INSPIRATION LAKE BAIKAL.....
Northern Winter 2018 - A Chance Meeting with a Russian Academic from Irkutsk
I must admit - I am hopelessly impressionable. Especially about exotic places to which we may consider travelling.... The more remote. The more bizarre. The better. Alan is the same. But far less impulsive....
On our forward trip from Seoul to Khabarovsk, and then onto Magadan and Chukotka, Far East Russia in the northern winter of 2018, we met quite by chance with Dmitri and his colleague. An engaging young Russian academic, Dmitri was working at the National Technical Research University in Irkutsk. "So, how's Malcom?" he drawled in a slightly American-come-international accent. To our surprise, Dmitri had been working in Australia and Indonesia with our then Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull's wife Lucy Turnbull. Astonished, we readily engaged in a very pleasant conversation as we travelled by mini bus to Seoul airport. He was undeniably - simply charming....
Looking somewhat taken aback at our coming travels to such little tourist-travelled destinations, he quipped "Well, then you should come to Lake Baikal. It is REALLY worth seeing. And you must visit us at Irkutsk" he enthused. He then proceeded to show me numerous photos of the winter blue ice at Lake Baikal. And it was absolutely stunning.
I was hooked.... Alan merely shrugged. "You barely know him. He lives in Irkutsk and works with politicians and elite government officials. Of course he would promote Lake Baikal... And let's face it, it's hardly exotic and probably really touristy...."
I was not to be swayed. Lake Baikal was now on my bucket list of Russian destinations.
So, when indeed it was Alan who suggested that we travel by Trans-Siberian rail from Moscow to Harbin, breaking the trip at Irkutsk for a few days stay at Lake Baikal, I was ecstatic. And anyway, even if Lake Baikal was not anything as off-the-beaten-track as many of the places to which we had travelled, at the time the Trans-Siberian had sounded always romantic and exotic....
Day 4 of the Trans-Siberian: Early Morning Journey to Irkutsk
If our journey the evening before out of Kansk and through lonely little villages like Alzamay was dreary, nothing could have been less inspiring than our train journey toward Irkutsk. On a bleak, grey day, our train chugged slowly through some of the most depressing scenery we had witnessed to date.
I must have been in quite a mood. Interspersed with bored yawns, my voice recording drones "We must be nearing Irkutsk and you could not imagine a more miserable environment. Freight trains barely visible through our coal dust splattered train windows block any indication of the stations through which we are passing. Blackened oil tankers drip with the filth of centuries. Nameless stations that probably don't even deserve names are merely blurs.... Our train plugs through the pungent smog....".
Perhaps it was the dreary weather or that we were seeing the dismal edge of a large city - but Day-Nearly-Five-Without-a-Shower certainly was having quite an impact on my fragile demeanor
Conversely, our Providnitsas were in fine form. Enthusiastically, they approached us asking if we would like to buy some souvenirs before we alighted at Irkutsk. Given our poor humour, it couldn't have been worse timing but of course we went along with it, buying key ring holders and fridge magnets that we could easily squash in our luggage.
In fairness, they had been very good and caring about us. Being two of very few foreigners who didn't speak Russian must have been quite a responsibility for them. But how did they look so fresh and bright, we wondered? Always immaculate, they were attired in crisply ironed fawn uniforms, wearing stockings and court shoes; their hair pulled back neatly under their elegant uniform hats. One time they were gracefully welcoming passengers, another donning long aprons, and cleaning the toilets and scrubbing washrooms - which although ancient, were kept scrupulously clean. Mind you, in our travels toward Harbin, we did witness a very, very badly hung over crew of not-so-caring Providnitsas. But that's a story for later....
Pointing at a map of the stations along our route, the Providnitsas indicated to us that there were two stops at Irkutsk. The first, we stopped at for only a very short time. The second was where we alighted. And hopefully found our guide for Lake Baikal.... It was very useful information.
Before we departed from Moscow, we knew well how awful we would be feeling having travelled without washing for so long, and had insisted with our travel agent Anna that on our first morning in Irkutsk, we would not do anything before we had the opportunity to have shower. But even with a good agent like Anna, we knew that you can never be certain of anything when you travel. As we had so often experienced, our fate would be in the hands of our guide and driver. End of story....
ARRIVAL IN IRKUTSK
Sergei and Sergei: A Passionate Teacher & The Geographical Genius
We had been up at dawn packing and preparing for the inevitable off-loading of our luggage from the train carriage to the railway platform. True to our well-organised form, we had even rehearsed our procedure..... Alan would alight first and I would hand the luggage down the one-meter drop to him. Goodness only knows how anyone really old (we were old enough) or with a disability would get on....
Thanks to the good advice of our Providnitsas, we did not accidentally alight at the Irkutsk (postal) Sorting Station. But it would have been very easy to do so as there was no information even in Russian, provided to unwary passengers. But how would our guide find us at Irkutsk Proper, we wondered?
