We have been traveling through Xinjiang for a week. The majestic Chinese province alone covers a territory three times the size of France and, surrounded by seven states, concentrates the largest number of border countries – from Mongolia in the northeast to Pakistan in the southwest. Xinjiang is a land of excess. We approached it through one of its hottest spots: Turpan. The city, located on the edge of a depression of the same name, which takes up to 150 meters below sea level, greeted us with 40°C in the shade and a small friendly breeze. The idea of ??getting there in the early morning wasn’t so bad.
This province is the territory of the Uyghurs. It is placed under high surveillance by the Chinese authorities: as foreigners, we must regularly register with a police station. The uniforms stationed at the exit of the station do not miss us…
Discover our Silk Roads seriesShanghai-Paris, the great start of the adventureBy train from Xi’an to Dunhuang
Our schedule adapts to the weather under high temperature. Visits in the morning and evening, and a middle of the day in the shelter, waiting for the heat to drop to get out, if not in the cool, then at least in more breathable air. Sometimes, you shouldn’t hesitate to embrace adversity and throw yourself into the almost literal fire of this piece of desert. Direction the Flaming Mountains, which owe their name to their beautiful ocher tending towards red, but also to this wave of heat that the earth gives off naturally.
More astonishing is undoubtedly the Valley of the grapes, luxuriant refreshing parenthesis in this arid landscape. The region, which was an important stop on the Silk Roads, seems to lack nothing.
The next step seems disconcertingly simple: an hour by high-speed train to return to Urumqi, the provincial capital. It must be said that a shock of simplification has gone through there and the route chosen is ultimately more direct. We had to give up going around the Taklamakan desert, of which the train only runs along part and required a simple round trip of more than 2,000 kilometers. Low-carbon travel should not be an unlimited pass for all trips and the idea of ??going to the same place twice ends up stopping my decision.
Urumqi is a modern Chinese city, which has the distinction of not having bicycles or motorized two-wheelers in its streets, while they invade the arteries of most urban centers in China. Here, the weather will have got the better of these light mobility: the city is covered in snow six months of the year. Not to be believed, under its blue summer sky.
The sky alone indicates that we are far from Beijing. It’s 10 p.m. and it’s still daylight. When arranging a date, it should be specified whether you are talking on “Beijing time” or “Xinjiang time”. It is even more striking when you arrive in Yining, where the light lingers in the evening. From 9 p.m. (Beijing time…), the “night markets”, which we would call terraces, fill up with residents who have come to dine.
The outskirts of Yining herald Kazakhstan just around the corner: vast grasslands as far as the eye can see and mountains rising rapidly on the horizon, covered with fir trees, rocks and a few snow-capped peaks, depending on altitude.
It’s definitely a step in the journey, because until now we were playing “at home”. Despite the widespread use of regional languages ??in China, the whole country – including minorities – also speaks Putonghua, the official Chinese, taught in school and used in the media. This allows you to be more than 4,000 kilometers from Shanghai and to continue to be understood without any problem.
There are also all the apps embedded in the phone. It’s easy to book a hotel, locate the most recommended restaurant in the area, find out about the three places not to be missed, buy a train ticket, call a taxi. All this is two clicks away from us.
In Kazakhstan, it’s the real leap into the unknown. Not only will the digital ecosystem no longer be there to assist us, but we are also changing the language, and even the alphabet. I didn’t take Russian as a second language, so we’ll be navigating by sight amid the Cyrillic signposts. The language wall is already looming with train ticket reservations on the Kazakh Railways website, of which I don’t understand a letter. The journey of no return can begin.
