Kashgar was, for millennia, one of the most important cities on the Silk Roads, where north and south routes around the Taklamakan desert converge and the west beckons; and where, much later, the British and Russians vied with each other for influence in the Great Game.
Kashgar, or Kashi, the most romantic of the Silk Road cities, where travellers rested and merchants traded before their onward journey, either west, to India or as far as the Mediterranean, or east to go north or south around the formidable Taklamakan desert for the cities of China.
Nowadays there is a lot of demolition and rebuilding going on, but there are still remnants of the ancient homes and way of life to be found. And the time itself is weird - we were operating on Beijing time, though the actual time difference is two hours earlier! The hotels keep to Beijing time but the people who live here, such as farmers, operate naturally on local time, two hours earlier, so when we were at ten o'clock it was only 8 for them.
We flew in from Urumqi late one afternoon on a beautiful day. East of Urumqi the dry landscape gave way to a high range of snow-covered peaks then deep blue mountain lakes and drier valleys.
The snack served on board was a meat-filled bun, something like sausage meat, yogurt, dried red dates and water.
It was a good flight and our guide and driver were there to meet us after we'd had our passports checked by security in the baggage hall.
The following day Carol, our guide (her real name was difficult for us to pronounce!), came to our hotel to pick us up in full traditional dress - a very high quality colourful silk dress and doppa cap. All day she led us in her high heels - I was very impressed!
Ancient Kashgar was a walled oasis city, rising above the surrounding land, visible to travellers approaching from afar, much as Jaisalmer, another ancient desert walled city, would have been.
Carol rearranged our itinerary a bit, to make the most of everything, and our first stop was the reconstructed gate of the old city where each morning there is a ceremony celebrating Uyghur history and traditions. The attraction for us, though, was that the local people dance their own dances beforehand.
Before the ceremony began there was continuous Uyghur music and the local people danced. A young boy and a famous, beautifully dressed, 91 year old man seemed to be dancing all the time.
It was exuberant, full of joy, and lovely to see.
The ceremony itself consisted of a parade of famous figures with more dancing and music and a celebration of the local produce.
On top of the gate men dressed as ancient warriors stood guard and banners fluttered in the breeze.
Stefan Green1 reported in 2010 that almost half of the old town had gone but that the buildings on the main streets had been preserved.
Carol made a point of taking us well away from the main street and the central tourist area into the quieter parts, but we're still not sure how much is authentic traditional Uyghur. In general, I think, it seems the main streets are original but renovated; many of the smaller alleys have been demolished and replaced with wider streets to allow access for vehicles, and buildings rebuilt in a semblance of traditional style. Wider streets do not allow for the traditional way of expanding a home by building out over an alley to the building opposite. So we think a narrow alley with bridging buildings is probably at least an original in design and layout.
We were able to go into one or two places. The first was pristine and there were musicians playing.
This was obviously set up for tourists who all, apart from us, looked like local people - there weren't a huge number of them.
Most homes have two floors, if the house has any more then a rich person must live there!
The labyrinthine back streets are more evocative of the traditional way of life. They are very shady and cool with no motorised vehicles, maybe the odd scooter. Small children ran around playing in the puddles of water or kicking a ball, not many adults to be seen.
Once these alleyways would have been bustling and noisy, loud with the sounds of blacksmiths, vendors, music and countless children playing or reciting their lessons in the madrassas. There would have been tea houses filled with gossiping men - merchants and travellers come to impart news from distant lands and learn what was happening locally, to relate on their next journeys.
In the depths of the back streets we entered a quiet courtyard of homes, lots of plants in pots, a kettle on a smouldering wood fire. The lady of one of the houses came out to push the wood further into the bowl of embers. She and our guide had a friendly chat while we wandered around.
We saw a couple of beautifully decorated buildings, their walls sculpted into geometric 3D patterns. At least one of these looked to be a mosque, all new.
Some parts of the old town were protected from demolition, but it seems that these too may no longer be safe from destruction.
As we left the old town we passed a number of street food vendors. It all looked good and we had a really excellent samsa - pastry stuffed with spicy meat and veg which is cooked by slapping it onto the inner sides of a very hot stone cauldron - a very common Uyghur cooking method..
Later we went to a bridge on the Tuman River which lies to the south east of the part of the old city of Kashgar that we had already visited. We approached from the east, and could see across to another part of the old city which we were not allowed to enter - we could cross the bridge but not go amongst the buildings. Once protected this is now being demolished and replaced.
The old town here also rises up above the surrounding ground with at least three levels of building that we could see.
Carol took us to a very good restaurant, the Palace, for lunch in Kashgar (she was one of the guides who just took it for granted that we would pay for the guide and driver).
It was extremely opulent inside with a huge choice of food.
