Throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the fact that they were "closed" to Europeans added to the mystery of Lhasa and

Tibet. The epithets "the Forbidden City" and the "forbidden land" merely served to enhance the desire of individual Western travelers to defy the authorities. Wellby, who wanted to go to Tibet to find out "what mysteries lay beneath the word UNEXPLORED with which alone our latest maps were enlightened" (1898, 72; emphasis in original) finally gave up when he realized that the only way to succeed "would have been to shoot the most determined of our obstructionists… Even if supposing we had shot some of them, it would have been a very hazardous step to have risked a serious scrimmage almost on our very frontier" (72; emphasis added).

The desire to explore the unknown as the main reason to travel to Tibet is nicely expressed in Deasy:

I had long entertained the desire to travel in some unknown country, and in the spring of 1896, when circumstances were favourable, the wish was transformed into a settled purpose. The vast extent of the territory marked "unexplored" on the map of Tibet, then recently published, at once attracted me, and it was to this inhospitable and almost inaccessible land that I resolved to proceed. (1901, 2)

The opening of Tibet did not follow the British invasion: travel to Lhasa was severely restricted both by the Lhasa authority and the British Indian government. The "forbidden" character of Tibet was etched even deeper in Western imagination when China occupied Tibet and long periods of effective and coercive isolation began. Though Tibet has been opened to travelers in limited numbers since the 1980s, severe travel restrictions remain. Dodging Chinese authorities and encounters with "real" Tibetans (as opposed to "Sinicized" Tibetans) have become a staple of much contemporary travel writing (see, for example, Abbots 1997; Berkin 2000; Kewley 1990; McCue 1999; Morpurgo 1998; Patterson 1990; Scholberg 1995; Wilby 1988).

Alexandra David-Neel was the first Western woman to be granted an audience with the Dalai Lama in Kalimpong. [41] She was the first to enter Lhasa when she went with a Sikkimese lama (Yongden) whom she adopted as her son and later brought to live in France. She set off in the winter of 1923 disguised as a Tibetan pilgrim, maps hidden in her boots, revolver in her peasant dress; she outwitted officials and bandits, enduring days without food and nights without shelter. Her account of her journey to Lhasa is replete with various themes common to Exotica Tibet. Though it is a travel account, it is also a journey into spiritual realms. As Hopkirk writes in the introduction to a later edition of her book, "her explorations were of the Tibetan mind rather than of the terrain" (David-Neel 1991, xv).

The book, originally published in 1927, starts with her rationale for taking the adventurous but dangerous trip. The British prohibited her from traveling in the Himalayan region, [42] which increased her determination. Once, when she was stopped from proceeding into Tibet,

I took an oath that in spite of all obstacles I would reach Lhasa and show what the will of a woman could achieve! But I did not think only of avenging my own defeats. I wanted the right to exhort others to pull down the antiquated barriers which surround, in the center of Asia… if "heaven is the Lord's," the earth is the inheritance of man, and… consequently any honest traveller has the right to walk as he chooses, all over the globe which is his. (xxv)

Her criticisms are also directed against the central Tibetan authority based in Lhasa. It was a period when Tibetans had been successful in pushing out the Chinese army and controlled large parts of the ethnically Tibetan area. According to her, the Tibetans lost much in parting with China, for their "sham independence profits only a clique of court officials" (256).

David-Neel's exoticization is more about the Tibetan landscape and less about the Tibetan people. While she finds most Tibetans very superstitious, she admires the physical landscape: "But is not everything a fairy tale in this extraordinary country, even to the name it gives itself, that of Khang Yul, 'the land of snows'?" (277). She derives spirituality not from Tibetan religion but from the geographical and natural landscape. After living the life of a Tibetan mystic, she felt that natural edifices like mountains and valleys conveyed a mysterious message: "What I heard was the thousand-year old echo of thoughts which are re-thought over and over again in the East, and which, nowadays, appear to have fixed their stronghold in the majestic heights of Thibet" (24). She considered the fantastic to be an everyday occurrence in Tibet. Mystics and mysticism are ever present in her pages. Speaking of the mystics' retreat in parts of Tibet, she writes, "This world of the Thibetan mystics is a mystery in the mystery of Thibet, a strange wonder in a wonderful country" (198).

David-Neel is conscious of her gender and the extra significance it has for her trip. When she finally succeeds in her goal, she writes, "All sights, all things which are Lhasa's own beauty and peculiarity, would have to be seen by the lone woman explorer who had had the nerve to come to them from afar, the first of her sex" (259). She concludes, "The first white woman had entered forbidden Lhasa and shown the way. May others follow and open with loving hearts the gates of the wonderland" (310).

Although David-Neel's journey into the wonderland of Tibet was a spiritual adventure, the dominant impression it conveys is that of a travel adventure. In contrast, accounts such as Peter Mattheissen's The Snow Leopard are primarily about spiritual journey. Physical adventure comes to symbolize a spiritual quest.

The Snow Leopard, first published in 1978, is about the search in the Himalayas for the elusive eponymous cat. It is also a celebrated account of the bond between human beings and nature. Written out of Peter Matthiessen's interest in Zen, The Snow Leopard (1995) recounts his trip to the remotest parts of Nepal with the naturalist George Schaller in search of the Himalayan blue sheep and the rarely seen snow leopard. Matthiessen confronts the beauty, mysteries, and often violent world of the Himalayas as well as his own equally strange and difficult feelings about life and death. Not surprisingly, the one book he carries with him is the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

The author exoticizes natives throughout the book. Praising Sherpas for their primitivism, he writes, "The generous and open outlook of the sherpas, a kind of merry defencelessness, is by no means common, even among sophisticated peoples; I have never encountered it before except among the Eskimos" (1995, 40). His companion calls Sherpas "childish people" (109). Matthiessen is ashamed of himself when he witnesses the "happy go lucky spirit," the "acceptance which is not fatalism but a deep trust in life" exhibited by Sherpa companions (149).

Unlike David-Neel, whose specific goal was to reach Lhasa, Matthiessen has no aim. "I would like to reach the Crystal Monastery,

I would like to see a snow leopard, but if I do not, that is all right too" (93). When all he gets to see are the marks of the snow leopard, he writes, "I am disappointed, and also, I am not disappointed. That the snow leopard is, that it is here, that its frosty eyes watch us from the mountain-that is enough" (221). In response to a question- "Have you seen the snow leopard?"-he replies, "No! Isn't that wonderful?" (225). When asked why he took the journey, he replies: "I wished to penetrate the secrets of the mountains in search of something still unknown that, like the yeti, might well be missed for the very fact of searching" (121-22; emphasis added).