On the Silk Road: Chronicles of a Sixty-Something Traveling Completely Independently (page 2 of 4)

Hello, I found all this super interesting! But, given the numerous checks, I had a practical question: do you need a special visa for this kind of route? (I know there are small differences between France and Belgium, but it’s often quite similar, so it could still be useful for me...) Anyway, since I’m planning to do the Silk Road in a few years, this is exactly the kind of account that gives a more concrete perspective on this type of trip. Thanks for sharing!

No special visa, just a passport with the correct entry visa, of course. Whatever you do, don’t lose it. The taxi driver taking us to the border took it for checks and left us in a parking lot in Wuqia. He disappeared for over an hour, and we started to panic. But he eventually came back. The same thing happened in Tashkurgan. What can happen is a border crossing closing unexpectedly—it’s rare, but it does happen without warning. I had a backup plan for Kashgar, just in case. But to get to Osh, we had to take a flight to Urumqi, then to Almaty, and then Bishkek!

All the women and children were wearing very colorful traditional clothing—it seemed like an ordinary day; I didn’t notice any local festival. I wonder if that’s always the case?

The Pamiri women in Tashkorgan refused, and even feared, my modest camera.

Fabrice

I must’ve hit the jackpot with that one 🙂 https://www.dropbox.com/sh/q8xp1irgyfbp8wc/AADldGsuC7HYzfqTUERc_lRIa?dl=0&preview=IMG_20180904_190152.jpg

Nice photo.

I’ll admit I’m not too pushy about taking photos.

Fabrice

Hello,

Thanks for this travel journal.

The section on Xinjiang really caught my interest. It's terrifying and absolutely heartbreaking. The steamroller, unfortunately, still has a long way to go. The bulldozer, though, has already done its work... Does the livestock market that used to be held in Kashgar's old town still exist?

Edith Roux recently photographed it—her work is incredibly moving:

http://www.actuart.org/article-edith-roux-les-depossedes-115106500.html

L.

Does the livestock market that used to be held in the old town of Kashgar still exist?

L.

It was moved a long time ago, about ten kilometers away. It’s still a must-see—just as authentic as ever, definitely worth checking out. But so many photographers now!

No special visa, just the passport with the entry visa, of course. Whatever you do, don’t lose it. The taxi taking us to the border took it for checks and left us in a parking lot in Wuqia. He disappeared for over an hour, and we started to freak out. But he eventually came back. The same thing happened in Tashkurgan, actually. What can happen is a border post closing. It’s rare, but it does happen without warning. I’d planned a backup solution for Kashgar, just in case. But to get to Osh, I had to take a flight to Urumqi, then to Almaty, then Bishkek!

Awesome, thanks for the details!

Thanks for the clarification. I never imagined it was to that extent. So, that puts my crush into perspective, kind of like with the Uzbek cities. Let's give the Chinese credit for being really skilled at reconstruction.

Kashgar in August 2015. The remains of the old city were still quite visible but in a "ruins" state.

The story is cheerful and fun to follow! Thanks for posting it. Did you happen to see what a Tajik primary school or middle school looks like? What’s it like?

No, we would’ve loved to, but we didn’t ask. We saw lots of schools, but only from the outside.

Photo album from the 80s Photos sent by Jipeg (Jean-Pierre and Jacqueline)

Thanks for these great reports. I’ll add a few memories and photos from the summer of 1995, when we crossed from northern Pakistan into China via the Kunjerab Pass. The climb was serious, but the view was breathtaking. A raging torrent had washed away a large section of the road—something that happens often. For several hours, workers placed big rocks into wire-mesh cages and tossed them into the torrent so vans and trucks could forge a path. Plenty of time to make new acquaintances. Tashgorgan: a disastrous hotel. “No shower,” came the curt, blunt reply from an unfriendly receptionist. Sure enough, the single dilapidated stall in a dim hallway was filled with random debris and broken furniture. The taps around it didn’t work either. It would take more than that to faze our grouchy hostess. The next morning: blaring government loudspeakers echoed through the city. People on the street seemed used to it. Some women wore tall, colorful headdresses. Time to move on. Kashgar: friendly locals, a packed mosque on Friday, a dominant yellow hue from the sandstorm, the old town still charming with its stalls, eateries, small trades, and of course the famous Sunday market.

