that looks like a grass mound!"

I looked at her with an exasperated expression, "I'll see you guys at the top."

There was no way it could have been the same Pyramid we saw coming in. It was isolated, this one had a garden surrounding it. The stone steps were very small, as if built for a baby feet. They were incredibly slippery, made worse by the continuing downpour. There was no banister to hold on to either, but to the sides there was some foliage and pulling at it I made my way quickly to the top.

Larger steps heralded the end of the climb through a red wooden square archway. There was a small ten by ten foot platform at the top which I stood as my eyes met with a vista of green fields ahead of me. Then to my right I saw it. Standing as if it had been a dropped straight from the sky was a huge Pyramid. Covered in brown dried up shrubbery and lined sporadically with pine trees it had become a part of the landscape. To its left and further back I spotted another in the distance, and again another behind that one. I inhaled the damp cold air and then blew it out in a long sigh. Whatever people say, tombs, mausoleum or grassy mounds. There was no mistaking them for being anything else other than Pyramids.

Taking my camera out from its water proof bag I shielded it from the rain. The wind was strong out in the open and it made it difficult to protect the camera from water. I managed some long overdue photographs and with Mara's help a tourist shot of myself with them in the distance.

"Where are the Chinese?" I asked Natashka, hoping to hear something positive.

Natashka took a second to reply. " There're emm. They're still doing the museum part. I told the guide we were going ahead up here."

It was what I wanted to hear.

"Well," interjected Mara, "They're pyramids alright. Happy now?"

Wincing I looked at them, and then at the step of steps leading down on the other side. "I'm going to have a closer look guys. I have too. It's too good to pass up." Then looking back at them and apologised, offering that they might come along too. I didn't wait, one look from Mara told me that they needed to chat about it first.

I didn't have the time to wait for a chat in the rain. There was a time limit ticking here. The tour still had to finish the museum, and then make there way up the slippery steps. And then pose for photos. Then make there way down again before heading to the bus. I had time. I had to have time. The steps were as small as the other side but not nearly as slippery. They were still wet though and more than once I slid down several at time. At the bottom there were several stone paths leading off to several little red archways. With only one shot at taking the right path I chose the one that was slightly wider than the rest. It went under the first arch and veered off in a winding manner to the left though some flowering bushes. Then it straightened out to arrive at Chinese style hut. Huge red doors with heavy black iron locking it shut to all.

The path stretched out on either side of the hut like entranceway but ended in a row of pine trees. For a reason I can only put down to instinct I did not stop. Walking quickly to the pine trees on the right I pushed into them. My hands felt the cold wet stone first. Feeling along and then down I realised it was a fence. It didn't take mush effort to pus further into the branches and climb over the stone fence to the other side. Though in the process my neon orange poncho went through the final process of falling apart.

The rain whipped my face as I looked up at the formidable structure before me. The open grass land meant the wind picked up the rain and helped it get into my every pore. It was about 200ft to the Pyramids base and running without caution I felt like the nerdy amateur archaeologist in the world. People had to have seen me run across the grassy area. Looking back towards the stone stepped mound I suddenly realised that that too was a pyramid. Though a much older looking one that had let trees grow all around its pyramidal structure. At the top there were the red archways. The rain blurred my vision as I searched for an audience. Nobody. The rain was keeping people at bay. If I was breaking the law, the security guards were in hiding and not too pushed. There was no sign of the girls either.

The pyramid was completely covered in brown soil. The sporadic green pine trees seemed well spaced out it was almost screaming to say it had once blatantly covered up by the authorities. I reached out and touched the light brown earth covered slope almost as if confirming if it was real. Damp soil and slippery dead brown grass greeted my fingers. I pushed deeper, more soil, hard and gritty. The words 'grassy mound' wouldn't leave my head. Although this was far from grassy. It was covered in light brown soil, and the pine trees looked as if they had been planted by man and not nature. Following the base I started to walk around the structure. Its similarity to Egyptian pyramids was striking. They too were burial sites, yet they were 'pyramids'. It is one of humanity's epic journeys. Thousands of years ago people came out of the wild and formed civilisation along with ritual. Yet these structures rarely made it into the news. I was of course looking for an opening, but none came. Turning the first corner I looked back just in time to see some black dots appear on top of the first mound. The tour was already at the top.

