A trip always starts with a dream. A perfume, a promise and a thirst to discover different cultures and customs. The ancient Silk Road has always intrigued us. A trade route that connected Europe and China via Central Asia, and allowed not only for sought-after goods such as tea, silk and porcelain to spread through the west, but also ideas and religions. An almost mythological network of paths hiding a well of stories. Since we are a couple raised in different cultures, this trip felt personal. Why travel if not to open up to heterogeneousness?

But our first question was whether it was doable to travel the ancient Silk Road within a month. It didn’t take us long to realize that we had to split our trip in at least two different parts. China would go first. The other parts through Central Asia, and the Middle East towards Europe would have to wait for another year… Excited, we contacted a dozen local travel agencies to help us with the planning. China Highlights, which already lent us a hand during our Guilin-trip in 2015, replied straightaway. Because they stood out for their high reactivity and availability, we quickly decided to stick with them. And we have not once regretted our loyalty, since their service was impeccable from the start to the very end of our almost 1-month trip.

BEIJING

We flew to Beijing, where we visited a few of the landmarks, since Mei has always dreamt of wandering through the Forbidden City and hiking up the Great Wall of China. Since it was high season, we cruised through the domestic tourist crowds with a bit of discouragement at first. But soon, we adapted to the flocks of Chinese tourists. And sought out less-frequented corners, which remained possible as most Chinese vacationists shift in groups. This may be one of the first cultural differences we encountered. Many Westerners prefer intimate, customized tours and would not appreciate the company of their fellows. In Chinese culture the feeling for community is strongly appreciated. Companionship is valued, as well as meeting different ethnic groups from the same or different regions inside the “Middle Kingdom”.

XI’AN

Despite the impressive cultural sites and very modern skyscrapers in Beijing, three days in the Chinese capital was enough for us. And we couldn’t wait to start our journey along the ancient Silk Road… So the next day we took a high-speed train and traveled over 1000 km to Xi’an, the oldest city in China and the capital-city of 13 different dynasties. In ancient times, Xi’an was known as Chang’ an, and was both the starting point and the destination of the ancient Silk Road. Historically speaking, the Silk Road was not one but many routes that connected Asia and the Mediterranean. Our intention was to travel through Gansu Province and then head to Xinjiang Province in northwestern China.

Xi’an was equally as crowded as Beijing. But thanks to our local guide Rocky, we still had a great experience. When we faced the silent ranks of the Terracotta warriors keeping watch over Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s tomb in the pits below us, we immediately forgot the swarm of Chinese tourists that gathered around us. We stood still, a bit frustrated by the impossible task to observe over 6000 clay generals, foot soldiers, cavalrymen portrayed with striking details. Each face is unique, as well as their height, their body shape, and their garment. The real bronze weapons, which once denoted the rank of each soldier, were all robbed by the rebels who brought an end to the Qin Dynasty and who stormed the entrances to the underground pits to set fire to the wooden chariots and roofs around 200 BC.

In the second exhibition hall, a horse was still half stuck in the clay wall, since the archaeologists did not yet excavate the other half. We admired the meticulously painstaking work, which will continue to occupy generations of archaeologists…

FROM LANZHOU TO LIUJIAXIA… TO THE BINGLING GROTTOES

As much as we’d like to stay longer in Xi’an, we moved forward on our journey after two days, and headed to Lanzhou. As soon as we arrived at the train station, our local tour guide Frank and our driver took us to a Muslim restaurant to taste some homemade noodles. They work so fast in this local restaurant that the huge bowls of sizzling hot soups with delicious noodles were brought to us even before we sat down on a table. Being someone who eats quite slowly, I felt bad that the others had to wait for me to finish up. Luckily, we had about two hours to digest during our drive to Liujiaxia …

When we reached Liujiaxia Lake, we were surprised that the wharf was not very busy. A kid bathed and chuckled in the sunlight. A Muslim biker sped past us. An elderly couple was picnicking under a tree nearby, and a few sheep were grazing on the riverbanks. Mei walked slowly behind me, too mesmerized by the whole setting that radiated idyllic vibes. It seemed like we had left the crowds in the previous province!

We climbed in the pitching speedboat, eager to discover more. The river frothed, churned. Cows watching us from afar seemed to be whipped away into the water. The closer we got to our destination, the more beautiful the tortured gorge became. The sunlit mountains gleamed around “in a hedge of inaccessible purity” (James Hilton, Lost Horizon, 1933). We completely fell under their spell even before we docked. Now looking back, we can say with certainty that the Bingling Thousand Buddha Caves turned out to be one of the most unexpected highlights of our trip.

Cut into sheer cliff, above a tributary of the Yellow River, the Bingling Caves were built between the 3^rd and 18^thcenturies, and number 183 in total. The delicately painted frescoes are slowly fading, which adds to the charm of the site. Our guide Frank told us that these paintings couldn’t be compared to the more famous Mogao Caves in Dunhuang, which we would visit a week later. In retrospect, we couldn’t disagree more… The very colorfully restored caves in Dunhuang certainly attract many tourists. But perhaps because it has become such a touristy and crowded site, it cannot compete with the authenticity of the Bingling Caves.

