September 15, today's destination was the famous ancient city of Gyantse. Days of good, hot sun was shining one earth, everywhere reflecting the glaring white light. Vehicles in the dusty mountain road in the running, the hot sun in the car that everyone becomes grilled squid, the sun glasses are never picked. Sharp rise in the temperature inside the vehicle, but the windows can not open, do not eat breakfast, although eating can be no one willing to swallow a stomach of sand to fill their stomachs. As usual, a very bumpy car on the road as usual, is extremely difficult to walk, lying as usual, fluctuated, altimeter's condition as usual good times and bad. Every time when he was looking strange, I know we will certainly go up, and more than 4,000 meters, while the dealers for a long time has finally flew all the way down after the altimeter brother's facial features are a gradual return to normality.
At around 10 o'clock, I left a shadow side of a stone; Bei Shang wrote: "The 318 National Highway, 5,000 km away from Shanghai People's Square." I can not help that some may feel surprised, this was the 318 national highway?
At noon, we stop in a town unknown to rest in a small town's only restaurant is a two-storey building, the boss is Sichuanese. I am reminded of the Sichuanese referred to Tibet as a colony of Sichuan, remark turned out not bad, such a backwater, where it actually has the Land of Abundance Sichuanese tirelessly to be here. The small restaurant is a strange building, I do not know what the reason, it flew around like the Leaning Tower of Pisa in general it is impossible for each meal of the people are sleepy, as if altitude sickness in general.
At 2 pm, we reached the famous holy lakes Yang Zhuo Yong wrong, narrow lake next to the sheep, gold, lake beach, covered with numerous large and small caves, which are the home of the plateau pika. I am full of curiosity lying on the ground, waiting for the emergence of those strange little things, but they never reveal even Bansi figure. From the hilltop overlooking the sheep like a green lake lying at the foot of jade-like under the quiet and charming, dignified and enchanting. And I like a black from Africa, or the countryside, farmers say, swarthy face, cheeks crimson. I am full of desire Yang Lake, eager to show appreciation for her, but she has always been dismissive to me, as always, her proud and is ice, my heart filled with sorrow.
6 pm, we arrived at Gyantse town, the sun still hung high heaven, and no work meant. Barley fields, river valley, the ancient cannons on stage everywhere speckled the golden afterglow. Qian Banye clamored to go to shoot hundreds of thousands of baiqoi monastery pagoda sunset can be when they boarded the pagoda was told not to bring the camera tower to go, I murmured secretly sneaking onto and go nobody knows the results in hit his head on the door, the threshold knock the legs from not shut up nonsense. Under the tower to get the two little monks volunteered to take us to see the local living Buddha, this is a do not see how old the old monk, speaking in Tibetan, we did not understand. Novices approached explained what he wanted, he would die one by one of our head, and poured some water pot in the palm of our hands that we drink. Hands looked dark red "holy water", the hearts can not help muttering, only one eye closed Xinyi Heng into the mouth. Then I swallowed the one known as the Buddha of light before the opening had no idea what the seeds of plants. We are in turn combined with the living Buddha of the shadow, and was told sure to send a photo to the Living Buddha. Get out of the temple, the monk told me that the Living Buddha in the blisters of the pot saffron and therefore I water color red is not, as I suspect that the kettle rusty, I have repeatedly nodded in response.
That night we stayed at a place called Wu Zi Hotel, a small hotel in, watching the World Cup qualifiers, the Chinese team won 2-0 Uzbekistan, the situation in a good outlet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . I see happiness fireworks in the distance, the moment disappeared in the horizon; snow covers the memories, love it to when you can no longer find the way
Author: sean741031
