Category Xinjiang

We have been extremely fortunate in who we have come in contact with through Abandon the Cube. We’ve met so many amazing travelers, as well as great writers, photographers and people on amazing missions across the planet. While we’d love to tell you about everyone we meet, there literally isn’t enough space for the high praise we’d want to laud on some of these worthy travelers. Nevertheless, here is a glimpse at two travel writing teams and how they have chosen to spend their lives on the road fighting for a cause.

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We were recently contacted by two inspired travelers named Bernard and Danielle who have been traveling throughout Africa interviewing local farmers, NGOs, and community groups who are working to alleviate hunger and poverty. They operate a travel blog site called Borderjumpers. Danielle, who is a livestock and sustainability expert, is traveling across the continent for Worldwatch, a USA-based think tank. She talks with farmers about their ongoing projects, their efforts to combat hunger and poverty, and the sustainability of their work. Bernard is an expert on local labor movements and communication, and travels with Danielle helping to discuss important issues with locals in every African country. Their mission is to visit every country in Africa and talk about farming, labor movements and the future with everyone. You can learn more about these travelers by visiting their travel blog. While they are traversing the continent they are uploading blogs when they find internet. We encourage you to check out the duo’s work and link to their site!

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You might also be extremely interested in learning about Josh, who created and runs Far West China, a travel blog and information site about Xinjiang, China. Xinjiang is a little mentioned area in the world’s most populated country, and one that is distinctly different. A primarily Uyghur, Muslim area, Xinjiang is home to Kashgar, Urumqi and Dunhuang– just a few treasured locations you’ve probably heard of. Josh writes extremely well researched guides to attractions in the area, like his ebook on Turpan. Josh not only keeps up with local news, local travel info and local culture, but he is an active advocate for the Uyghur people. His passion for China’s far west province has landed him an endearing spot in our travel hearts. Check out his blog, check out his site and definitely grab a peek at the newly released ebook.

Arrival in Ashgabat

Originally, the trip was planned as a Shanghai to Ashgabat adventure. Well, we have an announcement to make—we have decided to keep on going. Since this was our original destination, here are some updates on the stats so far.

Total miles by land: 13,136 miles by land
Number of countries visited: 4
Total amount spent: $882 per person
Number of days on the road: 43
Amount spend per day based on total amount and days on the road: $20.50
Total number of currencies used/traded: 6 (RMB, KZT, USD, UZS, TMM, AZM)
Number of lost items: 3 (Mike’s sandals, Mike USB, Lauren cell phone (later recovered!)
Number of mosquito bites: Lauren 14 and two bee stings, Mike 6
Number of bouts of food poisoning: Lauren two, Mike one
Bribes paid: Two (Kazakhstan)
Number of trains taken: 7
Number of border checks: 6
Number of crappy batteries gone through: 6
Number of cities seen: 10
Number of buses taken: 5
Number of pictures taken: 3,800 (14.3 GB), 95 in Shanghai, 56 + 77 + 43 on the rail, 259 in Urumqi, 422 in Kashgar, 96 in Yarkand, 307 at Lake Karakul and Tashkurgan, 100 in Almaty, 394 in Tashkent, 142 Chorsu Lake, 661 in Samarkand, 647 in Bukhara, 523 in Khiva, 378 at Urgench Fortresses
Number of cars taken: 29 (cabs, mostly)
Number of guesthouses/hostels: 10
Number of hotels: 1
Number of other American travelers we’ve met: 3 (two traveling male friends starting law school soon and one very interesting woman traveling solo for over a year

When traveling you get to met people from every walk of life with all kinds of beliefs ranging from the mundane to the insane.  In Samarkand one evening, Mike and I were sitting on the benches in front of the Registan people watching. We watched dozens of people try to sneak in without paying, all but two were caught by the guards. While we were watching an eight year old boy and his two friends walked by, the most flamboyant of them walked past, stared at me and said, “hello, baby!” We burst out laughing, but the boy was not amused, he took a seat next to Mike and proceeded to talk to him in Jar-Jar Binks tones, not saying anything but rather making noise, all the while he winked and nodded his chin at me.

In Kashgar, Xinjiang we were sitting in the courtyard enjoying the local tea when a very sick looking French man approached us and reported that he was recently quarantined in a hospital for people with suspicious illnesses. He then stuck out his hand for us to shake.

In the tomb of Tamerlane in Samarkand I was sitting alone in the corner trying to ease drop on a local woman giving a guided tour to an elderly man in English. A young girl came up to the old man and asked where he was from, whereupon he launched into the following: “I’m from a tiny island called Britian. We are a monarchy, our queen is the only queen and she rules many countries.” The little girl walked away and I burst out laughing again while the Uzbek guide glared at me.

