July 31st 1984

We awoke when the old man began moving about.  He then woke his wife – like us, they slept in their clothes – + breakfast was soon prepared – tea, bread, cheese, then hot milk.  There followed the one sour note of the stay, when the time came to pay.  First we offered some tinned food that we had brought with us, to which we added 5y, but these were both rejected, with a good deal of hammish sighing, tutting, and head-shaking.  10y was what they wanted, apparently, + if that we weren’t able to give, then they didn’t want anything.  It was, of course, just a ploy, + one which I ignored with no compunction.  We had packed our tins once again, + were on our way out, leaving the 5Y where it lay, when the old man indicated the tins would be acceptable after all… for want of additional hard cash, I suppose.  In the end, our parting was not conducted in a spirit of animosity, but the cordiality was pretty lukewarm, I’m afraid.

An hour brought us back to the ford, where we sat down on a rock + waited for a horse.  Our young horseman, who lived nearby, wandered down to say hello + keep us company, along with several younger relatives.  He didn’t, however, have a horse handy to be able to help us across this time, but as more time passed, + still no other horse came into sight, he went off to see if he could round one up.  I like to think there was at least a measure of altruism in his gesture, to temper the mercenary spirit.  He was successful eventually, + again carried me over first, tho’ as the water was a good bit higher + fiercer, we were in momentary difficulty.  But we made it across OK, + he profited by the experience to carry Val across a gentler stretch.  We thought then that that was the finish of our troubles, but we arrived back at the lake to discover that overnight the river had flooded + washed out part of the bridge.  Awkward, especially since it was now much later than we had thought, + we had to be back for the bus at 4.  There were a couple of Germans there who had spent the night in tourist yurts, also hoping to get back across for the bus, + they were planning, should no horseman come along, to wade over at about 1 o’clock.  We would have been forced to do the same – I even went to the length of searching out stout walking-sticks for us both – but luckily that didn’t prove necessary, as a horse + rider appeared.  We made known our wishes, he dismounted + I climbed back up into the saddle.  He then handed me the whip + reins, + indicated I should go off, clearly having no idea that I didn’t know how to drive the brute.  We made it clear he was needed at least as co-pilot, so he took my pack, climbed up behind, + directed the animal from behind me.  Again, an exhilarating ride, or even more so, perhaps, for the animal was larger, the river fiercer, the banks steeper, + I was up front, so could give myself the illusion of being the cowboy.  He then returned for the other 3 in turn, for which we paid him 2Y.  He seemed happy enough with this payment at the time, tho’ he clearly had second thoughts, for a little way along the trail he stopped + waited for us, to enquire whether the money was for all 4 of us.

Val + I took the high path on the way back, so as not to have to wade into the lake again, + soon outpaced our companions – we are, at the moment, by our own standards, reasonably fit.  It was, nonetheless, a tough walk, with many ups + downs, but we made fair time, + had a couple of hours to spare at the other end – we sat in the sunshine, + read.  We already had our bus tickets for the return journey, but the scene was of utter chaos, increasing the nearer it drew to 4 o’clock, with people wandering around clutching pieces of paper, confusedly wandering from one bus to another.  A lot of people, including most of the whiteys present, piled into the front bus, but, partly out of natural perversity, partly because we’d already been told that wasn’t our bus, we held back.  I wasn’t at all sure we’d done the right thing, especially when it pulled out bang on time, but much to our surprise, our bus arrived shortly after – we were even able to claim our rightful seats.

The journey back was almost uneventful – I wish it had been entirely so.  But about half-way back we were stopped by a jeep, its driver absolutely irate.  Apparently as he had overtaken us he had an apple core thrown at him, + he wanted the culprit.  He had a core as evidence – it can’t possibly have been the true offending article – + he wanted the culprit.  He stood on the road next to the bus, + ranted + raved + danced + raged – matters were not improved when someone aboard threw a plastic bag with a few apples in it out to him, for he now had confirmatory evidence, which he proceeded to show to everyone.  It meant nothing of course, but to his mind it was irrefutable proof.  Eventually, however, he seemed to have had his say, and off we drove.

It was bit a brief reprieve.  Half an hour we were stopped again, this time by Public Security, + out popped the man again.  He’d enlisted their aid to do his dirty work for him.  And the whole row of accusation + counter-accusation began all over again, only this time fortissimo, more violent than before, with everybody on the bus joining in to attack this man.  But having gone so far, he couldn’t back down, + he rejoined the struggle even more ferociously.  He may even have won his way, for Val was sure someone was taken from the bus.  For myself, I can’t say, for I didn’t notice, nor did I care.  All I did know was that this silly, petty, pathetic little man had held us up for so long when I wanted to get back, to eat, to wash, to rest. 

The final straw which broke my temper was that we arrived back via a different route, one which didn’t pass by our hotel, so that we were carried all the way to the terminal, from where we had to bus back.  Met Dan + Lisa at reception, just signing in, just back from Kashgar after having both been struck down with sickness.  There were rumours that the hotel was full, but we 4 had no trouble, tho’, oddly, we were told we could only stay one night.  This bothered Val + I not one jot.  An American couple there told us first that they wouldn’t let us stay, tho’ they did, + secondly that my student card would never be accepted in the dining room,  tho’ it had been before, + was, in fact, this time too – it just shows just how much you should listen to other people.  There was, admittedly, a bit of a struggle in the dining room with my card being perused by about 4 members of staff, but eventually it was passed.  The waitress even apologised for the fuss, which made me feel a bit guilty… only a bit mind.  But the joke was on me in the end for the meal was fairly revolting.

Andrew was at the hotel too, along with Loony Lizzie, a big-mouthed American, + we all joined up for a sort of party in the room of some “foreign experts” teaching in Urumqi.  But there was not nearly enough booze, + the party fell flat.   But we tried.

A shame that our stay in the yurt ended so awkwardly – that is the trouble with partial, or out of date, information, leading to disputes as to what should have been right. And the horse-riding adventure was fun, another story to tell. But we could have done without the incident with the apple core and the angry man, which held us up, when we were desperate to be back. Ah well.