A donkey cart slowly passing through, swaying along over the sea of sand. In Charchan it is easy to lose track of time.

Tashkurgan, on the China-Pakistan border. At this beautiful little village inhabited by Tajiks, travellers coming and going between the two countries can rest their legs..

On the east side of the town, bustling Uyghur street stalls stand side by side. People work hard at their trade, or steal a nap in the shade, and energetic children play. Under the gentle sunshine, this town bursts with so many different expressions.

If you leave Urumqi, the capital of Xinjiang, and head west towards Kashgar, you can feel, in the towns you pass, a sense of being in another, Islamic country. There are also scattered Buddhist ruins left by the Aryan peoples

A corner of Kashgar. The landscape of the town, riddled like a maze with charming alleyways, shows us a fragile vision of time rewound.

Hotan. They say on some days such clouds of dust blow up that you cannot see in front of you. The vague shapes floating beyond the dust clouds are the real thing: an ancient oasis city.

Grasslands stretch away before you as you emerge from the area where the Uyghurs live. A dazzling vision of blue sky opening out above a carpet of grass.