On the other side the view was impressive. It was isolated. Free from any form of modern structures. In the distance and across several miles of grass stood the other pyramid. Graceful and permanent. Again I looked my pyramid up and down. Nothing but brown soil and spread out pine trees. Nothing to indicate solid stone or brick. Up ahead there was a cluster of light brown rocks scattered around the ground. Walking closer I could clearly see that there had been an excavation there at some point. But no entrance. Then as clear as it could be in the heavy grey rain I saw a metal grill in the ground. It had several rocks around it that obscured it from plain sight. Moving closer I leant over to peer down at it.

IT was pitch black behind the rusty iron grill plate. It was locked as well, though the rusty lock did not look like it was worthy of a key any more. Fumbling in my pocket I found my head torch and risking it to the rain I turned the light on. My face lit up into another hardened smile. There behind the grill in the depths of darkness my torch illuminated a smooth stone tunnel complete with steps leading down. My heart filled with dreams of ancient wonders and future adventure when the shrill of my phones message tone brought me back with a bang.

"Sweety, they r about 2 head back down. Wht 2 do?"

It was Mara. My head rocked back and faced the sky. Rain pelted my eyes shut and I drank the sweet water as it fell into my mouth. A distant inner voice recalled a saying. 'Sometimes it's better to never reach a goal than to have it.'

How could one possibly top being in Lhasa during the uprising. It wasn't going to happen. But heading on a bus to Lhasa's train station leading to The world's highest train was one way to keep the adrenaline buzzing.

We had arrived three hours before departure in the early morning chill. Anil was taking no chances. Yesterday he sent over half of the group back to Kathmandu, and today he was about to send the rest of us off to Xi'an. We had been stopped and boarded on the bus just as many times by the Chinese military. At the station there seemed like more military than the day before. It was a little busier too.

A group of three Chinese soldiers blocked out path as he scrambled up the pedestrian entranceway of the train station. Anil flashed our tickets and talked to them awhile. Chinese state media had been announcing all evening how all foreigner had been safely evacuated. Now their programmed brains had to cope with seeing 10 non evacuated foreigners, all heading up towards them.

It didn't take them long and soon we were pointed into a queue with a group of locals. For each member of the group Anil had to verify and provide copies of our permit papers. Our bags were put through a metal detector, each one sending an alarm off. Unlike the locals the man with our photocopied papers grunted at the security men to ignore the alarm and let us through. There were no heartfelt goodbye's with Anil. He was not permitted into the station proper. It was the last we saw of him.

It was a relief to have had our permits, tickets and passports pass through Chinese security. We were leaving Lhasa finally. We were also on our own now. For the first time in day's we were just a group of tourists and travellers again.

The new train station was huge. It had a giant warehouse feel to it. A high scaffolding style roof and large open plan waiting area. We made our way over to section T28 and sat in the double row of cream plastic chairs. Station police roamed around in black uniforms, never once making eye contact with us, or looking in our direction. An announcement in Chinese echoed over the speaker system. Then it repeated in English, and instantly made me think of Orwell's 1984.

"Ladies and gentlemen - for the betterment of your value please be aware of removing all your remain baggage from the self cleaning area to help facilitate the staff in accomplishing their duties."

For sure we were in China now. The announcements kept coming, but we were already talking amongst ourselves about where we were now headed. Was the rest of China really going to be like this?

Having lost Quinnell for a moment, he had gone off in search of food, we boarded the rather ordinary train. There were four to a compartment, two bunk beds opposite each other. My compartment consisted of me on the bottom right, above which the American Chris. Opposite us were the Slovenian Girls' Mara and Natashka.

Again, the compartment was nothing out of the ordinary. The walls were light grey and all else white. There was however the one thing we had heard about that made this train special. There above each bunk bed at the far end were two little holes marked 'Oxygen'. We all smiled upon seeing them. It was a sign that we were indeed going somewhere special.

In my expectations of the train trip going through some of the remotest landscapes on earth I had envisaged myself glued to the window for the full three days, camera in hand. It was however somewhat surreal to be lying on my bed thinking about the rioters, the hotel fire, the people we had left behind and then flick my eyes over to the window and see the top of the world.

