Irkutsk

Irkutsk Coat of Arms

Despite, being in deepest Siberia, Irkutsk was a surprising wealthy and happening place. In the centre, there were a good deal of trendy bars and cafes with fashionably dressed clientele.

During my limited time in Russia, there is a decidedly anti-Obama feel to the place. I overheard his name mentioned as people discussed current affairs, but it was also mentioned by the people I met, wishing to reassure themselves that Russia was taking the right path with the Ukraine situation.

After the Russian tricolor, the Union Jack was by far and away the most common flag on display. I saw it on t-shirts, bags, and in shop windows.

The Eastern regions of Russia displayed quite a cross section of ethnicities, and for the men, quite a cross section of attractive women. Most people seemed relaxed and were probably reveling in the last chance to enjoy outside dining before winter sets in. There was certainly an icy blast on occasions.

 

Lenin

From what I have read, a lot of the industry in Irkutsk and other cities east of Moscow, originates from WWII when the Soviets moved critical manufacturing out of the reach of the Nazi war machine. This legacy remains today, with aircraft production amongst the industries which offer employment.

 

Hustle and bustle

Irkutsk is not the frontier ‘wild west’ town I expected it to be. 

Irkutsk train station

Lake Baikal

Irkutsk / Lake Baikal

A place I have often dreamt of visiting since I was a teenager, but one I never believed I would actually see.

If you research stats about Lake Baikal, you will come across superlatives like biggest, oldest, deepest, purest, clearest etc. It certainly was impressive, but I especially enjoyed seeing that the shores of the lake are still almost completely unblemished. You could easily spend two weeks exploring Lake Baikal and still only see a small part of it. I dreamt of returning one summer to spend a few days hiking and camping around the shores.

Lake Baikal from the shore

Our schedule only allowed Joep and I a short visit to a village called Listvyanka, on the shores on Lake Baikal. The peak tourist season had passed and the temperatures were dropping fast towards their mid-winter lows of -45C.

A great memory!

Almost as soon as we jumped off the bus, I walked down to the shore to touch the water and have a taste - fresh water. The water was perfectly clear, allowing me to see quite far into the depths. If I had a bucket list, Baikal would have been ticked off at that moment.

Boat on Lake Baikal

We took a 1 hour boat trip which gave us a valuable perspective of the shore. The wind was cold, although just bearable. A group of Chinese tourist clicked away with their multiple cameras, some couples enjoyed the moment with each other, whereas I moved around the boat looking for the best vantage points.

Boat trip

As I said, Lake Baikal deserves more than a mere 3 hour visit to do it justice. On the bus journey back to Irkutsk, I found myself wondering how much a flight ticket from Europe would cost.

That evening, Joep and I ventured into central Irkutsk for some food. We chose a restaurant that specialised in good old fashioned Soviet / USSR food. The restaurant staff were even dressed in Soviet era uniforms. Quite a wonderful day!

Trans Siberian Express - Vladivostok to Irkutsk

Train to Irkutsk

We found our carriage easily and were pleasantly surprised to see the large amount of luggage space in our 2^nd class (kupe) cabin. There is ample storage space below the bed-cum-sofas and a large storage area above the door. Currently (midway through our second day), it is just Joep and I in our cabin, although there are supposedly two people joining us before we reach Irkutsk.

The train itself is much as I expected. Pre-reading before the journey prevented me from having too lofty expectations. Everything is basic, but comfortable. 1^st and 2^nd class cabins have a maximum of 2 and 4 passengers respectively.

Joep and our Provodnik (attendant)

The only real discomfort for me is the difficulty trying to keep clean and fresh. Today I managed to do a good job of freshening up by washing my hair above the WC wash hand basin using hot water from the samovar. I have brought small cotton towels that are good for using once and then throwing away.

The samovars main purpose is to provide water for hot drinks and for dried noodles etc.

