The First Seventy Years: 118 - Into China
...Kashgar is one of the most fascinating cities I have ever visited. Predominantly Moslem, this sets it apart from most other major Chinese cities. It is famous for its Sunday market; one of the largest in Central Asia. It attracts people from far and wide, most of them travelling by donkey cart. Congestion on the approach roads makes it almost impossible to reach except on foot....
Eric Biddulph ventures into China.
Eric’s book The First Seventy Years can be obtained for £10 by contacting http://mary@bike2.wanadoo.co.uk or telephoning 01484-658175.
All the cash raised by the book goes to a water aid project in Malawi.
Rising at 7.30 the next morning we realised that it was still dark outside. It did not get light until 8.30. We later learned that the Chinese Government would not allow the country to be split into time zones and insisted that Beijing time applied everywhere. It had, of course, been daylight in the capital for over three hours.
Two hours after departure we were shaken by a rear wheel tyre explosion. All the passengers disembarked and the bus was jacked-up. A spare wheel was produced from beneath the bowels of the vehicle but alas, it could not be fitted; it was the wrong size. We sat around in the barren landscape awaiting the arrival of the next bus.
A couple of hours passed before it reached us and, as luck would have it, its spare wheel did have the same number of bolt fittings as our punctured one. We were on our way once again only to observe the driver dozing off from time to time. When Gavin took a photograph of him holding his door open to get a flow of air into his cabin he was seen by the driver in his rear view mirror. He responded by sitting bolt upright. The age and condition of the bus gave rise to many spells of first gear driving at little more than walking speed.
Eventually we came to a ridge overlooking a huge plain some 1000 metres below. I remember thinking "I hope the brakes are better than the engine". Kalikuli Lake came into view. The bus stopped.
We decided to get off and damn the consequences. Neither the bus crew nor our fellow passengers showed the slightest interest in us as we disembarked. We booked in at the reception desk of the only visible signs of accommodation. We were directed to one of the yurts. A sense of harmony with nature was my overwhelming impression of the location. Food in acceptable quantities and quality was served at supper and again at breakfast. The vast distance across the plain made it easy to identify the arrival of the bus the following day.
Kashgar is one of the most fascinating cities I have ever visited. Predominantly Moslem, this sets it apart from most other major Chinese cities. It is famous for its Sunday market; one of the largest in Central Asia. It attracts people from far and wide, most of them travelling by donkey cart. Congestion on the approach roads makes it almost impossible to reach except on foot.
The market is split into zones: fruit and vegetables: radios and TVs: clothing: bicycles: meat: horses as well as countless others each contributing to a rich tapestry of activity. A visit is remembered above all for the sounds. Hundreds of braying donkeys, vendors reciting the virtues of their wares; radios and televisions all competing for air space. There is also a huge amount of activity taking place on its many narrow streets every day of the week. A fascinating day can be spent just wandering around watching the craftsmen at work: musical instruments: blacksmiths shoeing horses: sewing: haircutting, the list is endless. The two days journey from the Pakistan border had been well worth it. We returned after spending nearly a week in the city. We spent the following days descending the Karakoram Highway to Gilgit.
