About 35 km outside of Dunhuang are the utterly spectacular Mogao Caves. Calling them grottoes would be a massive injustice. They are composed of 487 caves of what has to be the best collection of Buddhist artwork anywhere. Cindy and I had planned to visit this place on our last day, but a change of plans involving a shared taxi (hint, the other people decided to do something else) altered our schedule. We took a few city buses and arrived at the Mogao Caves less than an hour later.

Unlike Maiji Shan, Mogao Caves are a completely developed and controlled tourist attraction. They schedule how many visitors can tour each hour and each visitor is required to go with a guide to regulate flow. Before we can even go into the site we have to watch two movies, one about the emergence of Dunhuang and another about the construction of the grottoes. Then we boarded mandatory shuttle buses to the grottoes. After waiting in line for our tour to begin, we were given radio receivers that connected on channel 152 to our specific guide.

Had we read our Lonely Planet, we would have known that we were required to walk with a guide and that most caves were off limits. But because we’re stupid, we didn’t read our Lonely Planet guide and were rather frustrated with how constrained we were. No matter, the few caves we did see were mind-blowing. One had a 35m tall Buddha. Another had a 26m tall Buddha. Another had a reclining Buddha in a cave that was covered floor to ceiling with murals.

The final cave was a bit of a mystery. While I can converse in Mandarin, I’m pretty much useless in the topics of Buddhism, art, and archaeology. I mean, I’m pretty much useless in those topics in English. All I understood was that people were hovering near a hole in the wall (like, a smaller cave within a cave, since everything is technically a hole in the wall) and the guide said something about foreigners taking a lot of things from that hole.

After our tour had concluded, we were free to roam around the grounds. But since all the caves were locked, there was not much productive roaming to be done. We basically walked in the vicinity of the caves we knew tours would enter and then walked in with them like vultures when their guides unlocked the caves.

At the exit, we entered a museum and learned a little bit more about the mystery cave. Apparently the small cave in the cave was known as the “Library Cave.” At the turn of the 20th century, a caretaker discovered it and it held something like 40,000 manuscripts, sutras, and pieces of art. Word of the discovery leaked outside of China and soon foreigners descended upon the Library Cave. Two foreigners in particular, one French and one English, competed to, ahem, acquire as many of the relics as they could. In the end, they collectively “purchased” over 20,000 items for the exquisite price of 220 British pounds. Russians, Japanese, and Americans later came and bought more items. Actually, the American just took stuff. He was a Harvard professor and came armed with a chemical solution that stripped murals off the cave walls. Some 80% of the Library Cave’s contents are now gone. Many can be viewed in the British Museum and the Louvre.

Remember the guy who took a chunk of the Great Wall and showed it to us in Pingyao? Another point for colonialism and imperialism.

Because photography is strictly forbidden inside the caves, I was only to take some pictures of the outside.

Back in Dunhuang, we had a hot pot dunch (dinner/lunch). I thought maybe I should have taken that Great Wall brick and smashed the dude with it. I mean, what would he have? Called the police?

Him: He hit me with a rock.

Police: You’re speaking white talk.

Me: He took a piece of our Great Wall and I hit him with it. Then I perched over him victoriously, placed the wall over my heart, and sung the national anthem.

Police: There’s nothing to see here.