Right away, let me make something clear. I'm one of those people who hates to be identified as a "senior." Sure, I'm qualified. In fact, I'm overqualified, but over the hill? Not yet! And if you think I feel strongly about the topic, meet my husband.

So when I mentioned signing up for an escorted group tour with a company whose trips are marketed to older travelers, his response was, "No way! I'm not going anywhere with a bunch of old fogies!"

Never mind that he's one himself. Aside from the age issue, we've always been independent travelers, flying somewhere, renting a car, wandering around on our own, stopping whenever and wherever we want, and feeling supremely superior to those who travel in groups, especially on buses.

So how did we end up in China and Tibet on a 22-day group tour for mature grownups? Well, we had long wanted to go there but were hesitant to go alone to such exotic places with such indecipherable languages. How would we ever figure out how to ask, "Where's the bathroom?" or "How do we get to Hangchow?" So we signed up with Overseas Adventure Travel, a company offering "active" explorations designed specifically for travelers older than 50.

It turned out that we were the oldest fogies on the tour and all of us had to step lively. Overseas Adventure Travel is the younger, peppier sister of Grand Circle Travel, the goliath operator of leisurely escorted trips to the ends of the earth for the older crowd. Grand Circle takes up to 40 voyagers at a clip, average age is 73.

Overseas Adventure gets a younger group mostly in their 50s and 60s, limits the participants to 16, and plans energetic, fast-paced tours for which you must be in good condition. Bad back? Stiff joints? Low energy? Forget it. We were told in advance that we should be able to walk at least three miles "unassisted" per day, climb steep and uneven stone steps, negotiate cobbled or dusty streets, tolerate an altitude of 12,000 feet, and get up out of our beds very early at least two mornings. Not only that: We soon learned that we were expected to move right along, no lagging or straggling.

It helped that every tiny detail of the tour was carefully planned and that everything went exactly as planned. The luggage usually arrived in our rooms before we did, our tickets were always ready, we didn't have to worry about getting lost, drivers never failed to show up on time, our accommodations were clean and comfortable, we could always find the ladies' room (such as it was), and all of it was orchestrated by Stephanie (Chinese name: Li Zheng), our gem of a guide.

BEIJING BUSTLE

We flew into Beijing, China's bustling and booming capital, a city of 15 million people, nine million bicycles, 58 stadiums (some still under construction for the 2008 Olympics), at least 10 million cars, and dozens of brand-new skyscrapers. Here we met up with our fellow travelers, all of whom looked to be in decent shape. We checked into our modern downtown hotel, slept as soundly as we could after traveling across many time zones, and in the morning set off together to see the sights accompanied by our local Beijing guide Grace and, of course, Stephanie, who filled us in on history, culture and customs.

First we got a quick lesson in the Chinese language: "Nee hao" (hello); Nee hao ma? (how are you?); "Ding ding hao" (excellent); and "Ma ma hu hu" (so-so), phrases that didn't get us very far and, in fact, got pretty tiresome coming as they did from the lips of every tourist we encountered in the next three weeks. We also learned some important pointers such as don't drink the tap water, watch out for pickpockets and bicyclists, and have "toilet money" ready in case you need to pay the attendant for the privilege.

Before we go any further, let's discuss the food because not a soul has failed to ask, "So how was the food?" The honest answer is that it was exceptionally good, granted that it was all Chinese all the time (except in Tibet, when it was all Tibetan all the time and consisted largely, it seemed to us, of yak and yak byproducts). Well, OK, at breakfast we got to choose between Chinese and Western. Lunch and dinner were served at big, round tables with a huge lazy susan in the middle laden with bowls of at least 12 different dishes. The food varied with the geography; Sichuanese, for example, is much spicier than Beijingese or Cantonese, and if you didn't love one dish, you were sure to like another.

With your chopsticks (or a fork, if absolutely necessary, as it was for me), you pick as little or as much as you want from the constantly replenished bowls. We ate many tasty dishes ranging from Peking duck to fried dumplings, bok-choy soup, sweet and sour pork, and pickled cabbage.

Nevertheless, when we got to Hong Kong at the end of the tour, we sped off to a Western-style deli for a tuna sandwich. It was delicious.

The next question we get is "How were the facilities?" everyone having heard dire descriptions of same. Here, I have to admit, things were not always great, at least for the women. In most public places popular with tourists, the facilities are mostly Western-style and quite acceptable. On the road, however, the toilets are usually Asian-style, a tiled hole in the floor, or more disconcerting, stone troughs above which you have to perch. Three weeks isn't long enough to get used to those.

EMPERORS' DOMAIN

First stop on our explorations in Beijing was Tiananmen Square, known for the tragic student demonstrations that took place there in 1989. A huge open space filled with people, it is dominated by a giant portrait of Mao, Memorial Hall where he is entombed in a crystal sarcophagus, the Monument to the People's Heroes, a 125-foot granite obelisk, and plenty of other statuary.

Next was the Forbidden City where 24 emperors ruled for nearly 500 years and commoners faced death if they dared to enter. One of the few ancient structures not destroyed by Mao's masses during the Cultural Revolution, it is a 9,000-room maze of courtyards, palaces, living space, and ceremonial halls that housed the emperor and his family plus their staffs, 3,000 concubines, 10,000 palace maids and eunuchs, and 10,000 soldiers who guarded everybody else.