In Urumqi we were taking a break in the hostel one rainy afternoon and put in a DVD while we were doing some writing. A young man traveling from Israel sat down to watch with us. We were watching, ‘Charlie Wilson’s War.’ At the end the man asked what we thought of American policy back then.

In Kashgar we were sitting at John’s Café after arriving, having starved on the train for want of variety. We encountered two Australians eating alone who invited us to join them. Conversation twisted and turned, but throughout we discovered that the two Aussies had travelled the globe in the 40 years on the planet, including 3 separate excursions to Antarctica.

Walking down the streets of Samarkand a local with all gold teeth approached us and said, “hey guys, where ya from?” We were so shocked to hear English with an African American accent come from this man that we stopped dead in our tracks. He looked straight at Mike and said, “yeah man, I used to live in New York, I drove a Cadillac. P.I.M.P, man…. Yeah, I had lots of black friends.” He actually spelled out pimp. Here is the clincher- he is the city’s foremost English instructor. Perhaps he taught the eight year old to greet women with a feisty “hello baby!” and a wink.
Also in Samarkand we met two Spaniards biking from Spain to south-east Asia by land. These interesting folks had really seen the countryside, the cities and were doing an A-rate, year-long trip. There is no funny story here, but this folks were just plain fun to talk to and hang out with. They had met an Italian economist who we spent dinner with the following night, another very interesting fellow.

Sitting at the hostel for breakfast one morning we met a man of about 27-29 who was living in Samarkand for a year cataloging the archives at the regional museum. He spoke Uzbek, Russian, English and could read Arabic and Persian. He was the most quintessentially British person I’d ever met, because although it was 90 degrees outside he was wearing a button-down shirt and a sweater vest.

We have met several other, very interesting people on the trip so far, this is just a taste of the type of people one encounters when traveling the world. Its amazing the stories we hear and the lives some people lead and these are the moments that make one realize that our lives are so much more than everybody’s quest for life insurance and a good job.

Yarkand Blacksmith in Old Town

Although our time was limited, I did not want to leave out our day trip from Kashgar to Yarkand. Albeit a late entry, Yarkand was a significant city and part of the southern silk road pass around the Taklimakan desert. We purchased tickets at the long distance bus station in Kashgar for the 3 1/2 hour ride to Yarkand on the outskirts of the Taklimakan Desert. This bus drove around Kashgar for over an hour looking for people for the one-way trip through the scorching desert basin between Kashgar and Yarkand. Rumbling along while listening to Chinese and Uyghur songs on repeat, we were surprised to see that the railroad was being extended from Kashgar to Yarkand. Migrant workers were digging up the desert in preparation for laying the rails.

I checked Marco Polo’s description of Yarkand and it was, like several other entries…brief. The most memorable statement he noted about Yarkand was that he was surprised by the large population suffering from goiter (a swelling of the Thyroid caused by a lack of iodine in the diet). I did not notice any issues several hundred years later as surprisingly, Yarkand looks similar to other modernized Chinese cities. As we pulled into the bus station, I was hoping to see rolling sand dunes and bazaars, but was disappointed as I saw paved roads and cars. Instead, Yarkhand was a moderately well-developed Chinese city. More than half of the population was Han Chinese and there was a large PLA (People’s Liberation Army) base in the North central part of town.

Yarkand can easily be seen in about one day. The gem of the city is the central mosque, which is located right next to the Old Town. There was more starring going on here than other places we had been recently and it was not surprising that these people didn’t see too many foreigners coming through. After seeing the parts of Old Town in Kashgar destroyed, it was refreshing to see that it will live on in Yarkand. Around the corner from the Mosque, there was a thriving Old Town bazaar. One can see rows of blacksmiths fashioning metal tools, furniture, birdhouses, and a variety of goods; most of this done in a way similar to several hundred years ago. Not much has changed since in this part of town.

Our return bus ride somehow took 5 hours, making it a pretty long day trip, but I would highly recommend going to Yarkand – especially if you appreciate the bazaar and the Old Town of Kashgar. Maybe one day we will return and cross the entire southern route of the Silk Road around the Taklamakan. Perhaps we may return through Kyrgyzstan or Tajikistan.

Lamb kebabs – Urumqi, Xinjiang. Urumqi has an amazing night market near the park with beer, kebabs, nan, plov and other Central Asian treats.

Pizza – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. There is a locally owned Pizza cafe called Bistro in Tashkent with amazing pizza, good beer and outdoor seating.

Coffee – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. This is on the list at everyone else’s request as I don’t drink coffee. Cafe Jum is the best spot in Central Asia for an espresso.

