A landmark in travel writing, this is the incredible true story of Heinrich Harrer’s escape across the Himalayas to Tibet, set against the backdrop of the Second World War.Heinrich Harrer, already one of the greatest mountaineers of his time, was climbing in the Himalayas when war broke out in Europe. He was imprisoned by the British in India but succeeded in escaping and fled to Tibet. Settling in Lhasa, the Forbidden City, where he became a friend and tutor to the Dalai Lama, Heinrich Harrer spent seven years gaining a more profound understanding of Tibet and the Tibetans than any Westerner before him.More recently made into a film starring Brad Pitt, Seven Years in Tibet is a stunning story of incredible courage and self-reliance by one of the twentieth century’s best travel writers.
Оглавление
Heinrich Harrer. Seven Years in Tibet
Seven Years in Tibet. Heinrich Harrer. Translated from the German by Richard Graves. With an Introduction by Peter Fleming
Contents
THE DALAI LAMA
Introduction
Preface
Map
1. Internment
2. Escape
3. Into Tibet
4. The Village of Happiness
5. On the Move
6. The Worst Trek of All
7. The Forbidden City
8. Calm Waters
9. Asylum Granted
10. Life in Lhasa—I
11. Life in Lhasa—II
12. An Attempted Coup d’Etat
13. Commissions from the Government
14. Tibet Prepares for Trouble
15. Tutor to the Dalai Lama
16. Tibet is Invaded
17. I Leave Tibet
Epilogue
P. S. Ideas, interviews & features …
About the Author
Other Books by the same author
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Отрывок из книги
Message from the Dalai Lama
Introduction by Peter Fleming
.....
At last the valley broadened out and our way lay through rice and cornfields. It became more and more difficult to find a good hide-out for the daytime. Once we were discovered during the morning and as the peasants kept asking us all manner of indiscreet questions, we packed up our traps and hurried onwards. We had not yet found a new hiding-place when we met eight men who shouted to us to stop. Our luck seemed at last to have deserted us. They asked us innumerable questions and I kept on giving the same answers, namely that we were pilgrims from a distant province. To our great astonishment we seemed somehow to have stood the test, for after a while they let us go on our way. We could hardly believe that we had done with them, and long after we had moved on we thought we heard pursuing footsteps.
That day everything seemed to be bewitched and we had constant upsets. Finally we had to come to the discouraging conclusion that we had indeed crossed a watershed, but were still in the valley of the Jumna—which implied that we were at least two days behind our timetable.
