A Passage to India Himalaya with Michael Palin

I'm flying into this majestic world of rock and ice in a military helicopter.

Why military? Because this jagged valley is on the border

between two of the Himalayas' most quarrelsome neighbours, India and Pakistan.

With supreme irony, they call this place Concordia.

It's a beautiful but harsh land which you enter at your peril.

Oops! See what I mean?

I'm at 14,500 feet in the heart of the Karakorum Mountains,

and if anywhere deserves to be called the Hall of the Mountain Kings, this is it.

Clustered around me are 10 of the world's 30 highest peaks,

dominated by K2, the second-highest mountain in the world.

It's known as the killer mountain, the savage mountain, and it's a much harder climb than Everest.

But it's not just natural splendour here - there's human drama as well.

Over there to the east, the Indian and Pakistan armies face each other

in a high altitude stand-off in these ice-bound conditions.

It's scarcely believable that two oxygen-starved armies eyeball one another down there

with only a UN line of control to keep them apart.

What this means for me is that I can't cross from Pakistan to India through the mountains.

Instead, I must make a detour to the official crossing point on the border, near the city of Lahore.

Lahore is an often beautiful, always busy city, proud of its military and literary traditions.

You may not think so from its location, but this is one of the most important objects in Lahore -

Zam-Zammah, the great cannon, or the fire-breathing dragon,

was first fired in anger about 250 years ago,

and they say that who holds the cannon holds the Punjab,

which may account for why it appears as the first sentence of the first chapter of Rudyard Kipling's Kim.

"He sat, in defiance of municipal orders, astride the gun Zam-Zammah."

This is the gun that Rudyard Kipling's Kim sat astride.

Oh, it's bloody hot this afternoon, I tell you.

The Mughals, who came from Central Asia 600 years ago,

left an elegant mark on Lahore.

The Shalimar Gardens, created by the man who built the Taj Mahal.

The Badshahi Mosque, whose courtyard can hold 60,000 worshippers.

And in Lahore Fort, the exquisite Palace of Mirrors.

They say it was here that Emperor Akbar caught his favourite courtesan

exchanging a glance with his son.

True to the Mughal image of good taste and bad temper,

he had her walled up - alive.

Our penultimate day in Pakistan, and I'm looking across the border at India.

Here at a place called Wagah, the old military ceremony of lowering the flag

has been turned into entertainment.

The partition of India in 1947 was traumatic.

Nearly a million were killed in sectarian fury as the two new nations were born.

Nearly 60 years later, the old aggression has been channelled into a largely good-natured ritual.

HE PLAYS HORN

Crowds can root for their country, whilst guardsmen, using their bodies rather than weapons,

lay on a display of carefully-choreographed contempt.

CROWD CHANTS AND CHEERS

This is chauvinism at its most camp.

The Pakistan Rangers put on a masterly demonstration

of how angry you can get without hitting anyone.

As the moment of flag lowering grows closer, the crowd's excitement grows more vocal.

CHANTS AND JEERS

National passions are further inflamed by a display of precision nastiness

in which thumbs are used to terrifying effect.

CROWD CHEERS LOUDLY

Now the moment they've all been waiting for.

The guards, fans sprouting from their turbans like raised hackles,

measure out the lengths of rope.

And they must get it absolutely spot-on,

so that the tricolour of secular India

and the crescent moon of Muslim Pakistan descend at exactly the same time.

Despite the show of bellicosity, this is in fact a combined operation,

with both sides working together to make it run like clockwork.

It ends with a flourish, a quadrille of stamping soldiers,

the briefest of handshakes. The border between India and Pakistan is sealed.

Job done.

Next morning, the crowds of spectators are gone,

to be replaced by a crowd of porters - 22 in fact,

who earn a day's wages carrying our 40-odd pieces of equipment up to the border.

Here, they're received by 22 equally fortunate Indian porters.

A beady-eyed Pakistan Ranger

makes sure that there is no illegal emigration across the white border line.

So we leave one country where no elected government has ever completed its term

and enter another where nearly a billion use the ballot box.

The Indian way of doing things is immediately apparent. This man must be telepathic.