We need not have worried. On our arrival at Irkutsk Railway, our guide Sergei had no trouble in finding us. Bounding up the steel rung ladder, he insisted on trying to carry both our cases off the carriage. Of course, we resisted his kind gesture but in no time, laden with our luggage, we were virtually running after him, negotiating numerous rail tracks toward the city's main road. Diabolically dangerous, it all seemed quite normal for Sergei as he insisted that this was the quickest route to the car park.
Sergei talked as fast as he walked. We would have breakfast at a hotel then proceed on the five-hour journey to Lake Baikal, where we would catch a ferry to Olkhon Island, our destination for the next three days. I caught Alan's eye. Hotel? Could we possibly have a shower there first? Like all guides, our requests faded as quickly as our car as it sped out of the railway carpark.
Our guide Sergei was in fact a delightful man. Small-framed with clear blue spaniel eyes and a friendly smile, he assured us that we would love our stay in Lake Baikal. He was keen to tell us that he was passionate about his main job as a high school English language teacher in Irkutsk. "You will have to meet my students" he gushed. "And Wendy, you will talk to them in Russian...." My heart sank. My language ability was nowhere near good enough to carry out the simplest conversation - let alone with English-speaking school children. I should note here that as a somewhat curiosity as foreigners, we had often been obligated to visit schools in Russia and give polite talks about ourselves and our country. We hated it. And the kids had always looked as bored as we were.... Like the response to our request for a shower, we just looked straight ahead.
Sergei driver was quite a character. A young ex-army man, he was passionate about everything, especially the environment of Lake Baikal and its surrounds. He told us he didn't speak much English but he could certainly speak enough to communicate easily with us. Sergei was keen to tell us he was now a geographer by profession. "I am your Geographical Genius! I will tell you everything you need to know about your trip around Lake Baikal!" And he did.
Well, it was sounding like we would have an interesting time with these two. But what about the frigg'n shower? Like all guides we have dealt with, we knew we were out of control. Yep, end of story....
JOURNEY TO LAKE OLKHON ISLAND, LAKE BAIKAL
A Quick Stop in Irkutsk.
We should not have been at all surprised that the name of the restaurant at which we breakfasted was called The London Pub. After all, we had witnessed only some weeks ago The Irish Pub bar at Moscow's Sheremetyevo's international airport. Our Russian friend Max had commented with some irritation on my blog entry about our surprised reaction at Sheremetyevo (http://v2.travelark.org/travel-blog-entry/crowdywendy/11/1564304194), saying that of course Moscow was a modern city and had all the trappings and modern eateries of any city of today. Well yes, of course. I must say however, that it did feel slightly odd to be at a London Pub in Irkutsk. The breakfast was good and soon we were speeding off through Irkutsk to our destination of Khuzhir on Olkhon Island. With no talk of a shower....
Through Irkutsk Oblast From Irkutsk to Olkhon Island, Lake Baikal
To our delight - even on on a wet day, Irkutsk city "The capital of Siberia" looked beautiful with beautiful classical architecture and park-lined avenues. Even the ornate Irkutsk railway station building was stunning. While we would be only spending less than one day in Irkutsk when we returned from Lake Baikal, it was looking like a fine city to explore. And it seemed like Sergei had us well and truly lined up with a lot to do - school children included....
Probably even more important than even our much yearned for shower however, was Sergei's help with the purchase at an Irkutsk market of a SIM card that would actually work for the duration of our travels in Russia. We had been promised the card we bought in Dagestan would work in any part of Russia and it had been particularly disappointing (aka the last straw...) to weather four very long days without the internet. In hindsight, I guess it was not surprising, given the enormity of the Russian Federation.
Things were certainly looking better; our mood improving dramatically as we travelled through some fine scenery on our way to Baikal.
We were travelling through the vast Irkutsk Oblast of central-eastern Russia, a region occupying an area almost 770,000 square km; the administrative centre of the oblast being Irkutsk city. Consisting of mostly hills and valleys of the broad Central Siberian Plateau, some of the region is vegetated by dense taiga dominated by Siberian and Dahurian larch, pine, spruce and fir - other parts by mixed forest and extensive steppe*. Soils are mostly underlain by permafrost.
The oblast houses around 2.4 million people. Most are Russian with the small ethnic minority group the Buryats, accounting for 3.3% of the population. The Buryats however, are a significant group having their own Ust-Orda Buryat Okrug within Irkutsk Oblast. It is one of only two Buryat okrugs in Russia (the other is Agin-Buryat Okrug in neighbouring Zaibaykalsky Krai).
