Essays on Xinjiang tourism

Friends who have never traveled to Xinjiang, let's take a look at Xinjiang essays written by others. The following is my essay on Xinjiang tourism carefully arranged for you. I hope you like it.

Xinjiang Tourism Essays In a blink of an eye, 2007 has passed by half. It seems that every time I write something, the first sentence can't escape sighing that time flies, but the years are so hurried. I don't know if I feel that time passes faster and faster as I get older. Recalling the six years of primary school seems like a long time. What comes to mind is playing hide-and-seek with children, jumping rubber bands and learning leisure time in summer afternoon. Nowadays, sitting in an air-conditioned office has blurred my feeling about the seasons. I know that when I grow up, I will never find the same summer time again.

In the day-to-day work, fortunately, I can take advantage of the limited holidays to travel (dare not say travel). When I am busy and depressed, I can take some time to travel with a few friends who also like to travel, and go to places I have never been to, not only to see the beautiful scenery, but also to find a mood.

This time, we are going to Xinjiang. A friend said that after he had been to Xinjiang, he had traveled to every province in China. I'm on my way! This time, I will go to Bayinbuluke, Nalati Prairie, Selimu Lake and Kurdnin.

I don't know why I have a soft spot for snow-capped mountains. Perhaps it was because the Yala Snow Mountain that year was amazing. The shock and mystery of the majestic snow-capped mountains are more attractive than the vastness of the sea. I have been to Yalong Bay, which ranks first in the National Geographic beauty pageant, but I don't think the sea there appeals to me. Maybe I have never seen a truly beautiful unpolluted sea. Perhaps the profiteers in Sanya made my impression of Hainan greatly discounted, so I miss the simplicity of Tibetan areas more. Only in places where folk customs are simple and not commercialized can we feel the real nature and examine ourselves in nature. However, there are fewer and fewer such places.

Xinjiang Tourism Essay Just after the Golden Week on May 1st. Travel accidents have been reported on the news every day this week. Seeing my frightened appearance, I turned to look at my father. His face is gloomy, even worse than the previous two days. I know what he is thinking. I remember when he first came back, they didn't watch CCTV 10 for several days. Even if some people in TV programs are tour guides or journalists, they have to change channels. Our old lady (my father's grandmother, 95 years old) put her hands on the door frame as soon as she saw me wearing clothes and makeup.

Suddenly, I really want to write down my trip to Xinjiang, but I just want to write it where I want to write, not travel notes, and I can't give guidance and help to the vast number of donkey friends. Because many psychological and detailed descriptions are expected to be longer, anxious netizens can close the webpage.

When I was a child, my Chinese teacher said that writing a composition should explain the cause and effect, so first of all, let me talk about why I want to go to Xinjiang. There's a saying? Character determines fate? I have never verified whether personality can determine fate, but my trip to Xinjiang is entirely out of personality. Speaking of my personality, there are several representative things in my life:

1, there is a new head teacher in the primary school. On the second day of taking office, she was punished for standing as soon as she entered the door, on the grounds of laughing at her. Later, I found that I was a super optimistic child, always smiling unconsciously on my face, which gradually changed the bad impression I left on her. However, the bad impression left by that teacher is indelible for a long time. Until now, when I write about her, I will still gloat over the time when my classmates' parents beat her in the corridor. Before that, I think teachers are gods and students must believe. As for the class cadres, they are priests and can talk to you about cheap. This is what I have summed up now. I didn't know much about religion at that time, but that's how I felt.

I have no interest in my major after I went to college. Now it seems that I just don't like studying. In class, I don't call the roll, I call the roll. Damn it? More pains, more gains, less pains, no gains? The socialist distribution model has led me to a long and arduous road of academic failure. At the class meeting of the second semester of sophomore year, the monitor with excellent grades said a word to several students who failed in the class when summing up the class work. What you do is none of my business. Don't hold the whole class back. . How alarming! How can my precious college life be so muddled? So after painstaking preparation, at the next class meeting, that is, the class meeting at the beginning of junior year, I read my manifesto for running for class monitor with passion under the surprised eyes of everyone. I've always been a man of my own accord. As long as others don't bother me, I am grateful. I have never been a cadre before, and I am not interested in cadres. The old monitor never dreamed that his words would bring such a tragedy. In fact, he doesn't want to retire at all. He just wants to ask if you are satisfied with the work of this class Committee, and cross this link. Fortunately, I was prepared. My best friend insisted that I was not satisfied with the monitor, so I temporarily re-elected the monitor. We are engineering majors, and the ratio of male to female is 3: 1, not to mention the monitor. Of the eight positions in the class committee, only the literary and art committee member and the female vice squad leader will be girls, and there are few female squad leaders in the history of the whole department, let alone poor grades. What started as a farce turned out to be a serious drama. Later, it was analyzed that there were mainly two kinds of people who voted for me, girls and students with poor grades (I was disgusted? Poor students? This word). It's interesting for girls to support me, and it can also reduce the oppression of boys; As for my poor grades, apart from my dissatisfaction with the old monitor, I am afraid it is also related to my abolition of the policy of supervising attendance and handing in homework. The old monitor was stunned at that time, or the class teacher came forward to solve the problem. In fact, I was at a loss, and I didn't know what to do, so I was busy celebrating. After the meeting, the Committee held a class meeting and only discussed organizing everyone to go to the seaside for a barbecue. There is another sentence that I don't know where to insert. Our head teacher likes students with good grades = > The head teacher doesn't like me&; The class teacher likes the old monitor. During the election campaign, the head teacher turned blue and stood up and called on everyone to take it seriously. Narrow-minded revenge made me not take the class fee to buy her a gift on Teacher's Day, but also detained the CD-ROM issued by the school to the graduates of the class teacher.

