NCERT Textbook - Silk Road | English Class 11 PDF Download

 Page 1


6  Silk Road
Nick Middleton
Notice these expressions in the text.
Infer their meaning from the context.
?? ducking back ?? swathe ?? careered down
?? manoeuvres ?? cairn of rocks ?? salt flats      	
?? billowed 	
A fl Awless half-moon floated in a perfect blue sky on the morning we 
said our goodbyes. Extended banks of cloud like long French loaves 
glowed pink as the sun emerged to splash the distant mountain tops 
with a rose-tinted blush. Now that we were leaving Ravu, Lhamo said 
she wanted to give me a farewell present. One evening I’d told her 
through Daniel that I was heading towards Mount Kailash to complete 
the kora, and she’d said that I ought to get some warmer clothes. After 
ducking back into her tent, she emerged carrying one of the long-
sleeved sheepskin coats that all the men wore. Tsetan sized me up as 
we clambered into his car. “Ah, yes,” he declared, “drokba, sir.”
We took a short cut to get off the Changtang. Tsetan knew a route 
that would take us south-west, almost directly towards Mount Kailash. 
It involved crossing several fairly high mountain passes, he said. “But 
no problem, sir”, he assured us, “if there is no snow.” What was the 
likelihood of that I asked. “Not knowing, sir, until we get there.”
From the gently rolling hills of Ravu, the short cut took us across 
vast open plains with nothing in them except a few gazelles that would 
look up from nibbling the arid pastures and frown before bounding 
away into the void. Further on, where the plains became more stony 
than grassy, a great herd of wild ass came into view. Tsetan told us we 
Chap 6.indd   57 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
Page 2


6  Silk Road
Nick Middleton
Notice these expressions in the text.
Infer their meaning from the context.
?? ducking back ?? swathe ?? careered down
?? manoeuvres ?? cairn of rocks ?? salt flats      	
?? billowed 	
A fl Awless half-moon floated in a perfect blue sky on the morning we 
said our goodbyes. Extended banks of cloud like long French loaves 
glowed pink as the sun emerged to splash the distant mountain tops 
with a rose-tinted blush. Now that we were leaving Ravu, Lhamo said 
she wanted to give me a farewell present. One evening I’d told her 
through Daniel that I was heading towards Mount Kailash to complete 
the kora, and she’d said that I ought to get some warmer clothes. After 
ducking back into her tent, she emerged carrying one of the long-
sleeved sheepskin coats that all the men wore. Tsetan sized me up as 
we clambered into his car. “Ah, yes,” he declared, “drokba, sir.”
We took a short cut to get off the Changtang. Tsetan knew a route 
that would take us south-west, almost directly towards Mount Kailash. 
It involved crossing several fairly high mountain passes, he said. “But 
no problem, sir”, he assured us, “if there is no snow.” What was the 
likelihood of that I asked. “Not knowing, sir, until we get there.”
From the gently rolling hills of Ravu, the short cut took us across 
vast open plains with nothing in them except a few gazelles that would 
look up from nibbling the arid pastures and frown before bounding 
away into the void. Further on, where the plains became more stony 
than grassy, a great herd of wild ass came into view. Tsetan told us we 
Chap 6.indd   57 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
58 Hornbill were approaching them long before they appeared. “Kyang,” he said, 
pointing towards a far-off pall of dust. When we drew near, I could see 
the herd galloping en masse, wheeling and turning in tight formation 
as if they were practising manoeuvres on some predetermined course. 
Plumes of dust billowed into the crisp, clean air.
As hills started to push up once more from the rocky wilderness, 
we passed solitary drokbas tending their flocks. Sometimes men, 
sometimes women, these well-wrapped figures would pause and stare 
at our car, occasionally waving as we passed. When the track took us 
close to their animals, the sheep would take evasive action, veering 
away from the speeding vehicle.
We passed nomads’ dark tents pitched in splendid isolation, usually 
with a huge black dog, a Tibetan mastiff, standing guard. These beasts 
would cock their great big heads when they became aware of our 
approach and fix us in their sights. As we continued to draw closer, 
they would explode into action, speeding directly towards us, like a 
bullet from a gun and nearly as fast.