Spiced Tea – Kashgar, Xinjiang. We ran into a man mixing tea in buckets by the mosque in Old Town. Amazing spices and knock-you-out tea.

Nan – Almaty, Kazakhstan. This is, by far, the best bread I’ve ever head, and it is totally different from Xinjiang nan.

Battered califlower – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. Steamed, and then battered and fried. Creative and savory.

Fatush – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. This Lebbonese salad is a mix of tomato, califlower, tortilla and vinigar. Amazing.

Donar Kebab – Almaty, Kazakhstan. The best donar this side of the Tian Shan.

Goat milk yoghurt – Kashgar, Xinjiang. Mixed with sugar and served ice cold.

Zoom!

The Statistics Are In
7 Cities
4 Trains
3 Countries
2 Buses
2 broken backpacks
1 Car
$ 464 USD Per person (3,175 RMB)*
11,896 miles
Shanghai to Tashkent
Twenty days

*20 Days of normal living in Shanghai = 3,573 RMB ($523 USD)

We took the 11:58pm train from Urumqi to Almaty, a 36 hour adventure across the Chinese border to Kazakhstan. Arriving early (as is my custom) we waiting outside a bit before being allowed into the terminal. You can only bring 36kg on board the train, and everyone’s bags were weighed, X-rayed and probed at the station. Once on board (car 5, room 6, bunks 23 and 24) we discovered that this was the nicest train we’d ever been on in China. The bunks actually left enough room for you to sit up straight and the hooks were facing up, instead of down and the toilet actually flushed! We fell asleep almost immediately and slept well because the rooms have doors (another improvement)!

At 7:00am I awoke knowing I should get up before we got to the border. I must have fallen back asleep because promptly at 9:00am a Chinese military official swung open the door to our room and motioned me off my bed. Thirty seconds later, when I was still blinking away sleep he came back and motioned again, a bit less humored than before. A second uniformed set of officers came in after the military cleared out. These men (in blue) collected our passports and put them in a metal briefcase and then sauntered off to a nearby building. After a moment, a third string of officials came through. These I did not recognize.

A Chinese official in white and blue walked up to Mike and held a small, white machine up to his forehead. It displayed a red dot directly above and between his eyes. Another official did the same thing to the woman across from Mike in her bunk. No one seemed perturbed by this. I was a bit terrified though, and when the guy came at me with the mystery devise I jerked back until he started laughing and pulled a thermometer out of the inside of the machine to demonstrate that he was only taking my temperature. Apparently (and, my guess would be from fear and paranoia) my temperature was a bit high. No kidding, officer?! He saw that we were American and then began to freak out a bit, he pulled out extra thermometers and made us stick them under our arms. The lady in our cabin motioned for us to remove them when he turned his back, so we did. When they came back they were at 36 and 37 degrees and then, suddenly, the officer spoke. I responded in Chinese and he nervously laughed, “I didn’t know you understood!” after a pause he added, “Excuse me, do you have the swine flu?” We said no, and a group of five officers showed up to listen to our story. We explained that we had been living in China since December and thus had not been in proximity to Mexico.

I’m impressed, honestly, with the way the government organized for mass border health checks including training the officers and explaining the origins of the flu. They did it professionally and quickly, and targeted the correct people for further inspection. I applaud. Its no small thing to halt a pandemic, and the government does away with PC measures to get stuff done.

After the swine flu check we had a baggage check. Here, I give a one thumb up, one thumb down. The Chinese guards only searched our bags and no one else’s. They made a big show of making us unpack every item in our bags. I suppose it is their job, but while we were showing them how an electronic toothbrush works the lady in our cabin was subtly kicking a duct-tapped bag under her bed. Whatever she was transporting was not 100% legit.

We finally chugged along only to stop five minutes later while they changed the wheels. Apparently Russian tracks are not the same distance apart as Chinese tracks, and this means all the wheels have to be replaced when entering Kazakhstan (also true with Russia and Mongolia).

Now to go through Kazakh customs. While the Chinese side had been entirely large, intimidating but finely groomed males the Kazakh customs officials were petite, gorgeous women in fish-net stocking, mini skirts and fluffy white blouses. A brunette came directly to our cabin and batted her big brown eyes, “You are American?” she asked. Mike nearly fell over himself as his jaw dropped and I responded, “yes.” She told us to give up our passports and show our bags to her friend, a red-head in a shorter skirt and more elaborate fish-net stockings. Mike responded with, “whatever you say!” and they walked away. However, after two hours of waiting, much to Mike’s disappointment they never came back. A burley alcoholic-smelling man came to return our passports and, after picking up new Kazakhs we headed on towards Almaty after one very successful and ultimately hassle free border crossing.

