A must-visit paradise journey — Tibet’s “Heavenly Lake” Namtso, embraced by sacred mountains

Text and photos by /Burnt-out Nurse

On this day, we set off from Lhasa and drove along National Highway 109, also known as the Qinghai-Tibet Highway, which shares fame with the Sichuan-Tibet Highway. We traveled from Lhasa at an altitude of 3,650 meters, ascending into the mountains. After crossing the 5,190-meter-high Nagela Pass, we entered Namtso Lake, nestled in the embrace of the sacred mountain Nyenchen Tanglha.

Speaking of mythology, Namtso is said to be the wife of Nyenchen Tanglha. The story goes that Nyenchen Tanglha, while working away from home, had an affair but later felt guilty and swore never to leave Namtso. He transformed into the Nyenchen Tanglha Mountain, cradling his wife like a protective embrace, guarding Namtso. This is the love story between the sacred mountain and the holy lake. It may sound a bit peculiar, but let’s just take it as a tale. In Mongolian, Namtso means "Heavenly Lake."

Namtso is considered the first holy lake in Tibet. There’s a local saying: "Circumambulate the lake in the Year of the Sheep, and the mountains in the Year of the Horse." During the Year of the Sheep, many pilgrims come to pray, even prostrating themselves along the way. The documentary "Kangrinboqe," named after the sacred mountain, captures these pilgrims as they circumambulate the mountains and lakes. The journey is not just about prayer but also about inner transformation.

Before the construction of the Sichuan-Tibet and Qinghai-Tibet highways by the People’s Liberation Army in 1954, all supplies to Tibet relied on the ancient Tea Horse Road. The opening of the Qinghai-Tibet Railway in 2006 further accelerated Tibet’s development. Traveling from Lhasa into the Nagqu region, we passed through Hoh Xil, known in Tibetan as "the beautiful woman." This area spans a triangular region across Xinjiang and Qinghai, covering one-third of Tibet’s total area but home to only 370,000 people—meaning each person has over 10,000 square kilometers to themselves. The region is home to rare animals, including the Tibetan antelope, whose lightweight and warm fur was highly sought after by wealthy women, leading to near extinction before the government intervened. Other Tibetan specialties like the precious medicinal caterpillar fungus (cordyceps) and saffron are also found here, along with wild yaks.

Because the Nagqu region produces high-quality cordyceps, typically grown at altitudes of 4,500–5,000 meters, students here even have a "cordyceps holiday" during the peak harvest season to help their families dig for the fungus. As we traveled, the landscape shifted with the altitude and terrain—from fields of highland barley and rapeseed flowers to vast grazing pastures. Endless stretches of yellow-green grasslands were dotted with yaks and sheep, though sadly, we didn’t spot the legendary Tibetan antelope.

Here, our guide posed a question: How do people in Nagqu get married? The nomadic families of Nagqu live in large black tents. When a daughter reaches marriageable age, her family sets up a small white tent next to their main dwelling, where she stays alone. In the mornings, while grazing, she sings and chats with eligible bachelors on the grasslands. If mutual affection blossoms, the man must outwit the guard dog at the entrance of the white tent to enter under the starry night sky. Over time, if the woman becomes pregnant, the man returns to her parents with gifts to propose. However, he cannot take the woman home immediately. Instead, he works for three years in her family’s home to repay their kindness before finally bringing his bride and child to his own home.

▲ How can you tell who’s wealthy in Tibet? Look at how much dried yak dung is stacked on their walls—the more dung, the more yaks, and the richer the family.

▲ You can also catch glimpses of trains along the Qinghai-Tibet Railway.

Today, we had a 520-kilometer round-trip drive. What to do on the road? Plenty. Our driver pushed forward relentlessly, but the scenery on both sides was like a series of postcards—or like living in a movie scene. Our eyes were busy, and so were our hands, snapping photos nonstop.

▲ Lunch on the road was simple. Most tour groups get pre-cooked dishes, but ours was freshly stir-fried.

▲ Finally, we arrived at the entrance of Namtso National Park, where small stalls sold highland barley cakes and boiled corn.

After relieving ourselves at the restroom near the Namtso National Park entrance, everyone took selfies and group photos. With tickets in hand, we passed through the gate and boarded the shuttle bus. There was still a long drive ahead because Namtso Lake could only be reached after crossing the 5,190-meter-high Nagela Pass. Upon arriving at the pass, someone joked, "When getting out, the skinny ones should hold onto the fat ones." Turns out, standing at 5,190 meters above sea level, the first challenge isn’t altitude sickness—it’s the wind trying to blow you away. After a quick stroll, we hurried back to the bus. The freezing cold and fierce winds left our ears in agony, so we bundled up as much as possible.

▲ Nagela Pass, 5,190 meters above sea level, with winds so strong they could knock you off balance.

▲ As we descended from Nagela Pass and approached Namtso Lake, hailstones the size of 2-centimeter marbles began to fall, proving once again that "in one mountain, there are four seasons; within ten miles, the weather changes."

▲ The lake water, bluer than the sky, is Namtso.

"You are in paradise—cherish everything here." That’s the sign by Namtso Lake. We stayed for an hour and a half, giving everyone time to walk around the lake. Aside from the vendors, there’s also a post office here. Some travelers chose to send postcards to loved ones from Namtso, at 4,718 meters above sea level. But ultimately, it’s the thought that counts, so we took our time exploring. By the lake, there were also white yaks available for photos—symbols of auspiciousness and divinity. Riding one felt like mounting a sacred steed by the holy lake. Some said it made them feel like warriors in a tribal battle, while others joked, "So this is what heaven’s creatures look like."

▲ Postcards and stamps are available for purchase.

▲ Beware of locals who might claim you photographed their sheep and demand payment.

▲ White yaks really do look like creatures from heaven.

▲ The seagulls here aren’t afraid of people.

Leaving the "sacred steed" area and walking further, we saw the lake’s water turn into a deep azure, competing with the sky. As the largest saltwater lake, the waves lapping against the shore resembled a seaside scene. We sat by the lake, watching the time tick by, quietly observing the layers of white foam crashing ashore and the seagulls soaring overhead. I’m no lama performing rituals to divine the lake’s reflections, but I am a traveler who treasures moments of stillness.

▲ What the naked eye can see is only a part of Namtso.

▲ Bull skulls, mani stone piles, and prayer flags—offerings for blessings are everywhere by the holy lake.

▲ The Prayer Stone Clasp.

Walking past this row of prayer wheels leads back to the parking lot.

On the way back to Lhasa, the scenery shifted—but the endless grasslands and natural beauty remained. Looking back from a high point, Namtso’s deep blue shimmered like tears of farewell, glimmering in the valley.

▲ A view of the winding mountain road.

It has no name—just a small stream formed by melting snow.

The annual horse racing grounds in the Nagqu region.

Back in Lhasa, we had a simple meal.

This day involved 12 hours of non-stop driving—a duration that, on a lazy day, might just be a long nap. But in Tibet, traveling westward through plains, pastures, and finally to the heavenly lake, all in one day, was a journey worth a lifetime.

We are Burnt-out Nurse “Meatball” & “Bowl | Junbao”… We met online and instantly hit it off. We hope to share with everyone the unique culture, atmosphere, and local cuisine of Tibet, as well as the stories behind the landscapes. We hope you’ll cherish the memories.
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