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Dunhuang is an oasis town with a lively market tucked back from
the busy main drag. The people watching was endlessly interesting. Chess
and pool games played on in the marketplace under the shade of tarpaulins,
while scallion pancakes were fried and people dug into big steaming
bowls of soup with unidentifiyable ingredients poking out of the hot
broth. Motorcycles were a popular mode of transportation here, the seats
of which were usually draped with the sort of rug also used under a
camel's saddle.
One early morning, by the light of a full moon, we got on the bus and
drove out of town into the desert to watch the sun come up. We sat on
the barren ground and waited. All was quiet except for an occasional
call of a cuckoo bird in the distance. Back on the bus we ate our picnic
breakfasts and continued on for many miles through the flat barren landscape
with a distant view of the snowy Qi Lian mountains keeping us company
the whole time. Finally we arrived at the western end of the Great Wall.
Here there isn't much left of the wall as it's mud bricks, the same
color as the ground they rise from, slowly break down and get swallowed
up by the desert.
See some of my journal pages
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