In Beijing, we also visited a carpet factory, a jade factory, a cloisonné factory, a kung-fu academy, the Peking Opera, the fascinating old section of town called the hutong and the fabulous lakeside Summer Palace of the emperors that was destroyed in 1966 and has since been restored to its former glory.

On our third day in town, we set forth by van to the world-famous Great Wall whose massive ramparts were begun in the 5th century B.C. and once snaked their way over mountains and across valleys for 6,200 miles.

Arriving at a section of the wall still undiscovered by the customary hordes of tourists, we climbed up, up, up steep often-wobbly stone steps until we couldn't breathe but we could see the wall winding far across the countryside. It was a tough climb up, but, for me, coming down on quivering muscles was even harder. My husband, in better condition than most of the 50-somethings, claimed it was no problem.

Leaving Beijing, we boarded an overnight train trip to Xian, once the largest city in the world and a major trading hub along the Silk Route but now a modern industrial town. The train was spotless and comfortable, the two of us in our own private compartment. In the morning, having actually slept through the night, we checked into the Xian Garden Hotel, built in traditional style with gardens and a pond in the middle, and set off to see the Big Wild Goose Pagoda built during the Tang dynasty and the Shaanxi History Museum.

These were mere preludes to the really big deal in Xian: the Terra Cotta Army, thousands of 2,000-year-old life-size clay warriors and horses recently unearthed in the underground tomb of Qin Shu Huangdi, the first Chinese emperor. Discovered in 1974 by farmers digging a well, they are only part of the enormous trove of treasures yet to be excavated. Seeing the rows and rows of the restored clay soldiers, whose purpose was to guard the tomb, was astonishing.

An overnight stay in a local farmer's home was next on our agenda. Here we ate dinner and breakfast with the family, danced with them in the village square, wandered the streets of the village, saw a four-man noodle factory, and learned a little about everyday life in the countryside. From Xian we flew to the Sichuan city of Chengdu for a visit to the Giant Panda Sanctuary to watch these black and white animals munch on bamboo.

TIBETAN SUNSHINE

Early the next morning, it was onward by air to Lhasa, Tibet, a major highlight of the trip, where it took us a day or so to become accustomed to the altitude, almost 12,000 feet. Many of Tibet's ancient treasures were destroyed by China's Red Guards, but a few of them remain, including the 1,300-year-old Jokhang Temple that houses a 7th-century Buddha, and the 17th-century 1,000-room Potala Palace, home to many generations of Dalai Lamas (the current Dalai Lama lives in exile in India).

We arrived in town on the holiest day of the year, the day the Tibetans celebrate Buddha's birthday, when the streets are filled with crowds of people from the countryside carrying prayer wheels and beads and wearing the colorful clothes of their villages. All of these pilgrims were there to pay their respects to Buddha, walking slowly around the gilded temple, prostrating themselves over and over again in the dust before it, and joining a long line of people entering the temple to pray and leave gifts of money. Our group, led by Tashi, our excellent local guide, snaked its way inside too, to view the glorious shrines, the yak-butter candles, yak-oil lamps, the most celebrated statue of Buddha, and the hordes of monks in red robes.

Next day we climbed again, trudging up more than 350 stone steps to the top of the 13-story Potala Palace where the Dalai Lama once lived amid an array of treasures and sweeping views of the city and the surrounding mountain peaks. Climbing down, we visited a nearby orphanage where we were greeted by a group of little Tibetans singing "You Are My Sunshine."

THREE GORGES

Returning to Chengdu, we boarded a bus to Chongqing and the Yangtze River passing rice paddies where crouched figures and water buffalo worked in knee-deep murky water.

Here we boarded an elegant riverboat operated by Victoria Cruises, the largest purveyor of travel on the river, for a three-day journey on the river that flows 1,300 miles through nine provinces of China. The ship carried about 200 passengers, our little group of 16 among them. Between tasty meals in the big dining room, lectures, entertainment, and sightseeing excursions ashore, we sailed through spectacular country, through locks and steep gorges, past cargo ships, sampans, and ferryboats, partially submerged villages and substantial cities, all the way to the Three Gorges Dam site. With completion due in 2009, this will be the world's largest dam, inundating 632 square miles and dislocating over a million people.

We disembarked in Yichang and drove to Wuhan, the largest city in central China and once the center of European trade after the Opium Wars. In fact, our hotel once served as the French Embassy here and was typical of the European architecture lined up along the waterfront.

Then we were off to our last stop, Hong Kong, for a taste of the cosmopolitan life, elegant shops, sophisticated restaurants, architecturally-amazing buildings and tuna sandwiches.

Have I mentioned shopping? We shopped and shopped all over China and Tibet, mostly patronizing the colorful stalls in the outdoor markets that lined every street and alley where tourists were likely to go.

If you're planning a trip to Asia, do it now. The Chinese industrial revolution is happening right before our eyes. Take it from these two fogies who came back wishing for more and with a fresh idea of what traveling with "seniors" could mean.

Joan Rattner Heilman is the author of a best-selling guidebook, "Unbelievably Good Deals and Great Adventures That You Absolutely Can't Get Unless You're Over 50" (McGraw-Hill, $14.95).