Chris seemed to be having no such thoughts. He had settled down from his hyper paranoid attitude and was fast becoming the train clown. It was a good distraction listening to him go on about how he had left his laundry in a local cleaner only to see that and all his clothes go up in flames. He wasn't even wearing any underwear. We did round up of donations and managed to round up some basics for him to wear. Though the lack of underwear was never resolved for some reason.

Our carriage became the center of daytime social events, Quinnell and Stefan next door would often come in to pass their time before heading off to the restaurant carriage for beer. The thought of drinking all day on a train like this did not appeal to me for some reason. I'd already past that faze of my journey more times than once. Instead I found myself thinking of the journey as a whole.

It had passed so quickly, yet so much had happened. Was I really about to finish my trip in the next few weeks? It was like the Taj Mahal or Everest had once been for me until I had seen them for myself. An idea of only two dimensions. My trip would soon reach the third dimension of fulfilment, of completion, hindsight and worst of all, appraisal.

"It's amazing."

Shrugging I looked over at Mara opposite me. She had just heard the whole outline of my life during the past 4 years. I rarely told the story in its entirety. But time was one thing we had now. What's more she was a smart girl and had even got me digging up my past. As a traveller on the road for some time its not uncommon to have a group gather around you as you tell a tale. It's nothing special at the best of times. But here Mara took a little different tack to listening.

"You gotta get that stuff down on paper." she said with a delicious grin. Her eyes were the kind that told you what she was thinking. Smart, witty and curious about everything life had to offer her. She was hungry for knowledge.

I sighed and then smiled. "Why do I have a feeling you like that kind of story?"

She laughed deeply and flirted harmlessly, "A man with conscious, how rare is that?"

"Drink Beer!"

It was Stefan and Chris heading back from the restaurant, a can of China Blue Ribbon in each of their hands.

"Actually," mumbled Stefan in-between two large burps, "Time to sleep," He made his way to the compartment next door.

It made for a good opportunity to head down the corridor ourselves and investigate what the highest train in the world had on offer. The answer was not all that much, though the window views were a cinematographers dream. It reminding me of the scenery during form the Tibet tours landcruisers.. Stark and at times bland, but in reality mesmerizing.

It was a unique landscape. Alien in part. Aside from the tour I had never seen anything like it Even now it was made all the more dramatic by the fact we were on a train. There were no roads marking the rough reddish earth outside. There were no people to be seen, not sign of life at all. Not even a yak.

Vast mountain peeks the names of which I will never know ran the horizon. The eternal blue sky hung above us, it's blue deeper than ever. We cut through it all in near silence. The train didn't make the old clickity clack sound. Occasionally it would make a resemblance to than nostalgic sound. But, more often than not we just heard the hissing of Oxygen being pumped into the carriages.

At the restaurant car the small menu, in both Chinese and English, offered a limited but diverse selection of local specialities. The only one not to me salivating was the fresh seafood noodle dish. At 5000m in a barren landscape, not so fresh I think.

Quinnell was sitting with Natashka, his eyes reflection the landscape by the window.

"French guy", blurted Mara as she sat opposite him, "Keeping Natashka all to yourself?"

He smiled. "Oh, but why not? She is beautiful no?"

WE laughed as we ordered. Quinnell had a deft sense of humour. Smart and yet ridiculously stupid in purpose. It might have been the excess of oxygen but his idea for a book on toilets had us gagging in laughter. Crude and not to the amusement of the Chinese table opposite us as they got up and left.
We weren't that loud, I think.

A group of foreigners, entered the carriage and we recognised them as the group that we had met at the train station yesterday. A friendly wave of unisoned evacuation had them sitting down in the freshly vacated seats. Apparently they didn't get much pleasure in toilet humour either.

Dan was fairly hefty looking guy. Overweight, but not so much to say that he was fat. More along the lines of saying you wouldn't want to get in a fight with the guy. He was with his girlfriend and another couple. They'd all come down from their holiday in Beijing to see the Tibetan capital for a few days. Bad timing.

"That was some party eh?" smiled Dan, after ordering from the menu.

"Oui," replied Quinnell, "to bad about it all."

After staying quiet about where we had been, we listened to Dan as he told us they had been staying on the outskirts of the city when the riots broke out. Chancing their luck, and not knowing much about riots they'd ventured into the center of the city.

