Bach has been one of the most eloquent opponents of any boycott of the Summer Olympics in Beijing — leading a lightning pro-Games campaign earlier this year when tensions in Tibet flared.

The man who won a gold medal in fencing for West Germany in 1976 in Montreal was more than happy to talk openly in his soft southern German accent about a wide range of issues.  

But the smile disappeared from Bach’s face when I asked about comments last week from Zhang Qingli, Tibet’s Chinese Communist party boss: “We will certainly be able to totally smash the splittist schemes of the Dalai Lama clique.”  

Bach had already seen the remarks made in conjunction with the Olympic torch relay through the Tibetan capital, Lhasa.  

“I don’t consider that to be an acceptable formulation, especially at the Olympic torch relay,” Bach said. “It’s essential that one carefully chooses the right words — there is after all a dialogue going on now with representatives of the Dalai Lama. And that evidently did not happen here. That is not the type of language that is appropriate for the dialogue and for the Olympic torch relay.”  

Bach said German Olympians would be free to express their opinions about any issues at all in China — but political demonstrations are forbidden.

“One has to respect the position of the athletes, and by that I mean any position they have.”  

Bach is certain the Olympics have already contributed to a great opening of China and believes the effects will be lasting.

“The Games are definitely contributing to an opening in China. There’s already been a considerable development and the Games will further that development. When 25,000 journalists, hundreds of thousands of overseas visitors and 10,000 athletes from 205 nations come into a country and communicate with the people, all that will leave an impact on Chinese society.  

But Bach acknowledges that the IOC has little say in what happens in China after the Olympics are over.  

“We’re not the supra-national government of any country or the world. What’s important is that the Games make a contribution to promote communication, understanding and dialogue — and on those counts to leave a lasting impact on Chinese society. That is the task at hand for the Games and that goal will be fulfilled.”

Picture of Bach (top) by Alex Grimm, Zhang (bottom, left) by Nir Elias

As the weekend snowstorms destroyed the careful preparations the Chinese had made on the mountain and a second week in Tibet became an inevitability, there has been a lot of talk about going home. Not just from journalists, either. Many of the officials who travelled with us from Beijing or joined us at Lhasa airport barely attempt to disguise their low spirits any more. I don’t know whether the cause is the altitude, the cold, the increasingly predictable diet, the lack of showers or just day after day of telling news-hungry journalists that there is no news. One of the senior officials told me again today that he thought we were getting “closer and closer” to “our goal”, while another said he thought our fond farewells would not be not too far away.

Perhaps I’m clutching at straws.

Still, at today’s briefing, the full team of 31 Chinese on the mountain was listed so at least we have names, ages, sexes, and, quite interestingly, ethnic origins to flesh out the “climbers” we refer to in our stories. They are a bit more human now. The continuing good weather has also raised expectations that the end might be nigh. It’s quite windy down here but on the mountain, the tell-tale flag of snow coming off the peak suggests the wind is not too strong and is blowing in a westerly direction. A mountaineering official has told us that it is the east wind that brings snow.

So the hopes are high that they might summit on Wednesday or Thursday and we could all be off the mountain in time to celebrate Dave’s birthday with a few beers at the weekend.

Picture by David Gray

At last, 11 of us did get onto a plane to Lhasa last Friday. It was soon clear that while the Tibetan authorities were prepared to let us in, this was by no means going to be a free-ranging reporting assignment.

The hotel ‘near Lhasa airport’ that we had been promised turned out to be 300 kilometres away in Shigatse (3,900m).

The compensation was the drive up a stunning river valley. Tibetan prayer flags fluttered in a stiff breeze above the squat houses and children skinny-dipped in the aquamarine water beneath azure skies.

On one of the toilet stops, a friend of mine in the Chinese media party told me he had been acclimatizing in Lhasa for four days. It turned out that all the Chinese media had had at least one day more to get accustomed to the high altitude. 

We arrived at Shigatse late in the evening, were fed and told to be ready for departure at 9am the next morning.

Seen through the windscreen of an official Chinese government bus, a paramilitary soldier stands guard under a road sign located near Lhasa Airport April 25, 2008 indicating the road to the Tibetan capital of Lhasa and the town of Rikaze. A heavy troop presence was evident on Friday lining the road between the capital Lhasa and Shigatse, the second largest city in Tibet, after foreign reporters were allowed into the region to witness the Olympic torch ascend Mt Everest. REUTERS/David Gray (CHINA)