The Path Less Ridden

Crossing into China became something of a nightmare immediately on arrival. The security and bureaucratic procedures here are absolutely insane and over-the-top. A few hundred metres after the relaxed Pakistani border guard who didn’t even check our passports, just wanting a selfie, we were waved down by a dozen very serious looking paramilitary police. The next six hours was the most frustrating border passage we’ve encountered yet. Highlights include:

• A first body scan powered by a Wii Fit board (how professional)
• Unpacking all bags and panniers, to be passed through an X-ray machine then turned inside out and searched item by item
• A second body scan in a separate room, TSA-style
• A thorough ten minute inspection of a small stuffed toy that one of our group was carrying as a mascot
• A scan through all photos and videos on phones, laptops, hard drives, GoPros, USB sticks etc
• Checking that was detailed enough to demand the removal of the door panels on the Land Rover, and the rubber feet off camera tripods
• Confiscating our passports, as the actual immigration control with the stamps is 100km further north, and then not being able to find some of them for a while

None of it seemed terribly organised, as we’d be told to do one thing by one soldier, then 10 seconds later be told the exact opposite by another, then they would argue and seek a third to intercede. If it wasn’t so tiring and frustrating it would have seemed farcical. With all the searches complete, we sat around outside in the snow for over an hour while they prepared for a VIP to roll through. Finally, after he had visited, taken a cup of tea on his inspection tour, and departed into Pakistan with his motorcade, we were allowed to move on. Instead of the well planned military convoy down to Tashkurgan that we were expecting, they just waved us through individually and pointed down the road – no lead vehicle and no instructions on where to go once we got there. The Land Rover was forced to carry a dash cam to record the journey, but apart from that we were free into China.

 

Well, not quite. Near the town we caught up with a Pakistani van and followed him into the correct building, where we met our local guide. At this point we were made to undergo a laughable quarantine spray (the mist used on the Land Rover blew away in the wind before touching the vehicle, and the bikes were done half-heartedly by a backpack sprayer, only doing the tyres and barely getting them wet), and made to pay for the privilege. We then parked up at the actual immigration control, where we were told we had to undergo the whole search procedure again. With frustration and stress levels peaking, we started to argue and fortunately our guide interceded on our behalf. Eventually, with our passports back in hand and a few of our bags passed through the X-ray machine, we were done.

 

After a night’s stay in a decent hotel (although after a week of camping anything with hot showers and internet qualifies as good), we set off towards the ancient Silk Road departure point of Kashgar. It was instantly clear that we had passed from South Asia into Central Asia – steppe plains, towering but gently-sloped mountains in the distance, and a mix of ethnic Chinese and local Uyghur people.

 

These locals were picking berries, and offered to share some. Very bitter, but apparently helps to lower blood pressure (useful after our previous day).

 

The villages were a mix of cookie-cutter prefabricated Chinese villages, and ancient stone and mud-brick buildings.

 

Passing through the eastern fringes of the Pamir Mountains, snow-capped peaks loomed in the distance as we passed typical Central Asian sights – yurts, yaks and camels.

 

We stopped for lunch by a small, green-tinged lake, staying in a yurt and eating noodles with yak yoghurt and yak kebabs.

 

The local Uyghur people have much more Central Asian appearance than Chinese.

 

Some distance later we arrived at Karakol Lake, a large alpine lake with highly reflective water. The locals have set up stands on the shore, selling semi-precious stones and jewellery.

 

The Karakorum Highway continues all the way through to Kashgar, but after so much good quality tarmac there’s a long stretch that’s being rebuilt. Very impressive engineering on display, but hard to appreciate when you’re battling clouds of dust and bone-jarring rocks.

 

At one point the cliff-face on one side changed to a brilliant red colour, while the road kept passing through tiny villages.

 

Finally, we reached the city of Kashgar. First appearances showed just a normal Chinese city, all highrise buildings and modern architecture.

 

As evening was approaching we took a walk towards the night markets. Some stalls were already set up, and as dusk fell we found a local with a horse and camel for taking pictures.

 

The market itself was bustling, with nearly everything that’s edible (and a few things that are not) on sale or display.

 

For once, the people-watching played second fiddle to the food.

 

Walking back through town, the whole area was lit up in neon, and even Chairman Mao was illuminated.