July 21st

Although I ‘vet been told more than a few times that I cannot get into the Potela Palace, I suddenly am filled with the impulse to go there. I leave the Temple, cross the large Barkhor Square and hire a rickshaw to take me there. I love this thin man’s laughter and energy as we scoot in and out of scooters and other rickshaws. I go to the ticket entrance, which is empty except for a few people now. Arriving from the airport earlier, I saw the long 4-5 hour line winding down the sidewalk. “No”, they say. “No tickets until tomorrow. Must buy ticket one day in advance”. There is a young red haired, red bearded Scottish man standing there who speaks Chinese. I tell him to please let them know I have only today. He tries to no avail. Then I see some other people buying some other type of ticket – it is for an art showing that lets you inside the palace, but only to one room. OK, I’ll take it. At least I am inside. I follow a group of about 25 people up the seemingly endless outside stairs to the top of the palace. Then, another flight of stairs – now I see they are taking tickets. I climb up and hand them my incorrect ticket, then ask for help to get the right ticket. A nice man asks me to follow him down a few stairs, around the corner to a small, enclosed booth. He walks inside, speaks to the women, I hand them my 100 Yuen and get my precious purple ticket to the palace.

Moving from one group to the next, we wind our way down the palace floors, going from one magnificent room to another. It is very different to be here. This time there is more seeing than feeling – like being in a museum.