"We were in the shit I tell you." he said rubbing his face, "Damn people running everywhere. Buildings on fire. What the hell? They were tearing the place apart. Quite a scene eh guys?"

He looked over at his this girlfriend as she feigned a smile in return. "Damn Army just arrived when we got there. We never even took a picture near them. But the ass holes still stopped us."

It was easy to tell the man was angry, his fists clenched until his fingers were white. "Didn't even say anything, one chap. Just tried to grab Tammy here's camera." He reached out with his arm and mimed his actions. "I stopped the fellow from going anywhere near her... but some another one of them pushed me away and grabbed at my camera.""

Dan's facial expression changed from tighten anger to that of disgust, "Nothing we could do. They were all around us. One chap shouting 'No picture! No picture!' We argued back like. But they ignored us and drove off."

There was awkward silence between us now. No one sure quite how angry Dan was. Telling him our story would not have helped. He was a man with a damaged ego. Proud to have led his friends into a 'riot'. Used to getting his own way, until the Chinese gave him no option other than to submit.

"Quite a story," Chirped Quinnell.

"Yea," said Mara, briefly widening her eyes at the two of us, "At least you got away safely."

The food arrived and it was a good excuse to change the topic. My order of Chicken Kung Pao was small, but tasty. The green vegetables were actually very fresh and crisp. Natashka had been studying Chinese for the past year and was quickly able to order us a second serving.

It was with the two Slovenian girls that I spent most of the time. They were fun to be around. Sarcastic, flirtatious and intelligent conversation holders. We exchanged book titles that we'd read, ridiculed our stories of failed romance and enjoyed regular jibes towards Chris's lack of underwear.

As late afternoon approached the landscape outside changed from a barren rust colour to one of white snow. The sun was stronger than ever and created a shiny white glare on the snows surface. Black jagged rocks pierced through their soft icy blankets in random breakthroughs. Dunes of snow created a myriad of white hills.

Camera's came out as the train slowed to a near halt. I would have gladly paid a high price for the privilege of getting out for thirty minutes. The trains window reflected badly as the high altitude sun flared all around us. Just thirty minutes for the blessing of being able to walk out into this destitute place. To touch the pure unpolluted snow, breath in the rare and precious air. To feel the sub zero temperatures sink in briefly.

Our train never fully stopped. We kept going. It wasn't a disappointment though. A smile crossed my face and a feeling of serenity passed through me. It was something I had learned in this journey already. If we always get what we want, then where's the fun in trying to achieve it. Somethings are better left in our to do list.

The night passed quickly, as did the next day. We were still catching up on our lack of sleep. The mountainous view continued and we soaked up the last of these precious scenes as they flew by. We lay there with the oxygen tubes inserted into our noses like dying hospital patients. The steady flow of cold air and the strange sensation of it all made everything seem so precious that lying in silence was well respected.

This silence was often broken into as Chris could only lye still for so long. His antics would entertain us like some adolescent school pranks as he the Slovenians teased him with outrageous flirts. Quinnell used his time to ponder his life while Stefan used it to empty out the bar. My time was spent finishing what would be the last of my travel books.

A shout from Stefan broke our little world apart. "Guys, Help!"

From his carriage door we looked down to see him trying to pick Karla up from the floor.

"What happened?" I asked trying in vein to squeeze into the little compartment to help.

Stefan propped Karla's limp frame up by the shoulders, "I dunno. She must have been trying to get down from the top bunk and fell."

"Is she alright?" asked Mara from the corridor outside. The compartment door was too small for everyone to fit inside.

Hoistingher by the shoulders Stefan lifted Karla onto one of the bottom bunks as I followed through with lifting her legs. It was a bad idea to move someone after a fall, but given as Stefan had already started and that we were on a moving train it seemed to be right.

"Well," said Stefan looking closely at Karla's pale unconscious face, "She's still breathing."

Turning back to the others I realised we needed qualified help, "Can someone call the train attendant?" I paused as a thought crossed my mind. "Natashka, you should go. You speak Chinese. And Chris, the other American group, can you see if any of them are Doctor's or something?"

For a moment we were back in the hotel in Lhasa. It had helped. People moved quickly and without question this time.

