ARRIVAL IN YAKUTSK
On a Cold, Dark Polar Evening
In the darkness of an early polar evening, we finally arrived in Yakutsk from our three-hour flight from Saskylakh. Our last day sure was a monumentally bizarre way to end our Anabarskiy tour.
Picked up by our driver Artyom, we were relieved to have made it back to Yakutsk staying in the safety and comfort of our now very familiar Tygyn Darkhan Hotel.
Reeling from the day's adventures, covered in grit and dirt - and still ridiculously dressed in all our heavy outdoor thermal clothing - we looked at each other in astonishment. Did the day's events really happen? It was all too surreal....
Revisiting the Events of the Last Day of our Anabarskiy Tour - A Debriefing
I cannot describe our feelings as we finally boarded our Polar Air flight from Saskylakh to Yakutsk; a mixture of shock and euphoria I suspect. Laughing or crying? I'm not sure. One emotion was certain; sheer naked relief that we had made it from Yuryung-Khaya to Saskylakh airport. In one piece, that is....
There was no farewell to our guide Ed, nor to our friend Kostya who had "rescued" us from being hopelessly grounded on (under) the frozen Anabar ice road. It would be the last time we would see either of them on this voyage (Ed was picking up another tourist and would be leaving us on this tour). And all I could recall was Ed laughing "Well you two guys sure know how to end a tour in a BIG way!"
During our three-hour Polar Air flight, we had time to debrief on our emergency snowmobile sled ride to Saskylakh, where Ed had been helplessly thrown from the sled and I was certain that Alan had died of exposure. I scribbled the following notes. After all, this experience just had to be recorded for our blog, perhaps somewhat akin I fantasised to the urgency a journalist experiences following coverage of a breathtaking life event.
Perhaps I'm over-dramatising.... But to put our overall tour into context it is important to re-visit that extraordinary series of events. Here are my rough notes I made during our flight, largely unedited.
A Day of Insane Events...
"It seems our travels are a continual
series of Wendy and Alan travel disasters often in the remotest and most
challenging parts of the world. But truly, nothing has come quite as close to Events of Pure Insanity
as today’s journey from Yuryung-Khaya to Saskylakh - where we were due
to pick up our Polar Air flight which would take us some 2,800 km back to Yakutsk, the base for our travels in Yakutia.
We had been
snowed in at Yuryung-Khaya (our final destination for our Anabarskiy tour) for some three days with heavy snow storms and an
impassable ice road along the frozen Anabar River to Saskylakh. Despite the
evening before heralding magnificent sunsets and our very first glimpse of the
Northern Lights, we awoke to yet another snow storm; howling Arctic winds and
horizontally blasting heavy snow.
Resigned to several more
days of being snowed in, we were astounded when we found the road was actually
open. And we were soon speeding through the snow storm and virtual white-out to
our destination of Saskylakh. Our good fortune held up. On several
occasions our sturdy Toyota Prada plowed through seemingly impossible piles of
snow before coming to an impasse of around twenty or so huge lorries, many of
which were well and truly bogged in deep snow.
Anxious for us to make our flight, our
driver Ilya attempted to make another route on the frozen river but we were soon
bogged up to the axels. And despite valiant efforts with the generous help of
other drivers, we were well and truly grounded. On several occasions we were
pulled out by other trucks and cars but eventually admitting defeat, our travel guide Ed finally decided to satellite phone for help.
‘Quickly, you must get
changed into your thermals and full snow gear. Kostya is on his way on his snowmobile to take you guys onto Saskylakh.’ Who was Kostya, we wondered?
Only someone who has tried to
change into thermals in a car in a snow storm with a two metre length body like
Alan would understand the impossibility of first finding our carefully packed gear, then putting
it on in the car without opening the doors. Oh yes, and taking on and off our
massive snow boots. No wonder in the chaos I lost my trekking trousers.....
But somehow we managed to change into seemingly every bit of cold gear we possessed. And soon I was climbing aboard Kostya's big snow mobile with Ed, Alan and another (unknown to us) young woman on a rimless,
wooden sled - just like a packing pallet with no hand rails and no cushions, only bare planks to sit on - towed
behind.
Kostya simply gunned his machine. Speeding along at an astonishing pace, we were soon passing trucks and where the road was too snow bound,
hurtling off over treacherous, unmade frozen river terrain.
The poor sled people
had the raw deal with the sled often becoming totally airborne as we hit
numerous moguls and plunged into deep snow holes.
