Xin Rong Urumqi

... was to be visas - we did not have a Kyrgyzstan visa and although we had heard that these were available on arrival at Bishkek airport, sometimes things in Central Asia change. We convinced the Chinese immigration officers that we would be fine and they let us leave China, although with the warning that we would not be allowed back in with our current visas. So with some trepidation and crossed fingers, we boarded our flight to Bishkek...

... Next on the list was drinking slushies and beer in the park, then KTV. We figured an hour of KTV would probably do the trick, but ended up yowling away for about 3 instead. Finally, after noodles and beer we parted company. I was extremely happy to have met Ma Jun and sad to see him go. The next day, LX and his uncle took me to the airport. I was already out of sorts in the morning. I had had a fantastic time in Xinjiang. I had met so many lovely people ...

... the curiosity was even more noticeable when walking around with LX (Han) and Ma Jun (Hui) than usual. After being very nice, but glancing at me surreptitiously when she thought I wasn't looking, the waitress finally couldn't contain herself and the question "Which race is she?" burst out from her lips. I can see if I come back to Xinjiang I am going to have to have a t-shirt made with this information printed on it in order to stop people from dying of curiosity regarding my heritage.

... that I have become much too impatient since I moved to the PRC. After this incident I really must agree with her. While it is all very useful to possess a glare that can scare off military police, it does make me wonder what the guy would have done if confronted with a knife-toting terrorist instead of an English teacher. I guess his training didn't cover impatient women. We went out for coffee, before heading back to the hotel to meet with a travel agent to book me in for the Kanas ...

... her to help me send a message to my Mum telling her I was fine, could not call out and to tell her the hotel number. JV was one of the few people in China who knew for sure where I was, which was why I called her. I didn't want to go getting even more people worried about me being here in Xinjiang. She readily agreed, but unfortunately while I could talk to JV and JV could talk to my mum, Mum and I still couldn't manage to talk to ...

... As someone who was a journalist or a spy trying, in their eyes, to twist a tragedy in order to attack China. Not sympathetic and not a friend. This feeling stayed with me until I got my bags and went to a bookshop to wait for LX. The shop keeper treated me normally. LX was his usual self. The taxi driver was friendly and made efforts to calm my nerves by telling me not to worry about all the police and road blocks. I told him I wasn't the slightest bit worried about road blocks ...

... with us for most of our 30 or so day's travels. And the thought of food - or even alcohol - was nauseating.

The Hoi Tak Hotel puts on a great evening Smorgasbord, with special treats such as Russian smoked salmon and caviar, lavish seafood (despite Urumqi being known as the city furtherest away from a coastline in the world) a great variety of meat and poultry dishes and a wonderful display of both Asian and European foods.

Neither of us could face such a ...

... bags fuller and heavier won out. Looking at people who'd been dead for three or four thousand years wasn't as gruesome as you might think. They were mostly clothed, and they'd been thoroughly dried out in the desert long before they were discovered, so the little skin that was exposed looked more like medium-brown leather than like human skin. (For more information, see http://discovermagazine.com/1994/apr/th emummiesofxinj359.)

... upmarket so I took a cab to #2 choice, the Xinjiang Hotel. Rated 2 stars but I didn't find out what a roach hotel it was until I got to my room. While I was at the front counter, there was a Pakistani (?) guy trying to do creative accounting with his hotel bill, and there was a lecherous-looking middle-aged man (Pakistani or Central Asian) who tried jumping the queue. Add chest hair and very unbottoned shirt to ...

... had seen some kids playing in earlier. Had also hoped to have a wander around a cemetery we had seen on the bus on the way here, but somehow missed it on the way home. Relaxing dinner at the nightmarket, consisting mostly of good meat and withered vegetables being kebabed. Supposedly there was to be Uyghur music at some point, but we just ended up with Uyghurs karaoke'ing Chinese music poorly. It was a nice evening though, with even the stars ...