"E're is some water," said Quinnell handing me a small bottle, "I think she 'as not been feeling so well since yesterday."

He was right. Karla had gone into a silent mood ever since we had left Lhasa. I had put it down to tiredness, or a kinda of post traumatic stress thing. But, still. She had never joined us for dinner, or in the other compartment.

Natashka returned with a tall Chinese attendant in a black rail road jacket. The man stared into the compartment with wide eyes. Natashka explained to him what had happened in Chinese as young female attendant appeared beside him. They both immediately covered their mouths with both hands in exasperated shock.

Seeing this Stefan pointed to the man, "You, go bring medical kit."

"Ahh...ohhh," gasped the attendant.

"Medical bag," repeated an agitated Stefan. "Med...ic..al..bag."

Natashka and translated and the two attendants disspeared off down the corridor.

Karla stirred.

Squeezing her hand gently I began to rub the back of it, "Karla? Can you hear me?"

She mumbled a response as her eyes darted left and right.

I tried again. "Karla? You fell Karla. On the train. You're OK."

She raised up her hand to her head, and spoke again. "Ish mannunan dul put?"

It was Swedish, or at least my interpretation of what Swedish sounded like.

"Something about falling." commented Stefan, "I don't speak Swedish but..."

The train attendant appeared at the doorway, a small red first aid box in his hand. Natashka spoke to him again in Chinese and he frantically tried to open it. A bundle of white bandages fell out followed by a some antiseptic.

We looked at each other as if to say we would even know what to do with a complete medical kit.

"I fell I think?"

It was Karla, here eyes opening up more. She looked around the room at the various faces looking in at her.

"How do you feel?" I asked backing away to give her some room.

She rubbed at her head a little and then shuffled her body slightly. "Ooh, I guess I am fine."

Pausing she looked up at Stefan before giving him a stupid grin and slumping back. She shook her head slowly from side to side and then gave us a thumbs up sign.

Although we were unsure about the situation, we sent the attendant away with his medical bag and helped Karla to sit up. A retuning Chris also had to be sent away as he brought the group of non medial American's with him and started firing off questions all around.

It turned out that Karla hadn't eaten properly since she had lost her wallet in Shigasti several days ago. Her money was low and she'd run out from a loan another Swedish girl on the tour had given her. Not liking long journey's she's decided to take a sleeping pill to help sleep through a large portion of the train trip. An empty stomach and a sedative at high altitude did not mix well.

Our evening consisted of Quinnell's toilet humour and our future plans of travel. The few quiet afternoons in Lhasa had given me an opportunity to email a hostel in Xi'an. It was right beside the railway station and had internet access plus a knowledgeable sounding owner. Though the Slovenians had planned a different place to stay, out gilding friendship meant that we would all head there for one night at least.

It didn't bother me if they'd all headed off somewhere else. My purpose in Xi'an was not to everyone's taste, and aside from reaching Shanghai was the last of my journey's goals. It wasn't to see the famous terracotta warriors as most flocked to see. It was to confirm and photograph something I had read about over 5 years ago. The Lost Pyramids.

A little known fact was that Xi'an was only the third place in the world after Egypt and Central America where these mysterious burial tombs were built. It intrigued only the Slovenian Girls and tales of there history and location swept us into our last night.

By morning the landscape outside had changed dramatically. From desolate dry rust colored soil we watched as it changed to dark moist brown hue with scatterings of yak's. Then to a lush green as we lowered under 3500 meters. The Yak's preferred high altitude and had been replaced by cattle, and farmland.. We were now passing through wide open pastures of flat land.

Occasionally we would see a mountain range, devoid of snow but still majestic. Towns were becoming more frequent too. First Spartan and run-down looking places, replaced soon enough be concrete grey activity and construction.

Our last day on the train brought about a shortage of food. The restaurant car had run out of chicken and beef. Still plenty of fresh fish on offer strangely enough. I settled for a double portion of pork noodles. We had all chipped in and bought Karla as much food as humility would allow her to eat. Guide books were out, and the group confirmed their plans.