These shaggy monsters, blacker than the darkest night, usually 
wore bright red collars and barked furiously with massive jaws. They 
were completely fearless of our vehicle, shooting straight into our path, 
causing Tsetan to brake and swerve. The dog would make chase for a 
hundred metres or so before easing off, having seen us off the property. 
It wasn’t difficult to understand why ferocious Tibetan mastiffs became 
Sketch of Mount Kailash
Chap 6.indd   58 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
Page 3


6  Silk Road
Nick Middleton
Notice these expressions in the text.
Infer their meaning from the context.
?? ducking back ?? swathe ?? careered down
?? manoeuvres ?? cairn of rocks ?? salt flats      	
?? billowed 	
A fl Awless half-moon floated in a perfect blue sky on the morning we 
said our goodbyes. Extended banks of cloud like long French loaves 
glowed pink as the sun emerged to splash the distant mountain tops 
with a rose-tinted blush. Now that we were leaving Ravu, Lhamo said 
she wanted to give me a farewell present. One evening I’d told her 
through Daniel that I was heading towards Mount Kailash to complete 
the kora, and she’d said that I ought to get some warmer clothes. After 
ducking back into her tent, she emerged carrying one of the long-
sleeved sheepskin coats that all the men wore. Tsetan sized me up as 
we clambered into his car. “Ah, yes,” he declared, “drokba, sir.”
We took a short cut to get off the Changtang. Tsetan knew a route 
that would take us south-west, almost directly towards Mount Kailash. 
It involved crossing several fairly high mountain passes, he said. “But 
no problem, sir”, he assured us, “if there is no snow.” What was the 
likelihood of that I asked. “Not knowing, sir, until we get there.”
From the gently rolling hills of Ravu, the short cut took us across 
vast open plains with nothing in them except a few gazelles that would 
look up from nibbling the arid pastures and frown before bounding 
away into the void. Further on, where the plains became more stony 
than grassy, a great herd of wild ass came into view. Tsetan told us we 
Chap 6.indd   57 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
58 Hornbill were approaching them long before they appeared. “Kyang,” he said, 
pointing towards a far-off pall of dust. When we drew near, I could see 
the herd galloping en masse, wheeling and turning in tight formation 
as if they were practising manoeuvres on some predetermined course. 
Plumes of dust billowed into the crisp, clean air.
As hills started to push up once more from the rocky wilderness, 
we passed solitary drokbas tending their flocks. Sometimes men, 
sometimes women, these well-wrapped figures would pause and stare 
at our car, occasionally waving as we passed. When the track took us 
close to their animals, the sheep would take evasive action, veering 
away from the speeding vehicle.
We passed nomads’ dark tents pitched in splendid isolation, usually 
with a huge black dog, a Tibetan mastiff, standing guard. These beasts 
would cock their great big heads when they became aware of our 
approach and fix us in their sights. As we continued to draw closer, 
they would explode into action, speeding directly towards us, like a 
bullet from a gun and nearly as fast.
These shaggy monsters, blacker than the darkest night, usually 
wore bright red collars and barked furiously with massive jaws. They 
were completely fearless of our vehicle, shooting straight into our path, 
causing Tsetan to brake and swerve. The dog would make chase for a 
hundred metres or so before easing off, having seen us off the property. 
It wasn’t difficult to understand why ferocious Tibetan mastiffs became 
Sketch of Mount Kailash
Chap 6.indd   58 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
s ilk r o Ad 59
popular in China’s imperial courts as hunting dogs, brought along the 
Silk Road in ancient times as tribute from Tibet.
By now we could see snow-capped mountains gathering on the 
horizon. We entered a valley where the river was wide and mostly 
clogged with ice, brilliant white and glinting in the sunshine. The trail 
hugged its bank, twisting with the meanders as we gradually gained 
height and the valley sides closed in.
