The biggest kick in all Lhasa is hanging around the Barkhor. Like everyone else, we went often, loving the slow peaceful atmosphere of the drone of prayers, the grandmas with their spinning prayer wheels and long scraggly braids, the babies with the split pants, young people flirting and laughing, vendors selling all kinds of colorful tourist crap as well as silk scarves and butter lamps and malas (rosaries) for the Tibetans.