And then the
inevitable happened. On a particularly big bump, Ed was apparently thrown clean off the
sled. With the roaring of the snowmobile, Kostya only realised about a kilometer or so after the event. And looking back in the far distance, there was Ed - a lone figure limping toward us in the
storm. We had not heard the frantic cries from Alan nor the young
woman. By some miracle, Ed was not injured. Alan had also been dislodged but somehow had managed to prise his way back on the sled. But he was almost comatose with cold and shock. Thankfully, the young woman appeared to be in one piece.
So
off we shot again. I must confess, all my sneering comments about our
friends going on Vanilla Cruises for Older People came to mind. This was pure
madness. Oymyakon was not worth this - surely? And especially as there was
every chance we weren’t going to make the plane anyway. After all, it had
already flown over us toward Saskylakh....
It was some 20 km of sheer freezing hell, especially for those on the sled. We did however make our flight. The crew probably waited as the pilot flew right over us and the bogged trucks.
To our utter amazement, Kostya drove the snowmobile, sled and all, right into the departures area of the airport. We must have looked shocking though as the whole of the airport and passengers
were in stitches laughing at us, totally disheveled and covered in snow and grit. Even our eyelashes were caked with ice.
A group of young Russian men approached us. In perfect English, one asked ‘Are you Australian"'. How the hell did he
know....?"
THE FOLLOWING DAY
A Free Day in Yakutsk
Following the previous day's adventures, it was somewhat of a relief to have a whole day of free time in Yakutsk before our 2,000 km return journey to the Oymyakonskiy District the following morning.
The Tygyn Darkhan Hotel had almost become home, so familiar it was for us. We had stayed there on two occasions during our summer visit to Yakutia in 2017 as well as the evening before our forward journey to Anabarskiy. Mostly we had found the establishment comfortable and friendly. But mind you, there are rooms and rooms.... Most are very adequate but the room we stayed in for the two days prior to our Oymyakon trip was small, very cramped and cold. It is as well to check beforehand.
Our day was one of rest. Of course, we had a mission to do some shopping at the local supermarket and I was keen to buy some gifts for friends at home. But we had seen a lot of Yakutsk and were not at all keen to venture too far. In any case, even though it was a balmy minus 26 C, it was cold enough to make us think twice about venturing outside too many times.
Capital of the Sakha Republic, Yakutsk is the largest city in the world to be built entirely on permafrost. A handsome modern capital of a republic roughly the size of India, it is also the coldest city on earth! The city has a wealth of interesting information which I will not detail here as a description of the nature of the city, its climate, demographics and history is documented in detail in my previous blogs "Siberia and Beyond: Russia's Eastern Eagle" at http://v2.travelark.org/travel-blog/crowdywendy/8 and "Zimnik Yuryung-Khaya: Expedition Extreme Arctic Russia" at http://v2.travelark.org/travel-blog/crowdywendy/13
A Wander Around Yakutsk - Again...
There was no doubt about the Russian seasons. Places become unidentifiable in the bleakness of a snowy Russian winter. You could well be in a completely different location, depending on the time of year. And Yakutsk which we found to be a handsome but pretty bland city in the warmth of a hot 2017 summer had for this winter occasion turned its magic into an enchanting and exotic precinct, covered in a mystical shroud of snow and ice.
We were by now very familiar with the supermarket. Located in the Tuymaada Shopping Complex just across Lenin Square, it was in convenient proximity of our hotel. For our long car trip the following day to Khandyga en route to Oymyakon, we stocked up on biscuits, snack foods and drinks. It was of course, serious shopping as we were totally out of vodka. We cursed however that we had forgotten that alcohol is sold only in the afternoon in most towns, each city having different opening rules for their liquor sales. Thankfully you can buy beer at any time of the day, it seems. There was nothing else we could do other than resign ourselves to having to return to the supermarket after 2:00 pm....
A Late Afternoon Wander Back to the Tuymaada Complex
I offered to shop later in the day, mostly because I was hoping also to find some gifts for our cat minder Hazel and a couple of other friends. Given the remote nature of the places to which we travel, it is virtually (mostly absolutely) impossible to buy gifts. Unless of course, you fancy carting back a massive carved mammoth tusk.
Alan and I had noticed that morning a small souvenir shop outside the supermarket which sold in addition to some gaudy touristy treasures, some small pieces of rather nice looking carved mammoth tusk jewelry. They even sold the fascinating Yakut musical instrument, the khumus or mouth harp. Perhaps not a practical gift for an Australian though...