*Steppe country comprises broad plains of treeless grasslands. These regions are generally semi-arid with a an annual rainfall of 250 - 500 mm per year - sufficient to support short grasses but not enough rainfall to support tree growth. The largest steppe region in the world is known as the Great Steppe which extends from Eastern Europe and Central Asia, through Ukraine through to Russia, Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan and Mongolia, to the Altai, Koppet Dag and Tian Shan ranges in China.
The countryside was quite delightful; rolling hills dotted with tiny villages, ubiquitous orthodox churches and extensive farmlands. The soils looked dark and fertile. Were these the famous black Russian Churnozem soils**we wondered?
And for the first time in our journey, we noticed dairy cattle, and mares and foals - many of whom roamed the roads at their leisure. The extensive use of timber was impressive. Something we are not used to in our country. It didn't however, keep the livestock very well secured! On the other hand, perhaps they were temporary fences and the Buryat livestock owners, like those in Mongolia were semi-nomadic?
**Chernozem soils meaning "black earth" are distinctive of steppe country. Rich in humus, they can be found to depths of over one meter, and are some of the most fertile soils in the world.
Our road took us through the Ust-Orda Buryat Okrug. At Bayandai, we stopped for lunch at the delightful Nika Cafe. Appalled at my expanded waistline, I opted for a clear mushroom soup and the local Buryat specialty of buuz - small steamed dumplings filled with meat. I can honestly say however, eating after nearly five days without exercising or a having shower, was the last thing either of us wanted. Or needed.
Storm clouds loomed as we headed further east toward Lake Baikal. Interesting steep pitched roof house and traditional cottages decorated with elaborate white detailed windows made for an interesting journey. There was distinct likeness of the food at the Nika Cafe and to some of the country in which we travelled through northern Mongolia some years before. And no wonder, as we were only about 300 km from the Mongolian border, and travelling through lands which once belonged to the Mongolian kingdom.
At one spot Sergei stopped the car for us to wander around a Buryat sacred site. Highly reminiscent of Buddhist sacred sites we had witnessed in Mongolia and India, they were easily identifiable by the colourful totem or "serge" poles, wrapped with bright ribbons and surrounded by numerous fluttering flags. Again, there was a distinct likeness to the Buddhist prayer flags we had witnessed during our travels in Mongolia and Tibet.
Mid afternoon, we reached Lake Baikal and boarded our car ferry the Semyon Batagaev*** across the narrow strait to Olkhon Island.
Our first glimpse of Lake Baikal was not a friendly sight. Shrouded in heavy mist, the steely grey waters were menacing. Stark, treeless shorelines formed a formidable frame to a bleak and desolate landscape.
For some reason, we had to alight from the car and walk onto the ferry. In the intense cold, we shivered violently as our ferry slowly reefed its way across the channel. Even the passengers were miserably unfriendly. Perhaps my "bucket list" destination was not such a grand idea after all....?
***Semyon Batagaev was a local Buryat fisherman who made his fame as a war hero in the Great Patriotic War.
A BIT ABOUT LAKE BAIKAL
Lake Baikal is a true world icon. The statistics are staggering. It is the largest freshwater lake in the world, in terms of water volume and the 7th largest in terms of in surface area. It contains around 23% of the world's fresh surface water and more than all of that of the North American Great Lakes combined. A rift lake (that formed by subsidence due to shifting tectonic plates), it spans an amazing 31,722 square km - an area slightly larger than Belgium. Lake Baikal is also the world's deepest lake at 1,642 m - or an amazing 1.6 km in depth. Furthermore, it is the world's oldest lake at between 25 - 30 million years. And it is one of the world's clearest lakes. Unlike many inland lakes, its salinity is very low. A true geographical elite athlete!
Lake Baikal is also much famed for its fauna and flora biodiversity, hosting more than 1,000 species of plants, around 2,500 species of animals and 236 species of birds. More than 80% of the fauna are endemic.
In 1996, Baikal was declared a UNESCO world Heritage site.
Baikal's climate is much milder than that of its surrounding territory. Winter air temperatures average at minus 21 C and summer temperatures at plus 11 C. The lake surface freezes in January and thaws in May-June. Interestingly, the vast lake looks and behaves in some ways like a true sea, with steep cliffs and waves reaching as high as 4.6 m.
Industries along the shoreline include mining for mica and marble, timber industries including the manufacture of cellulose and paper, ship building and fisheries. Tourism is now a major contributor to the local economy. Olkhon Island in Lake Baikal, one of the largest lake islands in the world, has become a world-wide renown tourist destination, as have many of the villages surrounding the lake. It also supports local farming of cattle, sheep and pigs.
Environmental issues for Lake Baikal are more than concerning. Pollution from local industries and the resulting rapid growth of anaerobic conditions have contributed to the reduction of many species of the local sea life, fish and sponges. Of particular concern is a
ARRIVING AT OLKHON ISLAND
First Impressions....