He knows what's on my mind.

That was your question? Beer, oh...! It's Thunderbolt.

That's what you need after...

After four weeks of abstinence,

because you're not allowed to drink in public in Pakistan,

so they obviously know that as soon as you get across the border,

this is what you might need. But I feel so healthy,

I feel fit, I feel younger, better... I don't know what to do with this.

Ooh!

Buoyed up by the beer and the relief that always comes from successfully crossing a frontier,

I hop into a local minibus which takes me the ten miles or so to the first Indian city.

Neither Muslim nor Hindu, Amritsar is a Sikh town.

I know a bit about Sikhs.

The turbans and the hair that should never be cut.

I know their reputation as fierce warriors and shrewd businessmen.

But to learn more, I make for Amritsar's most holy site, the Golden Temple.

Thank you. This is for going in to the temple?

I need one of these? What is it?

-ANSWER INDECIPHERABLE

-Yeah, what is it?

A scarf or...a hat?

Ten rupees, OK. So how do I wear it?

Can you show me? Ah.

I see, it's my own sort of...

..sort of semi-turban.

Thank you very much, thank you.

Though they seem quite a relaxed and worldly people,

the Sikhs do demand a strict dress code for the temple.

Apart from covering my head, I must leave my shoes and socks behind.

I'm also required to wash my hands, divest myself of all tobacco,

intoxicants and narcotics and enter via a cleansing pool.

There are an estimated 20 million Sikhs in India, 2% of the population.

They believe in one god for all, rich or poor, with no human hierarchies or priesthoods,

idols or icons coming in between.

It sounds commendably modest, but when I first see the gold-sheathed Haramandir,

their holy of holies, "modest" is not the word that comes to mind.

The Golden Temple itself, covered in 500kg of gold,

is only a small part of an enormous complex.

In the kitchens, volunteers take turns to prepare a simple free meal for anyone who wants it.

Chapatti, dhal, pickle and water,

24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

This is the chapatti production line.

These are the dhal vats.

Every day, in sweatshop conditions,

-thousands of kilos of lentil curry are stirred in titanic cauldrons.

I sample the result with a young Sikh, Onkar Singh.

So this the... I mean, essentially they give this... A basic meal,

-to whoever turns up.

-Yes.

-Within reason.

-But I mean it's a huge place, it must be a huge operation.

-Yes.

How many meals do they provide a day?

Basically, this cuisine, this kitchen is open 24 hours to everybody.

-Right.

-And every day, 40,000 to 50,000 people, they come here and have food.

What sort of people are they?

Are they poor people who can't get food anywhere else,

or people like us, who are making a television documentary?

Well, this is a basic thing of every Sikh temple. I mean essential for every Sikh temple.

You see, everybody has to come first in the kitchen.

The third Guru who started this tradition, Guru Amar Das,

he said, "If you want to meet me, first go to the kitchen."

Why he said that because, in this way, if anybody has ego or pride,

-so here everybody learns the lesson of equality.

-Yes, right.

-That's what it's about.

-No matter which class, which religion...

So it's probably more important for someone who is rich and can afford the food

-to come along and eat with everybody else.

-Yes.

-I see, that's the idea.

-Yes, even the king, Akbar, he came here and he had to sit equally with everybody.

-Yes.

So the answer of your question is, no matter if one is poor or rich,

come here and have food and the bless of God.

This is the essence of the kitchen.

Yeah, that's great!

And on Saturday and Sunday, there are limitless people.

I mean, about 100,000 people, they come here.

-100,000 come here?!

-Yes, 100,000 -

both floors, the ground floor and first floor, are busy with devotees,

and then they start with the pavements, they sit there and start eating.

This is all voluntary work, and the washing-up may be done by doctors, lawyers,

bricklayers, rickshaw drivers, or anyone who enjoys making a noise!

This causeway leads to the Haramandir, the most holy part of the temple.

Crowds wait in line to pay their respects to the Guru Granth, the holy book of the Sikh religion.

SIKH MUSIC IS PLAYED

In the holy book are the sacred ragas written by Guru Nanak,

who founded Sikhism in the 17th century.

