Monday, 17 May 2010
Lake Baikal, Russia
Wake to the dulcet tones of people in the corridor saying things like. Ooh. Aaah. Wow. Look at that. Wow.
Hmmm.
Something’s up.
Open cabin curtains. Which reveals a rock face inches away from the train.
Hmmm.
Need to rush to get out of bed now to see what’s up.
Open door to corridor.
Oh my.
OH WOW.
Now that’s a view to wake up to.
A stunningly beautiful, white frozen Lake Baikal and a deep blue sky.
OH WOW.
Memorable vista.
One of my life’s great views.
Have been incredibly lucky to wake up to stunning views from my bedroom window over the years.
But this.
Takes some beating.
Train had stopped overnight at Slyudyanka to swap the electric locomotive for a diesel locomotive to pull us up what is now the Baikal spur line to Port Baikal. The railway line hugs the shoreline. Literally. With a near vertical drop to the lake 20ft below. The spur line used to be the original route of the Trans Siberian but became defunct when the new electrified line was built from Irkutsk to Slyudyanka, bypassing Port Baikal.
Views are insane.
The largest and deepest freshwater lake in the world is still frozen over. Mountains on the opposite shoreline still snowcapped. The deep blue sky complementing this white photogenic scene.
Spectacular.
This is why I work my socks off.
Today is going to be an exceptionally good day. Can feel it in my bones.
Arriving at the small hamlet Polovinnaya about halfway to Port Baikal, we can only disembark through one particular carriage as the platform is only 6ft long. A small beach down below with water so still it’s like looking in a mirror.
It’s a brief stop for photos, have a walk around the small ramshackle hamlet with wooden houses and sheds. Old lady pottering about. She’s up for a photo so stands grinning. Venture further into the hamlet. Local men busy planting seeds in the gardens. Two men come out of a house shouting. Not sure if they’re directing their ire at me for taking photos of the hamlet. Retreat to a safe distance. Just in case. They walk past. Absolutely pissed on vodka me thinks. Even at 1000hrs. Really scruffy and unshaven. Real peasants. The old lady that was pottering about who had been enjoying having her photo taken is now engaged in a full on slanging match with another old lady from the hamlet. Hear the words ‘photograffi’ and ‘touristy’. Obvious she’s being admonished for allowing us to take photos. Photographed woman is going for it big time gobbing off which eventually ends with her taking her coat off as if spoiling for a fight. Handbags at dawn. Absolutely priceless.
As we’re on a branch line and the only train for miles around, given the opportunity to ride at the front of locomotive. Not in the warm confines of locomotive’s cabin. No. That’s too safe. Actually allowed to stand on the outside of the locomotive on the narrow access platform that runs around the locomotive engine forward of the drivers’ cabin. As it trundles along the tracks for the next 10-15mins. This will make for some great photography. Oh yes.
Except.
It’s at this point I discover my camera battery is low on juice. Sod it.
Of all days!
Transpires there is an electrical problem in my carriage and my phone and camera batteries haven’t recharged overnight.
Great fun as we trundle along the shoreline and through a tunnel.
Fantastic feeling travelling on the footplate there and back again (name the 1970s children’s TV programme, dear reader! Send me an email).
That bit of fun over it’s back to cabin to recharge camera battery. Except there is still no power. Russian train manager says she can recharge them in her cabin as they have power. It’s about an hour later as we near Port Baikal that I go and find train manager’s cabin at the front of the train to retrieve battery. Bar car say to go to restaurant car. Restaurant car say to go through kitchen to staff car. Hesitantly, I go through. My five star surroundings give way to something a bit more native and another world. This is very much Upstairs & Downstairs. Train staff sleep four to a small cabin in very cramped conditions with toilet and shower at one end of the car. Train manager has a four berth cabin to herself but the ironing board in the centre acts as her desk complete with laptop and printer. The other berths are full of junk.
Grateful to be born this side of the fence.
Arriving at Port Baikal, a small museum at the station shows that during winter the railway tracks were laid out on the ice to make a short cut to the other side of the lake. In summer months a boat was used to transport all the carriages across the water.
As we’re at the mouth of the Angara river, the lake has thawed out and able to take the small ferry boat across the mouth to Listvyanka. Exceptionally clear blue water.
Listvyanka’s small museum houses an aquarium with Baikal fish and two seal like creatures zooming between two tanks look very bloated. As if they’re about to go pop.
Train staff have carted a load of food and drink over from the train and set up a picnic and BBQ on the banks of the lake. Chicken and fresh Omul lake fish from a local fisherman caught this morning. This is how you do BBQs. All very civilised.
Invited to visit a local’s house after lunch. The 16 year old daughter gives the tour in potted English. Her father being the fisherman whose catch we ate for lunch. Interesting local house made of wood but with PVC double glazing, an outdoor banya (sauna) and small garden with a well. Most of the houses we see have wells in their gardens. Inside is decorated as if you were in England in the 1970s. Quite basic with few ornaments. Street outside is simply compacted earth. Potholes are filled with whole bricks which seem to make it worse.
Return to the train for dinner and the return journey to the main line. Sun setting over Lake Baikal as we do. Snow capped mountains on the horizon morph from white to orange to red as the sun sinks lower and lower.
Lake Baikal.
You hit the spot.
A day to remember.