Similarly, our first views of Olkhon Island were uninspiring. As our ferry ditched itself into beach shores of what appeared to be a stark deserted island, my heart sank. It was, I must admit somewhat of a shock to see a landscape so totally different from what I had expected.
But thankfully like most travels, we were soon to change our minds. The mist lifted, giving way to a gloriously sunny afternoon as our drive to the township of Khuzhir took us along a stunningly beautiful coastline.
Far from being deserted, on our arrival at the administrative centre of Khuzhir, we were shocked and dismayed to see a large number of tourists and even worse, masses of tour coaches, mini-buses and four-wheel drives. Sergei driver explained that Olkhon Island and the surrounds of Lake Baikal had quite recently become a very popular tourist destination for Chinese tourists. "We will have to have an early start tomorrow to avoid the chaos of the tourist buses travelling across the island. It's a nightmare" he grunted.
I should note here - in fairness to the Chinese people however, many emerging wealthy countries have had their fair share of being the "New Tourist", some including those from our own country, being uglier than others. From our experience in travelling extensively through China during the last fifteen years, we have seen an astounding rise in the standard of living; something we could only be delighted about for the Chinese people. And after all, we were tourists too....
Welcome to the Hotel Baikal View....
Another shock was yet to come. Sergei guide was keen for us to check into our Baikal View Hotel. We were keen too. Surely oh surely, it meant a shower.... "It's a new hotel and the best in town" he explained enthusiastically as we drove up the back blocks of the bare hills behind Khuzhir village.
From a distance, we saw what looked like a miner's hut village; numerous container-like cabins joined together forming a massive unsightly scar on the stark, sloping hinterland. I laughed "I thought you were taking us to our hotel, Sergei!". "I am" he replied far too seriously.
Quite honestly, until we drove into the "hotel" grounds, I still thought he was joking. Sadly, reality set in. This was to be our home for the next two nights; a series of shabby cabins linked by broken down walkways over a vast area of bare earth and weed. Oh, and a fake blue and white yurt thrown in for good measure. I was furious. After our three days of discomfort on the Trans-Siberian, I wondered just how worse was this frigg'n trip going to be? Meanwhile Alan stayed silent, looking "daggers". Very dangerous....
Demanding that we look for better accommodation didn't work. Poor Sergei even rang our agent Anna but as she had told us (quite rightly) beforehand, accommodation on Olkhon Island was pretty basic. "But surely not this bad", I moaned. My tantrum ignored, we booked into our hotel. Fortunately the rooms, although very basic were clean and comfortable..... And there was a shower.
But once again, the shower would have to wait for later. Sergei informed us we just had enough time to look around Khuzhir before sunset. Tired, dirty and defeated, we accepted our fate.
Miracles Can Happen: a Perfect Afternoon in the Beautiful Surrounds of Khuzir.
Intriguing how the sun often goes under a cloud when things going badly awry..... Following a sparkling sunny drive to Khuzhir, the sky was positively gloomy during our brief check-in at our hotel. But as we know however, things can improve just as quickly as they decline. Thankfully, the sun reappeared and our walk around Khuzhir village and its magnificent shoreline surrounds was a true delight.
Khuzhir village was quaint. Comprising steep pitched, brightly painted cottages the sprawling village directly overlooks Cape Shamansky (otherwise known as Cape Burkhan) - a location must that rival the more glorious settings of the world.
Just 36 km from where our ferry landed on the shores of the strait between Olkhon Island and the mainland, Khuzhir is the largest settlement on Olkhon with some 1,200 permanent inhabitants. The popularity of Olkhon however, has results in recent change to Khuzhir with the rapid construction of new hotels, tourist shops and facilities. And indeed, our hotel looked just like it had been thrown together at the last minute to capture the lucrative Asian tourist market.
Apart from tourism, the main industries in Khuzhir are dairy cattle and pig raising. And we were certainly made very welcome by the free roaming dairy cows, most of which looked to have Jersey, Guernsey or Ayrshire heritage.
Our walk around Khuzhir took us to Cape Shamansky, with the wonderful Shaman Rock being a world renown Buryat sacred site. On the other side of the cape was the lovey sandy shores of Saraisky Beach, surrounded by picturesque, superbly sculptured black pines. Overlooking the shoreline were several Buryat Serges*, each clothed with colourful ribbons. It certainly was a fascinating and truly majestic landscape, with an undeniably strong mystical presense.
So absorbed we were, the lack of a shower that was such a focus for us for the last four days, wasn't even thought about.... Cape Shamansky and its surrounds was the very best tonic we could hope for. Well, perhaps with a long hot shower and a quiet drink after..... Or maybe several quiet drinks....
* A Buryat Serge is a property marker. It informs people entering its zone that the property has ownership. They are commonly found outside gers (yurts) or gates. They originate from the Buryats' strong horse connection, where hitching posts for horses were common.
2025-02-15