These are performed by the musicians and singers in the holy of holies.

RAGAS ARE PLAYED

They ring round the temple non-stop for 16 hours a day.

It takes two-and-a-half days to chant the whole book, then it starts all over again.

And if you want to stay the night, there's a hotel out the back.

-Oops...

-Lots of peoples.

-Really busy, isn't it?

-Yeah.

How many people can they take here?

Well, about 25,000 people can stay here.

-At one time?!

-At one time, yes, 25,000 people. Isn't it...?

Gigantic, yes, yes.

Ah, thank you.

Oh, bathroom, yes, lovely.

Yeah.

Very efficient.

A shower for short people!

Everything you need. Jacuzzi?

-INDECIPHERABLE REPLY

-Oh, it's all right, I'll make my own. Thank you!

Very nice. That's extremely palatial. Thank you very much.

OK.

Well, that's not bad.

Ooh!

Divans, but, I mean, where else in the world could you get...

..a bathroom and two enormous king-sized beds for 65p a night?!

It's ten o'clock, and something is stirring in the Golden Temple,

as the devotional day draws to a climax.

MUSIC AND CHANTING

Followed by a man whose job it is to keep the air clean above it,

the Holy Book is borne out of the Haramandir on a pillow and laid on a palanquin.

The book is regarded as the 11th and last Guru of Sikhism,

and it, or rather he, will be taken across the causeway and quite literally, put to bed.

The doors are shut and fastened.

The book is laid on the bed and covered up until, at 2.30 tomorrow morning,

it will be woken up to start another day at the Golden Temple.

This is Kalka Station, starting point for the Himalayan Queen,

a train taking me up to the hill town of Shimla, previously known as Simla.

It's the start of school holidays, and the train is packed.

The Himalayan Queen will take me only 57 miles, but we will climb 7,000 feet.

With me on the journey is local historian Raaja Bhasin,

which is just as well, as I'm having trouble finding my seat.

There we are.

I think that's me,

unless there's another Michael P. And there you are, Raaja Bhasin, Bhasin, yeah.

There's no dining car, but there is home cooking, courtesy of a generous fellow passenger.

Oh, thank you very much. Well, that's lovely.

-What is this?

-This is puri.

-Puri. That's right. Puri and...?

-Made out of wheat flour.

-Wheat flour. Yes, oh!

-And these are potatoes.

-Oh, lovely!

-With the Indian spices.

With Indian spices, lovely. This is your picnic for the family, is it?

-Yeah, this is my picnic. Holiday time, with my family.

-Lovely.

And why did you... why did you choose to go to Simla?

Because it is nearby.

-Where are you from?

-I am from Delhi.

Did you have to start very early today?

Yeah. Four o'clock I wake up in the morning, I cooked food.

-Six o'clock we left.

-This at four o'clock?

-Yeah, I cooked this.

-Ah, that's... Well, that's...

At six o'clock we left our residence and at 7.40 we boarded the train.

-Is Delhi hard work? Is it a very high-pressure city?

-Yeah, very much pressure.

-What do you do?

-I am working with the government, Ministry of Defence.

Oh, right. Secret work?

-Yes, well, buying British weapons, we hope!

-Oh, no!

When the British ruled India, Simla was their summer headquarters.

Until the railway was built 100 years ago,

everything they needed would have been carried up here by horse or donkey.

But some of it, some of the stations and indeed all the actual bridges and tunnels,

look very similar to the way they did when it was opened?

-That's true, that's right.

-They've stood the test of time.

-Very well, like most of the stone.

They have been built by raw stone basing - no mortar.

The bridges are old-fashioned Roman aqueducts.

They're still functioning perfectly.

In actual terms of construction, nothing has really altered.

There are 103 tunnels on the line,

one of them built by the ill-fated Colonel Barog, who had it dug from both ends.

When they didn't meet in the middle, he shot himself.

You are a school, a school party, going to Simla?

-Here for a trip...

-Here?

Oh, right, so they're leaving the train now.

-How long are they... A week here, or something?

-For four days.

-Four days... And you are their teacher?

