I loved the night train. The extremely bijou but comfortable sleepers. Watching Beijing disappear into the darkness. Opening a beer and chatting with other travellers before drifting off to the gentle rhythm of the track. Waking up and seeing a powerstation and a few dilapitated buildings... looking out of the opposite side to see a range of rather nice hills. 1200km later, there we were in Xi'an. Barging our way out of the station (I'm so kiasu now!) I could see immediately that I was going to like this place.
We took a morning walk through the Muslim quarter. Again I had to escape the group so that I could take the time I needed to watch a butcher attack a mountain of hooves. photograph the carcass-man who pushed his cart from shop to shop collecting ribcages and spines and other almost bare bones. People cooked up interesting looking things in vats of oil, worked at sewing machines on street corners and pushed towering loads on handcarts and bicycles. I love these streets, where people go about their daily lives and the exoticness (is that a word?) is heightened by the fact that for everyone but you, this is normal. I could wander places like this for hours, maybe days.
Eventually I made my way to the Grand Mosque, which is quite unlike any other mosque I have ever seen. Inside what is essentially a walled garden there are a number of pagodas, each of which had its own purpose when the mosque was active. In the centre is a three tier circular building (pagoda?) which apparently served as a minaret. It was a beautifully low-key place, old wooden buildings blending easily into the serene garden.
We took a morning walk through the Muslim quarter. Again I had to escape the group so that I could take the time I needed to watch a butcher attack a mountain of hooves. photograph the carcass-man who pushed his cart from shop to shop collecting ribcages and spines and other almost bare bones. People cooked up interesting looking things in vats of oil, worked at sewing machines on street corners and pushed towering loads on handcarts and bicycles. I love these streets, where people go about their daily lives and the exoticness (is that a word?) is heightened by the fact that for everyone but you, this is normal. I could wander places like this for hours, maybe days.
Eventually I made my way to the Grand Mosque, which is quite unlike any other mosque I have ever seen. Inside what is essentially a walled garden there are a number of pagodas, each of which had its own purpose when the mosque was active. In the centre is a three tier circular building (pagoda?) which apparently served as a minaret. It was a beautifully low-key place, old wooden buildings blending easily into the serene garden.
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