Stefan an Quinnell would leave Xi'an in the next day or so and head to Chengdu trogehter. While the Slovenians and Chris were happy to stick it out for a few days with me Pyramid searching. After that Chris would say goodbye to his mother and come with me to Beijing while the girls headed south towards Thailand. Karla's plan was to stay one night with us at the hostel before meeting up with a couch surfing friend who somehow had the answer to her financial woes.

A gentle dusk signalled our arrival into Xi'an. The station was crowded and the amount of people carrying suitcases, plastic bags and boxes filled with all manner of household items was staggering. It made India's train stations look tame. Outside in the open was even more impressive. My first look at china proper at night was a daunting one. Crowds. Thousands of people all congregated around the railway entrance. Never before had I seen such a public mass of people in one area.

Crowds have always been less than appealing to me. A place where your pockets could be rifled through with easy. A place that made you vulnerable to the push and shove of humanity. My rush through in order to get to the main road meant we missed the first turn on the hostel owners instructions to find him. Thankfully Natashka's Chinese came in use and through asking a host of dubious taxi men, local stalls and bystanders we soon found ourselves at Uncle Bill's Hostel.

"You say one! But you very many for one person!"

Bill was an energetic young looking guy in his thirties. We were the only people at this hostel and he was more than glad to see us.

Lady luck fell my way and I ended up sharing a triple with the Slovenians while the others went for two dorms. Ignoring the topic of where we had just come from, Bill took us out to his nearby night-time eating establishment.

It was strange being in a modern built up city again. Bright neon lights flashed as people scoured the footpaths. Stream spewed out of wall side vents and night time hawkers peddled their trade. This was China.

It was past 1pm when our bus escorted us though Lhasa. We were heading in the opposite direction of the Jokhang temple so the there was little to see in terms of burnt out buildings like there had been from our hotel. In fact it was now our turn to be stared at. We were a group of foreigners squashed into a mini bus with our bags crammed everywhere staring out into a combat zone.

Anil was standing in the center aisle by the front doors. He was nervously looking around and continuously pleaded with us not to even take a camera out. He made mention of how the camera would be taken away by the army, and how he would be punished. This was the first time Anil openly admitted he was scared of the Chinese. It wasn't a tactic either, the man looked at us as if his life depended on us doing as he asked.

Ordinary Tibetans on the street peered up at us with sadden eyes. Most likely for their own suffering, but maybe also for seeing their former country be displayed like this to strangers. Some looked almost embarrassed by the whole thing.

The army types stationed at regular intervals along the road also stared. For the first time I actually caught a little emotion in their faces. Their eyes darted along the buses windows as they too started at the evacuating faces. Some had a look of confusion, others just scowled.

Passing by the Potala Palace was a little eerie. The large white temple grounds were surrounded by tanks. At least 15 of them were dispersed throughout the parking area and road surrounding the temple. Almost like a coup force surrounding a presidential palace.

Our escort stopped briefly at a junction before letting us head off alone into the suburbs of Lhasa. Anil continued to pleas with us not to take our cameras out. The suburbs looked peaceful. Showing no signs of damage from the riots. It was obvious some shops were shut up when normally they would be open, but surprisingly every thing looked quite normal.

One of the Australians asked what we were all thinking. "Where are we going?"

Anil looked perplexed as he answered back, "We just need to get you out of the center."

"Are we going to another hotel?" Asked someone else.

Anil paused this time, before answering back, "Your safety is our main concern. We are going to arrange for you to get back to Kathmandu."

No fucking way! My blood pressure rose and I felt an immediate reaction to escape from the bus. There was not way in hell I was going back to Kathmandu. I was one hundred per cent sure that the Chinese would seal of the borders to Tibet after such an event. I would never be able to complete my overland journey.

My mind raced through the vision of arriving back at the guest house in Kathmandu, and then planning a reverse trip back though India, Pakistan and then into China through the Karakorum Highway. It was the wrong time of year though, the highway would be blocked for months. Heck to get into China I would nearly have to double back into central Asia and then into Russia. It would be a disaster.

"No way Anil, I am not going back!" I stated loudly.

Ignoring my statement Anil tried again, "We will arrange the Landcrusiers to pick us up and we will be back in 3 days."

There were murmurs of positive reaction from behind me. I looked at Quinnell beside me as he shook his head, he had wanted to move into china too. Though I did not know how seriously he would try. I had to move fast to get support.