A Hospital

Having decided months ago to avoid going through Kyrgyzstan because of reported troubles foreigners were having at the Chinese-Kyrgyz border, we found ourselves last week in Kashgar. We took a two day trip out to Tashkurgan on the Tajik-China border which was apparently equidistance from Kashgar as the Kyrgz-China pass. We met two travelers from Australia (“Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oui, Oiu, Oui!”) who had already attempted the crossing once only to find the pass closed without explanation from either side. They tried again the next day and we never saw or heard from them again, which probably means they are in Kyrgyzstan. We have heard rumors across the traveling community that it is a difficult move to make, with a pick-up required at the border by a certified Bishkek or Osh agency. We decided while still in Shanghai to avoid the headache and simply backtrack. It was not until we got to Xinjiang that we realized the backtrack was over 24 hours in length and requiring a great deal more money that was amusing, as well as a bit more irony and, once again, we would find ourselves waiting in Urumqi (as we did for a week in 2006).

Having spent our last day in Kashgar walking around Old Town and then enjoying a fine dining experience at Fubar, our favorite home-away-from home in Kashgar, we hopped the daily 3:20 to Urumqi, an overnighter that lands in Urumqi at 3:30 exactly. Our train was running two hours early so they pulled off the tracks for two hours to arrive on time. Very efficient!

Back in Urumqi, we easily acquired tickets for the train on the evening of the 16^th. We were incredibly lucky. We bought a 3 day transit visa through Kazakhstan from the 17^th to the 20^th. Our midnight train put us at the Kazakh border at exactly 9am on the 17^th, we could not have planned it better if we had actually, ya know- bothered to plan.

In Urumqi between the 14^th and the 16^th we spent a peaceful and quiet few days in one of our favorite cities walking around the parks, eating local cuisine and relaxing at the hostel. On the 14^th we went, with a friend from the hostel, to the Uyghur Wuyi Night Market. We arrived a bit early and watched as everyone set up their mini stalls. A sudden and severe flash storm swept through the market, causing customers to hide in nearby stores (as we did) and vendors to pack up their raw meat and head home. The next evening, the 15^th, we went back to see what the market was like without lightening and terror and had a lovely meal of lamb, nan (bread), and kabab veggies. The 16^th rolled around quickly, and we packed and headed for our train eagerly awaiting our trip to Kazakhstan and our border crossing.

The Best and the Worst – so far.
Here are a list of the best places along the route and their contact information, we highly recommend these establishments and, unfortunately, received no knock-backs for passing on the good word.

Fubar, Kashgar branch.
This place is amazing! It is the only foreigner-run eatery in Kashgar, and their attention to detail meant that nothing was left undone. Here we dined on Pizza, Gin&Tonics and played board games. Conveniently located in central Kashgar, all the cab drivers know the spot. After multiple days in the desert, this oasis is worth the visit.

Kashgar Old Town Hostel.
This hostel was once a mosque, now converted into a multi-room dorm house with 6 or 8 beds per room. The Chinese youth who runs the place is a wealth of information and has great local contacts if you are looking for travel information. We definitely recommend staying here over the Semen Hotel, as rooms are 35RMB a night rather than 150. Meanwhile, the location is primo- a 5 minute walk from Edgar Mosque in central Old Town.

MaiTian Youth Hostel.
Located near Renmin Park in Urumqi, the Maitian youth hostel is a bit more rugged than others but for 40RMB a night it is passable. A bit pricey for what you get (6,8 bed gender-divided dorm rooms) the place has a decent location and is a wealth of information. The Chinese running the place seem hesitant to be helpful and are dismissive of any problems, but if you are a survivalist, this is a good spot to sojourn a few nights. Just be aware that the staff run this place like their personal club house and will be on the internet at all hours (rendering it useless) and screaming up and down the halls when they get on duty (promptly at 8).

Windows Scoreboard, Shanghai, China.
I am hesitant to write about this gem because I do not want it flooded with tourists. However, if you want a taste of home check out this hard-to-find windows location on HuaiHai lu (Near Sinan Lu). The lowest prices of any bar in China and a great atmosphere with a mixed crowd of Chinese, Thai, Western and African. A beer will set you back 10RMB.

The Worst:

And, sadly, here are a list of establishments to be avoided, and explanations as to why they definitely do not rock.

Fubar, Urumqi branch.

Old Mosque Youth Hostel

While the Kashgar branch rocks, this one is located on a bar street and competes with other, better equipped bars. Meanwhile, their serve a lousy pour, the staff are rude, loud and negligent, and the published address all over the internet is not correct. Meanwhile, they were without power when we arrived and had a noisy generated sitting, chained, to the front door as a back-up plan.

