A little about Turpan (Tulufan, 吐魯番)…

Turpan is the picturesque oasis town in the Gobi desert. Complete with a complex irrigation system (karez) that filters water down from the nearby Flaming Mountains, the lush green vineyards stand in stark contrast to the encroaching sand dunes. Mix in the drastically different culture of the Uighur people, where even young boys still carry a curved knife in their belt, and this city turned out to be one of the most memorable places visited.

At 5am, I felt a great many hands dragging and pushing me off the train for my stop at Turpan. There was actually very little chance of me missing the station because it was impossible to overcome the discomfort and sleep. I will file this away as another trying experience on the train (as far as sleep and rest are concerned), but I gladly accept the hardships for the places I get to see.

Getting off a train at 5am in China is an experience that can hardly be explained. One quickly learns what it means to be on your own, and how important it is to keep your wits about you. This morning, I had a close call with a tout who acted as a cab driver, only to put my bag in the trunk of an illegitimate car. Fortunately, I knew enough to start yelling and banging on the hood, getting the attention of everyone around. The driver was clearly embarrassed, and while using him may not have been that bad - I likely would have paid 3x the proper fare - it is still frustrating dealing with such people.

After an hour of waiting on the side of the road, I caught a public mini-bus that drove me the remaining two hours to the town of Turpan. Even this bus-ride was not without incident: Only ten minutes after boarding the bus a police convoy stopped us. Three officers, all with their handguns drawn, climbed aboard while another two officers stood guard from the outside. The police had their flashlights out and carefully looked everyone over, me included, but they didn't find the person for whom they were searching. Oddly enough, it was not all that harrowing experience. I figured this is simply the kind of thing that happens when you travel.

So before the sun even came up this morning, I had: alighted from an exhausting 15 hour train-ride, fought with a tout trying to cheat me, and sat placidly while our bus was searched for what I can only assume was a highly dangerous criminal. Who wouldn't love life on the road?

When I reached town, I had to haggle with more touts as I negotiated the hiring of a taxi for the day. Eventually, I found a driver who agreed for only USD$15, and he would take me to the main sights outside the city. I was fairly apprehensive getting into his vehicle because we would be alone in the middle of the desert, but I couldn't just sit around doing nothing all day either. So I hopped in the back seat, prayed he wasn't affiliated with any criminals, and off we went.

The first place I visited is probably my favorite village in China. Named Tuyoq, it is a small Uighur village about an hour and a half outside Turpan. I heard about Tuyoq while reading an on-line travelogue detailing places off-the-beaten path, and I was thankful it didn't disappoint. To put the village in context, Turpan is known as China’s hottest city (today was 45 degrees Celsius), yet it has some of the greenest vineyards in the world. The secret is a renowned irrigation system, called the karez, which carries water down from the nearby Flaming Mountains.

Speaking of the Flaming Mountains, on the ride to the village the desert came alive as the sun's shadows played upon the dunes.

When we broke off the main road and began winding our way through the outskirts of Tuyoq I fell under a trance. The town was exactly what I would imagine an untouched "Uighur village" would look like.

The Uighur people are primarily of Muslim origin and their colorful and airy apparel, jet-black beards, and electric blue eyes give them a distinct look. Coupled with the sun-worn clay buildings and draping vineyards and it was easy to forget that this is still China.

The center of Tuyoq is nestled in a ravine of the Flaming Mountains, with lush greenery sheltering the town from the encroaching sands. I hope my pictures do justice to the views because I cannot think of words to describe how picturesque everything was. I was able to wander up and down the alleys, and no matter which way I turned there was a perfect picture waiting. As is customary, I always request permission before taking a picture of someone and it was obvious the local people did not want to be intruded upon. Honoring their wishes, I stuck to the scenery and architecture.

As I neared the end of the town, I climbed the crusted dunes rising behind the village and was afforded breathtaking aerial views. I continued climbing higher and higher in the dunes hoping to find a perfect shot, but I was also conscious of where I was stepping - scorpions and snakes are the norm here.

Later in the morning I made my way into another part of the village where a deep ravine leads to a set of famous Buddhist caves from the 8th Century. Since there were only a handful of Chinese tourists around, I struck up a conversation with the guide/guard who spoke passable English. After explaining the significance of the works and how both the Red Guards and earthquakes destroyed much, he unlocked several caves that were off-limits to all the other tourists. The cave-paintings, primarily of Buddha, were astounding - even for some one with no background in such things. Colorful and vivid, I was in the Gobi Desert’s version of the stained glass windows at Notre Dame.

After exhausting myself in Tuyoq, I met back up with my driver and we headed off for the second place we agreed on: GaoChing. Formerly the capital of the (aptly named) GaoChing empire, the archaeological site was full of rubble, ruins, and Chinese tourists. There was not really much to see, so I took the time to rest and catch a tan in the sun. There I was: lying down on sun-hardened ruins, basking in the afternoon sun, and listening to the grunts of mules as they pulled Chinese tourists around in carts.

The last stop of the day was an impressive minaret, but I foolishly forgot to take a picture. Oddly enough, what I remember the most was sitting down outside the minaret walls and eating several ice-cream cones with my driver.

In the early evening we arrived back in Turpan, and I used the time to catch up on writing emails, keeping this journal updated, and planning the rest of my trip.

Late in the evening I caught another train, and once more I was cursed with only a "hard-seat" ticket. Fortunately, I had the entire bench to myself making things slightly better for the 14 hour ride.

**Sigh** It's the small things in life.