"Anil, I cannot go back. It's not possible," I said with force. "I have a plane ticket for Shanghai. I spent 8 years planning this. I am not going back."

It was a weak argument. I failed to engage the others emotionally in their own trips.

Anil shook his head, "We need to take you back. We are in trouble with the Chinese. If we do not look after you we will go to jail. And the trip to Kathmandu will be free of charge.

A free trip back sent another ripple of interested murmurs though the bus. It meant nothing to me though.

I tried again. This time looking at Stefan and Quinnell as examples. "I understand. But some of us here have plans. The riot is over. It's safe. We just want to go to the train station."

"Yes", confirmed Quinnell at last, "I wish to go to Chengdu. I cannot go back. I 'ave my ticket already."

The Australians objected loudly, "No way mate. We want to go back. This guy's life is in danger here if we don't."

My blood boiled, this was coming from the guy who spent most of last night making plans to publish his videos on-line and contacting the media with his footage. He had promised to blank out people's faces but the mere idea of using Anil's life as an excuse enraged me.

"No!" I barked, "His life is not endanger. It's over already. Now we continue on as we were meant to."

"It is our job to protect you." said Anil trying once again to confirm his intentions. "We must see you safely out of Tibet. Otherwise they can put us in Jail."

Waving my hand in protest I sat up high in my chair, "No it's not! Your contract was to give us a tour, not to see us out of Tibet."

Stefan nodded in agreement.

"This is China, not your country." replied Anil with authority.

"It may be china," I replied but I know a contract. "Our contract technically finished with you today. After that it states we are free to do as we please."

My argument was too aggressive, Anil reacted with authority as he left the bus. "No. We go back. That is the end."

He left the bus as a car pulled up beside us with the travel companies name on it. Inside the bus the Australians behind me chipped in again.

"Listen mate, this guy's life is endanger. We should do as he tells us and go back."

I looked around and glared at the sunglasses wearing twenty something. In truth I never felt like smashing my fist into someone's face to shut them up more than I did then. IT would solve nothing though, and I knew that. Still I was angry, and it showed.

"His life is not in Danger." I snarled back. "His contracts up with us. I did not come all this way just to go back now!"

The back seat occupants mumbled to each other. They saw my rage and were unsure how to respond. Anil's last words were they were going back, so that's what they settled on by themselves.

Quinnell began to show his frustration to as he started out the bus window. "Dis is not good. I don't want to go back either," he stood up to follow Anil outside, "I will talk to them."

As I stood up to follow, and possibly make a run for it a clam, unexpected hand touched mine. It was the German lady with an obsession with her guidebook.

"You need to remain calm," she said in a hushed manner. "Think about approach him about all of us, and not just about you."

At the time I thought she meant to help me. Encouraging me to fight for what I wanted my making it sound like a group thing. But in hindsight I think she was telling me to shut up. She wanted to head back to Kathmandu after all. But telling me to calm down and approach things from a different angle did help me rethink my strategy.

By the time I got out of the bus Quinnell was already approaching Anil in a calm manner asking about alternatives. Anil had been joined by a lady holding a clip board with all our names and seemed to be listening, though perhaps not agreeing.

"We 'ave the train tickets 'ere." stated Quinnell calmly, "all we need to do is get to the train station."

I interjected with an easy thinking fact, "He's right. And the train station is not far from here."

Anil looked in thought as the Australian duo came out of the bus behind Stefan. I immediately positioned myself in front of their path to Anil to prevent any interruptions. I was sensing we were getting somewhere.

"There's no harm in trying."Added Stefan.

"And its better than waiting around here on the street," I added.

Looking around Anil listened as lady beside him nodded. He agreed to take us to the train station.

We had won a moral victory. We had bought some time to think. My worst fear was that if the train station was closed, which was a strong factor considering the last twenty four hours, we were screwed. It all hinged on the station being open, and in the military letting us through.

The bus headed off slowly. We stopped twice en route to the train station on the cities outskirts for a brief military inspection. Then on bridge, within sight of the station, we were boarded by an army officer. Strangely he looked none of us in the eye. Instead he had Anil ask if we were carrying and large knives over 6 inches. I had the feeling her had not been briefed, or rather programmed, to deal with potential riot escapees. Either that or he felt it necessary to say something relative to security.

