As I continued walking past the public relations spectacle, the smell of incense began to punctuate the diesel exhaust. And there were more people wearing traditional robes. As I rounded the corner at post office, it rose up in front of me. The Potala Palace. There was a steady stream of pilgrims circling it, ignoring the armed guards that were watching them closely. (image by Ryan Gauvin)
As I continued walking past the public relations spectacle, the smell of incense began to punctuate the diesel exhaust. And there were more people wearing traditional robes. As I rounded the corner at post office, it rose up in front of me. The Potala Palace. There was a steady stream of pilgrims circling it, ignoring the armed guards that were watching them closely.
©Ryan Gauvin
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