Gansu’s Tibetan Getaway
If you’re looking for a new domestic destination next time a “golden week” rolls around, I highly recommend the little-known Tibetan region of Gansu Province in China’s west. The small town of Xiahe, sitting near the border with Qinghai, is home to one of the country’s most important monasteries outside Lhasa.
Traditionally Gansu marked the border of imperial Chinese rule, where the Great Wall ends its long journey from the east coast. The Tibetan state of Amdo once spilled into the province’s southwest, in an area today known as Gannan Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture (Gānnán Zàngzú Zìzhìzhōu). Xiahe sits here, nestled in mountains some 3,000 meters above sea level.
If you’re traveling from Beijing, the first stop on your Xiahe pilgrimage will probably be Gansu’s capital Lanzhou, a two hour flight from Beijing. A surprisingly prosperous city, money has bought its fair share of destruction to Lanzhou and little remains of the old city. One notable exception is Wu Quan Shan (Five Spring Mountain), a popular scenic spot peppered with ancient temples. If you get here early in the morning, the quite courtyards provide a welcome respite from Lanzhou’s teeming streets, while the terraces provide panoramic views of the city.
Lanzhou’s other key attraction is its niu rou mian (beef noodle soup), comprising thick chewy noodles with a distinct, salty flavor. My favorite spot to sample the delicious soup is Niu Rou Mian Da Wang, a popular eatery tucked up Da Zhong Xiang, just off Ya Ou shopping mall. If you’re after high-class surrounds or exacting hygiene standards, Niu Rou Mian Da Wang probably isn’t for you, but at RMB 3 for a steaming hot bowl of noodles, who needs pretty décor?
Having sampled Lanzhou’s famous fare, it’s a five-hour bus ride to Xiahe through a spectacular but harsh mountainous countryside scarred by deep gullies of erosion. As you steadily climb into the Tibetan region, the arid hills around Lanzhou fall away and are replaced by peaks covered by low, scrubby vegetation.
Xiahe itself lies in a pretty valley skirted by a small river. The town has a fairly non-descript newer section, which holds a small selection of hotels and shops selling Tibetan handicrafts (you can pick up a cowboy hat for around RMB 50). The real attraction is the well-preserved old town that’s a rabbit warren of narrow dirt lanes lined by earthen courtyard homes. At the far end of the settlement sits Labrang Monastery, nestled in the shadow of the surrounding peaks.
Once home to thousands of monks, these days Labrang’s population is smaller, but the monastery still holds a collection of important Tibetan Buddhist texts, some of which are hundreds of years old. The monastery can only be accessed via guided tours (RMB 40 per person), with English-language groups leaving the ticket office at 10.15am and 3.15pm. The English-language groups are generally quite small, and the monk-guide was surprisingly frank about the monastery’s history. The complex’s cavernous halls, devoid of windows and lit by only dim electric lights, reinforced the town’s medieval air. In addition to various temples, prayer halls and colleges, the tour included a room of intricate yak-butter sculptures depicting various gods and monsters.
Fascinating as the monastery was, for me the highlight of Xiahe was the kora, or the three kilometre pilgrim path that circles the town. If you join the morning pilgrims trudging the path, you’ll find yourself walking beside elderly Tibetans bent double and clutching wooden staves, as well as young women prostrating on the dusty earth with every step. Much of the trail is lined by prayer wheels – 1,174 of them according to the Lonely Planet travel guide. There are several sights around the town’s perimeter, including the Gongtang Chorten, a stupa with a roof terrace (entry RMB 10) that provides stunning views of the old town and surrounding hills.
After completing the kora, we headed out to the Sangke grasslands a few kilometers beyond Xiahe, where Tibetan herdsmen still live a fairly traditional lifestyle. Although a small row of shops and a restaurant reflect the growing tourist tide, nothing can detract from the beauty of the plains and snow-capped peaks in the distance. Back in Xiahe, a few hours shopping in the new part of town rounded off the day’s activities.
I haven’t been to Tibet, but Xiahe’s air of deep religiosity and the solemn, pre-modern atmosphere was unlike anywhere else I have visited in China. Many older locals spoke only rudimentary Mandarin, and even the Tibetan dialect here is quite different to that spoken in Lhasa. The town’s air of mystery held me enthralled and made me want to linger, but unfortunately the outside world beckoned. Riding a cab through Beijing’s bustling streets and forests of glass and steel a few days later, it was hard to believe Xiahe was in the same country.
Tips
*Foreign visitors are required to show their passports upon entering Gannan Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, so make sure you have it to hand.
*Xiahe sits 3,000 metres above sea level, meaning the glare from the sun can be intense on sunny days, so be sure to take sunglasses. It can also be very cold – even in mid-Autumn we needed sweaters, jackets and scarves. Taking some wet-weather gear is also advisable, as conditions can change very quickly from clear skies to pouring rain.
*Altitude sickness can be an issue at this height. Take it easy and expect to suffer from shortness of breath after mild exertion.
Accommodation and Food
Hotels in Xiahe are fairly basic, and choice is limited. The Labrang Baoma Hotel (712 1078, www.labranghotel.com) provides twins for RMB 150-180 per night. Be aware that the hot water supply can be erratic.
The Everest Café on Xiahe’s main street provides coffee (they won’t win any barrister awards, but then they only charge RMB 6 a cup). They also do reasonable Western-style breakfasts.
The Nomad Restaurant sits three stories above street level, providing great views of the old town. The menu features a decent selection of Tibetan and Chinese dishes, including yak butter tea for those brave enough to sample the traditional Tibetan drink. The only catch is service is excruciatingly slow, so it’s best to arrive early for dinner.