A garrison town that became a libr
Dunhuang was the westernmost of the four commanderies Emperor Wu of Han set up along the Hexi Corridor after Huo Qubing drove the Xiongnu out of the region in the 2nd century BC. Because the Silk Road split into its northern and southern branches right here — the south road through Yangguan, the north road through Yumen Pass — the town became the mandatory gateway between the Central Plains and everything west of it: Xinjiang, Central Asia, Persia, India, Arabia and eventually Europe. Monks, envoys, merchants and soldiers all passed through the same narrow strip of oasis.
The Mogao Caves opened in AD 366, when a monk named Yuezun looked up at the cliff opposite Sanwei Mountain, saw it glowing gold in the evening light, and dug the first cave. For the next thousand years, roughly a thousand more caves followed, funded by whoever had money to spare — local officials, merchant guilds, Uyghur and Tibetan patrons, even a few emperors. Then the sea routes took over, the Ming emperor closed Jiayuguan, and Dunhuang fell off the map entirely until the Qing court dragged it back into the empire under Kangxi.
The Library Cave, and the year eve
In 1900 a Taoist caretaker named Wang Yuanlu was clearing sand from a corridor when he found a sealed chamber behind a wall: Cave 17, packed with some 50,000 manuscripts, silk paintings and printed scrolls dating from the 4th to the 11th century, including the world's oldest dated printed book, the Diamond Sutra of 868. It is the single greatest archaeological find in Chinese history, and it left the country in crates. Aurel Stein, Paul Pelliot, Sergei Oldenburg and Langdon Warner all bought or carried off bundles over the next two decades; the bulk now sits in London, Paris, St Petersburg and Tokyo, which is why Dunhuang studies is a genuinely international field.
Walk into the museum at the Mogao visitor centre before you see the caves themselves and you will understand what was lost — and why local guides still get visibly annoyed about it. The murals that stayed, though, are extraordinary: 45,000 square metres of painting and 2,400 sculptures across the 492 decorated caves, spanning ten dynasties. The flying apsaras, the musical ensembles, the donors' portraits, the blue-and-green landscapes — this is a visual record of a thousand years of Eurasian exchange, painted on a cliff in the desert.
Desert climate, and what it does t
Dunhuang sits at 1,139 metres, which is nowhere near altitude-sickness territory, so don't worry about that. What will get you is the dryness and the swing in temperature. The annual average is 9.3°C, July averages 24.9°C with extremes past 40°C, January averages -9.3°C and has hit -28.5°C, and the yearly rainfall is 39.9 mm against 2,490 mm of evaporation — twenty-five times more water leaves the ground than falls on it. Bring lip balm, eye drops and more water than feels reasonable.
The best window to visit is May through October. November to April is cold and sometimes sandstorm-prone, though it is also when ticket prices halve at most sights and you can negotiate on camel rides and dune buggies — things that are flatly impossible in peak season. The trade-off: in deep winter many shops and larger stores simply shut, so the town is quiet to the point of empty. If you want the caves without the crush and don't mind a coat, late October or early November is the sweet spot.