Kuche, Xinjiang

Kashgar has come and gone and we are enjoying our second rest day in China. China is just how I left it. If you dropped me in the middle of these cities and told me I was in Beijing, I would definitely believe you. The only difference is the high population of Uigers (the locals before the Chinese began pumping in Han Chinese).

The presence of Uigers add Delicious breads and kebobs for us to enjoy, but are also a huge inconvenience for communication. Their Mandarin is either non existent or very slurred and always impossible to understand. This area used to be called Turkmen in it's earlier days and in the smaller villages it does feel like we are still somewhere in the Stans.

My last post was in Osh, ever since we have crossed the border I have been working like a dog. My Mandarin is sufficient in booking hotels and other day to day communication with our local driver. It is still lacking for more advanced speaking. But this is only to improve, I've been studying and adding about 10 new words a day to my lexicon. By the time I reach Beijing, I will be an Expert in getting foreigners around this land.

Kyrgyzstan was, by far, my favorite country. I will certainly make it back to that part of the world. The Swiss have introduced a CBT (Community Based Tourism) program that is unlike anything I have ever experienced. They have established channels to contact local farmers, English guides, etc and it is very very inexpensive. In practice, they cut out the middle men (travel agents) so the money goes directly into the local economy rather than in the pockets of oversea investors.

The cycling in Kyrgyzstan was also my favorite, as we finally had a great deal of off road. Hence riding my mountain bike finally paid off. We had one 3700m climb which culminated for me when we were five switchbacks from the top and it decided to snow! I had meager clothing and most of my body was frozen. I must thank Chip for giving me the "Top 50 Funk Songs of All Time" before I left Beijing. I was soaking wet and navigating my bicycle around potholes and puddles at nearly 50km/hour. Once I got to the bottom, I had to drop my bicycle, crank some funk, and dance until I could feel my hands and feet. Thanks Chip!

Here is something I wrote for the website:

The temperature is falling and we are two hundred meters from the top. Inhaling brings in a mix of moon-like dust and the smell of cold. My lungs are trying to sort through the grit and the thin air of 3600m. My flaring nostrils steadily shoot two columns of icy air into my head, chilling me to the core. The temperature has fashioned my cheeks in a way that my teeth exposed and barred against the elements. A quick run of my tongue reminds me of what my nose already knows, cold and grime. Granny gear and pedaling ferociously, I move half as fast as a pedestrian, but I refuse to leave my seat.

After that intense encounter, I found a warm, dry yurt waiting for me. The second day was another of spectacular vistas and a fresh blanket of snow over the mountain range we cycled along the entire next day.

China is China, we have been blessed with a fantastic driver and cursed with an unbelievably unhelpful tour guide. He is a Uigur and speaks worse Chinese than mine. If it wasn't for me and the bicycle mechanic, there would be huge problems on this trip. We get rid of him in Turpan and all of us are quite excited.

My time is running low, more errands to run before we leave for the desert again. Hope all is well and stay tuned for great pictures!