The turns became sharper and the ride bumpier, Tsetan now in 
third gear as we continued to climb. The track moved away from the 
icy river, labouring through steeper slopes that sported big rocks 
daubed with patches of bright orange lichen. Beneath the rocks, 
hunks of snow clung on in the near-permanent shade. I felt the 
pressure building up in my ears, held my nose, snorted and cleared 
them. We struggled round another tight bend and Tsetan stopped. 
He had opened his door and jumped out of his seat before I realised 
what was going on. “Snow,” said Daniel as he too exited the vehicle, 
letting in a breath of cold air as he did so.
A swathe of the white stuff lay across the track in front of us, 
stretching for maybe fifteen metres before it petered out and the dirt 
trail reappeared. The snow continued on either side of us, smoothing 
the abrupt bank on the upslope side. The bank was too steep for our 
vehicle to scale, so there was no way round the snow patch. I joined 
Daniel as Tsetan stepped on to the encrusted snow and began to slither 
and slide forward, stamping his foot from time to time to ascertain 
how sturdy it was. I looked at my wristwatch. We were at 5,210 metres 
above sea level.
The snow didn’t look too deep to me, but the danger wasn’t its 
depth, Daniel said, so much as its icy top layer. “If we slip off, the 
car could turn over,” he suggested, as we saw Tsetan grab handfuls 
of dirt and fling them across the frozen surface. We both pitched in 
and, when the snow was spread with soil, Daniel and I stayed out of 
the vehicle to lighten Tsetan’s load. He backed up and drove towards 
the dirty snow, eased the car on to its icy surface and slowly drove its 
length without apparent difficulty.
Ten minutes later, we stopped at another blockage. “Not good, sir,” 
Tsetan announced as he jumped out again to survey the scene. This 
time he decided to try and drive round the snow. The slope was steep 
and studded with major rocks, but somehow Tsetan negotiated them, 
his four-wheel drive vehicle lurching from one obstacle to the next. In 
so doing he cut off one of the hairpin bends, regaining the trail further 
up where the snow had not drifted.
Chap 6.indd   59 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
Page 4


6  Silk Road
Nick Middleton
Notice these expressions in the text.
Infer their meaning from the context.
?? ducking back ?? swathe ?? careered down
?? manoeuvres ?? cairn of rocks ?? salt flats      	
?? billowed 	
A fl Awless half-moon floated in a perfect blue sky on the morning we 
said our goodbyes. Extended banks of cloud like long French loaves 
glowed pink as the sun emerged to splash the distant mountain tops 
with a rose-tinted blush. Now that we were leaving Ravu, Lhamo said 
she wanted to give me a farewell present. One evening I’d told her 
through Daniel that I was heading towards Mount Kailash to complete 
the kora, and she’d said that I ought to get some warmer clothes. After 
ducking back into her tent, she emerged carrying one of the long-
sleeved sheepskin coats that all the men wore. Tsetan sized me up as 
we clambered into his car. “Ah, yes,” he declared, “drokba, sir.”
We took a short cut to get off the Changtang. Tsetan knew a route 
that would take us south-west, almost directly towards Mount Kailash. 
It involved crossing several fairly high mountain passes, he said. “But 
no problem, sir”, he assured us, “if there is no snow.” What was the 
likelihood of that I asked. “Not knowing, sir, until we get there.”
From the gently rolling hills of Ravu, the short cut took us across 
vast open plains with nothing in them except a few gazelles that would 
look up from nibbling the arid pastures and frown before bounding 
away into the void. Further on, where the plains became more stony 
than grassy, a great herd of wild ass came into view. Tsetan told us we 
Chap 6.indd   57 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
58 Hornbill were approaching them long before they appeared. “Kyang,” he said, 
pointing towards a far-off pall of dust. When we drew near, I could see 
the herd galloping en masse, wheeling and turning in tight formation 
as if they were practising manoeuvres on some predetermined course. 
Plumes of dust billowed into the crisp, clean air.
As hills started to push up once more from the rocky wilderness, 
we passed solitary drokbas tending their flocks. Sometimes men, 
sometimes women, these well-wrapped figures would pause and stare 
at our car, occasionally waving as we passed. When the track took us 
close to their animals, the sheep would take evasive action, veering 
away from the speeding vehicle.
