It all started with a simple dream: to see the land where mountains touch the sky and ancient traditions still shape everyday life. Travel from Belgium to Tibet—a country of flat landscapes and medieval towns—the idea of traveling to China and Tibet felt like stepping into another world.
First Impressions of China
I arrived in China full of curiosity and a touch of nervous excitement. My first stop was Beijing, where the pace of life was both fast and orderly. Walking through the Forbidden City, I couldn’t help but imagine the emperors, warriors, and scholars who once roamed those red-walled courtyards. The energy of modern China was everywhere—on the buzzing subways, in the endless skyscrapers, in the lively conversations at street food stalls.
From there, I traveled to Xi’an, where I saw the famous Terracotta Army. It was awe-inspiring, but what moved me even more were the quiet backstreets, the smell of steamed dumplings in the air, and the smiles of local vendors who welcomed me with warm curiosity.
Heading West: Into the Tibetan World
Then came the part of the trip I had dreamed about for years—Tibet. I boarded a train bound for Lhasa, the capital of the Tibetan Autonomous Region. The journey was long, crossing vast grasslands and rising slowly into the high altitude. But the view from the window was unforgettable—blue skies, snow peaks, and occasional herds of yaks grazing on open plains.
Arriving in Lhasa felt like stepping into another dimension. The light was brighter, the air thinner, and time seemed to slow down. I could feel the spiritual atmosphere everywhere—pilgrims circling the Jokhang Temple, spinning prayer wheels, and murmuring mantras with quiet devotion.
Life and Culture on the Roof of the World
Tibetan culture touched me in a way I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just the monasteries or the traditional dress—it was the calm, the warmth of the people, and the deep sense of connection to nature. I shared meals with locals, drank salty butter tea, and even learned to make tsampa, the roasted barley flour that fuels life on the plateau.
One of the most memorable moments was watching monks debate philosophy in a monastery courtyard, their gestures bold and passionate. Another was visiting a remote village where children ran barefoot, herders waved from afar, and the silence of the mountains felt sacred.
Every night, as I lay under thick blankets, I could hear the wind moving over the rooftops. It felt ancient, like the land was telling stories in a language beyond words.
Traveling from Belgium to China and Tibet taught me more than I expected. I saw the contrast between two worlds—one urban and dynamic, the other timeless and spiritual. And somewhere along the journey, I changed too.
I learned patience in train stations, humility at 3,600 meters above sea level, and joy in the smallest moments—like sharing a simple noodle soup in a Tibetan teahouse.
This wasn’t just a trip. It was a meeting of cultures, a personal discovery, and a quiet reminder that the world is wide, rich, and waiting—always waiting—for us to explore with open hearts.