23/8/25
When the train stopped at Kurla at 4:30am, the air stopped blowing and we woke up. After the train got moving again a policeman walked down the train filming everything on his body cam. The toilets were locked while we were in the station. The carriage attendant stood at the door watching attentively until the platform went out of sight.
Travelling through such a vast region all at once was overwhelming, incredible and disappointing. All at the same time. We were skipping along the Silk Road at a phenomenal rate. We’d already passed through the Hexi Corridor, traversed by travellers for thousands of years, and surrounded by inhospitable terrain. Overnight we had started moving along the northern edge of the ever expanding Taklamakan desert. A huge expanse of dunes. The Chinese government had started building the Great Green Wall in the 50’s. Still not entirely complete, the objective was to try and hold back the tide by planting 3000 miles of forest strips.
Once light, we could see the Tian Shan. Mountains that marked the northern edge of the basin. We also noticed that we were no longer being hauled by an electric unit, it was now diesel. No wires spanned the track anymore. The dining carriage appeared to separate the sleeper cars and the mere seats that some were encumbered with. Sitting in the heart of the train was an exciting place. Firstly, we could see many other passengers rather than just parents with children. Those speaking Ughyer were far soft and gentler with their language. A welcome change. Secondly, the guards had some kind of odd ceremony going on. Reciting some passages from their manual and being questioned on it. They mostly didn’t seem amused, though a youngish woman chuckled.
Outside was still relentless desert. It was still unfathomable that we could go to sleep by the rocky sands, wake up by the same tract of land and then spend all day next to it too. Slightly smaller than Germany, was a good way for us to grasp the size of the are. Other indications of our location started to appear. Angry razor wire topped continuous walls and fences alongside the tracks.
Flat lands always felt strangely familiar. When fertile and green it reminded us of the fens of East Anglia. What initially surprised us as a light dusting of frost equally did so. But we later realised it was salt. Evaporation from the basin leaving behind a thick residue.
Nothing changed all day. We sat. We drank tea. We listened to the children making far too much noise. We read our kindles. In some weird way the idea of getting off the train started to become an oddity. An hour away from Kashgar the atmosphere changed. Rubbish bins were emptied, toilets were being scrubbed. One of the carriage attendants told us she hated her job. After studying e-commerce at college she was one month in to working on the railways. Always assigned to the same route. Envy of her role was not something we felt especially. Thankless and enduring. Not to mention the scrutiny they experienced.
Our nerves peaked as we pulled into Kashgar. Skipping such a huge swathe of the country felt overwhelming. What would await us on the other side we wondered?Stepping out we were greeted by dry heat. Welcome change from hellish humidity. We filed out with the rest of the passengers into the square and headed straight to CRE to retrieve our bikes.
An hour was needed so we found an area to sit in the underground concourse and ate some ‘nan’, bread, and barbecued gluten. As we arrived back at the CRE office we were greeted by an extremely angry shouting man. Fortunately we were easily able to ignore him and gain the attention of a less angry man. The bikes had been exceptionally well packed. Foam protection had been cable tied to the frame. Even a plastic bottle had been attached to protect the rear derailleur. The staff were interested in our gear and the concept of bike travelling. We were sure they must have seen a few bicycles come through but the novelty was apparently still there. Our wood burning stove was a fascinating contraption.
Cycling in Kashgar was immediately a wildly different experience. Putting it mildly, the drivers sucked. It felt a lot more unsafe than it had done before. The station was around 5km outside the centre of the city. Soon we laid eyes on the East Gate of the ancient city of Kashgar. Perfectly restored and bearing the great big ‘AAAAA’ symbols of the China tourism board. We beared left and headed a couple of kilometres further to our hotel. Recommended as a comfortable place where the bikes could come inside.
Having eaten already and it being late enough we were happy to stay in our room. As the whole of China was one time zone, but we’d travelled across what should have been 3, the time had become confusing. Basically it was later than it should have been. Though we’d read there was an unofficial Xinjiang time zone it seemed to have been done away with. Beijing time or nothing.