Post 5: URUMQI - YINING - KORGAS

As the arid dessert is suddenly interrupted by modern tower blocks, it is clear that I am arriving in Urumqi. The city is apparently the furthest from the sea than any other in the World. As another place located along the Silk Road, Urumqi has for a long time been a busy settlement on the eastern edge of Central Asia. Yet, as I get off the train and find a cheap place to stay, it becomes clear from the smoothie cafes and the Mercedes Benzes that this is not somewhere which has got stuck in its past. But owing to its past and its location, Urumqi is ethnically mixed. There are Ulghurs, Dungans, Kazaks and Han Chinese (now the majority). The skyline shows Soviet, Islamic, Chinese and International styles.

During the day I potter about, and discover that on every street corner there is someone selling sliced up pineapples. Or perhaps it is just the same person following me. More likely, they are out and about as it is now a Chinese holiday, so there are an abundance of people off work.

As I wander the streets at night the place is intriguing, hard to put a finger on. It feels tense, yet not threatening. A quote from Eleanor Lattimore, who travelled through here in the 1920s, seems to ring true: ‘Urumqi is full of intrigue and electric with rumours and uneasy with uncertainty and spicy with stories.’

The next day I wander around the suitably titled ‘People’s Park’. There is something for everyone - rides for the kids, dancing for the adults, and vice versa. There are hundreds of families who have come here, yet because the park is so enormous it is not crowded. A lovely place to pass the day.

 In the evening I board the night train to Yining. As I lie in the bed and try to doze off, someone with a most distinctive laugh has got the giggles. Rather than causing people to get annoyed, it is one of those contagious laughs which it is impossible not to join in with. Soon, though, he settles down. The next thing I know, I am waking up in Yining.


The train station is brand new, and is a grand sight when viewed from afar. It is a sign of the change which the Xinjiang region is undergoing with its incorporation in the economically expanding China.

The train line never used to run this far, so it is a massive convenience for people like me who want to speedily traverse Asia. But like so many railways which have been built around the World, I wonder how it has affected the people who live round here - for better or worse, railways physically and culturally change the landscape.

I find a minibus which is going to Khorgas, a town situated near the Chinese/Kazakhstan border. Due to the bus’ cosy feel (i.e. there is no space), I am instantly thrust into communication with the others on board. Between them they can must a few English sentences together, to try and ascertain what I am doing out here. They look at me in amazement, as if waiting for me to perform some sort of magic trick or English jig, but I cannot muster anything together. They are all smiling at me except for one chap who is sat looking out of the window. He suddenly perks up when I tell them all that I am heading towards Almaty. “Almaty? I am from Almaty!”

People gradually leave the bus at its numerous stops, before finally it is my turn. As the driver helps me carry my luggage off the bus, he bellows in my ear: “Wellacomm to Korgossa!”