MIR Corporation's Travel Log:
Trans-Siberian Railway - Days 8-9: Lake Baikal, Irkutsk

MIR clients Helge Pedersen and Karen Ofsthus ride the rails of the fabled Trans-Siberian Railway from Moscow to UlaanBaatar on MIR's Trans-Siberian private rail journey as they check in from each stop with stories, photos and video.

• Days 1-2: Moscow
• Day 3: Moscow, Aboard Train
• Day 4: Kazan
• Day 5: Ekaterinburg
• Days 6-7: Novosibirsk, Aboard train
• Days 8-9: Lake Baikal, Irkutsk
• Day 10: Ulan Ude
• Days 11-12: UlaanBaatar

July 8-9, 2008

Starting Location: Novosibirsk, Russia

Ending Location: Irkutsk, Russia

Total Distance Traveled: 3,202 miles (5,153 kilometers)

The Russians call them nerpa. I call them little piggies because they look like overly inflated, furry grey beach balls with no neck, a pair of flippers and a round face with huge, liquid eyes and a snout full of stiff, white whiskers. The Lake Baikal seal wins the contest for the cutest creature on the planet and it is found nowhere else on earth. Unlike their torpedo-shaped, saltwater dwelling relatives, these chubby pinnepeds gobble up small omul and greyling fish and dine upon healthy portions of crustaceans in order to store enough fat to ensure their survival in icy Lake Baikal. Helge and I were very, very lucky. Not only did we see them in the Listvyanka aquarium with our traveling comrades, but we also spotted two in the wild as we bumped along the lake in a boat, photographing the Trans-Siberian Express from the water. Lucky indeed. They are very shy and steer clear of settled areas, fearful of the people who nearly hunted them to extinction. Happily, their population is holding on: there are nearly 60,000 little piggies swimming around.

Lake Baikal, the "pearl of Siberia," is one of the most beautiful and unique places in the world. At 395 miles in length, this crescent-shaped lake is the deepest in the world - over a mile deep - and holds one-fifth of the world's fresh water. Enough, our guidebook assures us, that it could supply the world's fresh water needs for the next forty years. With a surface area of 12,000 sq. miles, its own weather system, and thousands of endemic plants and animals, surely this 20-30 million-year-old jewel deserves the strongest protections. Siberians adore the lake, so they're working on that.

Seals aside, this really was a great day. After our small-group ride on the front of the locomotive (which was radically fun!), the staff hosted a delicious lakeside BBQ, complete with beautiful sunny weather. Grilled chicken, salads and plenty of alcohol precipitated a rather cool dip in the lake for some. They say you become 25 years younger with each dunking. If that was true, then Helge would be a baby in diapers, as he's bravely taken the plunge on several occasions. Without question, it was a great time had by all and, after a restful night's sleep, we followed the lake's only outlet, the Angara River, to Irkutsk and another fabulous day.

Irkutsk is one of the oldest cities in Siberia and is known for its splendid old wooden houses. Charmingly, they line the streets, at first glance looking dilapidated. But look again. Intricately carved fretwork frames roofline, eaves and broad windows with wooden shutters, painted in lovely pastels. Hundreds of them can be found in the city and stimulate the imagining of times past when fur traders, tea merchants, gold prospectors, exiles and ex-convicts walked these streets. Tons of money flowed in and out of Irkutsk, helping some to gather grand personal fortunes. Textiles and other goods were purchased from Paris, children were educated by the best French tutors, and mansions were erected. We toured one such place, Maria Volkonsky's House. Maria was the wife of a Decembrist, who along with other army officers, comprised a group of Russia's first revolutionaries. On December 26, 1825 the Decembrists tried to overthrow the government but failed. Some were hanged, while others were permanently exiled to Siberia. Some wives, wishing to stay with their husbands, decided to follow them into exile. As a result, these women, stemming from nobility, lost all rights, property, and possessions and traveled east into Siberia. Reduced in status to that of an exiled prisoner's wife, they even had to forfeit their children, leaving them with family who remained in eastern Russia. While they waited X number of years for their husbands to complete their sentence of hard labor, they built homes and got on with life. Maria Volkonsky's house was gorgeous.

Flowered or striped wallpaper adorned every wall. Fine furniture and even finer trinkets could be found in each room. Wide doorways with high thresholds kept out cold Siberian drafts. On the ceilings, wide larch-wood planks ran in a single piece across the entire length of each room. Treatment with egg yolk helped to seal the wood and eliminate the possibility of rot. And even during the coldest Siberian winter, the finest music could be heard drifting on the wind. Maria loved music and invited the most talented to perform in her home, providing the type of culture she needed and had grown accustomed to.

In Maria's sitting room, we were treated to a private piano concert complete with the splendid voices of two artists: soprano and baritone blended together in duet. An hour later, we made a champagne toast, one and all. Skoal! We raise our glasses to Maria Volkonsky and her enduring spirit!

A private concert is great, but two in one day? Now that's special! Our second musical was held in the belfry in the Church of the Exaltation of the Cross. I know the church has a catchy name; they all do here. But what happened in the belfry was truly unbelievable. Helge and I climbed rickety wooden stairs that went straight to heaven, via a long, claustrophobic passageway. Arthur Psaryov, a bell ringer, was the musician. A folk musician at heart, he began studying bell ringing about 15 years ago. Two times each day, every day, he climbs the stairs to the belfry and makes music worth listening to: sweet music that can be heard in the farthest corners of Irkutsk. Standing next to him and a crèche of Russian and German made bells was deafening indeed, but I got over it fast. Arthur started out slowly... ringing one deep bell, "Bong... Bong... Bong..." an announcement of what was to come.

Picking up speed, it was obvious that he was composing as he rang one, then another, pausing here and there, allowing the tone to be carried away. Then he just took off. Yanking each bell's rope faster and faster, he created dramatic sounds of steel clanging on steel, long tones and short, making the extraordinary music of angels. It was, quite simply, one of the most amazing things I've ever heard.

My memories of beautiful Lake Baikal and glorious Irkutsk won't soon fade.

Photos from this leg of the tour:

The train chugs along Lake Baikal		The engineer drives the locomotive
Our comrade takes a refreshing swim in Lake Baikal		Open air wooden museum
Wooden church in Listvyanka		Chubby Lake Baikal seals in Listvyanka aquarium
A church bell concert in Irkutsk		View from Church spire
Lovely song at Maia Volkonsky's house		We toast a tremendous private concert

A slideshow with more photos from this leg of the tour:

To start the Slideshow, click once within the frame above, then click the PLAY button at the left of the menu bar. You may also slide your mouse pointer along the timeline to view individual photos.