-Yes.

-Good luck!

Thank you, thank you very much.

-Had a nice time?

-Yes, we've had a very nice time!

The delicacies at the station buffet

seemed a good way of repaying my friend for her hospitality.

No!

Of course, she wouldn't have it.

How much are they?

Two, two for ten.

Fortunately, I know someone who will eat anything!

I only got two, I'm afraid!

And I'm going to eat both of them!

There you are, go on...

Do you like it with tomato?

Dip it in the tomato.

You're getting quite a gourmet in your old age!

We climb higher, pulling out of the dense jungle and running into alpine woodland.

I press Raaja to explain some of the more dubious legends of the railway.

How about the kissing tunnel, this story I heard?

Yes. It is over a kilometre long.

To go through the tunnel it takes about four minutes -

time enough to snatch a kiss.

Yeah, absolutely.

That's a very sort of... Jane Austen-ish kiss, really, four minutes.

-Nowadays they could have a family by then.

-Absolutely!

-Anyway, sorry.

So tell me...

That was why it's called the kissing tunnel? Ah, yeah.

So you figured out who was sitting where and what you had to do with whom,

and the moment the lights...

-When you enter the tunnel, it's an old steam engine...

-Oh, stop it!

Oh, get off me! Ooh, Raaja, please! Oh, ho!

LAUGHTER

Raaja, I didn't know you cared!

Oh, well!

Simla, the hill station, is now Shimla, the bustling provincial capital.

But the imperial legacy remains, and the Viceroy's palace -

Victorian self-confidence set in stone - still dominates the town.

One fifth of humanity was ruled from that room up there.

-One fifth of humanity? As much as that? The British Empire?

-Yes.

-And that was the Viceroy's office?

-Yeah.

For eight months of the year it was Simla,

which was officially the summer capital, but was the real capital.

For eight months of the year, the government was stationed at Simla,

right from about March, April, to October, November.

Someone like Gandhi, who's a modest man in style,

what would he have felt, coming to a place like this?

He disliked it, and the other thing was that while everybody else came in rickshaws,

human-pulled rickshaws, two men pulling and two men pushing,

Gandhi invariably walked to the place, where Nehru invariably used a horse.

Despite 60 years of independence, Shimla still feels like an Indian Tunbridge Wells.

-So where's this? This is the big...

-This is the ridge.

This is the big ridge, the town's largest open space.

And we're walking along a natural watershed now, Michael.

The flow from that side on our right goes down to the Bay of Bengal,

-and from the left to the Arabian Sea.

-Extraordinary.

Is that partly why they chose this spot? Dividing India, you know?

-Yes, or sitting astride it.

-Yes, yes.

Whatever way you look, it's an imposition, isn't it?

The old Gaiety Theatre survives, saved from retirement by the Indian army,

who use it as a club and put on the occasional production.

We're on stage, and the production...

What a jewel of a theatre, isn't it?

It's beautiful, yeah.

Someone said that Shimla was a bit like Cheltenham in India,

and I can see what they mean.

-Yes - locking India outside the door.

-Yeah.

What sort of names would have been on this stage? Any famous names?

Oh, yes, and not necessarily connected with theatre.

-There's Baden-Powell.

-Baden-Powell? What, the founder of the Scouts?

-Yes.

-Never thought he was a thesp.

He did this play here before he went off to the Boer War. And Kipling.

And what sort of plays used to be... They played here, and who would have supplied the cast?

Well, they were mostly drawing-room comedies, the occasional musical,

and in them would be, I think, government officers who really spend most of their time acting.

-I know there's a play on tonight.

-Yes.

-Now what time does it start?

-6.30.

-OK.

-Time to go.

-We'd better go. I'm sure they'd prefer to see us, but still!

Tonight's play is an early work by Michael Frayn.

The audience and actors are all army.

Well, before we start the play, we've got a surprise for you.

May I present to you, Mr Michael Palin!

Please come forward, Mr Michael Palin.

Thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you.

-APPLAUSE

-Thank you. If I might just crave your indulgence for a few moments.

My name is Michael Palin and I'm with the BBC filming a journey through the Himalayas.