We passed nomads’ dark tents pitched in splendid isolation, usually 
with a huge black dog, a Tibetan mastiff, standing guard. These beasts 
would cock their great big heads when they became aware of our 
approach and fix us in their sights. As we continued to draw closer, 
they would explode into action, speeding directly towards us, like a 
bullet from a gun and nearly as fast.
These shaggy monsters, blacker than the darkest night, usually 
wore bright red collars and barked furiously with massive jaws. They 
were completely fearless of our vehicle, shooting straight into our path, 
causing Tsetan to brake and swerve. The dog would make chase for a 
hundred metres or so before easing off, having seen us off the property. 
It wasn’t difficult to understand why ferocious Tibetan mastiffs became 
Sketch of Mount Kailash
Chap 6.indd   58 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
s ilk r o Ad 59
popular in China’s imperial courts as hunting dogs, brought along the 
Silk Road in ancient times as tribute from Tibet.
By now we could see snow-capped mountains gathering on the 
horizon. We entered a valley where the river was wide and mostly 
clogged with ice, brilliant white and glinting in the sunshine. The trail 
hugged its bank, twisting with the meanders as we gradually gained 
height and the valley sides closed in.
The turns became sharper and the ride bumpier, Tsetan now in 
third gear as we continued to climb. The track moved away from the 
icy river, labouring through steeper slopes that sported big rocks 
daubed with patches of bright orange lichen. Beneath the rocks, 
hunks of snow clung on in the near-permanent shade. I felt the 
pressure building up in my ears, held my nose, snorted and cleared 
them. We struggled round another tight bend and Tsetan stopped. 
He had opened his door and jumped out of his seat before I realised 
what was going on. “Snow,” said Daniel as he too exited the vehicle, 
letting in a breath of cold air as he did so.
A swathe of the white stuff lay across the track in front of us, 
stretching for maybe fifteen metres before it petered out and the dirt 
trail reappeared. The snow continued on either side of us, smoothing 
the abrupt bank on the upslope side. The bank was too steep for our 
vehicle to scale, so there was no way round the snow patch. I joined 
Daniel as Tsetan stepped on to the encrusted snow and began to slither 
and slide forward, stamping his foot from time to time to ascertain 
how sturdy it was. I looked at my wristwatch. We were at 5,210 metres 
above sea level.
The snow didn’t look too deep to me, but the danger wasn’t its 
depth, Daniel said, so much as its icy top layer. “If we slip off, the 
car could turn over,” he suggested, as we saw Tsetan grab handfuls 
of dirt and fling them across the frozen surface. We both pitched in 
and, when the snow was spread with soil, Daniel and I stayed out of 
the vehicle to lighten Tsetan’s load. He backed up and drove towards 
the dirty snow, eased the car on to its icy surface and slowly drove its 
length without apparent difficulty.
Ten minutes later, we stopped at another blockage. “Not good, sir,” 
Tsetan announced as he jumped out again to survey the scene. This 
time he decided to try and drive round the snow. The slope was steep 
and studded with major rocks, but somehow Tsetan negotiated them, 
his four-wheel drive vehicle lurching from one obstacle to the next. In 
so doing he cut off one of the hairpin bends, regaining the trail further 
up where the snow had not drifted.
Chap 6.indd   59 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
60 Hornbill I checked my watch again as we continued to climb in the bright 
sunshine. We crept past 5,400 metres and my head began to throb 
horribly. I took gulps from my water bottle, which is supposed to help 
a rapid ascent.
We finally reached the top of the pass at 5,515 metres. It was marked 
by a large cairn of rocks festooned with white silk scarves and ragged 
prayer flags. We all took a turn round the cairn, in a clockwise direction 
as is the tradition, and Tsetan checked the tyres on his vehicle. He 
stopped at the petrol tank and partially unscrewed the top, which 
emitted a loud hiss. The lower atmospheric pressure was allowing 
the fuel to expand. It sounded dangerous to me. “Maybe, sir,” Tsetan 
laughed “but no smoking.”
