by Xinhua writer Liu Zhoupeng
LHASA, Oct. 22 (Xinhua) -- As a Lhasa-based journalist, I used to see trains simply as transport between assignments. But as the Qinghai-Xizang Railway marked 20 years of operation, the journey itself became my story.
In 2006, the Qinghai-Xizang Railway opened to traffic, linking Lhasa, capital of southwest China's Xizang Autonomous Region, with the rest of the country by rail for the first time. With its highest point at 5,072 meters, it was -- and remains -- the world's highest railway.
This time, I bought a ticket to Xining, capital of northwest China's Qinghai Province and the other end of the line, and chose a window seat to see what had changed over 20 years.
In the morning, the train pulled out of Lhasa Railway Station. Out the window, glass facades of office buildings caught the sun, and wide boulevards formed a grid across land that had been open fields when the first train departed in 2006.
The station is in Liuwu, which became Liuwu New Area a year after the railway opened and is now the Lhasa High-tech Zone, a national-level high-tech zone whose core industries include new energy, the digital economy and financial services.
Better access has brought capital, talent and businesses, and local residents have benefited directly.
Dawa Sangpo, Party chief of the Liuwu community, whom I met at the ticket gate, said the community operates rental housing, hostels and street shops, and its collective income has increased fivefold.
"Six households once received subsistence allowances. Now none do," he told me, adding that per capita annual income has risen from 7,800 yuan (about 1,164 U.S. dollars) to more than 30,000 yuan over the past two decades.
The freight has changed too. Train attendant Wang Jiajia, a veteran on this line, told me that early trains carried mostly steel, fuel and daily necessities. Today, freight cars carry household appliances, pet carriers and furniture to the plateau, along with new energy vehicles for export via Xizang.
Figures from the railway authorities show that in 2025, freight between the region and the rest of the country increased 22 times over the 2006 level, with outbound shipments such as yak meat and highland barley climbing every year. The railway has become a corridor linking the national market with the plateau's specialty resources, moving more people and goods every year.
I was thinking about how the railway had reshaped the plateau when something outside the window caught my eye. As the train rumbled across a modern bridge, the majestic Potala Palace, a UNESCO World Heritage site dating back some 1,300 years, came into view on the hillside, its white walls and gold roofs glowing in the sun. It felt as if history and the present met in a single frame, and for a moment I could hardly look away.
The view caused a stir in the carriage. Passengers nudged each other toward the windows, raising phones and cameras to capture the moment.
Wang explained that many first-time visitors, both domestic and international, choose to travel to Xizang by train rather than by air. The plateau scenery outside the window is one attraction, and the onboard oxygen supply is another, allowing passengers to adjust gradually to the thin air rather than adapt suddenly after a flight.
With its pristine landscapes and rich Tibetan culture, Xizang received over 70.73 million tourist visits in 2025, up 10.71 percent year on year, with total tourism revenue up 9.51 percent to 81.68 billion yuan.
Several hours later, the train crested the Tanggula Pass -- the line's highest point at 5,072 meters above sea level -- and pulled into Yanshiping station at 4,721 meters for a four-minute stop. The stop, which opened to passenger service at the end of 2025, serves herders from four townships in Amdo County.
I struck up a conversation with Champa, a local herder who boarded at the station. We compared the trip: a bus ride to the county seat could be expensive and took more than four hours. The train now covers the distance in two hours for 30 yuan.
As the train rolled north, the view outside shifted from modern buildings to open grassland, where yaks and sheep grazed in the sun. Further on, the vegetation grew sparser, and kiangs and yaks appeared occasionally on the vast plain.
The railway has made room for wild animals, with 33 wildlife crossings totaling nearly 60 km located under bridges, on gentle embankment slopes and above tunnels. The 11.7-km Qingshuihe (Clear Water River) Bridge, which also serves as a wildlife corridor across permafrost, and other bridges were raised on stilts, leaving nearly 3,000 openings below.
"Trains are not allowed to sound their horns when passing these crossings," Wang told me.
Thanks to conservation efforts in recent decades, the number of Tibetan antelopes has increased from over 70,000 in the 1990s to over 300,000, and the International Union for Conservation of Nature has adjusted the species' status from endangered to near threatened, reflecting its population recovery.
On the human side, the numbers are no less striking. Since it began operation, the Qinghai-Xizang Railway has handled more than 100 million passenger trips, with more than 12.25 million passenger trips in and out of Xizang between 2021 and 2025.
Over the years, the rail network in Xizang has grown from a single line into a Y-shaped network, with the Lhasa-Xigaze line opening in 2014 and the Lhasa-Nyingchi line in 2021 joining the original spine.
According to a white paper released in March last year, Xizang's operational railway length grew from 701 km in 2012 to 1,359 km in 2024.
Inside the carriage, some passengers rested while using supplemental oxygen, some chatted and others looked at their phones.
Twenty years ago, boarding a train was an event on the plateau; today it is so ordinary that few people comment on it. I realized the railway has been woven into daily life here, turning the extraordinary into the ordinary. ■