A six-part series. And of course we couldn't come to the Himalayas

without coming to India, or India without coming to Shimla,

or Shimla without coming to this jewel of a theatre, the Gaiety.

And I'm absolutely delighted to be here on the stage of a theatre

that's be the envy of many towns. I hope you enjoy the production.

I know many of you are army people, so... By the right, quick laugh!

-Thank you!

-APPLAUSE AND LAUGHTER

I must say, there's a certain irony in coming 8,000 miles to India

to see a suburban comedy set in Surrey.

Is there anything that I can do?

No! Just getting the place straight!

Er...why don't you...

go back into the kitchen and relax?

It's awfully lonely in the kitchen. There's no-one to talk to.

The actors on stage work closely with their fellow actors offstage.

No, Barney, it's no good looking at me like that. No.

I'm not amused.

You just stay there, and don't you come out until I tell you. All right?

SPEECH DROWNED BY AUDIENCE

When the curtain finally comes down,

it's no surprise that the biggest round of the evening

is reserved for Mrs Vijaylakshmi Sood, the prompter.

APPLAUSE

-Vijaylakshmi Sood.

-LOUDER APPLAUSE

And our special guest, Mr Michael Plain.

LOUD APPLAUSE

Next morning, Michael Plain and driver head north to an altogether less happy place.

A battleground since independence and still one of the world's flashpoints, Kashmir.

60,000 have died in fighting over the last 15 years.

A bomb on the road north has just killed 33 people.

The root cause goes back 60 years.

At partition in 1947, Kashmir was a princely state,

free to choose if it wanted to stay in India, or join Pakistan.

The Maharajah chose India.

The trouble is that Kashmir was 80% Muslim.

In Kashmir, heaven and hell come pretty close.

Swanning about like Cleopatra in a barge on Dal Lake, I feel completely at peace.

But in the city of Srinagar, on the shores of the lake, a nasty war slowly grinds on.

The British loved the lake, but weren't allowed to own land near it,

so instead they built houseboats like manor houses.

They're mostly run as hotels now, and I shall be staying with Mr Ghulam Butt,

proprietor of Clermont Houseboats, once the most sought-after on the lake.

Mr Butt... You must be Mr Butt.

-So happy to see you.

-Well, it's nice to be here. You've obviously had a few people before me.

Yes, sir, they've all stayed here, even George Harrison.

George Harrison! My dear friend George, yes.

He was here and Mr Ravi Shankar and Jagger...

-What year was he here?

-That was 1966.

-1966, gosh.

-He was here, yes.

And one evening we have, they had a big party, musician party.

-And that's Joan Fontaine.

-Yes.

-One of the famous American movie stars, and...

-Nelson Rockefeller!

The last summer he was here...

Mr Butt's hall of fame is impressive. No less than 14 ambassadors have stayed here.

But the names stop in the 1980s,

and the faces on his wall are from another, more confident era.

This is one of the astronauts who went on the moon, the first man.

-Neil Armstrong.

-Oh, Neil Armstrong. Is that Neil Armstrong?

-Yes, sir, that Neil Armstrong. He was here. And...

-Wow!

And when they come here, they come here for...peace and quiet?

Yes, and for holidaying on the houseboat and enjoying the lake,

-enjoying my home, enjoying my garden...

-Oh, good, I want to see it.

You'll see, I'll show you. Some time, when you have time,

I'll show you the guest books, what remarks they put in my guest books.

Have you still got people coming now, despite the troubles?

Yes. Mostly journalists, because since 1990, you know all about...

I know there's been troubles.

The troubles we have, since 1990, because of the problems.

Sadly, the houseboat on which Ravi Shankar taught George Harrison the sitar is now half-submerged,

but despite the troubles, Mr Butt's eternal optimism

-has kept the bulk of his business afloat.

-Paradise on Earth.

The houseboats have been started in 1880. I give little flower.

-Oh, I say!

-This is just by the way, affection.

Greet you with some flowers and come into my houseboat.

This is the houseboats at this end.

Now we go in, and I show you the living room...