Our carriage attendant is a youngish Russian called Aleksander. It addition to keeping the passengers organized, he performs small cleaning duties, and sells his own personal supply of alcohol to make some money on the side. He is useful for confirming how long each stop lasts to prevent the train from leaving without us.

Sunset on the first day

The restaurant car allows us to sit in relative comfort and watch the landscape pass us by. However, in order to sit there, you need to be eating or drinking something. The Russia beers are actually quite nice, although the food served up by the kitchen is barely adequate. The traditional borscht soup was enjoyable, but the meat dish was not exactly haute cuisine. 

Night stop at Khabarovsk

So far, the landscape has been trees, trees, the odd grassy plain, and more trees. Miles upon miles of Silver Birch. Along our way, we have stopped off at a varying collection of Siberian outposts, ranging from fairly large modern cities to small dark villages with people moving around in the darkness. Taking photos from a moving train with grimy windows is quite a challenge.

Kane and church

Almost exactly 24 hours before reaching Irkutsk, we awoke to much chillier temperatures. A look outside the window saw a dramatic change in the landscape. As the morning sun rose, grassland stretched before us. We were also now following a river (we need a map!) with the train pushing through pockets of mist which at times obscured visibility.

Many of the trees along the river looked like Scots Pines due to their high canopies.

Kane relaxing on bunk

I ventured away mid-afternoon to stretch my legs and to charge my iPhone in the restaurant car and was immediately invited to sit down by Andriy from Irkutsk, his Russian friend, and a small shouldered shifty man from Tajikistan. All went well for a while until Andriy and his friends disagreed about their bill. Their warm welcome was, I believe, genuine.

Later I offered to buy a beer – they then requested vodka. After I declined to pay the train waitress RUB 3,000 for vodka (the price of an adequate hotel room in Russia), she delivered a warning that I had better not return to the restaurant car that night or her mafia friends would have something to say to me. The threat to scare me into buying an overpriced bottle of vodka didn't work. I took the warning with a pinch of salt – but it is not a terribly nice experience to be threatened over something so trivial.

We arrived to a foggy Irkutsk early on Friday morning. After a wash, the plan was to head to the biggest prize of all - Lake Baikal.

Vladivostok

Approach into Vladivostok

The ferry eventually berthed in Vladivostok approximately 5 hours late - a lot of my sightseeing time in the city had been lost thanks to the Russian drunks. Just before docking, an attractive Russian lady was hauled away by the ship’s crew - she had made the spurious allegation the night before that someone had been thrown overboard.

Close to shore

Still, the slow arrival into Vladivostok harbor was as breathtaking as it was interesting. The sea was almost dead calm and the small islands near the port reminded me somewhat of the Scottish Hebrides. People zipped around in speedboats or sunbathed along the coastline.

Lighthouse

I took a lot of pictures of the merchant vessels around the port, and used my zoom lens to capture vessels from the Russian Navy tucked away in their own corner of the port. The piece de resistance was a solo Russian Airforce Su-27 Flanker flying overhead which I just managed to capture on maximum zoom.

As the ferry slowly approached port, I eventually managed to pick Joep out waiting on the terminal balcony. We exchanged waves, but it was another 60 minutes or so before we could meet. Then, it was off to the hotel for a quick shower followed by dinner.

Joep was in no condition to sample the nightlife of Vladivostok so I headed out myself, spending 30 minutes walking around lost. Getting lost does offer some advantages -  I was able to witness the wealth of some residents in the city. I eventually found a nice bar, but it was a Monday night with very little of interest going on. After a couple of red beers, took a scary taxi journey to my bed.

Russian Destroyer - Marshal Shaposhnikov

The next morning, we walked with our heavy baggage down to the train station, ready to catch our train to Europe.

3 master

Arriving Daedong, South Korea

Despite having drank a reasonable amount the night before at the insistence of the Korean blueberry farmers, I was out of my bunk at about 7.30am the next day, woken by the sound of the ship’s usually unintelligible PA system.  Breakfast was quick and bland. Still, you’re never too sure when you’ll get your next meal, so I made sure to fill up.

