With or without help, we start to the checking point. The feeling is that we leave a country being in war, from which everyone are in a hurry to escape. On a bridge not too wide, many shake people, with much luggage, cars, trucks, ballots of goods, make this route with obstacles a sequence lived with strange delight. The adventure begins. Because all this fuss and speed carriers, some of us don’t see a line drawn somewhere in the middle of the bridge, advancing too much in the Chinese side. Only then the presence of an armed soldier at the end of the line becomes evident to us. Needless to say, he is not impressed by our looking forward for visiting his country, waving his arms and screaming to our harmless guide. For a moment, the anger from his eyes makes us to think he moves to the facts. But he remains still calm after we regrouped and check our common visa. Few other checks follow, including a superficial searching in our baggages, that we pass smoothly. Only later, many of us find out that we have a revolutionary in our group that hides in her troler two Tibetan flags purchased from Bhakhtapur, thinking, as a joke, to fly to Potala windows. All this after we were informed Lonely Planet guide is not allowed in this country, simply because it mentions the Dalai Lama. “Free Tibet!” Be it!