During our visit to Yakutsk in 2017, I had purchased some pieces of the semi-precious stone chariorite*. Perhaps the souvenir shop would sell some as well? After all, it was such a shop I found some very reasonably priced stones on our last visit.
*Chariorite is a beautiful, highly marbled mauve-purple stone that is exclusively found in the Olekminskiy district. Had only I known this when we travelled through on our way to Anabarskiy...
Woolly Mammoths
During the last Ice Age (the Pleistocene Era 250,000 to 10,000 years ago) when the land between Europe, Asia and Alaska became joined by vast masses of snow and ice, huge herds of woolly mammoths roamed extensively across the northern hemisphere. They left their bones scattered over a diverse and enormous expanse: from the valleys of the Mississippi and Thames Rivers, across to the shores of the Atlantic and to even the gravel terraces of Mexico. Then, as the ice receded, the mighty mammoths curiously disappeared.
The mammoth tusk trade is huge business in Siberia. And the intricate carvings are much sought after across the world. With more recent climate warming, however, significant areas of Siberian permafrost are melting, exposing more mammoth tusks. Given the worldwide prohibition on ivory harvesting, there is now huge pressure on the mammoth tusk reserves which are known as "Ice Ivory".
The Russian government regulates their mammoth trade and pieces bought must be appropriately certified and stamped. Even so, poaching is apparently widespread, endangering the future tusk resources.
A Pleasant Shopping Experience
On a darkening bitterly cold afternoon, I crunched my way across snow clad Lenin Square to the shopping complex. It was an enjoyable experience to be on my own, just absorbing the now not-so-foreign surrounds and watching the world of the coldest city on earth go by.
Buying the vodka in the supermarket was no problem. But shopping in the souvenir shop was quite a different matter.
The manager, a very smart looking woman perhaps in her mid-forties, smiled but looked anxious as I entered the shop. Obviously, I stood out like a sore thumb as a foreigner. But when I tried to ask questions in my halting Russian, she went to no end of effort to help me. Hidden drawers revealed a huge amount of tiny carved mammoth tusk jewelry, key ring holders, knives and yes, even mammoth tusk handled mouth harps. She kindly left me to browse while she served other customers.
A young man and presumably his mother were looking at the mouth harps or khumus. He tried several, testing each for its peculiar individual tones. Playing the khumus involves placing part of the instrument right into one's mouth. And each time a khumus was tried and returned, the manager wiped the mouth part carefully with a tissue. It would hardly conform to standard aseptic technique procedure and having a past life in microbiology, I tried hard not to think about the potential for microbial contamination. Thankfully, this was before COVID! Well, only just....
On the other hand, the young man played the khumus beautifully; the evocative wild and haunting sounds never ceasing to overwhelm me (a khumus recital by a young Yakut girl during a reception for us in Aykhal just some days before can be viewed at https://youtu.be/WOMVmRa0spc). So spell bound by the music, I almost forgot what I was looking for. There was no chariorite but I did manage to buy some carved mammoth tusk jewelry, each piece the manager was careful to point out, came with its own authorisation certificate and government stamp.
It was a nice experience. The manager and customers were friendly and I managed to buy what I wanted. And I was even entertained whilst doing so. Needless to say, I stuck to buying jewelry.
By the time I had finished shopping, it was almost dark and a bitter cold was setting in for the evening. The temperature was I guess, around minus 30 C. People were making their way home from work, some laden with shopping bags and doing what ordinary Yakutsk people do in their every days lives. The statue of Lenin stood at one end of the park; his snow-covered right arm extended defiantly skyward.
I loved the experience; for once blending in the locals and not even being noticed as a foreigner.
An Early Evening
The Tygyn Darkhan has a very nice restaurant and as usual, we enjoyed a meal of local fish; salmon for Alan and as always, halibut for me.
We reminisced that it was only two weeks since we had sat dining in the very same place on the evening we first met our travel agent and guide Ed. It felt like years ago. So much had happened. After our meal, we sent him a text message to see how he had fared with his return trip back to Yuryung-Khaya.
His reply was "Made it back to 'Khaya at 1:00 am this morning, exhausted. Hope all is well with you guys! Oh, by the way - great northern lights last night too. We saw them driving back in the early hours of the morning. Stunning green lights all over the sky. Best I've seen for years!" He didn't dare to say "Pity you weren't there", but we got the gist!
We laughed. Our reply, knowing Ed who loved a drink was totally out of grog - and was to spend another week or so in a "dry" region - was simply "Haha! You think you are being smart. We - unlike you - are enjoying our first refreshing beer for the evening!
Geoff Nattrass
2021-02-06
great read as is always