New Backpack Haven : For the Fit, Tibet on 40 Yuan a Day

In the 1970s, tens of thousands of young Western backpackers hiked overland from Istanbul to New Delhi or Katmandu, risking hardship and disease for a bit of adventure.

Word passed quickly, in many languages, on where to stay and eat along the route.

In Tehran, the backpackers stayed at the Amir Kabir, a $3-a-night hotel above a tire store, and many slept in beds outdoors, with a minimum of clothing to ward off the summer’s 110-degree heat.

In Kabul, Afghanistan, some played high-stakes chess on a giant board at the German-run restaurant called Ziggy’s (the winner got a milkshake; the loser had to drink a glass of Afghan tapwater).

New Route Necessary

Now those days have passed, a casualty of revolution and civil war. Because of the Iranian revolution of 1979 and the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan later that year, it became impossible for Americans, and extremely difficult for other Westerners, to follow this well-worn path.

But a new Asian overland route is being developed--for the young and fit and foolhardy--in the most surprising of places, the puritanical, security-conscious People’s Republic of China.

Over the last couple of years, the western Chinese provinces of Tibet, Xinjiang and Yunnan have finally developed into a sort of Mecca for Western backpackers. China, which until recently discouraged any sort of travel except for organized groups headed to a handful of leading tourist destinations, has for its own reasons decided to tolerate the new influx, at least temporarily.

Tibet-Nepal Border Opened

The overland traffic was given a big boost last year when China opened to ordinary travelers the previously closed border between Tibet and Nepal in the Himalaya Mountains. This spring, China has also thrown open the route through the Karakoram Mountains from Chinese Xinjiang into Pakistan.

In the center of the Tibetan capital of Lhasa, notices posted at the $2-a-bed Snowland Hotel testify to the new traffic. An example: “Leaving for Nepal? Don’t need your Chinese student card any more? That’s great! Let’s talk about it.”

A young British traveler who would identify himself only as Steve explained what was behind this: “I just came from Katmandu and am headed eventually for India. The bus from Nepal costs 84 yuan ($26), but you can do it for 40 ($12.50) with a student card.”

For young travelers, the new path through western China offers some of the same things the old one through Afghanistan supplied--an array of Asian peoples and cultures, a jolting diversion from middle-class life in the West, marvelous landscapes and, in some instances, drugs.

A young American visiting China last year said he had a “vivid memory of sitting in a boat in Dali (in Yunnan province) watching a young tourist slicing a chunk of hashish with his American Express card.”

China’s authorities, who have taken pride in virtually eradicating the opium traffic that plagued the country for much of the 19th and 20th centuries, have begun to take notice. For now, at least, they tend to take the position that whatever drugs are being used here come into China from other countries.

Wang Xiaoshu, deputy general manager of the China-Tibet Tourism Corp., said: “Some foreign tourists tell us they find some foreign drug users here. Maybe they brought some drugs along with them from Nepal.”

Tibet’s official tourist statistics show how rapid has been the influx of adventurers to western China.

From 1980 through 1984, tourist officials say, Tibet averaged about 1,500 foreign visitors a year. Last year, in part because of the opening of the border with Nepal, the figure jumped to about 10,000.

15,000 This Year

This year, officials hope for 15,000 tourists in Tibet, and according to Wang, by the year 1990, they are aiming to attract 80,000 to 100,000. (Some skeptics in the tourist industry say privately they believe Tibet’s statistics are somewhat inflated and that its goals for the future are unrealistic).

Tibetan tourist officials estimate that as many as a third of all the tourists now are young backpackers. And they make clear that they would like to attract more of the sedate, older travelers who are visiting places like Peking and Shanghai. Wang called the road from Lhasa to Katmandu the “golden road”--an indication apparently of the revenues the government believes can be earned.

Indeed, there are moves afoot in Tibet to cater to tourists with heavier suitcases and fuller wallets. The Lhasa Hotel, which features Tibet’s very first elevator, opened last year and will soon be managed by Holiday Inn. Another upscale hotel will open later this year.

But these efforts may be doomed to failure, because western China in general, and Tibet in particular, are not yet ready for those accustomed to luxury.