Silver (White) Birches Youth Hostel, Urumqi, China.
This shoddy establishment was hard to find and quite a jaunt from the train and bus stations, and from the airport. Once you finally arrive you will be disappointed by the piles of trash and dirt that occupy every corner, and the scurrying cock-roaches that act as permanent residents of the bathrooms and dorm rooms. The beds are hard and sheets and blankets are not guaranteed. Meanwhile, you will be close to a park, but nothing else in the city and will spend money on buses or cabs for transportation. Better to stay somewhere closer to downtown that is not infested with insects. Also, this hostel is in the running for ‘worst bathroom in China.’

Captain Hostel on the Bund, Shanghai, China.
This hostel, while nice enough, was massively overpriced. Located on the famous ‘bund’ are of Shanghai, we could not contest the price based on the better-than-expected location, but the service was horrible, there were few additional benefits like laundry, and the location meant a very noisy night. For one night, it was okay but we would not recommend multiple evenings here.

U-Cool Hostel, Shanghai, China.
While the lovely woman who runs the establishment is friendly and sweet, the hostel itself leaves much to be desired. The 6-8 bed dorm rooms are 40RMB a night and there is nothing in the way of additional services like a laundry facility, internet or a bar. We stayed here two weeks (out of necessity and because the owner, Anna, was very friendly, but we missed out on meeting new people and having entertainment. On the up side the location near the Bund was fantastic. Be prepared to spend your time in this hostel with Anna and her two sons as a partial baby-sitter.

Tashkurgan Stone City - Princess Fortress

At the end of a tree-lined street, we stopped at an old clay fortress. We discovered that it was over 1300 years old. Middle Eastern / Central Asia in design, the fortress stood watch over a beautiful green valley. It was easy to envision the structure being the only building in the area protecting the furthest boundaries of various dynasties or empires. After getting some pictures on the fort, I turned to look at the Pamirs. It was almost crazy to imagine that just over that range was Afghanistan. The valley below the fortress was full of small huts and streams going through the lumps of green sod. We ventured out into the valley and found that all of the streams were fed by bubbling springs all over the valley. A quaint wooden bridges arched over several sections of the stream so herders could cross their fields. We then collected some food and water and headed back for Kashgar.

After several hours on the road again, seeing the same scenery – which was equally beautiful in reverse – our driver suddenly jerked the wheel off the road. We started a bumpy ride toward a massive mountain range across a small desert. Initially, I thought we were just going off-road a little ways to get a picture. After about 15 -20 minutes though, it was pretty clear that we were going all the way to the mountains. Somewhat of an unscheduled stop, the driver turned around smiling and said, “We are going to that peak right there. You can see some ice.” At least that is what I got in Chinese. The road got even worse and we started jumping rocks and small boulders with the jeep. And by “road” I mean middle of nowhere randomly driving across a desert.

After an hour or so, we started inching our way up and down hills and valleys to find a safe pass to the mountain range.

Suddenly, the driver dropped the jeep into a rocky Spring melt river bank. The jeep immediately became stuck in the snow. Everyone exited the vehicle, and started to help the driver dig it out. I was wondering, “Are we going to spend the night up here because, even if we do get it out of the snow, how do we get out of the river bank?” However, to my amazement we got back in the jeep and continued across the boulders and rocks. The driver was insistent that he drive us to where we needed to be. We requested that he stop so we can hike up the rest of the way. With a sigh of disgust, he stopped in the bank and we hiked for about 1 ½ hours to the edge of a glacier.

The landscape was beautiful. A beautiful white glacier was dipping into a valley between the mountains. We climbed around the glacier and took pictures for a while. Looking around in the other directions was equally amazing. Looking at the towering peaks above us, the clouds swirl by so quickly. However, maybe I was just dizzy as we were now well over 4800 meters or about 3 miles above sea level. As I turned West, there were dust devils whirling in the desert and a snow storm approaching through the middle. We quickly made our decent and headed back to the jeep. It took us about 30 minutes to build up a rock ladder for the jeep to get out of the melt bank. I am glad we did not blow a tire or hook the frame on a rock. It would have been a very cold way to end it all, but at least the scenery was nice. We eventually made it through a small sand storm and were back on the road to Kashgar.

We have a video but it will not upload, we will do our best to add it soon.

If you are interested in doing a trip like this from Kashgar, it will talk about 1 full day from Kashgar to Lake Karakul, and then another day to Tashkurgan, the glacier, and back to Kashgar around 9 or 10 at night. Don’t forget to bring your passport as there was at least one document check before we got to Lake Karakul. There were several Chinese police stations policing this “Autonomous” Tajik Region of Xinjiang, China, so there may be more checks in the future.

