On the train, Lake Baikal, Irkutsk

By the time we boarded the train we were ready for it. We'd been in Mongolia for 10 days and were ready to move again. Regrets: that we didn't take a bike tour around UB, and missed a trip to the Gobi desert. C'est la vie! Next time. In any event, we climbed aboard the train under cover of darkness with great excitement and anticipation. This is what we'd come for.

We traveled for two nights from UB to Irkutsk, just west of Lake Baikal in far eastern Russia. The first morning came quickly - by 5am we were at the Russian border, where we'd remain until 2pm. Long stop, though of course we were asleep for the first couple hours of it. Others found it more trying than I did, I imagine because they didn't have a good book by Iris Murdoch with them! Oh the unwise virgins... The Mongolian guards boarded first, took our passports, then returned three hours later having stamped them, done. The Russian guards arrived with more of a flourish - big, stately-looking hats, serious expressions. The station on the Russian side was far more polished and well kept. In the end, after rifling through various compartments and potential hiding places in our compartment, our guard told us to open our bags. Only a glance at its contents and two questions: 'drugs?' 'weapons?' ... Guess what we said!

And so we crossed the border. From there we had one more day and night on the train until Irkutsk. What do people do on the Trans-Siberian? For one, you talk with your cabin mates or other foreign tourists, which we did quite a lot. Coffee and tea (there's a samovar in the carriage), peanuts and noodles, beer and vodka - all of these are great social lubricants, even if your interlocutor speaks little or no English. On this first trip we shared our cabin (four beds) with Tom (UK) and Simon (Aussie), a charming pair of round the worlders heading for bright and shiny new vistas back in England. Our time was filled by: quizzing each other in Russian, drinking and eating, playing travel Scrabble, chatting, and listening to music. If you take this trip, remember to bring speakers to share your music. You'll be well-liked and will make many people happy for good reasons, not a bad fate.

We awoke at the Irkutsk station just as the train pulled in. There was a rush - get off the train! Go! Get your bags! From a sleepy stupor this is a lot to handle all at once, but we made it. After a bathroom break (paying for squat toilets! Ahem!) we followed our no-nonsense tour guide into a van headed to Listvyanka, a small town on the shore of Lake Baikal.

I should clarify: who is 'we'? Lauren and I, of course, and I've mentioned Tom and Simon (both probably 22 or 23). Other members of our party: a couple from Switzerland who kept mostly to themselves; Emma from Australia, who just finished teaching a year in Japan and decided to return home via *Morocco*; Mary and Russell also from Australia, an older couple with lots of adventure travel under their belts; Patti (from Pittsburgh!) and her boyfriend Matthew, a charming vegetarian from the UK.

In Listvyanka we were taken to our homestay, a brilliant model of sustainability with a garden, outhouse, and banya. No running water, but given the hard work of our hostess, Gallina, you hardly missed it. Our first task was to visit the Liminological Museum, where busy scientific folk study Lake Baikal and a museum of lake-related artifacts is housed. Maybe you don't know much about Lake Baikal - I didn't - so a few statistics. It's bigger than all five of the great lakes combined; it's among the cleanest lakes in the world (you can just lap up the water, it's fine to drink!); it contains more than 20% of all the world's fresh water. This is not to mention the hundreds of species endemic to the lake - found only there, in the whole world. All in all, this lake is something to be proud of.

We spent two days in Listvyanka, drinking vodka and walking along the shoreline. We even took a dip (I swam, or rather stood, in a lake!). One of the hidden gems of the town is Retro Park - make sure to have a look at those pictures. Someone's put a lot of work into these metal creations. Unfortunately he (or she!) wasn't around when we went to explore the place.

On the third day we rose from our beds and, following a memorably tasty pancake breakfast, were off again on our way to Irkutsk. We checked into our hotel, a massive concrete edifice dominating the northern side of the main city square. We showered (ahhhh!). We spent a pleasant afternoon and next morning exploring the town. You'll see photos of a couple of beautiful churches - the most striking I saw on the trip. We walked along the waterfront, opening upon what may be the fastest-moving river I've ever seen. All in all, the city is very European. In the evening, we purchased some pastries and snacks and beer and headed for the park to pass a few pleasant hours. That park could have been in Paris or Berlin or (I now know) Moscow, but it couldn't have been in Seoul or UB. We were still in Asia, but somehow too had left it. I was gripped by excitement for our westward journey, for our arrival in St. Pete's and eventually my own in Leuven. This evening in the Irkutsk park, Lauren and I later agreed, was among the most happy of our whole trip. Alleluia.

I've included some pictures from the long train trip - four days, three nights non-stop. Some words on that. First off this time we didn't have the same cabin-mates for the whole trip. The Russian gentleman we met at the start, and whom we thought would be our partner throughout, got off after only 2 hours! A woman took his place, but seemed keen on having some privacy, so we absented ourselves to Tom and Simon and Emma's cabin in the next carriage. (This was the first night.) Returning after midnight, we found ... the woman had turned into a man! Or rather she'd been replaced. This new fellow, whom we met in the morning, did stay with us almost through to Moscow. A former Aeroflot pilot, the man could do the most impressive magic tricks, and in fact taught Emma some of his trade secrets. By the end of the trip she was working the tricks as well as he had. The second night was spent in our cabin talking with this friendly fellow and drinking vodka, etc.

The only problem was ... well he smelled, very bad in fact. Lauren and I weren't sure what to make of it. It wasn't body odor exactly, though it was that too. There was something more - more pungent, stale. We learned what it was when our friend got off in Nizhny Novgorod. His bags are packed and set neatly on the seat next to him, he sitting with a pleasant expression having just finished a 1.5 liter bottle of beer. The train pulls into the station. He smiles, says goodbye, and takes his bags into the hall - but! Without a pause he returns, lifts up the seat and ... from the compartment beneath retrieves a spilt-over over metal bucket of brown liquid covered in plastic wrap. With this bucket and his bags, he's gone.

Source of the smell! Mystery dispelled! My God!

The distinguishing characteristic of the trip for me was the loss of a sense of time. The train runs on Moscow time, our watches are set to Irkutsk time, but the train crosses five time zones during the trip - so who knows what time it is? This temporal relativity, combined with a sense of linguistic isolation (very few Russian English-speakers), a lot of vodka and beer, no showers, and the company of friends one has met only days before but with whom one suddenly has a great sense of intimacy... These factors combine to create a sort of wormhole effect, a time warp, in which one's sense of reality is twisted or perhaps suspended. As Lauren commented, it's understandable why some folk like to take the trip from Vladivostok to Moscow non-stop (six nights!) just to extend this experience.

More tomorrow - impressions of Moscow!

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