It was a two-day train trip to Lhasa. Tight quarters on the train caused claustrophobic feelings that were slightly assuaged by expansive blue skies and dusty mountains in the distance. As the altitude increased, so did our anticipation...
Brightly painted window sills and prayer flags underscore a blue, moon-spotted evening sky.
Every night we would circumambulate the Jokhang, the holiest temple in Lhasa. Golden spires and flag-covered pillars guided us along the route with hundreds of other pilgrims.
Circumambulating in the shadows (of immense mountains and precarious politics).
Bill blends in with the monks at Sera monastery.
Nut vendors wheeled their rainbow carts down every alley and side-street. We were wary of their wares, but enjoyed their colorful displays.
The white palace and the red palace of the Potala stretch out in the distance.
Spinning an endless trail of prayer wheels, which send merit and goodwill into the wind.
At Yumbulakhang, the oldest building in Tibet, Bill and I contribute our own splash of color to the mountains pulsating palate.
We ended the trip at a mountaintop monastery.
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