This morning, after a bout of food poisoning which rendered us useless and hostel-bound yesterday, we decided to check out the famous Kashgar Sunday Market. According to our hostel owner/Kashgar guru the Sunday Market swells the city’s population by 50,000 people once a week. This morning, however, was a different story because of a freakishly random and intense rain storm which flooded part of the city and overturned potted plants and rattled the fragile wooden shutters.

We took the number 8 bus from the Old Town Mosque to the last stop on the line, which was 200m from the market…. across a giant puddle the size of one of the Great Lakes. After skirting the giant flooded road (effectively covering my black pants in yellowish-brown mud and clay) we found the Sunday market partially deserted. Apparently the rain and flooding was enough to scare away many an eager merchant.

The folks who did turn up were mostly selling livestock. We found a certain breed of sheep quite foreign to us, and a bit bizarre. The sheep had human-looking butts, no joke. They were pink, plump, and hanging off of the body of the sheep where a tail should be, almost like baboon butts. Buyers were inspecting the sheep’s teeth, utters, and then lifting and groping the plumpness of the sheep’s hind quarters, which were substantial.

Walking past the bizarre-butt sheep I nearly fell when my foot slipped on something atop the mud and water. I looked down and gasped to discover I had stepped on a goat’s ear that was attached to a goat’s head, but that is where the attachments ended- there was simply a pile of goat heads on the ground and I had managed, somehow, to step on it.

After jumping goat-ear-foot first into a puddle to rinse my shoes of the goat’s blood I turned to find Mike peering through a gateway into a giant field of mud and poo that was sectioned off into stalls where, on one side people were selling baked goods and spices and on the other selling big-butt sheep, goats and cattle. Strangely enough, amid the swine flu, there was an entire truck loaded down with large, pink pigs. Swine flu paranoia is at its height in Kashgar, with one French resident of our hostel having been forcefully quarantined at the local hospital for having a fever.

After slipping on severed head and watching people grope sheep butt we

decided it was time to eat. Still a bit quasy from the food poisoning (and raw meat and heads lying about) we decided to head to the only western place in town, the Fubar Cafe. We arrived and instantly felt like we were back in the states, a pool table was the center piece of this establishment, with a wall of board games, a bar and several menus that made my mouth water. We pulled out the risk game where we proceeded to play 5 full games (we were there about five full hours as well, as a result) while eating pizza and hamburgers and drinking captain cokes. When you are away from your homeland’s food and feeling ill, there is nothing quite as satisfying as something recognizable.

We spent the rest of the evening and well into the night walking around Old Town bazaars and getting lost (intentionally) in the old back alleys. The Old Town section of Kashgar is fading quickly, with some recent reports indicating that a full 2/3rds of the area has been leveled in the last two weeks. There is destruction all around us and I honestly think this place will be gone within the next two years, if not sooner. It is one of the nicest and most lively neighborhoods I’ve ever seen, and that makes this a real shame.

In central Old Town there rests an ancient mosque (build in 1442) that has been repaired countless times and currently remains one of the largest active mosques in China. We decided to take a peek at this ancient relic of religion.

After walking around a bit in the late afternoon on our way to the mosque we encountered a very lively group of men and women huddled around a man selling tea. The various herbs and spices were laid out in small silver bowls surrounding the man’s feet and he chanted about the health benefits of each herb as he poured small amounts of each into newspaper. He mixed the herbs and flowers and spices together and sold a bag the size of a softball for 5Rmb. We watched, amazed, for about ten minutes before I was convinced (though I understand no Uyghur) of the health benefits. We bought a bag at once before setting off to the mosque.

The mosque itself is open to everyone, though there was not a single other woman inside. All foreigners have to pay 20Rmb to see inside, so we dished out some coin before we were allowed past the first set of guards. I was intimidated by the openness inside the mosque walls. The interior was a large garden with several praying rooms, all facing East. We walked to the most eastern wall where there was a rug from 1570 hanging on the wall and a small throne with a Koran and clocks that showed the time on every continent (for call to prayer). There were other items as well, but I’m not sure what they were for. It was five to five in the afternoon when a man with a heavy beard and dark eyes motioned to us and ushered us into the garden where a mass of people had gathered. Everyone looked at my uncovered head (I had forgotten my scarf) and at my legs, which were in pants and not the required skirt that is customary in Kashgarian women. I felt embarrassed, but I’m not sure why now that I look back. Several very old men approached me and looked at my eyes, hair and legs before walking past and talking quietly with their companions. I was too shy to take any pictures of a place of worship so Mike had been walking around with the camera. It was something I’ve always wanted to see and experience, but if you plan on doing likewise don’t forget your head wrap or else be prepared for stares!

karakul

Lake Karakul, situated along the breathtaking Tian Shan Tajik-China border, is one of the most stunning and awe-inspiring spots on the whole of the planet. Standing in absolute silence atop a hill looking over Lake Karakul one is struck by how startling silence can be in the face of such massive and absolute mountain peaks, a turquoise lake surrounded by sand dunes and not a soul or creature in sight.

