Kuqa (also known as Kucha, 库车 / 龟兹) wasn’t a destination we expected to linger in. After nearly two weeks on the road around Xinjiang, we were already a little worn out — too many early mornings, too many bus rides, too many things to “fit in.”
But Kuqa turned out to be the perfect slow interlude: mellow, compact, and full of small joys that reveal themselves only when you stop rushing.
Day 1 — Doors of Color, Quiet Alleys, and a Mosque Full of Sunlight
We began our morning in the old quarter near Qiuci Alley (龟兹小巷).
What struck me first were the doors — not for sale, not part of any market, just simple displays lining the alleys. Soft pastels, saturated blues, hand-carved patterns… Each door felt like it had absorbed decades of stories. I had seen beautiful photos online before coming, but seeing the colors in person was something else entirely. They looked sun-faded yet proud, a small visual poem belonging to Kuqa alone.
Early morning here is peaceful. The sun hasn’t warmed the air yet, and the streets are still half asleep.
We wandered past Jigu Alley (击鼓巷), a short lane with charming decorations. A bare, gnarled populus euphratica tree — looking half-dead, half-ancient — stood quietly by the path. Soon we arrived at Kuqa Grand Mosque (库车大寺).
Inside, the mosque felt small but serene, with old wooden beams and sunlight pouring through windows in soft strips. You can feed pigeons, admire the carpets, and peek at aging houses still preserved around the courtyard.
Part of me felt slightly sad — perhaps because the space now functions more as a sightseeing spot than an active place of prayer. I wasn’t sure if this was still a living religious community. But that’s just the impression of a brief visitor; I can’t claim to know the full story.
Leaving the mosque, we walked slowly toward Kuqa Royal Palace (库车王府) through streets dotted with interesting corners and textures.
Day 1 (Afternoon) — Kuqa Royal Palace & The Story of the Last Princess
The palace was crowded — far more people than I expected for a weekday afternoon. Certain rooms were packed, especially the one featuring the story of the last princess of Kuqa.
At first I wondered why everyone seemed obsessed with this single exhibit. Then I remembered what a driver once told us:
“She married the prince when she was in her twenties — and he was already in his seventies.”
Suddenly, the fascination made sense. The palace architecture itself is grand, with sprawling courtyards that sometimes host traditional dances. But culturally, the palace reminds you of something deeper:
This used to be the heart of the ancient Kingdom of Qiuci (龟兹王国) — one of the great Buddhist centers along the Silk Road, known for music, murals, cave temples, and incredible artistic hybridity.
Strangely though, many displays felt similar to what we’ve seen elsewhere in Xinjiang. The essence is here, but the distinction between Kuqa’s unique Qiuci heritage and general Xinjiang folk culture is harder for a casual traveler to grasp.
Day 1 (Evening) — Re’stan Old Street & The Daily Ice Cream Pilgrimage
After the palace, we walked to Re’stan Old Street (热斯坦老街) — and this time the street was lively. Food stalls sizzled, vendors called out, and bright-coloured wooden doors made perfect backdrops for photos.
We bought red dates and flower tea, wandered past craft shops, and — most importantly — found the ice cream shop.
It was so good that we returned every day during our three days in Kuqa.
That says enough.
Later we slipped into a small courtyard café. Unlike European-style buildings where the garden faces the street, Uygur homes often have enclosed courtyards hidden behind plain walls. This café followed the same layout — simple, quiet, and empty except for us.
The coffee was a bit bitter and not very rich, but the stillness of the courtyard made up for it.
We walked past a wall filled with decorative windows — a very obviously staged, commercial display. Yet… it was visually striking. I liked it anyway. Travel doesn’t always have to be philosophical.
We also visited a shop selling artworks made from populus euphratica wood, and then stopped by Hat Alley (花帽巷), lined with colorful traditional caps.
By the time we returned to the hotel, we realized:
We were too tired to join any tours. Our original plan to book a Buddhist cave trip faded into the background. And honestly? It felt nice to do nothing.
Day 2 — Grand Naan City & Another Slow Day
The next morning we visited Kuqa Grand Naan City (库车大馕城) — a simple, light visit showing the culture and baking process of Xinjiang’s famous naan. Not a must-see, but pleasant.
We returned to Qiuci Alley, ate fried noodles and meat skewers in Ha’erbage Street (海尔巴格), and of course… more ice cream.
When you don’t venture outside the city, Kuqa becomes a routine of strolling, eating, and enjoying the slow rhythm — and that was perfectly fine for us.
Day 3 — A Soft Farewell
On our last morning, we walked aimlessly around Kuqa one more time. In the afternoon, we flew onward to Turpan.
Looking back, Kuqa wasn’t about big attractions or bucket-list sites.
It was about quiet alleys, gentle warmth, and the permission to slow down.
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