The desert roads are so lonely and bleak. Staring out into the emptiness one wonders how one could go across such distances without an a/c vehicle with comfort seating. Even with our van it seemed we wouldn't make it. Winds would whip up wondrous curtains of sand and slam them into the side of the van. Sometimes the whole road would be disappear. A thick blanket of blinding white would replace what was once a freeway. After 4 hours of stifling hot heat, 3 second hand cigarettes, and and one bathroom break, we arrived.
Dunhuang
Dunhuang
In the morning I was awoken by screams. I opened the window and saw a woman running frantically with her hands covering her eyes. A gloomy yellow haze resembling filled the sky resembling some sort of nuclear winter.
My first sand storm!
I packed my bags and left the hotel. Outside people covered their heads with plastic bags to protect themselves from the sand bullets. People ran in every which way looking for some sort of protection. I saw this as a great opportunity to really experience a sand storm. I hailed a taxi and headed for the desert.
The sand dunes in Dunhuang are something you would expect to see in the Sahrah desert. A 40 by 20 km area of ever changing sand. I checked into a guesthouse at the foot of the dunes, grabbed my swimming goggles, and headed into the storm.
Climbing a sand dune is harder than you think. Every two steps I took I went back one. The small hill I thought I could run up took me over an hour to ascend. Even arriving at the top wasn't very inspiring. The thick dust stirred up from the wind had obliterated anything that might resemble a view. With the wind getting even stronger at the peak of the dune my flipflopless feet were taking most of the beating. Even with my handy swim goggles and tight clothes the sand somehow penetrated into every hole in my body.
Things would have to wait....
September 8th, 5:30 Am
The bright stars in the clear sky were the only lights to guide us through the black desert. When we started the trek I could only use my memory to guide us through the sand valleys. As the sun crawled its way up the horizon tall black mountains slowly rose around us. In the distance our destination came into view. The highest dune in the Gobi dessert, over 1000 meters above sea level.*
People usually relate climbing dunes with perspiration and sunburns. I relate it with shivers and windburns. The sun had not yet breached the clumpy clouds that sat on the horizon when we reached the top. For a few minutes it felt like we had the whole desert to ourselves. Just when the sun finally began to rise and warm the air I heard the screams; I couldn't believe it, in the distance we could see them struggling to go over a dune.
The Red Army
Their incoherent senseless shouts could be heard across the whole desert. Their neon pink booties and bright red hat protected them from the sand and helped the tour guide keep track of them. I had seen, heard, smelt, and been disgusted by them before. Their rude 'HeLLUUU!" screams at me trying to gain face from fellow tour groupies made me flinch. Their pictures in front of rocks and writing on walls made me wonder. Their complete lack of respect for anyone or anything that they came across made me angry.
My first sand storm!
I packed my bags and left the hotel. Outside people covered their heads with plastic bags to protect themselves from the sand bullets. People ran in every which way looking for some sort of protection. I saw this as a great opportunity to really experience a sand storm. I hailed a taxi and headed for the desert.
The sand dunes in Dunhuang are something you would expect to see in the Sahrah desert. A 40 by 20 km area of ever changing sand. I checked into a guesthouse at the foot of the dunes, grabbed my swimming goggles, and headed into the storm.
Climbing a sand dune is harder than you think. Every two steps I took I went back one. The small hill I thought I could run up took me over an hour to ascend. Even arriving at the top wasn't very inspiring. The thick dust stirred up from the wind had obliterated anything that might resemble a view. With the wind getting even stronger at the peak of the dune my flipflopless feet were taking most of the beating. Even with my handy swim goggles and tight clothes the sand somehow penetrated into every hole in my body.
Things would have to wait....
September 8th, 5:30 Am
The bright stars in the clear sky were the only lights to guide us through the black desert. When we started the trek I could only use my memory to guide us through the sand valleys. As the sun crawled its way up the horizon tall black mountains slowly rose around us. In the distance our destination came into view. The highest dune in the Gobi dessert, over 1000 meters above sea level.*
People usually relate climbing dunes with perspiration and sunburns. I relate it with shivers and windburns. The sun had not yet breached the clumpy clouds that sat on the horizon when we reached the top. For a few minutes it felt like we had the whole desert to ourselves. Just when the sun finally began to rise and warm the air I heard the screams; I couldn't believe it, in the distance we could see them struggling to go over a dune.
The Red Army
Their incoherent senseless shouts could be heard across the whole desert. Their neon pink booties and bright red hat protected them from the sand and helped the tour guide keep track of them. I had seen, heard, smelt, and been disgusted by them before. Their rude 'HeLLUUU!" screams at me trying to gain face from fellow tour groupies made me flinch. Their pictures in front of rocks and writing on walls made me wonder. Their complete lack of respect for anyone or anything that they came across made me angry.
I can't say every tour group is like this, but a lot are.
Anyways they ruined the moment, so we left the dune, left the guesthouse, and left the city.
*this information was taken by a peasent trying to sell me a ride on his quad. I cant prove its authenticity.
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