My headache soon cleared as we careered down the other side 
of the pass. It was two o’clock by the time we stopped for lunch. We 
ate hot noodles inside a long canvas tent, part of a workcamp erected 
beside a dry salt lake. The plateau is pockmarked with salt flats and 
brackish lakes, vestiges of the Tethys Ocean which bordered Tibet 
before the great continental collision that lifted it skyward. This one 
was a hive of activity, men with pickaxes and shovels trudging back 
and forth in their long sheepskin coats and salt-encrusted boots. All 
wore sunglasses against the glare as a steady stream of blue trucks 
emerged from the blindingly white lake laden with piles of salt.
By late afternoon we had reached the small town of Hor, back on the 
main east-west highway that followed the old trade route from Lhasa to 
Kashmir. Daniel, who was returning to Lhasa, found a ride in a truck 
so Tsetan and I bade him farewell outside a tyre-repair shop. We had 
suffered two punctures in quick succession on the drive down from 
the salt lake and Tsetan was eager to have them fixed since they left 
him with no spares. Besides, the second tyre he’d changed had been 
replaced by one that was as smooth as my bald head.
Hor was a grim, miserable place. There was no vegetation 
whatsoever, just dust and rocks, liberally scattered with years of 
accumulated refuse, which was unfortunate given that the town sat 
on the shore of Lake Manasarovar, Tibet’s most venerated stretch of 
water. Ancient Hindu and Buddhist cosmology pinpoints Manasarovar 
as the source of four great Indian rivers: the Indus, the Ganges, the 
Sutlej and the Brahmaputra. Actually only the Sutlej flows from the 
lake, but the headwaters of the others all rise nearby on the flanks of 
Mount Kailash. We were within striking distance of the great mountain 
and I was eager to forge ahead.
Chap 6.indd   60 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
Page 5


6  Silk Road
Nick Middleton
Notice these expressions in the text.
Infer their meaning from the context.
?? ducking back ?? swathe ?? careered down
?? manoeuvres ?? cairn of rocks ?? salt flats      	
?? billowed 	
A fl Awless half-moon floated in a perfect blue sky on the morning we 
said our goodbyes. Extended banks of cloud like long French loaves 
glowed pink as the sun emerged to splash the distant mountain tops 
with a rose-tinted blush. Now that we were leaving Ravu, Lhamo said 
she wanted to give me a farewell present. One evening I’d told her 
through Daniel that I was heading towards Mount Kailash to complete 
the kora, and she’d said that I ought to get some warmer clothes. After 
ducking back into her tent, she emerged carrying one of the long-
sleeved sheepskin coats that all the men wore. Tsetan sized me up as 
we clambered into his car. “Ah, yes,” he declared, “drokba, sir.”
We took a short cut to get off the Changtang. Tsetan knew a route 
that would take us south-west, almost directly towards Mount Kailash. 
It involved crossing several fairly high mountain passes, he said. “But 
no problem, sir”, he assured us, “if there is no snow.” What was the 
likelihood of that I asked. “Not knowing, sir, until we get there.”
From the gently rolling hills of Ravu, the short cut took us across 
vast open plains with nothing in them except a few gazelles that would 
look up from nibbling the arid pastures and frown before bounding 
away into the void. Further on, where the plains became more stony 
than grassy, a great herd of wild ass came into view. Tsetan told us we 
Chap 6.indd   57 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
58 Hornbill were approaching them long before they appeared. “Kyang,” he said, 
pointing towards a far-off pall of dust. When we drew near, I could see 
the herd galloping en masse, wheeling and turning in tight formation 
as if they were practising manoeuvres on some predetermined course. 
Plumes of dust billowed into the crisp, clean air.
As hills started to push up once more from the rocky wilderness, 
we passed solitary drokbas tending their flocks. Sometimes men, 
sometimes women, these well-wrapped figures would pause and stare 
at our car, occasionally waving as we passed. When the track took us 
close to their animals, the sheep would take evasive action, veering 
away from the speeding vehicle.
