Happy Bare Flying Baby with Bow and Arrow Day! Spread the love!

Fast forward six weeks---When planning our flights to attend PURE, Michael and I chose to fly Easyjet from Gatwick to Marrakech. Easyjet, known for its pared down service and it's menu of service fees, has garnered a loyal following. I see a place for this type of offering for a short haul, but not for a flight over 1 1/2 hours. All coach and minimal legroom are doable, but seats that don't recline at all are the deal killer for me.

We arrived in Marrakech, enduring 3+ hours of sitting "at attention", and looked for our airport butler, a service offered in some countries that help new arrivals through the immigration lines and passport control. Not spotting our name on any placard, we darted o the shortest line. We waited obediently behind the designated line and, when our turn to be submit our passports came, we promptly stepped forward.

"No!" admonished the clerk sternly while straightening her uniform, "One!" Michael stepped back and left me to fend for myself with this impersonator of Attilla the Hun. I offered my best "suck-up" smile and hoped for the best. "Flight?" barked the Grand Inquisatrix. Oh my God, I forgot to write the flight number and fear coursed through my veins. A young woman a couple of people behind Michael volunteered the number. "8855," I told the wicked Witch of Morocco. She glared at me and shoved the form and a pen towards me. I scribbled the digits where instructed and after a moment more of glaring and a loud pounding of official stamps, I was allowed entry into Marrakech. She must have found Michael more to her liking because she processed his entry card quickly.

Yes, there are Lhasa Apsos in Lhasa! A 2 1/2 hour flight from Chengdu brought us to Lhasa,Tibet - land of spirituality, kind people, warm days and crisp mountain nights, prayer flags, brightly colored Tibetan Buddhist temples, prayer wheels, incense everywhere, and quite possibly some of the best people watching I've enjoyed (equal to or better than the mountains of Peru). A long apron is a fitting adornment for a married woman, a long mane of hair circling a man's head and neatly held in place with a tassel signifies a certain tribe just as jewels woven through a woman's hairdo signifies another. (Hello, jewelry merchandisers in the US, your missing a "golden" opportunity---okay, Shelly, I heard you groan at that double entendre!)

Pilgrims trek to Lhasa all year long. They take a step, say certain prayers, prostrate themselves, get up walk the few steps to the point their fingers reached when prostrated and repeat the process. While it seemed curious and laborious, the Pilgrims unshakable faith touched my heart. Sometimes a pilgrimage could last a year two, occasionally more,one step and multiple prayers at a time.

Our address in Lhasa, the newly opened St. Regis Lhasa, the first luxury hotel to open in the region, beautifully and considerately blended into the surroundings. Impeccable service, decor that invited serenity and comfort, incredible views of the Putella, and rooms that almost anticipate your needs.

Our guide, Penpa, defied the uncomfortable and identity-stripping habit of Westernizing people's names. His name is simple. Penpa is Tibetan for Saturday, the day of the week he was born. Penpa guided us though the main temple, even leadingnus to the rooftop to enjoy the views of the Potala in the distance as well as having a bird's eye view of the shpping and bargaining below on the Barkhor surrounding the temple.

Following the temple visit, we went to the summer home of the Dali Lama (who fled Tibet in 1959 because of the long struggle between the two countries---Tibet is legally now part of China and the ever-present military strolling throughout the city is a very strong reminder of that). Outside the Summer palace was a colorful tent protecting a table dressed in fine china, crystal and silver. We were told we'd be having a picnic and, as picnics go, this was uber elegant! To our surprise and pleasure, Imperial Tours invited a well-respected monk to dine with us. He invited questions about himself, his religion and the Tibetan culture. One quickly realizes that there are never discussions about politics (in the US, political discussions are taboo in social situations, too). This gentle man, almost cuddly, often smiling and sometimes pensive offered us an opportunity to view the window to his soul, his beliefs, his philosophy of giving from a pure heart. Most of our meal seemed strange to him, salmon, wild mushrooms and asparagus, but he enjoyed the bottled water.

From summer palace to monastery, we had the good fortune to experience two events. First, we watched the monks debating. The monk who stood fired a question to the seated monk, punctuating the end of his question with a loud clap. The monastery courtyard was filled with pairs of monks verbally sparring. Then a small bell signaled an early call to prayers (due to the mid Autumn Festival). The monks moved to another end of the courtyard, sat in a three row deep circle (including a prime front row seat for a dog) and began chanting.

I must have been expecting something similar to the sounds of Adiemus, made popular some years ago in an ad for Delta Airlines. What I heard sounded joyous, upbeat. For those who remember the Dick Clark Show, it had a good beat and you could dance to it!

Michael went to the Potala  Palace without me. The many, many steps, some were ladder like, intimidated me. From his photos, it looked beautiful. One must reserve a ticket to go to the palace and the government assigns you a time. Allow at least a day ahead of your planned visit to purchase your ticket and, no, you can't order them before you arrive-no online service, no Tibetan Ticketmaster, it's a face-to-face thing.

Our last day in Lhasa held lots of sensory experiences: the Potala for the more agile of our group, a site inspection at the St Regis, probably the finest hotel I've experienced in 3 visits to this China, a visit to a nunnery where we were invited to sit and meditate while the women chanted their prayers and we lunched on the grounds of the nunnery. We split up once again, the intrepid going to hike around another monastery at 14,000 feet while the rest of us felt 12,000 feet elevation was high enough. Following the inviting call of the Tibetan Shopping Bird, we strolled the old town area-butchers hanging their fresh yak across the way from children's clothes, next to sacred figurines, next to bulk candy shops,and across from prayer flags and dried herbs.  Exotic and chaotic, the area is so much fun...and you guessed it, more priceless people watching.

Tibet has it all-mountains that pierce the clouds, breathtaking views, kind people, lots of photo ops, all wrapped in the comfort of a strong, palpable spirituality. Tibet, I would be honored to return to your mountain home. May peace be with you.