Kashgar (a few more photos). Another trip: In 2000, we crossed China all the way to Beijing from Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan by bus, train, and every local transport available. Urumqi, Turfan, the vineyards and old villages, the majestic Mogao Caves in Dunhuang, the Great Wall and its fort in Jiayuguan, the stunning monasteries in Xining and Xiahe, a detour to those in Langmusi, Lanzhou with its remarkable little bronze horses in the museum, and finally Beijing. The bus waiting rooms are very well designed, a bit like airports with boarding gates. In our Lonely Planet, the places are also written in Chinese, which makes things easier for us. We compare the destinations on the signs with the characters in our guide to avoid mistakes. Buses with bunks—more or less comfortable (no seats, just beds and quilts)—are great for long distances. While we met some friendly people in Zhangye, we also experienced the famous "méi yǒu" that travelers know all too well. The firm "méi yǒu" at the bus station ticket counter made it clear they refused to sell us tickets. Thinking there were no more seats, we asked again for the next day. Méi yǒu. We insisted, *méi yǒu*, got frustrated (even though you’re not supposed to raise your voice in China or make someone lose face). No common language, no one willing to help, and infuriating, stubborn officials. We blocked the counter. After a while, another employee fetched a dictionary, found the word "wait" (which was all we were doing), and in the end, they finally agreed to sell us four electronic tickets for the two of us. It was either that or she’d take them back. Tough stuff... When the bus attendant pointed us to the worst spots—no real bunk—we jumped on the best bed, buried ourselves under the quilt, and loudly declared, "We’ll only get out at bayonet point!" We’ve run into plenty of shady Chinese folks: the taxi driver who takes detours in every direction to jack up the fare. Too bad for him—Gérard has a compass (no maps back then) and a great sense of direction. The hotel owner who shows a slate with all the room prices. This one, the cheapest... *méi yǒu*. That one... *méi yǒu*. The hotel’s empty, but only the most expensive room is left. No way we were getting scammed. Big argument, and we won. If you’re not careful, you order a dish at a certain price, and when it’s time to pay... it’s more expensive. We got into the habit of paying when we ordered and, if possible, finding out how much locals were paying. On the flip side, some smiling locals helped us out. We’d gone to the wrong bus station. An employee explained it to us in Chinese. Gérard mimed that he didn’t speak or hear the language by covering his mouth and ears. She understood he was deaf and mute and then wrote the info... in Chinese. After some shared laughter, we were pointed in the right direction. Beijing... to be continued.

Since we're in Xinjiang, here are a few somewhat "political" photos of Kashgar from 2019

This series could be called "The Chinese Tourist Among Minorities"

- Among the Kazakhs in the Tian Shan





- Among the Uyghurs in Kashgar

In Kuqa, the second mosque in Xinjiang has become... not much







After leaving this mosque to wander around the old town (or what’s left of it before its imminent demolition), I was followed by a not-so-discreet police officer. The day before, I’d been stopped (also in the old town) for an ID check and had a few photos deleted; a police car had even followed me back to my hotel.

That’s Xinjiang for foreigners right now.

Thank you. Eye-opening and dramatic. The Uyghurs, if not deported, are reduced to folklore... it was still good back in 1985...

I wanted to write...back in 1995...

Thanks for the photos...

Thanks for the recent updates on Xinjiang, a place we knew well back in 1985 and 1988. The changes don’t surprise us—we saw them coming and noticed them throughout China, where we spent over three years in addition to several decades. Tensions between Uyghurs and Chinese were already very palpable back then. Uyghur bus drivers often refused to pick up Chinese passengers even when there was space, or to play Chinese music cassettes when students from Hong Kong—the rare tourists in the region at the time—asked them to. We’ve tried to find photos of the Kuqa mosque we visited during our stop in that small town on the way to see the Kizil Caves, but no luck... On the other hand, we do have photos of Urumqi from 1985 and 1988 showing the early stages of urbanization, much like in Lhasa...

Hello Sarana and Shishi, Now that we’ve figured out how to post photos on VF, here are some new ones from Kashgar in 1985 and 1988. First, photos of the exit after the Friday prayer at Id Kah Mosque. The men would leave the mosque between a guard of honor made up of women and little girls offering cakes and teapots. All they did was blow on them... Does anyone know the significance????

The big Sunday market was moved to the outskirts between those two dates. We even noticed it’s now covered... A few more photos to add to the previous ones.... You can tell the ethnicity by the headwear: Uyghurs, Tajiks, Kyrgyz...





At the livestock market, we were surprised by the transactions, which were done with hands hidden under coats, and the women took part in collecting the money (often Kyrgyz women—Uyghur women wore brown shawls)...

The knives from Yingjishah, not yet for tourists...