To Kashgar and beyond in Xinjiang, China’s wild west

I am almost flattened by a charging donkey at the Sunday livestock market in Kashgar, a town in the far west of Xinjiang province. The mount is being test ridden by a Han Chinese trader at a furious pace, dust kicking up beneath whirling hooves, and if it wasn’t for the warning shout of “Boish! Boish!” I would certainly have been trampled underhoof.

It would be foolish to make a purchase of something as important as a donkey without a test ride, so I can forgive the trader.

Xinjiang fan Josh Summers’ ultimate travel guide to the region

Elsewhere amid this fascinating melee of camels, horses and mules, hundreds of sheep are packed tightly into pens or being roughly manhandled on and off rusty flatbed trucks, with much shouting and exchanges of views on the size, quality and health of the animals. Uygur farmers bargain roughly, too, shouting and slapping hands in great theatrical gestures as a deal is struck and a sheep is led balefully away by a rope knotted to its horns to a new life on a new truck. The unluckiest of the animals make it only to the nearby tar­paulin restaurants, to be unceremoni­ously dispatched and chopped up to fill the mutton pastries being cooked on a roaring fire.

The market may be in China, but it’s about as far removed from Beijing – both geographically and culturally – as it’s possible to be in the country. Locals complain about the imposition of Beijing time, which means it doesn’t get light in Kashgar until 10am and the sun doesn’t set until close to midnight, and they protest the heavy police presence and the lack of a firewall-free internet. But there have been benefits; the mosque is still open for business and attended by thousands of worshippers every day; and the roads have been improved, farmers now travelling to market by electric tricycle instead of having to coax a reluctant, wooden-cart-pulling donkey along dirt roads. This is unfortu­nate for the camera-toting tourist but is no doubt a great relief to the farmers.