Oh, it's a palace, isn't it? Fit for a queen.

INDECIPHERABLE CONVERSATION

That's lovely. Thanks. Bye.

Pakistan and India have played for high stakes in Kashmir.

When you look out over Dal Lake it's almost impossible to believe that in 2001,

the threat of nuclear war brought a paradise like this to the brink of destruction.

A full-scale conflict may have been avoided,

but issues are still unresolved, and the fight for Kashmir goes on.

Only a week before we arrived,

Indian security forces used mortars to clear this hotel in Srinagar

of what they suspected were two Pakistani-backed militants.

Casualties of war lie in the local cemetery

and in many others like it throughout Kashmir.

This is a Muslim graveyard, and they call their victims martyrs.

Some fought the fight deliberately.

Others, like the mother and child killed in crossfire at the hotel,

were never given the choice.

This feels like an occupied country.

Tourism, once the lifeblood of Kashmir, has been hard hit.

As governments warn against non-essential travel,

international interest has all but dried up.

WIND HOWLS

An overnight downpour only adds to the air of melancholy that hangs over Srinagar,

as I'm shown around by Farooq, a local businessman.

Do you think the city is suffering quite a lot

-from the problems with the violence and all that?

-Very much, very much.

-Still is, is it?

-Last 14 years is very much. You see this outside.

Oh, look at that, yeah.

Srinagar has echoes of Belfast in the 1970s.

It's a city scarred by siege,

pockmarked by damage and neglect.

A city waiting with increasing desperation for the nightmare to end

and the symbols of hatred to disappear.

Perched high in the Himalayan foothills near Dharamsala

is the village of McLeodganj.

It's a nondescript place,

but backpackers and travellers from all over the world flock here.

Alongside local poverty is a parallel economy,

geared to the demands of well-heeled Westerners.

And the reason for all this is religion.

Neither Hindu, nor Muslim, but Buddhist.

Ten years after the Chinese took over his country,

the Dalai Lama, fearing death or imprisonment,

-fled across the Himalaya from Tibet.

-CHANTING

India's Prime Minister Nehru risked Chinese wrath to offer him sanctuary.

And this is where the leader of Tibetan Buddhism now lives,

surrounded by faithful followers.

These Indian hill villages have become known as Little Lhasa.

In this monastery, prayer flags hang in their thousands above gold and white stupas.

Ovens burning juniper and cedar make smoke trails up to the gods

and prayer wheels send good thoughts spinning out into the world.

Buddhism is an outgoing, inclusive religion

and at the temple they seem only too happy to let me take part in a ceremony

whose purpose is a complete mystery to me.

On a count of three, I, like everyone else, throw into the air my handful of tsampa - roast barley flour.

And, like everyone else, feel a lot better for it.

Young Tibetans, like Thupten Tsewang, have never seen their ancestral homeland.

Your parents had to leave Tibet, I assume, did they?

Yes. They came to India around in the 1960s.

During that time they were in a group, you know?

Do you think you'll ever go to Tibet?

No. I would like to go, really, but then it's really difficult at this moment.

We have special procedures to follow.

The unlikelihood of ever seeing Tibet doesn't seem to have dampened spirits here in Little Lhasa.

It's beautiful work, isn't it?

-This is our thangka painting studio.

-Right.

Everywhere you look, enormous energy is devoted to keeping the culture alive.

In this workshop, they produced thangkas - decorated religious scrolls.

They seem actually very young, most of the people who are working here.

People here presumably would never have been to Tibet.

How is it all organised?

Are they under the guidance of people who are Tibetan?

Yes, all of them are Tibetan.

Yes, all of them Tibetans, and how we organise this,

we have our master under whose guidance students can learn.

Are they in great demand?

Yes, I can say that, because we have a pile of orders. Like if you order a thangka now,

you have to wait for two, or five or six years.

-Five or six years to get one done?

-Yes, it's all piled up.

The Tibetan diaspora is a worldwide phenomenon, and the demand for images from America and Japan

makes the work profitable as well as educational.

The commitment is demanding.

A metal sculpture apprenticeship takes 12 years.

