I have to say that arriving in the ancient city of Xian felt bitter sweat. On one hand we felt extremely jubilant that we had travelled from one end of the Silk Road to the other. On the other hand we felt disappointed that Xian marked the end of one section of our journey.
It is hard to put into words the exact feelings we experienced, but in the simplest terms, we felt an extraordinary sense of satisfaction arriving at the final terminal of the Silk Road. I think it boils down to the fact that we had followed in the same footsteps of people from a time gone by and had to overcome the same challenges and face the same treacherous side of mother nature as they did. Having said that, our experience was made a hundred times easier by driving a motorised vehicle and travelling on tarred roads and it is this knowledge that has given us a huge amount of respect for those who completed the journey in a more rudimentary way. For me, the realization of what the first travellers accomplished should be put into the same context as sailing around the world or climbing Mt Everest – they achieved a truly remarkable feat!
Funnily enough our first night in Xian may have resembled the practices of a trading caravan. As per usual we arrived late at night in another Chinese city (Xian). Yet again we were unable to find a enclosed car park (to camp in) , so in a modern day ‘Silk Road Traveller Style’ I launched Miranda up the nearest curb; parked outside a noodle shop; packed our guide off into the budget-of-budget guest houses and then bedded down in the van. The next morning we woke to the sound of rain and a little old Chinese granny heckling us to get off her pavement. As we peeled the curtains open we were startled to see a market had set up all around us; leaving hardly enough space for Chrissy to squeeze out of barely open van door.
Feeling scorned, we departed our nights resting point like a dog with its tail between its legs. As I watched the granny (who was still shaking her walking stick at us) fade away in my rear view mirror it struck me what a strange phenomenon it is, that despite their petite appearance, grannies from all over the world have unique ability to instill an awful amount of fear in the younger generation. This thought disappeared quickly with the thought of what lay ahead that day – visiting the Terracotta Army. I had read about the Terracotta Army in the National Geographic when I was a teenager and the prospect of visiting the site made me feel incredibly excited. This time I think I will just let the pictures do the talking.
What an experience!
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