An imposing Buddha statue that was looking down at us dominated the front of the caves. As we were admiring its features, my sight was caught by the wooden staircase that seemed to connect more niches high above to the top of the cliffs. When I asked Frank whether we would visit these alcoves, he told us that the cave located on the top of the cliffs holds the most ancient stone carvings executed by reclusive Buddhist monks, and are therefore more severely protected. We saw him pay additional money to a security guard dressed in army fashion, who then proceeded to unlock several doors for us.

At first, the narrow stairways seemed not too difficult to manage. But soon they were replaced by wooden ladders that creaked at each step. We left our backpacks to continue the strenuous climb. Mei’s legs were shaking as we reached the top, and I was silently fretting about the upcoming descent. However, the frescoes on the top cave were well preserved, and the crimson, turquoise and emerald strokes are so finely traced. For conservation purposes, it was not allowed to take pictures. We were very grateful to be even allowed to marvel at those treasures.

THE LABRANG MONASTERY IN XIAHE

The Bingling Caves were void of tourists upon our arrival. But when we stepped down from the top cave, we suddenly noticed that we were the last visitors onsite. The sun started to set, and the scenery got more and more spectacular as we cruised back to Liujiaxia. On the way to Xiahe, we fell asleep and woke up a few hours later to gaze at the beautifully lit gate to the Labrang Monastery.

The Labrang Monastery is home to one of the six most important temples of Gelugpa, also known as the Yellow Hat Sect of Tibetan Buddhism. On the following day, we circled around the monastery, where colorful prayer wheels were spinning ceaselessly. Founded in 1709, it consists of six great grand halls dedicated to the study of scriptures or sutras, numerous temples and the monks’ residences, intricately interwoven.

Our mind was blown away when we learned that to become a doctor, the monks have to study medicine for 15 years, but to become a philosopher they have to study for 25 years! Thus, the exploration of the sense of life takes priority over man’s healing. Anthropocentrism is axiomatic in western culture, but is it really, or should it be? Is mankind not a grain of rice in the big wheel of life?

We were lucky enough to hear the monks start chanting their prayers in the Grand Sutra Hall before we left the monastery, and set out to the Sangke Grassland where we rode on Mongolian horses. Two teenagers accompanied us and we laughed a lot, trying to communicate. They talked into their smartphones and let an application translate their dialect into English. They were eager to know more about us, and throughout our trip in China we met this curiosity especially among the younger generations.

In the following days, as we made our journey from central China to western China, we did not cross any “white” people. So I got a lot of stares or frowns, a few conniving smiles, and a few spits in front of my feet too. I guess I’d like to say that in an ideal world, the color of skin does not matter. But in our world, it still does. I did not feel insulted though. I just had to “endure” what Mei endures every day of her life. It certainly puts things into perspective…

ZHANGYE

Our following stop along the ancient Silk Road – and certainly one of the most memorable ones – was Zhangye, where Marco Polo started his journey to the East in 1274. We spent a few hours conversing happily with our local guide Tony, who made history come alive and had a knack for compelling storytelling.

In the Giant Buddha Temple, we admired a 35-meter-long wooden reclining statue of Sakyamuni. Its compassionate gaze radiates cheer. And nothing from the outside revealed that it actually hides a five-storey-structure inside its body. In the museum located behind the temple, we were very interested in the displayed artifacts, and above all in the scriptures of the temple’s famous Buddhist library. According to legend, a nun called Yao had the mission to protect these scriptures, some of which are written in gold ink. She ordered the construction of a hideout to keep these sutras in a safe place. But she outdid herself because when she died, she took the secret of the location of the scriptures to her grave. They were only rediscovered many years later.

After a copious lunch, we drove to the Zhangye Danxia National Geopark, a colorful desert landscape. Mei added this geological park to our itinerary because we didn’t get to see the rainbow mountain in Peru. The Chinese version has become a tourist attraction only about 10 years ago. But now it’s already a landmark of Zhangye. As we stood in front of the crimson, tangerine and golden hues of layered sandstone, a storm was moving towards us. The Chinese tourists were still taking selfies. Some dressed up in historical garment for the occasion, while others encouraged their kid to sing the national hymn, holding the Chinese flag or a portrait of Mao.

JIAYUGUAN

When the first raindrops started to fall, our guide Tony and the driver brought us to Jiayuguan, another important stop along the ancient Silk Road. After seeing the wonderful wall paintings in local tombs built between the 3^rd and 5^thcenturies, we climbed up the stunning ancient Great Wall a second time. This section is dubbed the “Overhanging Great Wall”, because it resembles a dragon hanging over a cliffside. From afar, it looks like a dried mud maze that zigzags its way up a stark desert mountain. The steep climb was rather tough with the blazing heat.