We passed nomads’ dark tents pitched in splendid isolation, usually 
with a huge black dog, a Tibetan mastiff, standing guard. These beasts 
would cock their great big heads when they became aware of our 
approach and fix us in their sights. As we continued to draw closer, 
they would explode into action, speeding directly towards us, like a 
bullet from a gun and nearly as fast.
These shaggy monsters, blacker than the darkest night, usually 
wore bright red collars and barked furiously with massive jaws. They 
were completely fearless of our vehicle, shooting straight into our path, 
causing Tsetan to brake and swerve. The dog would make chase for a 
hundred metres or so before easing off, having seen us off the property. 
It wasn’t difficult to understand why ferocious Tibetan mastiffs became 
Sketch of Mount Kailash
Chap 6.indd   58 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
s ilk r o Ad 59
popular in China’s imperial courts as hunting dogs, brought along the 
Silk Road in ancient times as tribute from Tibet.
By now we could see snow-capped mountains gathering on the 
horizon. We entered a valley where the river was wide and mostly 
clogged with ice, brilliant white and glinting in the sunshine. The trail 
hugged its bank, twisting with the meanders as we gradually gained 
height and the valley sides closed in.
The turns became sharper and the ride bumpier, Tsetan now in 
third gear as we continued to climb. The track moved away from the 
icy river, labouring through steeper slopes that sported big rocks 
daubed with patches of bright orange lichen. Beneath the rocks, 
hunks of snow clung on in the near-permanent shade. I felt the 
pressure building up in my ears, held my nose, snorted and cleared 
them. We struggled round another tight bend and Tsetan stopped. 
He had opened his door and jumped out of his seat before I realised 
what was going on. “Snow,” said Daniel as he too exited the vehicle, 
letting in a breath of cold air as he did so.
A swathe of the white stuff lay across the track in front of us, 
stretching for maybe fifteen metres before it petered out and the dirt 
trail reappeared. The snow continued on either side of us, smoothing 
the abrupt bank on the upslope side. The bank was too steep for our 
vehicle to scale, so there was no way round the snow patch. I joined 
Daniel as Tsetan stepped on to the encrusted snow and began to slither 
and slide forward, stamping his foot from time to time to ascertain 
how sturdy it was. I looked at my wristwatch. We were at 5,210 metres 
above sea level.
The snow didn’t look too deep to me, but the danger wasn’t its 
depth, Daniel said, so much as its icy top layer. “If we slip off, the 
car could turn over,” he suggested, as we saw Tsetan grab handfuls 
of dirt and fling them across the frozen surface. We both pitched in 
and, when the snow was spread with soil, Daniel and I stayed out of 
the vehicle to lighten Tsetan’s load. He backed up and drove towards 
the dirty snow, eased the car on to its icy surface and slowly drove its 
length without apparent difficulty.
Ten minutes later, we stopped at another blockage. “Not good, sir,” 
Tsetan announced as he jumped out again to survey the scene. This 
time he decided to try and drive round the snow. The slope was steep 
and studded with major rocks, but somehow Tsetan negotiated them, 
his four-wheel drive vehicle lurching from one obstacle to the next. In 
so doing he cut off one of the hairpin bends, regaining the trail further 
up where the snow had not drifted.
Chap 6.indd   59 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
60 Hornbill I checked my watch again as we continued to climb in the bright 
sunshine. We crept past 5,400 metres and my head began to throb 
horribly. I took gulps from my water bottle, which is supposed to help 
a rapid ascent.
We finally reached the top of the pass at 5,515 metres. It was marked 
by a large cairn of rocks festooned with white silk scarves and ragged 
prayer flags. We all took a turn round the cairn, in a clockwise direction 
as is the tradition, and Tsetan checked the tyres on his vehicle. He 
stopped at the petrol tank and partially unscrewed the top, which 
emitted a loud hiss. The lower atmospheric pressure was allowing 
the fuel to expand. It sounded dangerous to me. “Maybe, sir,” Tsetan 
laughed “but no smoking.”
