The Potala's impressive facade has been the object of travelers' journeys for centuries, and for me it was no different. Having read about its imposing presence over the valley in which Lhasa exists, it was if everyone in the city could point in its direction-- blindfolded and dizzy, even.

I found the interior an unfortunately empty place--"empty" meaning devoid of the day-to-day furnishings of the people who no longer lived there as well as spiritually void. The fact that there were PLA soldiers (Peoples' Liberation Army) as guides and oppressors with us at every step could have even been overlooked except that in as fervent as they were about preventing us from touching anything, they were equally as apathetic about their own cadre opening drawers, tinkling bells, and touching the delicately painted walls. We were rushed around and back on the street in about 2 hours when 4 to 5 wouldn't have given an interested person enough satisfaction.

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