It's not just craftsmanship that's kept alive here.

Children are taught Tibetan song and dance almost as soon as they can walk.

Is this traditional Tibetan music?

Yes, very traditional Tibetan music.

The theme was started nine years back.

The theme is to let small children know their own cultural songs in that sense,

because we are losing it, because being influenced by Hindi songs, Bollywood songs...

So there's a danger of them being forgotten.

Being forgotten and the children didn't get acquainted.

So to make them acquainted, such events have been organised. Today is a celebration of Gandhi.

It's Gandhi's birthday.

So the children enjoy doing the Tibetan music?

They don't mind being weaned away from Bollywood?

No, you can see their faces - excited I guess.

Keeping world opinion on their side is very important to the Tibetans in exile.

To this end, they offer all sorts of services, including this astrology centre, which, among other things,

can tell you what you were in your previous life and what you'll become in the next.

Having sent my birth details to the experts upstairs, I've come along today to hear the results.

-Mr Palin, this way, please.

-Ah.

My astrologer's name is Phurbu Tsering.

So this is my astrological chart which will show, among other things,

what I will be reincarnated as and what I am reincarnated as, is that right?

-Yes, yes.

-Wow, this is...

I'm shaking a little bit.

Never known this information before. There's rather a lot of it.

Oh, here we go, right...

I see, yes.

So the real stuff, that comes here. Oh...

There's a lot.

Oh, here we are.

"You were likely to be an elephant in your previous life."

Oh, that's... I've always been kind to elephants!

Actually, an elephant charged me once, so I think he recognised me and wanted to say hello.

But... "You're going to be born as a daughter of a rich family

"in the West again."

I don't know what to say to that, really. I mean, it's not too bad.

Sometimes I suppose you have to give rather bad news to people, do you?

In that case...

This is all based on your date of birth,

based on an individual's date of birth time.

At that time his whole life is... looks like that, it's a map.

He or she may be born again as some sort of...

-bad life, or you know, bad birth, so in that case, you know, it doesn't mean that it's all fixed.

-Oh, right.

You can change it by yourself, through special approach, through special effort,

through your own hard work.

So if I was going to be born again as a...

-as a sort of mosquito, there's still time for me to change?

-Yes.

It's all, you know, in your hands, in this life.

You see, I'm really against all this. I don't believe in any predestine.

I prefer to think that some exercise of free will can control the course of my life.

That's how I was brought up. So it's interesting that what you're saying is that you can change your life,

but I was an elephant.

So I'll always remain having been an elephant, will I?

I can't change that. I was an elephant.

You were an elephant in your previous birth.

Do you know what you were in a previous life?

No, because I don't have my date of birth.

Really? You don't know exactly when you were born?

No, because my parents have all these records for us,

so I don't have... When the Chinese invaded our country...

So most of the youth of my age, we don't have...

The records of your birth were destroyed, because your parents had to leave Tibet.

If you believe this or not, I was even born on the roadside.

Many of our age at that time were born on the roadside.

The centrepiece of Little Lhasa and the head of the Tibetan government in exile

is this son of peasant farmers, his holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama.

At the age of two, this man who likes to call himself a simple monk,

was proved by various tests to be the reincarnation of the 13th Dalai Lama.

When he dies, he'll be reborn as the 15th Dalai Lama.

Morning prayers are open to people from all over the world

and the 68-year-old Dalai Lama seems genuinely pleased to see them,

whilst men in grey suits provide discreet security.

I've been granted a one-to-one audience with his holiness,

but before that, he's agreed to meet 700 other people.

In a smoothly organised operation, a line of pilgrims, well-wishers and fans

is moved briskly up the driveway and past the balcony of his bungalow.

In return for queuing patiently, they receive a handshake,

direct eye contact with the great man and a sacred cord blessed by him.

The Dalai Lama greets his Western admirers first.

Then it's the turn of the Nepalese and Tibetans.

Only, they get packets of herbal pills, blessed by his holiness, which will cure coughs and colds.

If the international pilgrims seem almost blase,

the Tibetans who stand in line are quite visibly awed by his presence.

Next, he meets refugees from Tibet.

