Mike Chrisp

I processed more photographs from 7:00 until 8:30 before having a shower and getting dressed. Packing quickly we loaded the Nissan and then had breakfast. Checking out we drove out to the fort at Hami. This 17th century fort was recently restored and the colours were vibrant -- a welcome contrast to the surrounding desert .

We set off towards Tulufan (Turfan) but started to get buffeted by very strong cross winds. The Tian Shan were dark and forbidding to the north and it was raining over there. The snow capped mountains were probably over 15 miles away.

As we drove on we came across trucks that had lost their loads. One truck had been blown off the road and was laying at a crazy angle just off the carriageway. We passed the Flaming Mountains and a real tourist trap complete with camels. As we took photographs a character came out and tried to wave us away.

There is a story from long ago about the Flaming Mountains in the "Journey to the West." During the Tang Dynasty a monk called Xuanzang (Tripitaka) made a series of travels to the west. As he approached the rugged red coloured mountains, the heat from the flames fanned by the "Iron Fan Princess," almost overcame him. His friend Sun Wu Kong (Monkey) managed to trick her and stole the fan. One fan made the flames grow higher. Two fans extinguished the flames. When the heat had died down the party continued its journey.

When the sun is low in the sky, the red sandstone glows and resembles flames. This is caused by the passage of small rivulets that have scoured deep grooves into the soft rock. The colours change throughout the day and it is particularly attractive in the evening.

The mountains lie roughly east to west and are part of the Tian Shan mountain range. They were formed over 50 million years ago and have been weathered ever since. They are about 100 km long and 9 km wide.

As the sun hits the rocks it generates hot air, which curls up, shimmering against the mountains behind giving the appearance of red flames flickering. The Turfan depression was just to the south of us and we could see the pale salt flats of Ayingkol Hu as we passed valleys. To the south. This area is the second lowest place on earth at -154m (-555ft). It hardly ever rains here (approximately 16mm a year) as the whole basin is in the shadow of the Tian Shan to the north and the Himalaya to the south.

We arrived in Tulufan (Turfan) and asked to go to the hotel first before going out to the ancient city ruins of Jiaohe before returning to the Flaming Mountains to film them as the sunset. We could not get our point across to Lao Bei and eventually drove to a hotel (Lu Gwan). After checking in, we took our gear up to the room. Suddenly the room was full of new people. Lao Bei had asked for a translator so that he could find out what we wanted to do. The translator - Ahmat also brought his brother and another person. We decided to employ him to act as our guide and translator. Lao Bei was very wary of Ahmat. We left the hotel and climbed into a taxi and returned to the Tourist area at the Flaming Mountain centre. We toured the cultural centre and then went up and out through an arched doorway to be confronted by a scoured mountain- side. There were also camels, two of them.

"Do you want to go on one of those?" Asked Tim.

"You just want me to look stupid don't you?" I replied.

"No! I think it would be kind of neat to sit on a camel and film."

We both went over and I started the negotiations.

"You want camel ride," said the young boy in charge.

"How much?"

"One hundred Yuan."

"Too much."

"Ok fifty."

"We only want to ride the camel for 5 minutes," I said. It was important to drive a hard bargain.

"Fifty."

"Thirty."

"No Fifty."

I waved my hand with the palm down. "No, too much. Forget it." As I walked away he shouted after me, "Okay, thirty but only five minutes." Tim climbed up onto basically a stool on the left hand side of the camel. Putting his foot through the two humps, he sat down. I had filmed him mounting the camel and then passed him the film camera. Another older man led Tim around a circular route while he filmed from the top of the camel.

Then it was my turn. I climbed onto the stool and sat astride the camel between the two humps. The movement was slow and ponderous and it was easy to see why the camel is known as the ship of the desert. My turn was finished. I climbed off and jumped to the ground.

"How long was that?" our young friend asked.

"Five minutes," I lied.

"No, more than five minutes. You pay fifty."

"Forty."

"Forty five."

"Okay."

I paid the money and we left. Next stop the ruined city at Jiaohe. We passed back through Tulafan and traveled out to the south of the city. As we looked back we saw an enormous reservoir with the sun catching a large escarpment. We both got out and started photographing or filming. After ten minutes we were back in the taxi and had a mere four hundred metres to go until we pulled into the carpark. It was all shut up except for some street vendors who wanted to sell us some tat.

Ahmat asked us if we would like to see some traditional Uighur dancing and we thought it might make for a pleasant end to the day. The taxi driver dropped us off and we walked down "Grape Avenue." The whole walkway was covered like an enormous arbour. We were ushered into a covered area off a small square. The performance was due to start in ten minutes. We found some seats off to the right and Tim set up his tripod to film.

The troop were very good and performed a series of traditional dances. The band was also excellent. It reminded me of seeing friends playing in pubs back home. The flute player was particularly accomplished and the general style was more Middle Eastern than Chinese. At the end. the troop went into the audience to pull people up to join in a big dance circle. At the end lots of people had their photograph taken with members of the troop.

We left to get something to eat. Ahmat took us to his Uncle's outside restaurant and we had a great meal of lamb kebabs, lamb's liver kebabs, dumplings and Uighur bread. We also tried some local wine.

"Where are you from? Asked the wine seller.

"America," said Tim.

"Love America. Want to live in America."

Finally we met up with Mamet another one of Ahmat's vast family who took us back to the hotel. We asked how they got on with the Chinese.

"We don't like Chinese. We are Uighurs"

We arranged to met Ahmat at 9:00 the next morning. Once back in the hotel we started the ritual of plugging various pieces of equipment in for charging. I tried to write up my diary but was too tired to continue.

We had been trying to send back data to the website but every time we tried to use the internet in the hotels we had trouble with the password and the language. Everything was in Chinese. To gain access was proving very difficult.

—Mike Chrisp

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