The train station was a large stark and bland open area. It was empty bar for a few cars. But the neon train timetable outside was still working, it gave me hope. Refusing to let us check for ourselves Anil headed inside to check if trains were still running. He asked for out tickets. I had hoped that he would never mention that we had been due to leave at 9am this morning, but he never said anything. Instead he headed off to find out what our fate would be.

Trusting Anil was a no go option. At lest that was my call. He could have come back and said anything he wanted. He would have failed in making me beleive there were no trains running. This was confirmed as a group of four American tourists now showed up in a taxi. They'd been here earlier and had left to confirm with the rest of their group about what trains they wanted to take. I didn't have much to do with them, but Mara told me later that they had had there cameras confiscated my the military the day before. Again I thought of the Italian in our group, his memory card uncomfortably positioned in a rubber sheath nestled into his posterior.

Anil appeared and as he walked towards us he let loose his first smile of the day. Trains were running. We needed to pay a little more, put even our old tickets could be reimbursed for new ones the following day. We had succeeded in getting a way out of Tibet.

The mood changed instantly within the group. Anil's boss turned out to be the lady with the clip board, and she confirmed that they would now offer anyone wanting to go to Kathmandu the option of doing so with their Landcrusiers, and those going to mainland China could get the train to Xi'an with the rest of us.

Everyone was happy bar for two New Zealanders. They had remained quiet during all of this. But seeing their opportunity no embarked on a triad of demands upon the tour boss. They wanted a flight to Chengdu instead. I have no idea how they comprehended how a flight to another part of China was going to happen for them. But they were determined in their argument. Unfortunately snap comments and nasty remarks from the soon austrisized them from the rest of the group.

During the last 36 hours I had learned a lot about peoples reactions under different life threatening situations. From all out panic, to follow the crowd mentality. To selfish actions to self sacrifice to help others. Humankind is very diverse in its personality's. Putting a diverse group together in a situation like this was almost like pealing away personalities, leaving behind just raw emotion and basic wants.

We each saw what we can be like in a potentially life threatening situation we were not trained or experienced in. It was a unique moment in time that would live with us all forever. The faces, the events, the feelings, the experience.

Anil emerged with our tickets. HE also seemed very relieved about the situation. His next course of action was to try and get us accommodation for the night. Our own situation taken care of, I took the opportunity to ask him about his own situation now.

He was fine, he lived outside Lhasa and his family were safe. With the two Australians in the background mentioning the media again a thought crossed my mind and I asked Anil about the amount of Video and photographs we had taken over past few days.

He looked at me with humiliation, "I cannot make a comment on this."

He meant that if he told us not to use the photographs of his people during the riots, then he too would be in trouble. It was a serous point that meant life and death to those involved. Anil and his team had helped us. And although I am not sure of what would have happened if any of us had gone missing or had died. I was sure that photographs and video showing the faces of Tibetans would surely be picked up by the Chinese police.

Speaking with Mara I asked if she could make sure the two Australians understood the consequences of releasing unedited footage of the riots. She had a good relationship with the two young men. And, after my snarling at them earlier I figure she was the best one to talk with them.

We ended up at another fairly plush hotel on the outskirts of the city that night. It had internet and the true scale of the riots finally came in light. As did the selfish side of people appear. The American's Chris and his mother Valerie had a laptop, and dissipated to their room without a word when we could not get the public computers downstairs to work. When they did work Karla and her friend immediately set out to work on spending the rest of the day and night contacting the Swedish press. Even Stefan ended up with a press call.

It was the sending of photos that hit me hard. As I looked at some news footage on-line one of the landcrusier drivers came up behind me in a rush.

"Is that me?!" he exclaimed, pointing at a blurry closed up of Beijing Xilu Road.

It didn't look like his face. "No, it's not you I don't think."

He looked at me with wide eyes, "But it's the same coat I have."

That was true. But then again most Tibetan men had a partiality towards dark coats. HE continued looking at the news photographs. They were sparse, but each one was discussed in local Tibetan. An occasional hand would point out someone they might have recognized. Across on an other computer Karla plugged her camera in as the Landcrusiers headed back to Kathmandu with the rest of the group.