What a perfect Beijing morning. The northwesterly breeze brought beautiful blue skies to the city. Traffic was not all that tough and the taxi made it to the airport in about 45 minutes. This provided a solid two hour and fifteen minute buffer before departure, which contrary to US travel is a welcome comforter.
Surprise! The time printed on my ticket was over an hour later than the real departure. So, arriving with a buffer allowed me to simply wait 20 minutes and board the flight, which was perfect. China Air is unbelievable. The service is superb and the food truly delicious. What a great flight.
Xi’an is proving to be an interesting city. The pollution level is at least 20 times worse than Beijing. In the middle of the day it feels like dusk is approaching through the orange haze. This is the first city where my eyes are watering from the pollution. The sulfur is thick like Rotorua, New Zealand, except there are no visible volcanoes as a source.
To travel to Tibet in a couple of days I need to gain an official permission, translating into handing over $100 for a red rubber ink stamp on paper. This process used to take a week, but has been condensed to 3 to 5 days. A miracle of sorts will need to take place to be able to receive one in just 24 hours. Fortunately, the manager of the hostel knows exactly where the Tibet Embassary office is located, on the other side of town, and the proper person with whom to speak.
The Tibetan building looked like a communist era relic, complete with peeling paint and dank lighting. A man from the gatehouse led me down musty dark corridors the color of nicotine staining. Then he stopped and pointed the rest of the way down the hall to the lone door. (This could be the perfect entry scene for a horror flick.) No one was there. The sign displayed the operating hours until 6:30pm and it was only 4:30pm. My decision was to wait and see.
About fifteen minutes later a woman came by talking on her cell phone. She pointed to the door and I nodded. Her hand grazed across the posted sign in true "Vanna White" style emphasizing the obvious phone number. I mimed the fact that I didn’t have one. She then momentarily stopped her conversation to say, “One moment please.” After no more than three or four minutes she dialed the phone number, initiated the conversation, and politely handed me the phone. I was now talking with the proper contact. He was very congenial and said he would “be right there”. Thanking my heroine, I wondered what “be right there” really meant. In any case it was bound to be less than the two hours I was previously willing to wait.
Within minutes, along came my smiling Tibetan contact. He was so gracious and willing to help. Asking when I wanted to travel and hearing the response of “the day after tomorrow” he replied, “No problem, I will give you a copy of the permission so you can buy a ticket tomorrow and then you come back at 5pm tomorrow and I will give you the official permission.” He was so happy to help and even seemed excited for me to be heading to Lasa.
Filled with the energy of my Tibetan exposure, I walked the two hours back to the hostel. Even in the thick haze of nighttime smog the ancient walls of the city were beautiful.
I stopped in a local restaurant for the special "Xi’an Style" noodles with an egg on top and Sichuan chicken. It was all delicious and the price of $3 couldn’t be beat.
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