A few kilometers from the Great Wall stands the Jiayuguan Pass, a towering mud fortress, which rises out of the desert like a mirage. Under the Ming Dynasty, it was called the “First Pass Under Heaven”. And whoever wanted to enter or leave China at that time had to go through this pass to get a “visa”.

DUNHUANG

Leaving Jiayuguan behind us, we entered the Taklamakan desert. The arid climate was tangible. In Dunhuang, according to our program, we would set out to admire the Singing Sands Dune. It surrounds an oasis, now plagued by a deluge of tourists. The camel ride through the desert was supposed to be the highlight of our trip in Dunhuang. But unfortunately it turned out to be a tourist trap. At first we had to out ourselves in order to stop the camel driver from splitting us up, so that he could squeeze each one of us into a different family caravan. Our local guide Helen had a hard time trying to convince him otherwise. They were yelling at each other so hard that we were ready to give up on the ride. But finally they accepted to reorganize and dispatch us in the same caravan.

As our camels slowly walked up the sand dunes, we tried to understand why so many Chinese tourists wanted to spend time in a desert, if they have to buy plastic bags to prevent the sand from entering their shoes. But soon we understood that for them, the experience of the desert itself is subordinate to taking pictures of oneself in the desert. A modern-life vice?

In Dunhuang, we also mildly appreciated the Mogao Grottoes. These series of caves certainly contain an incredible wealth of Buddhist wall paintings. But the excessive restoration works and the touristy handling of the visit moderated our enthusiasm.

TURPAN

But our interest reignited when we explored the Bezeklik Thousand Buddha Caves in Turpan. Located on the west cliffs of the valley of the reputed Flaming Mountains, which figure in the famous legend Journey to the West, these caves were excavated under the Uyghur Gaochang Kingdom. The frescoes tell fascinating stories about the early spread of Buddhism in China.

But unfortunately most of the murals were damaged by nature, and mostly by man: at first in the mid-15^th century due to the dissemination of Islam in Turpan, then removed by German, British, Russian and Japanese archaeologists in the 19^thcentury, and finally during the Chinese Cultural Revolution. On the ceilings, Buddha portraits have their faces rubbed out. And on the walls, blank patches show that the paintings were removed by 19^th century archaeologists and treasure-seekers. A few of these frescoes can be seen in the Museum of Asian Art in Berlin. But many of them did not survive the Second World War. If only the German archaeologist Albert von le Coq had known that the frescoes were safer in Turpan…

On our second day in Turpan, we visited another – even more interesting – archaeological site, which was Jiaohe Ancient City. As we walked into this large islet, surrounded by two deep rivers, we met only a few Chinese tourists. With their facemasks, scarves and protective gloves, they looked like scientists entering a quarantine zone. In the desert heat, dripping in sweat, we walked along eroded mud walls, crumbled down houses and temples. The complex reminded us of a vanquished kingdom. And we enjoyed the quietness among the ruins. But suddenly a buzzing sound made us look up. A drone was hovering over us and seemed to stalk us long enough for me to get nervous…

Later that day, we stopped at a Muslim-Uyghur family’s home. Two ladies were resting on a wooden bed outside of their front door. We marveled at their traditional home with mixed feelings. We had invaded a private property… And although our local guide Judith bought grapes from them, thus justifying our visit, the desolation of their living room with worn carpets full of nan crumbs put us in a voyeuristic position.

It seems that access to education is not necessarily an important thing for Muslim-Uyghurs. They value afterlife more than their current life, so for many of them education does not matter at all. However, does this really justify their incarceration in re-education camps?

ÜRÜMQI

When we reached Ürümqi, we were glad to leave Xinjiang Province and to fly to Yunnan to explore the ancient Tea-Horse Road. The history and culture of Xinjiang is certainly overwhelming. But our general impression in this province was a feeling of insecurity. The multiple police checkpoints, the weapon detectors disseminated everywhere – may it be at hotel or restaurant entrances, at tourist attractions or railway stations-, as well as the myriad of surveillance cameras left us puzzled and nervous. We’ve both traveled to many countries and regions. But had never had to justify our identity as often as in Xinjiang. May it be by exhibiting our passport or letting a security agent rummaging through our bags. Does the threat of terrorism allow for this? It is a difficult question. One we cannot analyze here in detail, since it would require a different post altogether to do it justice.

The ancient Silk Road was once a string of trading posts, with its natural dangers and robbers. But in essence it was an opportunity to connect heterogeneous cultures. Today it crosses countries that are overcome by terrorism, which is the incarnation of the rejection of heterogeneity. One may wonder whether the East and the West may ever be prepared to peacefully exchange their goods, ideas and religions without igniting wars. We certainly enjoyed admiring the multicultural heritage sites, witnesses of a past when traders hauled caravans of jewels and spices.

The westernized and romantic idea of the Silk Road may be gone. But along the road we still encountered interesting characters and talked to people who opened up, once we were out of sight of a camera. If you want to get insight into regions off the beaten track and see how Islamic and Buddhist cultures interact, then the ancient Silk Road is the way to go.

Pin these for later