Turpan is the second-lowest depression in the world, making it also the hottest place in China. The town sits in northern Xinjiang at 154m below sea level, and when we arrived it was a sweltering 43°. I didn’t check the real-feel, but as we stepped off the train, a strong wind hit us, and it literally felt like hot air blowing out of a fan-assisted oven. 

We checked into a very Xinjiang-themed hotel room, featuring grape wallpaper and typical Central Asian patterned fabric. A Uyghur food market was around the corner from us, but it was very meat-based and only just starting to open at 8pm. So we continued looking for food when a group of kids started throwing rocks at us – something we’ve never come across before in China. 

Eventually we found a lady selling cold noodles which was pretty much the only thing we could stomach in the hot weather. For just £1.10 she gave us a huge plate of noodles topped with coriander, shredded cucumber, and peanuts which we washed down with iced lemonade (which was warm within five minutes). 

As for activities in Turpan, my main reason for visiting was to see Tuyuq, a mud-brick Uyghur village that acts as a living museum. It’s been a Muslim pilgrimage site for centuries, and the hillside is home to important tombs, one of which is said to hold the first Uyghur to convert to Islam. 

Our hotel kindly helped us arrange a very affordable ride to the village, where we paid an entrance fee before walking a couple of kilometres to the main gate. Along the way we passed large, colourful doorways and plenty of grape vines as the area is big on raisin production. 

There were shops along the way selling varieties of raisins, dried fruit and nuts – along with melons which could be sliced and served in the shop. The heat was already unbearable at 10am so we stopped to buy a refrigerated melon for just 55p. 

Before walking through the alleys of the village, we had an elevated view of the area, with a cluster of boxy mud brick homes, the mosque rising in the middle of the village, and the flaming red mountains behind. 

It looked more like Morocco than China, which made it even more fascinating. We were also surprised at how quiet the place was, with just a small handful of Chinese tourists. The mosque was the centrepiece of the village, with tall, spires and peeling turquoise paint. 

We walked through the entrance but there didn’t seem to be an actual mosque on the inside, it was just a large, open, courtyard. So we’re not sure if it used to be active or whether it was built by China to set the scene in the village. 

The mud houses were built with little holes along the top of the walls to help with airflow – and somehow this was enough to survive the unbearably hot summers and cold winters. I remember living in a mud hut in the Sahara and it was remarkable how cool it was in the daytime and how cosy and warm it was at night. 

Walking through the village was tough work, we could barely go ten minutes without needing another drink and a sit down in the shade. 

A few houses were open to look inside, where we climbed up narrow stairways and peeked into dark rooms. Some even had plug sockets and western toilets inside but it all seemed abandoned. 

Across the hill we could see domed tombs, some were made of mud while others had shiny green roofs. I didn’t know if I had the energy to continue up there, but we managed to push on and get a closer look, along with more vantage points across the village. 

It was a really fun place to explore, I just wish we had visited in a cooler season. But things got even worse for us the following day when we headed to the Jiaohe Ruins – one of the world’s largest (6500 residence at one point), oldest (1600 years old) and best-preserved ancient cities. 

The stats suggested it was worth a visit, and it wasn’t too far from Turpan so we hopped in a taxi to get there. Sadly, it was an extremely anticlimactic sight. The landscape was beige, and the powerful sun hit us from every direction imaginable. The ruins themselves were just rocky mounds, we did enter one where we could see where the rooms would have been, but it was just ruins – I guess I should have known by the name of the sight. 

While I adored Tuyoq, I couldn’t wait to leave Jiaohe and felt like it was a total waste of money. Exploring the area was horrible due to no shade breaks and no shops to buy cold drinks. After an hour and a half of feeling like we’d been abandoned in the hottest place on earth, we finally made it back to the entrance where we bought ice lollies and Coca-Cola. 

When it was time to leave the furnace town of Turpan, we hopped on a bus to Urumqi, the capital of Xinjiang. We just had a couple of days there where we explored the large bazaar, visited the Uyghur markets and were entertained by locals enjoying the parks – with 80-year-old men doing pull-ups, and aunties enthusiastically dancing. 

We planned to head to Mongolia next, but the land border was having trouble due to a foot-and-mouth outbreak, so we reluctantly flew across to Beijing, spending a couple of days exploring the city before flying to Mongolia. 

Beijing was nicer than I expected, and instead of visiting the typical tourist sights like Tian’anmen Square and the Forbidden City, we visited the art district and antique markets. We found unique trinkets and endless amounts of walnuts, which locals roll in their hands. It has health benefits like improving circulation, helping with hand flexibility and reducing stress, and after years of rubbing them the walnuts turn a deep red colour and shine like polished wood or jade.

There were also vintage communist posters and so many ‘little red books’ – a pocket-sized collection of statements, speeches, and writings by Mao Zedong, the former leader of the Chinese Communist Party. It became one of the most printed books in human history, second only to the Bible.

We also strolled through some hutongs, which are ancient alleyways nestled amongst the skyscrapers of the city. We wandered past the cute houses, only one or two stories tall, with grape vines wrapped around the entrances. It was interesting to see a slower pace of life for the locals, and the shops were great, with lots of independent stores instead of the typical Chinese-manufactured tat. 

Interestingly, the public toilets in the hutongs didn’t have doors, with three squat toilets and one western toilet lined up in a row. It’s something we’ve seen many times in rural China, but we didn’t expect to see them in Beijing. 

Eventually, it was time for us to head to a hotel near the airport, ready to fly to Mongolia after another incredible trip through China.