We had thin wraps stuffed with spicy vegetables which I really liked, noodles with lamb and vegetables in a spicy broth (lagman?), mutton kebabs which were a bit chewy - probably the least good of the three lots we'd had so far in Xinjiang, and mutton-stuffed pastry buns (samsa), again very good.
Ginger tea was excellent, though a bit sweet for me, I think honey had been added.
Upstairs the restaurant has a number of private dining rooms, an arrangement which we discovered in the hotels in Xinjiang too. It's obviously a popular way to eat out with a group of friends, family or for business.
Back out on the streets we enjoyed just poking around the small shops that line every thoroughfare. As in many ancient cities these are often just a space with no facilities or room to walk or sit, all the goods for sale packed in tightly in most cases. Metal shutters pull down at the front and are padlocked overnight.
A huge space in front of this mosque is thronged with thousands of worshippers at Friday prayers - at least it used to be, I'm not sure what the situation is in the current climate.
Originally built in 1442 it has undergone many restorations over the centuries.
Inside the mosque are shady spaces and tree-lined gardens. This is also a place of study and there is accommodation for the students
When we came out from the very small covered interior there were two young Muslims who wanted to pray in the mosque but as foreigners they were not allowed. The guardian asked Carol to explain to them as she did not speak English. They were on a pilgrimage to pray in every mosque in the region so decided they would go to the local police to ask permission. I wonder how they fared.
The old Russian and British consulates are in this part of town too. The British had come in 1890 when the Russians started to make inroads in the region, particularly anxious to protect their interests and northern routes into India. George Macartney was the first consul, remaining in post for 28 years. He married in 1898, and his wife Catherine sounds a very capable woman who "turned their quarters into an English country home, complete with gardens and a cow, and took turns serving cream teas with the Russian wives, while their husbands played tennis"2 and she created beautiful gardens - the British residence was called Chini-Bagh - Chinese Garden.3 The nanny, Miss Cresswell, was perhaps even more formidable, she "used to go to bed armed with a large carving knife, so as to be `prepared for all eventualities`."3
The Macartneys hosted the European explorers of the day including von Le Coq, Sven Hedin and Aurel Stein, though von Le Coq found that his comfortable bed fast became suffocating and he "took my rug, spread it on the verandah, used my saddle as a pillow and, wrapped in a light fur, slept out in the open air."4
Macartney established a network of aksakals "white-beards", usually the senior Indian, and therefore British, trader in each oasis. Ostensibly tasked with responsibility for the welfare and good behaviour of the local British community, and assisting any British travellers, they occasionally also turned their hands to the Great Game.4
Peter Hopkirk4 says that by the 1970s Chini-Bagh had come down in the world "Today it is used as a hostel for long-distance lorry drivers, though its bathroom still has its British taps - and a lavatory called `Victory`." William Dalrymple also mentions "Victory" fitted with "a sturdy mahogany seat, the only flushing thunderbox for two thousand miles."3 and describes the terrible state he found Chini-Bagh in, still a poor lodging for lorry drivers in the 1980s, the beautiful gardens gone.
Today all that remains of Chini-Bagh is a tired building hidden behind a new hotel, perhaps still with its ornate rooms, its most recent incarnation a Chinese restaurant with no sign of the famous gardens.
This beautiful tiled mausoleum, 5km outside Kashgar, was built in the seventeenth century for the ruling Khoja family. Abakh Khoja was a famous religious leader and it is said that his perhaps even more famous granddaughter, Ikparhan, known to the Chinese as Xiang Fei, is also laid to rest here. Her name means "fragrant princess or concubine" because of her natural perfume. She was a concubine of the Qing Dynasty Emperor Qian Long who took her to Peking (Beijing), but she pined for her homeland.
The mausoleum is surrounded by extensive gardens and a canal has recently been installed to mimic the approach to the Taj Mahal.
Just inside the entrance to the complex there is a small museum which includes a beautiful room furnished as a study or perhaps classroom, with examples of fine calligraphy.
There is a beautiful new relief carving on the approach to the mausoleum itself which tells the story of Xiang Fei. There seem to be several different versions, dependent mostly on whether it is a Uyghur or Chinese telling - she is variously abducted and forcibly taken to Peking, the emperor's mother ordered her to commit suicide, she was given as a gift to the emperor who loved her, or she was murdered.
The tomb hall is in a traditional Islamic style with colourful ceramics and a tiled central dome. It holds caskets from five generations of the family, draped in bright silks. Photography of the caskets was not allowed.
We moved on from the mausoleum to a beautiful wooden structure - Carol said it was a palace but in my reading since I believe it is the High or Summer Mosque.4 It is open and airy which would be more comfortable in the hot summer months. There is an enclosed Low, or Winter, Mosque attached.
