World of Wonders - Travel along the Silk Road

China’s Silk Road evokes images of ancient trading cities, and of caravans of camels winding through the desert, silouhetted against the sand of the dunes.

Nothing could be further from the truth. This age-old east-west goods route was once redolent of spice and luxurious in swathes of silk – now it is plied by millions of Chinese tourists and the odd foreigner, lured by ancient mysticism.

The Silk Road begins at Xian in Shaanxi province, but we make our first stop at the end of the Great Wall of China at Jiayuguan, located in rugged and barren Gansu province, geographically smack bang in the centre of China.

Snowcapped mountains provide a dramatic backdrop for our bicycle ride to the Jiayuguan Pass Fort, originally built in 1372, and dubbed the “Impregnable Defile Under Heaven”. Further on we climb a piece of the Great Wall rebuilt in 1987 by students who were paid one fen (1/4 of one Australian cent) for each brick laid!

We followed the Great Wall back through the desert, riding into the outskirts of town. Carefully tended vegetable patches, corn and cabbages, provided a more realistic glimpse into life in China than our visits to massive reconstructions!

Travelling west by bus the rugged mountains give way to desert, and our fellow passengers move uncomfortably in their seats, opening their windows wide as the temperature begins to rise.

Oasis takes a different meaning after travelling in the desert, as does the sanctity of life after travelling in China. Passing through an oasis city, our speeding bus clipped a child on a bicyle, leaving him sprawled out on the road behind us. Our driver ashen, stopped for a moment, but continued on nonplussed.

Dunhuang was a major trading city of the Silk Road, and is now famous for the superb Buddhist art found in the Mogao Caves. The caves are cut into the limestone cliff face, their interiors decorated in fascinating frescoes dating back nearly 2000 years.

By day, Chinese tourists troop in and out of the caves, at sunset making a visit to great sand dunes at Crescent Lake, returning to croon love songs at the copious karoake bars. Great neon arches over the main street flash incessantly, apparently to appeal to the unique taste of Chinese tourists!

Our bus out of Dunhuang typically cruises the streets touting for fares until we are full. The tawny desert is endless and flat. When our bus begins to slow, labouring as if going up a steep incline its clear we have problems! Our first stop allows the engine to stop boiling, on the second a handsome young man gestures for our water bottles which are promptly emptied into the radiator. On the third stop, we stay where we are in the middle of no where.

We have a train to catch, and desperately try to wave down vehicles that speed past in callous disregard. Finally, a flash Chinese tour bus slows, and the charming young man negotiates with the driver who won’t take locals, but finally agrees to take us because we are foreigners.

Meet a Chinese person and tell them that you are heading to Turpan, Urumqi or Kashgar and they will look at you blankly. With the audacity of a victor, they have converted the names of cities in the Xinjiang region to Chinese, meaning that the ethnic people “mispronounce” where they have lived for thousands of years!

We arrive at Turpan (Chinese – Tulufan) before a magnificent rich red desert sunrise at. Beds lining the streets and on the rooftops of the low mud brick houses are silhouetted against the sunrise.

Turpan is the hottest place in China, and the inhabitants attempt to escape the cloying inevitable heat in numerous ways. They are Uyghur people, the first of the Silk Road traders to settle down to agriculture in the fifth century CE. Of Turkish origin, physically they are different than the Chinese with dark features and a larger build.

To escape the sun’s killing bite and the searing midday heat, we do as the locals do, and rise early. We ride bikes through the poplar-lined streets awash in the amber glow of sunrise. Out of town, grape vines stretch as far as the eye can see, and understandably Turpan is the home of the tastiest grapes in all of China. We share the streets with donkey carts laden with scarved women and baskets to be filled during the day’s harvest.

We arrive at the ruins of Jiaohe City before the hoards of Chinese tourists descend in tour groups. The city was decimated by the armies of Ghenghis Khan about 700 years ago, but crumbling ancient walls still stand so that one can visualise a bustling, active city.

With three Hong Kong girls we bargain with a taxi to visit villages on the edge of the desert. An agricultural people, the Uyghurs continue to use ancient irrigation methods to bring life to this otherwise barren desert.

Now citizens of the People’s Republic of China the Hong Kong girls were once subjects of the Queen and can communicate with us but not their Uyghur countrymen, as few speak Chinese.

Wet juicy watermelon runs down our face and hands as we chomp on it in the moonlight in the Taklakman Desert. Sleeping on carpet on the great sandunes, the morning shows five very gritty women, a little worse for wear after an early morning sandstorm. Our Uyghur taxi driver left us there to battle it out, seeking refuge in his car!

The capital of Xinjiang Autonomous Region, Urumqi, has little to distinguish it from cities in the ‘mainland’ of China. We counted nearly 100 smokestacks from the Chinese pagoda that dominates the skyline, an ever-present reminder that this is China – not Central Asia as some Uyghurs would apparently prefer!

Millions of Han Chinese immigrants and several uprisings brutally squashed has meant that the potential Islamic time bomb in eastern China has so far been defused.

Travellers of yore would continue from Urumqi to exotic Kashgar, through the mountains and onto to Constantinople (Istanbul). Travellers today learn how many peoples have ruled on the Silk Road, and can assume that they days of the Chinese tourist are probably not permanent.

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