Last kilometers
I want to go as quickly as possible to Zhangye and I always ask how many kilometers are left, and if there are airplanes between Xinjiang and Mongolia. Since we are on a sand-filled road under construction, with piles of sand in the middle of it, and dad who as a photojournalist stops everywhere, the journey takes twice as long. We drive on, go up and down the mountains and the car bounces all over the place. I feel like we’re going around the same place for hours now. After a while, we encounter a rich Tibetan and Mongolian family that camp in this region. Since they are natural travelers, we ask them how to go to Zhangye. They recommend the road we are taking despite it being under construction. We continue our route after dad finishes his lamb soup, which he found delicious. I am impatient to arrive as quickly as possible to Zhangye. We arrive in a village a few minutes later and dad gets angry because he can’t find an inspiring place to eat. I think he’s careful to go to places where we won’t get sick. We are in a restaurant belonging to a Hui family where the girls stare at me; in China, my eyebrows are popular with the girls. The master of the place is a chubby man and by talking to him, I understand that he has a son the same age as me. We take a picture all together and after, we resume our journey. The journey is cooler because I don’t argue with Liu Jia anymore. In one village, dad notices a group of people with their heads covered in black, but when he approaches them to photograph them, they run away. Later, we understand that they are people who work illegally in the mines to earn a little money. So, we go on the road again. After a few hours, we end up on a national highway that is in much better condition than the little mountain route we were on. On this highway, the workers are on the side and obstacles are rare. We finally arrive at Zhangye.
I want to go as quickly as possible to Zhangye and I always ask how many kilometers are left, and if there are airplanes between Xinjiang and Mongolia. Since we are on a sand-filled road under construction, with piles of sand in the middle of it, and dad who as a photojournalist stops everywhere, the journey takes twice as long. We drive on, go up and down the mountains and the car bounces all over the place. I feel like we’re going around the same place for hours now. After a while, we encounter a rich Tibetan and Mongolian family that camp in this region. Since they are natural travelers, we ask them how to go to Zhangye. They recommend the road we are taking despite it being under construction. We continue our route after dad finishes his lamb soup, which he found delicious. I am impatient to arrive as quickly as possible to Zhangye. We arrive in a village a few minutes later and dad gets angry because he can’t find an inspiring place to eat. I think he’s careful to go to places where we won’t get sick. We are in a restaurant belonging to a Hui family where the girls stare at me; in China, my eyebrows are popular with the girls. The master of the place is a chubby man and by talking to him, I understand that he has a son the same age as me. We take a picture all together and after, we resume our journey. The journey is cooler because I don’t argue with Liu Jia anymore. In one village, dad notices a group of people with their heads covered in black, but when he approaches them to photograph them, they run away. Later, we understand that they are people who work illegally in the mines to earn a little money. So, we go on the road again. After a few hours, we end up on a national highway that is in much better condition than the little mountain route we were on. On this highway, the workers are on the side and obstacles are rare. We finally arrive at Zhangye.
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