Famed Elevator Stalled

The Lhasa Hotel’s famed elevator, for example, attracts awed local sightseers but doesn’t work too well. One recent group of visitors found itself trapped inside for 10 minutes with no functioning telephone or alarm bell, until skilled Japanese mountaineers succeeded in prying the doors open.

As for the “golden road” from Lhasa to Katmandu, it is in fact a dusty, winding unpaved path best suited for yaks and jeeps.

The scenery and terrain are among the most spectacular in the world. At one point outside the Tibetan city of Tingri, the road offers a clear view of Mt. Everest (which the Tibetans and Chinese call Mt. Qomolangma). But the altitudes of 15,000 to 17,000 feet and the guest houses without water or electricity along the way test the endurance of even the most experienced older travelers.

At a gas station on the golden road, two British sisters over the age of 70 now living in South Africa admitted ruefully that the travel agent who sold them on a drive through Tibet gave them no idea how arduous the trip would be. “I think next year we’ll go to England,” said the younger of the two.

Not Inexpensive

Nor will ordinary tourists find Tibetan travel to be inexpensive.

The cost of renting a Toyota Landcruiser with a driver from a hotel for the 530-mile trip from Lhasa to the Nepal border is $1.05 a mile. Even that price can be obtained only through hard bargaining. The Tibetan government itself supplies similar vehicles at the rate of $1.80 a mile.

Those who are willing to ride on local buses or hitchhike on the backs of Chinese trucks, of course, can do the overland trip much more cheaply. And so, until conditions improve, young backpackers will constitute a significant share of the foreign visitors to Tibet.

Many of those traveling in western China now stop first in Hong Kong, where, it is said, one can easily buy a fake student identification card that will enable the holder to seek lower-priced train and bus fares in China. Backpackers joke about their classes at the University of Chungking Mansions, the dilapidated Hong Kong building where the student cards are sold.

Originally, the travelers to western China followed a fairly regular clockwise path from Hong Kong through Guilin to Yunnan or Tibet and then eastward back towards Peking. Now, with the new border openings to Nepal and Pakistan, many other routes are possible. For example, some backpackers travel from Katmandu to Lhasa and then through Tibet into Xinjiang, while others start in Peking and go through Tibet and Nepal to India.

For the Chinese government, the opening of western China helps provide some new income in areas which are among the nation’s poorest. Officials in Tibet refused to say how much money was earned from tourism last year.

In addition, the influx of foreign visitors may serve China’s domestic and foreign policy interests by providing a sense of legitimacy and normality to sensitive border regions dominated by ethnic minorities.

When the border of Xinjiang between China and Pakistan was opened to travelers in May, India protested, complaining that the new route went through territory in Kashmir claimed by both Pakistan and India. China rejected the protest as “utterly unjustifiable.”

Tibetans Ambivalent

Tibetan exiles, many of whom continue to press for the creation of an independent Tibet, confess that they are ambivalent about the arrival of the backpackers.

“Sometimes I see the good side to it, sometimes I see the bad side,” said Tenzin Tethong, the U.S. representative of the Dalai Lama, Tibet’s exiled spiritual leader, in a telephone interview.

“Opening up Tibet allows people to see the situation as it is, the presence of Chinese soldiers, the destruction that has taken place,” he said. “And for a lot of Tibetans, it’s very encouraging to see there is foreign interest in Tibet. On the other hand, the benefits (of the tourism) go to the Chinese, and there’s a legitimizing effect to it.”

It is possible that China’s policy of tolerating the backpackers will be short-lived. According to one current theory, the central government in Peking has ordered regional officials in western China to get the numbers of tourists up quickly--and these regional officials are using the backpackers to meet their quotas.

A few drug arrests or other incidents unsettling to Chinese authorities, and the door may close once again. But for now, at least, the backpackers have unprecedented freedom in China.

The Jia Tsuo La Pass on the route from the Tibetan city of Xigaze to Nepal, at 17,122 feet probably the highest point on any major road between countries in the world, may seem like one of the most isolated spots in all of Asia.

Yet at the summit of the pass, one can stare across a brown, windswept, barren landscape, look down and see a lone Western woman bicycling her way toward the top.