Some people call them “Amazon Kindle Countdown” deals. However, I prefer the made-up term Extraordinary Sale-a-Thon Super Explosion. And, yes – there’s one happening right now.
A Eurasian Diary – the cross-China / Silk Road travellin’ tale that I lovingly rendered into existence one, painstaking Perpetua-typeface letter at a time – has now been literally super-exploded into a very fine deal for book-downloaders such as yourself. From Sunday 29 June through to the evening-time on Wednesday 2 July, the odyssey can be yours for 99 pence. That’s less than a pound!
Come get in on the cheap-ass action before 2 July is out!
These Kashgar Sunday Market goers search in vain for a copy of A Eurasian Diary. It is only available online.
As the currency referenced above might have suggested, this particular Extraordinary Sale-a-Thon Super Explosion is only available in the UK, at least this time. But, for people living in the world’s other countries, there will be similar explosions comin’ your way in due course. I’ll announce them here – so keep the eyes set on “peel.”
Yours truly (and after having eaten three rocky road bars, which I suspect you’ve noticed),
One big cauldron of goodness
The alleyways of Kashgar’s Sunday bazaar stretch and twist and steam like so much, well, kneaded dough. And, however hot the work, this baker keeps cool as a cucumber throughout.
Here he spins and knots his savoury dough into big, thick braids, ready for boiling up bagels – a chewy, savoury variety you’ll find all over Xinjiang. And that’s not the only carb-a-licious snack available, either – down every high street, and even every alley, you’ll find options for bagels, seed-speckled naan breads, gooey pork-filled dumplings, or even deep-fried straw bread coiled into delicious wreaths. You can take your pick of bready delights, a pot of strong, black tea, and lunch is utterly sorted.
It is a veritable yum-a-thon of tasty proportions.
Kashgar’s Sunday Market is one of the great bazaars of Central Asia – the market just before Eid celebrations in 2012 meant the place was even busier and more raucous than normal.
This clothes seller offers up an uncertain scowl as her customer hems and haws at the selection on offer. Behind, shashlyk dealers fan their charring skewers, readying lunches for hungry shoppers.
In the collapsing backstreets of Old Kashgar, streetsigns guide travellers in Arabic, Chinese and English.
As the town is slowly razed and rebuilt – with mudbrick houses demolished, and alleys paved into roads – it’s hard to tell how meaningful the old signs will be in the future.
In Kashgar, neighbourhood homes often double as places of business. This family hopes to shift the remainder of their day’s produce, naans and bagels, before the evening air turns them hard.