But getting to the lake required a near torturous traverse of the mighty mountain range. After finally falling asleep the night before at 3am, we awoke at 8am to meet our guide. Our guide was a Uyghur man who spoke fluent Mandarin; he smoked like a chimney, smells of bai jiu (liquor) and when he opened his mouth at least a few curses stumbled out before any nouns or verbs. We had heard that there was a driver with a 4X4 who had two people going to Lake Karakul and if we jumped on board we’d get a discount. We agreed the night before to 300RMB for the entire two day trip. The guide grabbed our bags and told us to load up. When we reached the Jeep, we found a Chinese couple already situated inside. Climbing in, we introduced ourselves and the lady responded with, “what do Americans think of Tibet?” Not wanting to get into a diatribe that early in the morning, I politely responded that most Americans, ourselves included, had not been there so we could not accurately form an opinion until after we had. She wrinkled her nose and launched into the most long-winded Tibet-bashing session I’ve ever listened to. She explained that the warm-hearted Chinese kindly donated their tax money so the Tibetans did not have to have jobs, they just laid in the sun all day and practiced their selfish (because you personally strive for Nirvana) religion. She went on and on about how lazy Tibetans are and then, in a shocking turn of events, she said that if the Dali Lama were to come back to China, “the Tibetans would be as if Negros.” I thought I misheard, so I asked her to repeat that last part and she said, “you know, like in America, the Negro.” The man in the back seat turned red and said, “I think she means ‘slave’.” So, I told her I would visit and make my own opinions about the region and then turned to stare, shocked, at Mike.

The man in the back seat, a pull-down jumper seat, was named Jason, a Chinese former cell phone company CEO. He was decked out in survival gear from head to two, all of which was brand new (his scarf still had the price tag). He was very friendly and spoke fluently in English and Mandarin.

Thus situated, we set off towards the Lake. The guide, in a fit of curses and Uyghur, screeched off the road after having stopped twice within the first hour to buy food, and ran into a field, disappearing into the bush. A few moment later he sprinted out of the grass and we screeched, going 60, into open traffic. He laughed and opened his pockets and passed out tiny green fruits that proved to be sour, tart and spicy all at once.

After several hours of bumping along we pulled off the road to the Kyrgyz Glacier Retreat, where, for 50RMB, we were obliged to hike a mile up the side of a hill to view a dying glacier. The glacier was pitch black, having accumulated dirt and rocks as it pushed its way down the mountain.

Back in the car hours later we continued down the winding, bolder-covered road until we came to a massive valley surrounded by snow-topped peaks. A single stream cut through the valley, attracting sheep, goats, camels and wild horses. We stopped to stare in awe for several moments before the driver began cursing and urging us good-naturedly on our way.

By 5:00pm we rounded a curve in the road and Lake Karakul came into view. Pulling off the road we stopped at a small Kyrgyz yurt camp where one family owned several yurts which they rented to passers-by. We paid 50RMB a night, which included dinner and breakfast. The wife was a friendly-eyed woman of 40 who looked 60. She was never still for a moment as she busied herself with cooking, knitting, cleaning or tending to th yaks, children, dogs, guests and her husband. The husband, also appearing to be in his 60s, was hospitable and friendly, and immediately showed us his small black and white TV – obviously something he was very proud of. He also pointed at the wooden ceiling to show us he had recently acquired electricity. His daughter, around 9 years old, keenly watched my every move. When I sat cross-legged on the rugged floor she copied my posture, when I drank tea holding the cup with two hands, she followed suit. Their two sons, about 4 and 2, were outside the yurt playing with two puppies. Meanwhile, the husband’s father was walking aimlessly around the lake, stopping frequently to watch a hawk or pet a camel – he was well into his 90s, if not older.

Wife made us a nice dinner or plov (rice, yak and apricots) with yak milk tea and nan (bread). We eat heartily, having not eaten since the morning. Wife then laid five sets of blankets on the floor for us and indicated that it was now time for sleep. We all crawled into our makeshift piles of blankets and, after listening to a donkey braw for sevel hours, fell calmly and serenly to sleep listening to the waves of Lake Karakul.

