Falling for Baikal, (14th December 2008)

Today we got up early to walk through the icy city and past the pretty little wooden houses, still in darkness, to board the local bus to Baikal - the largest fresh water lake in the world, which apparently would keep the whole word in supply of fresh water for the next 40 years, if we ran out today. Pretty impressive stuff. I slept the entire journey, cosied up under my thick jacket, literally unable to keep my eyes open - I think the cod os getting us more tired that we normally would be) and awoke, ten minutes away form our stop to the most almighty lake you have ever seen, shrouded in a low blanket of mist and overlooked by a striking mountain backdrop. It was simply glorious and I just couldn’t have imagined it being so impressive. We got off at the end of a little village and decided to walk back towards the start of it, several km from the direction we had come. It was the most incredible of days, crystal clear skies with the sun beating down (not to day it was warm) but we couldn’t have asked for a better day to be walking around the lake. We had heard that in the winter the whole lake freezes up to three metres thick, which is simply unimaginable when you see the sheer expanse of it, it goes beyond what the eye can see and had I not known any better I would have sworn it was a sea. The waves lapped the frozen shore line, building up the layers of ice to create the most incredible natural sculptures and walls of solid ice, we have ever seen and probably ever will. It took us significantly longer to walk the stretch of lake than we thought as we simply could not stop taking photos of the ice and stopping to admire, completely in awe the way it sheathed just about everything. Chain ropes were coated inches thick, jetties were layered up with a foot or so if ice and the breaks and walls were completely covered, so as to appear that they had been placed their on purpose by some ice queen, laying the boundaries of her land. All the while, the sun was beaming down, so when you looked behind everything glowed in different shades of silver and metallics, with the light bouncing between the water and the mountains.

We finally came to a little turning where our utterly useless book said there was a superb viewing point. Yes, there was but the book gave little if any real directions. We managed to find it though, first stopping off at a little ski centre for a cup of tea. Then we walked up to the top of the ski centre (which the book had neglected to inform us about) to the vantage point. the walk was lovely, tiring but gorgeous, walking right on the ski path (so we had to be quick on our feet to avoid any whoosers by) through thick forests, with the lake on one side - views of which were getting better and better as we got higher up. Only when we reached the top could we truly begin to understand the scale of this lake. On our way up we stopped to feed the sweet little birds as they darted around us. A couple actually landed on our hands as we held up crumbs of fruit bars for them, other just hovered by, a little too afraid to take the food. By the time we reached the top, the views were extraordinary. By the vantage point were a number of trees and bushes laced with paper tied to them for good luck - hundred of papers and ribbon and even the odd cigarette tied up blew in the wind, tying up people’s wishes. We had about ten minutes of relative peace to enjoy the views, before a hoard of day trippers descended upon us. The lake spread out vast distances to our left, right and ll in front of us, whilst behind us the snow sprinkled forests and pristine ski slopes glistened under the sun. Just ahead of us we could see the last tip of Shaman Rock, which is becoming increasingly submerged as the water level rises.

After soaking in the awe inspiring views and not really wanting to leave, we averted the crowds and opted for the ski lift down, which gave us yet another magnificent vantage point. We then walked back to the little market at the bottom, where we would get our return bus. As we walked we passed by this couple selling Umal, the venerated fish found only in this lake. Grandma and Irina had talked at great length about the fish and so we could not give up the opportunity to try some out. We bought one form the couple, forever etched in our minds as “Bear Couple” on account of their continuous bear like grunts! Not angry grunts, just bizarre little noises they kept making. In fact they were not angry at all, rather they were the happiest Russians we have come across yet, all smiles and jokes and insistent that we took photos of us with the fish, posing every which possible way there was to pose! Finally, we managed to get away with our fish and trotted off down the street to a quiet little spot where we could tuck in to the smoked delight. This was a a sheer heaven and hell moment. Heaven was the fish, which was like no other I have tried before. Mouth wateringly soft, smoked to perfection, full of the most magnificent flavours one could possibly expect - this was quite simply the best fish I have ever eaten. However, every mouthful was a painful one, with every second that we kept our gloves off to rip the fish apart with our fingers, our little digits crippled under the blistering cold. By the end of the few short moments it took us to devour the fish our hands were numb to the core and too smelly to put back in our gloves - not that it stopped us. Hands still causing no end of pain, we descended the last little bit of the path, just as the sun was beginning to fall and set, giving a gorgeous golden glow to the lake and surrounding ice and snow. We popped into a little market and picked up another fish, all for me this time - I couldn’t get enough, before we waited for our bus. A mini bus came by, which was going back to Irkutsk so we jumped on that, only to be driven a few minutes and then told it would not depart for 20 minutes. It actually turned out to be a blessing as it meant that we had time to witness the most incredible of sunsets I have seen in many many years, if not ever. Thy sky turned every shade of blue, purple, red, orange an gold, with flecks of green and silver gliding through the lines upon lines of colour as the mountains stood powerfully, silhouetted in the back ground. We could not have wished for a better, more beautiful way to end a lovely day, in the striking scenery - which we can only imagine is the best that Russia has to offer and which many claim ranks high in the world’s natural scenery offerings.