To avoid reprisals if they go back, we film them from behind.

Trying to put them at their ease, he asks about the journey.

How did they bring their money across the border without being caught?

Did they swallow it and throw it up later?

He asks how many of them plan to go back.

If he goes back, he says, it would never be to the old feudal way of doing things.

Despite appearances, his message is modernise.

Then all of a sudden it's our turn.

Your holiness, thank you so much.

Thank you for coming to talk to us.

You're a busy man, aren't you?

Your face, very familiar to me, because of BBC!

Oh, really? Oh! Well, your face is very familiar to me!

Do you watch the BBC, then?

-Ah, practically every day.

-Do you?

Because I have more trust.

Really?

And mainly some beautiful documentaries, obviously, including your own...

your visits to different places.

And sometimes, sometimes I wonder, I wish to join with you, I could see many places.

-Meet different people.

-You know where we're going to next?

Within a month, we'll be going to Tibet, your holiness. But I don't think you'll want to come with us.

I was going to ask you something, because yesterday while I was here,

I went to your astrological department and they made up a chart for me.

And in my previous life I was an elephant.

And in my next life, I'm going to be the daughter of a rich family in the West.

Which do you think is the best?

Of the two options?

I wondered to myself, how does an elephant get to be a television presenter?

Because I think elephant also has a lot of curiosity...

to know...

go like that!

The trouble is, an elephant never forgets and I forget far too much.

But as we're going to Tibet, as I say, in a month, which is very exciting,

what sort of situation do you think we'll encounter there?

What is Tibet like at the moment? I hear there's a revival of interest in Buddhism.

Will we see this and will it be the real thing?

Now, since you are going there, so you yourself must find out what's the true situation.

Of course, although I am here,

outside Tibet,

not inside Tibet,

but as a Tibetan,

now I want to extend my welcome

to you...to visit my own country.

You are the best-travelled of any Dalai Lama in history

and you have a very hectic schedule.

Why do you think it's important to travel?

From my childhood, I always have curiosity

or desire to know more about different people, different culture,

and as a Buddhist monk I also have a great interest

to learn more about different religious traditions.

You lead this very hectic, frenetic life.

How do you keep in good condition? Do you have a health regime?

I think firstly my parent gives me this, I think, quite good body.

Except these two days, there is some problem with my eye, eyelid, little problem.

I've never seen you with your glasses off before.

-Really?

-I've never seen you with your glasses off.

Do I seem very small? Am I bit blurred?

But you are...

My daily life... My daily routine...

I'm usually quite, what can I say...

stable...

disciplined - breakfast, lunch, no dinner,

as a monk, Buddhist monk, but evening tea,

..and sleep.

Usually, I have a quite fixed...

Except when I travel at different places, especially America.

Then...

I...more than...

Sometimes more than 12 hours... differences.

So now, for example, now I...

One week ago, I return from United States.

My sleep...

not much problem, but my stomach still, American time.

Still!

Usually I...bath, toilet, usually morning,

but nowadays it's the evening, because of American time.

That's very tricky!

I know you're very busy. Thank you very much.

-Thank you.

-There's lots more I want to talk about, but you've got to talk to lots of other people.

The next day, the Dalai Lama is off on his travels again and the crowds are out to catch a glimpse of him.

He may see himself as "a simple monk", but his people, for whom life is religion,

see him as nothing less than the God King.

They may not want to share him with the world, but they pay him respect

as he sets off once more on his self-imposed mission to keep a candle burning for Tibet.

It's time for me to move on as well.

Up to Ladakh, the "land of passes", where the mountains take over the landscape.

A field of ancient stupas stand like melting snowmen,

a reminder of the days of prosperity when the Silk Route came through here,

carrying other travellers on their way to the East.

Next time, I micro-light up to the mountains,

watch Ghurkhas being recruited, leave ridiculous tips for the waitresses,

test myself on the Annapurna Trail...

..see the temples and funeral pyres of Kathmandu,

gamble with the licence-payers' money...

..meet the highest nuns in the world...

..and take Sunday lunch at Everest.

Himalaya...high adventure!