Old Town Doorway

We spent the day today walking around the Old Town districts of Kashgar. Around the mosque, one of the largest in China, were rows of marketers selling a variety of local hand-made wares. Across the street we entered the bazaar and were in awe as all Chinese aspects of the city disappeared and stalls of herbs, fruits, nuts, and spices covered the streets ahead. It was almost as though we were on the silk road again, which Marco Polo and Aurel Stein spoke of in such great detail. We walked for hours in what is most easily described as a photographers dream. Children ran up to us in the streets and alleys asking us to take their picture and then show it to them.

Around 7:00 this evening we experienced a large sand storm that engulfed all of Kashgar. People were running around the streets, shop owners closed their stores, and I got a fist full of sand in my eyes. There is some video of this, but we are having some issues with the Internet capabilities. There are still some really strong winds and I just heard the sound of several pieces of pottery breaking outside as a gust of wind blew them off their perch. If it is this bad in the city right now, I can not imagine what it is like in the Taklamakan.

Tomorrow we are taking a bus down / up the Karakorum Highway, which goes along the the border of several of the “Stans” and we will spend the night at Lake Karakul in a ger or yurt. The Karakorum has come highly recommended to us by our friends as well as a few fellow travelers we have met along the way. It will be a great photo opportunity as the highway will take us well over 3000 meters into the mountains. The last leg of this two day journey will take us to the base of the border with Pakistan. Apparently, we can stand next to a disgruntled member of the Chinese border security with one foot in Pakistan.

Mr. Friendly in Alley

As our night train rolled in from Urumqi today (24 hour sleeper train), we came upon a very Chinese station platform. Although I had not awoken to the rolling sand dunes of the Great Taklamakan that I had dreamed of, there was an ocean of a desert that spread as far as the eye could see. We found a driver to take us into town and found a nice hostel in Old Town near the local Mosque.

Xinjiang province was predominantly Uighur until the last 5-10 years as Han Chinese were integrated into the region. The Uighur are a combination of Central Asian Kazak, Tajik, Uzbek, and Mongolian – they are also a Islamic culture. The 2500 + kilometers of desert preceding, slowly faded into a lush desert oasis tucked away in between the Taklamakan Desert and the Himalayas.

We walked around the surrounding alleys leading to the centralized Mosque for hours taking several great pictures.  The 500 year old city wall, which used to surround Kashgar is literally a 3 minute walk from where we are.  It is amazing that anyone could send an army out here to conquer anything, but Russia and China have throughout the past.  In the next few days we will take a camel tour into the Taklamakan Desert and take a bus up the Karakorum Highway.

If you are interested in staying here:

233 Wusitangboyi Road – it is very difficult to find, but most taxi drivers know the street and you just have to find the random unnamed alley ways to this destination.  It is near the Edgar Mosque and West Renmin Road and has two large red doors with a very small “Youth Hostel” sign on the doorway.  I will update later with more information if I can.

Kashgar

We arrived in Urumqi, Xinjiang,at exactly 4:10pm today (right on time) after a 48 hour train ride across China. From here we have purchased tickets to Kashgar for tomorrow at noon, and will arrive in the city around noon the next day (24 hour train through the Taklamakan Desert). From there we have no plan, but need to be in Kazakhstan between the 17th – 20th. We hope to spend quite a bit of the next 15 days in and around Kashgar where Mike hopes to get the famous dry-shave that Tim to heartily recommended.

The train ride was an amazing experience, and one of the best train rides we’ve ever taken. A Uyghur man and his wife were in the bunk below us and the man proceeded to play his violin into the evening as a small community of Uyghurs gathered in our car to sing along, suggest songs, and listen. The man, upon hearing we were American, played some Western songs for us, including Wagner and Gershwin.  We were fortunate to be in such a great car for such a long trip. On previous journeys we have had crying babies or spitting businessmen on their cell phones well into the night. A small boy was on the train with us and he did not cry the entire trip (as I would have done at age 2). Instead, he ran around the car making friends with everyone and sitting on every lap in the car. At one point he defecatedin the only sink in our car, but his mother lovingly fixed the problem with her only towel….which she then washed in the sink and used to bathe the child. At any rate, he was a happy boy and he cheered up the long trip.

Urumqi is as we remember it – a cosmopolitan city bustling with movement. It seems everyone here has luggage and is on the move. We have only this evening to spend in the city, so will head back to the Uyghur night market. Having spent ten days in this city in 2006 I am not upset that we cannot spend longer now, but it is a lovely place.

Of minor inconvenience, my original backpack broke on day one of the trip. I replaced the bag in Shanghai with another that broke this afternoon. The damage is not total, and because I am my father’s daughter I had enough rope and caribineers to fix the problem.

We have my guitar along on the trip, and I hope to improve quite a bit as we travel. Tonight we’re re-stringing the guitar with nylon strings so I can really learn the Spanish guitar songs I love so much. Watch out Gypsy Kings!