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On a hot afternoon, sitting amid the packed crowds of tourists at Kalajun, I became even more convinced of one thing: only at dawn and dusk can you truly see Xinjiang’s gentlest side.

At Sayram Lake, there are no noisy travel photo shoots or endless

traffic jams.

At Kalajun, after the last shuttle bus has left; at Xiata, after saying goodbye to the big tour groups rushing in and out—

in the mountains of Qiaxi, where only a few herding families live,

on a lonely hillside in Baihaba, in the dim old alleys of Kashgar,

and in the morning mist of Kanas—let’s forget those massive scenic areas like Nalati and Bayan for a moment.

Only at times like these does Xinjiang take out the very last treasure it has tucked away at the bottom of the chest

and share it heart to heart with travelers. Xinjiang in the blue hour is a different Xinjiang.

If you’re planning a trip to Xinjiang too, here’s a piece of advice that’s not really advice:

Even if time is tight and conditions are basic, try your best to stay inside the scenic area.

Leave the long drives to the blazing sun,

and keep dawn and dusk for yourself.

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