Next up was to brave the sauna / shower room. Mercifully quiet and the hot water held out until just before I had finished.

Daedong Port

Thoughts then turned to our port call at Daedong, not too far from the border with the North. Daedong was a smallish and scrufy industrial city with not particularly much of anything going on. The highlight in and out of the port was seeing the numerous military vessels moored at the navy base.

Drying chill peppers

I had about 4 hours to wander around Daedong – I didn't see much. I sat on a wooden picnic bench outside a convenience store and managed to get limited wifi access. A little more walking to an uncomfortably warm coffee shop with insects climbing the inside of the window. The only other point of interest were a couple of elderly ladies sun drying their crop of red chili peppers beside the road.

A casual 20 minutes walk back to the ferry made me realize just how much different the ferry journey would be on the second day. The blueberry farmers had been transformed into Russian men, many of them drunk. From the polite tidiness of the well behaved Koreans to the drunken rudeness of the Russian passengers.

Korean Destroyer - Gwanggaeto the Great

The evening restaurant meal was filling but basic and unimaginative. After standing on deck watching the light fade, I headed to the bar that was full of the same even drunker Russian crowd. I chose a table in the corner away from the festivities and was soon joined by an amiable Frenchman from Montpellier. Unfortunately, it was not long before we were joined by Viktor, a 50ish ex-serviceman who spent time fighting with the Russian Army in Afghanistan and Chechnya. He spent about an hour talking about something or other, and then attempted to break my thumb when we shook hands. I decided it was time to leave and avoid the nightclub. How I miss the farmers.

Perhaps time to watch a film on my computer. Viktor said he’d see me tomorrow – lets hope not.

Well, this paragraph is being written at after 2am. It turns out my decision not to visit the nightclub was a good one – there was a brawl involving a group of Russians and they suspect one person has been lost over the side. We have been idling in the water whilst the crew performs numerous headcounts and passport checks. I wonder if Viktor is still with us.

The Ferry - MV Eastern Dream

Well, what a departure! What a night!

After sailing from Japan, I stood on deck and reminisced. Around 30 minutes later, I went down to the bar and ate some spicy noodles and a plate of kimchi. The girl working in the bar seemed a bit surprised I was up for the hottest dish they had on the menu.

BBQ time

I wandered around trying to decide what to do…..the ‘nightclub’ was open so I decided I should investigate. I ordered a beer but with little happening inside, I decided to sit on deck and watch the sea traffic slide by. I was quite surprised to see a BBQ in the offing and then 30 seconds later a group of about 10 Korean blueberry farmers dragged me to their table. One of the farmers had the personality and looks of my late father-in-law Takashi.

I was forced to imbibe a lot of Korean soju and asked a lot of mostly unintelligible questions in pidgin English. As the conversation went on, the farmers decided that I was a some sort of travelling university professor. They seemed slightly incredulous with my pictures from North Korea.

 

Blueberry Boys

We sat outside exchanging mostly unintelligible information for about an hour. Quite a bunch of characters returning from a business trip in Tokyo. They saw me standing alone so decided to take me under their wing.

We next all returned to the ‘nightclub’, essentially a big karaoke room. Although I was in a room full of Korean farmers and their wives, apart from the language difference, they could easily have been Japanese. Even the songs they sang sounded like Japanese enka.

The Takashi look alike then wanted me to sing a song in front of the 40 odd people. Rather amazingly, he wanted me to sing ‘Danny Boy’,  a Takashi favourite. I did the business and then later ‘Surfin USA’.

A wonderfully surreal night ploughing through the Sea of Japan, or the East Sea as they say in Korea. During the stopover in Korea, I think I have been invited one of the farmer’s houses for blueberry wine and lunch. Either that or they were talking about the baseball results – lets see what happens tomorrow.

Before bed and typing this entry, I went up to the top deck to look around and at the stars. A night never to forget.