Boots on the Loose

Lake Baikal. Our first taste of Russia. The majority of travellers cross Russia starting in the West, ending in the East. But not us. Not this time, at least.

Our decision to do the Trans-Mongolian route east to west meant, we would pop up from Mongolia into Russian territory right near Lake Baikal. Setting the stage opposite to most, for our initial impressions of the country.

Whatever the direction, east to west, west to east… Mother Russia. At last, we meet.

Our train leaves Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia northbound at 8:40 p.m. Sharp. It takes MUCH longer to travel five hundred and twenty kilometres to Irkutsk than I ever would have imagined. Thirty five hours, to be exact.

That averages out to be somewhere around fifteen kilometres per hour, overall. Of course the train travels much faster than that.

When it moves.

We get to the border with Russia at around 4 a.m. And there we sit for eleven hours before we start moving again.

We first pull into the Mongolian side. And finish our sleep. Waking up at around 7 a.m., give or take. Two hours later a few Mongolian officials show up, take our departure cards, and ask us a few questions.

I actually think this all works this way simply because no one is there at 4 a.m. to process us. So we must wait. As we learned during our time in Mongolia, Mongolians like their sleep.

An hour or so later, the train lurches forward into no-man’s land. Which lasts about twenty eight kilometres. Probably the largest gap I’ve ever seen between two countries.

We get to the Russian side around 11 a.m. and the crew quickly and efficiently boards the train. Drug dogs and all.

But contrary to my slight fears, the Russian officials are very pleasant. And after perhaps fifteen minutes or so of talking to us (in English-Russian, that is), inspecting our sleeper, processing our visas/passports, etc, etc, we are done. And are even able to leave the train and walk around town for the three hours or so before we continue our journey.

Back on the train and moving once again, the landscape looks similar to Mongolia. But at the same time is starting to look a little different. Mainly there are a few more hills, and there is quite a bit more water.

We get to Ulan Ude seven hours later around 10 p.m. Our very first town in Russia. We figure out we actually have forty minutes to get out and wander around if we like. Excited to be in Russia, we read there’s a huge statue of Lenin’s head not far. So we go for it.

We get about fifteen minutes away and realize we were looking at the map upside down. Ugh. Abort mission… Abort!

Back onboard we setup our beds and prepare for our second night on the train. It is now dark and there isn’t a lot to see or do. So we may as well get some rest before the next day’s early start.

6 a.m. the door is pulled open and we are told the bathroom closes in forty minutes. Bathrooms usually close while at stations. If the reason isn’t obvious, it’s because you watch the tracks zipping by through the toilet when you flush it.

So we prepare ourselves to start the day. The train is due to finally reach Irkutsk at 7:25 a.m.

Yes, that Irkutsk. The one on the Risk board. The one with the name everyone can say with a perfect, Russian accent. How could we not stop in eer-r-r-koot-sk!

Furthermore, Lake Baikal is only a one hour bus ride away. All but a must-see on any Trans-Siberian adventure.

Baikal Lake

Lake Baikal is the largest and deepest lake in the world. Six hundred kilometres tall, two hundred kilometres wide, and almost two kilometres deep at the deepest point. It holds over twenty percent of the world’s fresh water. More than ALL the Canadian Great Lakes combined. Wow.

We taxi across Irkutsk to the bus station. And quickly find ourselves in the small resort town of Listvyanka, on the south-western edge of the lake. As it turns out, the name Listvyanka is Russian for “larch city”. Larch, the tree, that is.

The lake really is quite stunning. Surrounded by beautiful snowy mountain peaks. They say it is the sister lake to Lake Tahoe, in case you have ever seen that.

And it only got better-looking over time as the sky got bluer the next day.

Listvyanka itself? It’s ok. We are here on the off-season, like everywhere else we end up going. It’s a resort town where Russians go to vacation. So you can be sure it’s full of quirks.

And being Canadian, it reminds me a heck of a lot of northern Canada. Log buildings everywhere, piles of firewood used for heating, buildings all out of whack due to the frost heaving in the ground.

We end up walking everywhere in Listvyanka because it isn’t all that big. Ladies here and there selling their smoked Omul (fish) from the lake. Yum. A VERY welcome change from the Mongolian mutton we were living on.

On our second day we walk four hours of the Great Baikal Trail (two in and two back, that is). There is an ongoing project to build a trail that circumnavigates Lake Baikal. Like Lake Tahoe. Except Lake Baikal is an order of magnitude bigger. So it will take a while.

A few notes on Listvyanka’s quirkiness as there are plenty of quirky things to see and do. Like snowmobiling and dog sledding in the winter. Or taking a wee little hovercraft out onto the lake (they look a bit like they’re homemade). Or visiting the Nerpanarium for a show.

Actually I just wanted to say Nerpanarium. Lake Baikal is resident to the nerpa seal – the only seal in the world that lives entirely in fresh water. And of course there’s this weird aircraft-looking building where you can go watch a seal show. Meh.

We do check out the very quirky retro museum, however. A painter father/sculptor son combo with an extremely eclectic collection of items to peruse. Worth the two bucks and twenty minutes to see it!

I am very surprised to see how typically Russian people in the area appear. I was imagining they would have some sort of Asian blend to them being so far east. Or at least there would be more of a mix of people. But that really isn’t the case. Which in a way is sort of nice for us because we are now blending in very nicely with everyone and rarely standing out as tourists.

We hop on a morning bus back to Irkutsk. We really didn’t get a chance to see much of it on our way through to Lake Baikal. Our train leaves at 3:50 p.m. so we give ourselves a few hours to walk around beforehand.

Irkutsk is known as the Paris of Siberia. I’m not really sure why, but I do know it is a pretty cool town to wander through. All sorts of interesting wooden buildings from days past to see.

There are only about four hundred thousand people in the eastern capital, so the downtown area is very manageable on foot.

Time running out, we rush back to the bus station to get our bags from the storage room. Across the street into the taxi of the surliest of men you’ll ever meet. We agree on a price. He honks and curses aloud at a nearby driver around the first corner.

I’m starting to understand those rock chips in his front window are far too big to have come from rocks.

Through the back routes and alley ways, we are almost at the bridge before the train station. Nope. Not yet. It is time to stop and put four dollars worth of fuel into the decrepit Lada.

But alas, he eventually gets us there. He is happy with the money we give him, and we are happy to make our train.

And be alive.