Kanas Lake Monster Replicates Itself!

National Week in China's recreational areas: Be Afraid! Overrun does little to describe the anthill that the most remote area in China became when we visited Altay and Kanas Lake. But I digress...

The drive from Urumqi to Altay and on to Kanas was lovely. In Xinjiang Province, wherever there is a city, there is an oasis of poplar trees, reeds, marshes and a greenbelt. Outside of the city, it is a grassland with cows and sheep grazing together in defiance of the Range Wars mentality of our Old West. In fact, the scene could be a ranch in Colorado or Montana but for the occasional herd of Bactrian camels or yurts standing in the fields.

We stopped to have a look at some deer stones, petroglyphs and rock carvings that looked Celtic to me, and were drawn to a nearby yurt where a family in residence invited us in to the communal home. Like the arbor-covered courtyards of Turpan, the interior of the yurt was carpeted in brillian carpets, all the way to the high ceiling, and a little boy was working on his homework, a baby was playing on the floor, and we were all nibbling on rock-hard pieces of tangy yogurt offered to us by the lady of the yurt. It was a nice bit of serendipity!

The undulating landscape offers a new vista at every turn. Sandy dunes yield to grasslands and then to a rocky moonscape, and then to a poplar-lined promenade in towns: if you don't like the view, wait 5 minutes. Altay prefecture is a textbook case of glacier geology: a wide valley embraced by dagger-sharp mountains, complete with cirques, aretes, pushing down moraine and till, and leaving a loess area where big round sheep pick their way around big round rocks. The river which runs to the Arctic is brilliant turquoise, and the lake itself is stuning in blues and greens, framed by golden birch trees. That is, when you can actually see the lake through the swarm of humanity! Our accommodations at the lake, for one night were old Russian dachas converted to modest Chinese dorms: not recommended.

Russian culture here is prominent. Architecture, language, ethnicities...our Khazak guide got us through the worst of the crowds as a highly-placed member of the tourism ministry, and we were treated to the honored guest routine (toast after toast) at a Russian Dancing and Sinning (sic) restaurant.

The 7-hour flight delay for our return to Urumqi was the unfortunate conclusion of this leg of the trip, but a noisy group of Cantonese travellers who demanded compensation for their trouble provided a high bit of drama and entertainment: in the end, everyone received a $25 refund on their $60 ticket, which turned into a nice tip for David and our local Uigur guide, Dolkun.

Back to the Silk Road...