After a few days as a cadre, I still can't control my carelessness and play by myself. Fortunately, our Communist Youth League secretary is a person who can help everything. Due to carelessness, I am not only the first female monitor in our department, but also the only monitor who failed in the class. Last semester's graduation design, students with too many credits are not allowed to do graduation design this semester, which is the legendary repetition. Finally, one day, I was worried for so many days and got a task that can be called changing the fate of the university. The educational administrator gave the work of statistical credits to the monitor, who then distributed it to each monitor. Of course, instead of counting their own classes, they counted each other. It seems that God has given me a way out, or I will tell my family that I will spend money to eliminate the disaster after the violence, and now all this has become something that I can solve with my words and deeds. I did all this from time to time and spent the reporting period calmly. Then one day, the educational administrator asked me to go because something happened to the woman's sixth sense. Is the most poisonous woman. Why didn't you say so when you clearly wanted to review? It's too late for me to trust my feelings. Finally, I personally rewrote my study period, four and a half years. I wonder if there is such a big space on graduates and degree certificates, whether it is written for four and a half years or four and a half years.

Xinjiang Travel Essay set out from Chengdu in March 8, and a family of three went to Xinjiang, because my husband and family were doing business there. During that time, it was said that there were some terrorist acts and ethnic rebellion there. It's scary. But I finally got on the plane for more than three hours.

When I arrived, I looked down from the window of the plane and saw Huangtu Mountain that I had never seen before. -Not half a silk green. Stretching for thousands of miles. I don't know why I feel that if the plane falls into it, people will still be alive and probably die of thirst. However, when I passed by, I saw a crescent-shaped blue lake among thousands of miles of yellow sand. I thought it was a mirage. I put down my eyes and looked at it. Yes, I also invited Mr. Chen to see it. It's just that the difference is so perfect that a small lake can't be swallowed. Unfortunately, I forgot to print it out with my camera for a while. When I looked back, I remembered that it was hundreds of kilometers away. . . .

I didn't stay in Xinjiang for long. The head and tail are only ten days. The weather is cool and comfortable, a dozen or twenty degrees. The sunshine is also long, which is three hours away from my hometown. So breakfast is at ten o'clock, lunch at three o'clock, dinner at eight o'clock and evening at nine o'clock. A little sick. The weather is very dry, and the most distinctive thing is that the clothes must be washed out and hung in the bathroom, and it will be as dry as being dried for half a day. So for people, they can only keep drinking water to prevent being caught? Drying?

Xinjiang's specialty foods are mutton, saute spicy chicken, hand-grabbed rice and steamed stuffed bun. . I prefer mutton, but the taste is really unbearable. Any store has a pungent smell of mutton. At first, I really wanted to throw up. But I am very adaptable. Get used to it. Maybe I've been polluted by this smell, so I blend in. But the so-called bag seems to me to be the dry cake in the north. Some can't understand its delicacy. Even if they recommend another famous and delicious restaurant, I can't get used to it. The taste is dull and blunt, and it really can't be swallowed.

Others, such as hand-grabbed rice and saute spicy chicken, are all delicious specialty dishes. It is more delicious than Wenzhou's.

Almost one meal of chicken and meat a day makes me a little scared, afraid that my weight will double when I finally come back. But they can't stand these temptations, and some of them really love and hate each other. When I came home, my mother-in-law brought me some special dried fruits. There are grapes, pistachios, badamu, walnuts and so on. The taste is also very pure, especially grapes, which are so sweet that people feel like immortals. I guess it's my sharp mouth, and my family doesn't like it. I don't know how so many crops can be produced in such a dry land. There are some contradictions.

Another contradiction is the difference in scenery.

I didn't go to many places, only a small desert and grassland. According to them, Xinjiang is as big as sixteen Zhejiang provinces. So a little scenery, or by plane, by car for a few days. The place to go, three or four hours' drive, should also be very close.

I used to live with the grassland desert, but I was different. How can the green grassland be so close to the dry desert? It should be an independent existence. Finally, I understand that grassland is the predecessor of desert, and greening is not good. Grassland grass was eaten up by cattle and sheep and gradually weathered into a desert. The same phenomenon exists in China, Mongolia and Tibet.

I have uploaded photos of the desert, so you can enjoy them. But unfortunately, the photos of the grassland were undoubtedly deleted by them. On the grassland, we rode horses, sat in tents, ate mutton and drank goat's milk. Goat milk tastes terrible, fishy and salty, which is completely different from the new milk you imagined.

Most of the inhabitants of this desert are Hashak. They will leave here in September, because the whole grassland will be covered with heavy snow. The herdsmen here are all experts in raising horses. Young and old, men and women. The horses we rode were all kept by a few primary school students who were only twelve or thirteen years old. Passengers who come here, whether they are in their prime or not, want them to ride together. The horse that Xiao Guai and I rode happened to be a little girl's. I understand that she is also a pupil. Help work here during the summer vacation. I went to school again in September.

When the tourists got off the horse. They skillfully and lightly mounted their horses and flew away, instantly becoming dots in the vast green grass. The little girl is among them.

I also heard that one of the boys is a ski instructor. Wrestling, running, winning everything. It's amazing.

This place is called Nanshan.

Unfortunately, I didn't go to Tianchi and Snow Mountain, which are very close.