Dancers responded to the Uyghur music with either waltzing or a graceful circular movement, waving their arms to the rhythm in what seemed a traditional movement. Then came the disco songs - all the Seventies synth and pop but sung in Uyghur. One sister joined her friends, who were dancing in a Western style, minus the grinding.

Looking up at the club's flashing lights, I knew I was where I wanted to be. I had crossed Xinjiang and was dancing to Uyghur disco. They certainly didn't say anything about that in the book.