If it seems like all I did was move from place to place- well it felt that way to me too. In planning for this trip, I had underestimated what it would take to do the individual tasks that at home are easy and fast, plus I was trying to solve my computer issues, so it felt like I was constantly on the move the first few days.
To get the train to Kashgar, I needed to get to a town about 50 km away, whose name I do not recall, but again with Google’s help, I got the hotel desk clerk to arrange a car to take me. The train was to leave at 1:14 am, and given my fresh experience in how long it can take to get through the process of picking up the ticket I’d bought online, and the various security checks, I arranged for a pick up at 10 pm. The clerk walked me out to the car and I confirmed the price, and off we went.
After about 5 minutes of driving through Tulufan, the driver pulled over and a second man got in the front seat. I reacted strongly and loudly, alarming all of us, I think. I was talking in English and the driver and the new passenger responded in Chinese. So the driver, apparently not knowing what to do, alternately pulled over, proceeded slowly, appeared to be about to turn around, and finally stopped.
I have read many times of travelers being coerced into large payments at best, or robbed or more at worst when a second person gets in the car. I had one experience of that kind in Almaty 5 years ago, and I was quite alarmed when this new development took place. However, I was almost immediately partially eased by the response of the driver and the passenger. Both were clearly confused and uncertain, which is not the demeanor I would have likely seen if they were up to something. Also, the ride had been arranged by the front desk at the hotel. But I had no way to ask the questions I wanted to ask. I wasn’t able to use my Google app translation, because there were bars between the front and back, and I would have had to let them actually hold my phone to read it. It was about 10 pm, quite dark, and I really didn’t know what to do. My pack was in the trunk, so jumping out wasn’t a good option anyway.
Fortunately, at that point the driver thought to call the front desk clerk, who had just a few words of English. While I really could not ask her anything, just the fact that he called her to talk to me decided me to take the chance. So I said “ok, ok, ok” and we took off into the desert. I was nodding off from time to time, and once woke up when we slowed sharply to find we were driving through a sandstorm, much like a whiteout in a midwestern snowstorm. I could just make out the lines on the side of the road nearest me, but could see nothing ahead. The driver kept going straight, while the passenger appeared to be encouraging and helping. Then suddenly it ended and we drove on through the desert.
We pulled into a lot in front of a deserted store front in a small town, the driver turned off the key and I heard the trunk pop, so I got out and asked the driver where to go using my hands to help convey my meaning. He pointed down the street but I could see nothing resembling a train station. Then he saw two people walking and carrying luggage and pointed them out to me, called out to them and sent me on my way. I followed the two strangers in the darkness to the station. The wind was blowing fiercely and I was glad of my coat. The station itself appeared fairly quickly. But how to get inside was a puzzle and I’d have been in a pickle without having the two people in front of me. Each train station, bus station and anything like it has had tall fences or walls, multiple outbuildings for security screening and various contortions of pathways added at some time in the past. Looking at the station head on, it appeared to be inside an impenetrable fortress.
But there was a side entrance to a small building where at least 10 officers were hanging out. The process was to put my bags through a metal detector, hand over my passport and the printout showing I had bought a ticket.
I had to carry two passports during my time in China, because I have a 10 year tourist visa in the old one (why? I do not know), but I have a newer passport. Already I had figured out the best way to not confuse things, given my lack of Chinese language skills. I would hand over the current passport, they would confirm and enter my details in their computer or physical log, confirm the entry stamp, and then start paging through the passport. I would then say “visa?” and hand over the old passport with the pages open to the China visa that is valid (there is an older 30 day visa in that passport as well). Rarely do I have to give any further explanation, other than once or twice pointing to the holes punched in the old one and saying “old”- they seem to know what the holes indicate. If I hand both over together, they might enter the old passport number before realizing and that might a) cause problems in their central tracking place thereby causing me trouble later, or b) might cause the person who did it to lose face and they might want me to suffer for it. Most of the people I interacted with about my passport were fairly nice, but some gave the impression of being demi-gods in their own worlds. The only surprise is that none of the officers so far has asked me about my plans beyond my next destination.
The woman who interviewed me was pleasant. She used a translation app on her phone to ask me questions, and I used mine to answer. It is just a kind of strange sensation to be standing in a sort of trailer in the dark night in a vast desert and communicating with a person using our phones.
Then I was off to wait in line for my ticket in another building, and finally granted entrance to the station, where I waited for my train. When a train was coming in, a woman wearing a portable mike would announce things that were distorted and loud, but of course which were in Chinese. By watching the electronic notice board, I was able to figure out how to tell which trains were boarding. The train numbers and times were given in both Chinese and English, so when the time came, I too went and stood in line.
I got a four person sleeper compartment to myself, and went to sleep shortly after the train pulled out of the station. In the morning I woke to mud/brick buildings juxtaposed with modern high rises, industrial complexes in the middle of absolutely nothing, apparent wastelands interspersed with threads of grapevine covered passageways, and dust, dust everywhere. We moved through mostly gravel/sand empty spaces between towns.
I went to the empty dining car, and after some effort, convinced the waiter that I’d like to eat. No menu, just food brought- some sort of pickled mix, cold cooked squash, a boiled egg, and later a tasteless broth. I thought I’d shoot for the moon and asked “coffee?” She said no. I asked “chai?” which is the name for tea. No. She said something else and I nodded yes, not really sure what I was getting. It turned out to be hot water, and I found that was the way water was served in all the restaurants I ate- not as hot as tea water, but quite warm.
The photos I took out the window are quite poor, in part due to the dirty windows and in part because the air was hazy and full of either sand or pollution or maybe both. It stayed that way until I got to Kyrgyzstan. I do not know what people with breathing issues would do here.
Breakfast 
Attempt at a selfie 
To see what I could see 