navigate:
Monday 2004-06-28 - Kuqa, Xinjiang (China)
On the train
At 6:10 am the bus is already waiting to take us to the train station which is way outside the city. The train will take us from Kashgar to Kuqa, a town which is new to me. The station is modern: luggage goes through an x-ray scanner before we’re let in to the waiting room and here, at least, there are no stairs to climb to get to the platform (I have bad memories of Ürümqi in that respect). We have reserved places on the train in a hard-sleeper carriage; there are open compartments with six beds each (on three levels) and two little folding chairs in the corridor alongside the compartments. Custom dictates that as long as people are not sleeping — and this is not a night train — the people who have the upper beds can sit om the lower bed since the two folding chairs are not enough. Alas, in our compartment, a very uncouth Uyghur claims his bed and Carla is banned to the folding chair. Meanwhile I sit on the corner of the other bed, which belongs to a mother with a young boy: for them it’s no problem, even when they stretch out for a nap. Big thermos flasks with hot water are provided so we can make a cup of tea or prepare a bowl of instant noodles; every now and then an attendant comes past with a little cart with fresh hot water but on this train no food is sold and there’s no hot water tank at the end of the carriage as is normal in Chinese trains.
We ride along the edge of the Taklamakan desert, with the Tien Shan mountains in the North, here mainly consisting of bare sandstone in various colors. Near the rails, grass has been planted in a square grid pattern to prevent the sand from blowing away or blowing onto the tracks; at some stretches I even notice the tubes of a drip irrigation system: not for agriculture but merely to promote a little vegetation and stop the sand…
Apart from the unfriendly Uyghur (an exception), the atmosphere on the train is nice; people sit around quietly to chat or eat a snack; no one is loud, not even the children. On arrival in Kuqa, one man even helps us to get the luggage off the train, handing us our bags through the window. Then he waves goodbye to us.
We arrive a little late, but a bus is waiting to take us to the Min Mao hotel which has a curious “old-soviet” style with a key lady to open the room for you — who usually has to be found on another floor first. Otherwise, no complaints.
