Hotan City / Hetian

Initially, we intended to travel across the Taklamakan to Hotan, allegedly there was supposed to be a bus from Kuqa, but according to information at the bus station, such a connection did not exist. Not willing to pay for private transport, we decided to take the train via Kashgar. 14 hours, about 1200 km, and this time there were even soft sleeper seats for us, in a four-bed compartment with a door! We could even sleep fairly well, even though we were awakened in the middle of the night by the police wanting to see our passports and know the reason for our trip. With a delay of over 3 hours, we arrived in Hotan and were pleased that our hotel this time was much better located with lots of action around, booths and restaurants, fruit and vegetable stands, shops, and a small night market in the pedestrian zone. Quite irritating for us was that it was a complete smoking hotel, where people actually smoked everywhere and ash was spread around. In our room, it was somewhat bearable and only smelled a little, but generally, it wasn’t great for our mucous membranes irritated by the dryness. It’s hard to imagine that it used to be normal for us to smoke indoors; even the chain-smoking Indonesians don’t do that! The hotel staff was quite excited that we were there, likely due to a strict registration procedure. Everyone was very eager and wanted us to feel comfortable but seemed unsure of what the rarely sighted species foreigners needed to survive. So, each time we passed the reception or encountered cleaning staff, we were handed huge amounts of water, fresh towels, or shampoo. And one glossy brochure issued by the tourism authority with sights in the area (or even hundreds of kilometers away) - unfortunately completely useless for us.

So we set out ourselves to find Hotan's highlights, but that only worked to a limited extent. Museums were either permanently closed or too redundant compared to the places we had previously visited. The visit to the Yotkan Ancient City was completely absurd. It was a completely reconstructed fantasy city that resembled a movie set from an old Western (just with a desert Silk Road theme). High admission fee, and then it was mainly a construction site with no activity. Periodically, Uighur-like performances were offered - apparently heavily adapted to Chinese tastes. There were some slightly dressed ladies dancing to oriental dance beats, a group of children trying unsuccessfully to move synchronously on a staircase, a Uighur wedding dance with distorted playback singing, portraying a half-hearted bride kidnapping. We doubt that the chosen song is traditionally sung in Mandarin. The next day we were taken to a well-rated viewpoint outside of the city in the desert, where there were supposed to be hiking trails. Ultimately, we ended up in a garbage-laden nowhere looking at a power plant - that’s what they probably call industrial romance. Nearby we found a kind of desert park offering all kinds of children’s entertainment like big slides or camel riding - everything in miserable condition and without visitors. From there we could take an undisturbed long walk through the desert with a surprisingly beautiful dune landscape, over which the hot wind swept. That had to be enough to get an idea of the Taklamakan and how difficult it must have been to cross it. With the help of the staff who seemed to be dozing in the shade waiting for probably never arriving tourist flows, we got transport back to the city as we were quite out of the way. Perhaps an area where a knowledgeable guide with a sense of what western tourists find nice and interesting would have been helpful! But it was fun, and we made the best of it.

The food was again a dream, and the big Hotan night market was really great, just like the booths in our neighborhood. The people were friendly towards us, especially teenagers wanted to chat with us - with hardly any English knowledge, Marike's broken Chinese, and a translation app, we managed to communicate quite well. And Freddy's beard was a big hit!

However, Hotan was also the place where one could no longer ignore the already massive surveillance in China and the absurd police and military presence in Xinjiang. We had the honor of being visited by the police chief who questioned us, smoking, in the lobby about our intentions and travel plans in Xinjiang. That Marike could tell this in Chinese was helpful and quickly satisfied him. Although only his demeanor was authoritative, a proof photo of the questioning had to be made for his superiors. In the city, here and there stood a tank and at every corner police and military, often heavily armed. We were checked several times, but always friendly and without further complications, and probably also monitored and followed! Traveling by taxi, there were also police checks, and the poor taxi drivers were also inspected more closely. So much attention; we almost felt flattered. It was creepy when we saw numerous military vehicles driving through the streets from our hotel room on the 11th floor early in the morning and heard the sound of assault rifles firing. Unclear whether it was a drill or a chase. Whatever is going on here!

When we returned to the train station on our last day to go to Kashgar, we were quite sure that people were specifically assigned to ensure we actually took the booked ride (as always linked to our passport numbers). A poor and grumpy policeman had to check us again on the train, we suspect he had to wait a long time for the train to return after the next stop, as they don’t run that frequently. But of course, it also creates jobs!

Hotan - a special place and perhaps not a dream vacation destination, but with nice people. We learned a lot, were amazed, and had a good time!