My headache soon cleared as we careered down the other side 
of the pass. It was two o’clock by the time we stopped for lunch. We 
ate hot noodles inside a long canvas tent, part of a workcamp erected 
beside a dry salt lake. The plateau is pockmarked with salt flats and 
brackish lakes, vestiges of the Tethys Ocean which bordered Tibet 
before the great continental collision that lifted it skyward. This one 
was a hive of activity, men with pickaxes and shovels trudging back 
and forth in their long sheepskin coats and salt-encrusted boots. All 
wore sunglasses against the glare as a steady stream of blue trucks 
emerged from the blindingly white lake laden with piles of salt.
By late afternoon we had reached the small town of Hor, back on the 
main east-west highway that followed the old trade route from Lhasa to 
Kashmir. Daniel, who was returning to Lhasa, found a ride in a truck 
so Tsetan and I bade him farewell outside a tyre-repair shop. We had 
suffered two punctures in quick succession on the drive down from 
the salt lake and Tsetan was eager to have them fixed since they left 
him with no spares. Besides, the second tyre he’d changed had been 
replaced by one that was as smooth as my bald head.
Hor was a grim, miserable place. There was no vegetation 
whatsoever, just dust and rocks, liberally scattered with years of 
accumulated refuse, which was unfortunate given that the town sat 
on the shore of Lake Manasarovar, Tibet’s most venerated stretch of 
water. Ancient Hindu and Buddhist cosmology pinpoints Manasarovar 
as the source of four great Indian rivers: the Indus, the Ganges, the 
Sutlej and the Brahmaputra. Actually only the Sutlej flows from the 
lake, but the headwaters of the others all rise nearby on the flanks of 
Mount Kailash. We were within striking distance of the great mountain 
and I was eager to forge ahead.
Chap 6.indd   60 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26
s ilk r o Ad 61
But I had to wait. Tsetan told me to go and drink some tea in Hor’s 
only cafe which, like all the other buildings in town, was constructed 
from badly painted concrete and had three broken windows. The good 
view of the lake through one of them helped to compensate for the 
draught.
I was served by a Chinese youth in military uniform who spread 
the grease around on my table with a filthy rag before bringing me a 
glass and a thermos of tea. 
Half an hour later, Tsetan relieved me from my solitary confinement 
and we drove past a lot more rocks and rubbish westwards out of town 
towards Mount Kailash.
My experience in Hor came as a stark contrast to accounts I’d read 
of earlier travellers’ first encounters with Lake Manasarovar. Ekai 
Kawaguchi, a Japanese monk who had arrived there in 1900, was so 
moved by the sanctity of the lake that he burst into tears. A couple of 
years later, the hallowed waters had a similar effect on Sven Hedin, a 
Swede who wasn’t prone to sentimental outbursts.
It was dark by the time we finally left again and after 10.30 p.m. 
we drew up outside a guest house in Darchen for what turned out to 
be another troubled night. Kicking around in the open-air rubbish 
dump that passed for the town of Hor had set off my cold once more, 
though if truth be told it had never quite disappeared with my herbal 
tea. One of my nostrils was blocked again and as I lay down to sleep, 
I wasn’t convinced that the other would provide me with sufficient 
oxygen. My watch told me I was at 4,760 metres. It wasn’t much higher 
than Ravu, and there I’d been gasping for oxygen several times every 
night. I’d grown accustomed to these nocturnal disturbances by now, 
but they still scared me.
Tired and hungry, I started breathing through my mouth. After 
a while, I switched to single-nostril power which seemed to be 
admitting enough oxygen but, just as I was drifting off, I woke up 
abruptly. Something was wrong. My chest felt strangely heavy and I 
sat up, a movement that cleared my nasal passages almost instantly 
and relieved the feeling in my chest. Curious, I thought.
I lay back down and tried again. Same result. I was on the point 
of disappearing into the land of nod when something told me not to. 
It must have been those emergency electrical impulses again, but 
this was not the same as on previous occasions. This time, I wasn’t 
gasping for breath, I was simply not allowed to go to sleep.
Chap 6.indd   61 12/6/2024   11:40:18 AM
Reprint 2025-26