Lake Baikal, a sacred place of Shamans and the deepest purest waters. It is the deepest oldest lake on planet earth with 25% of the worlds fresh water! You have to go there to believe it. I arrived, the lake is mostly frozen, three days later its changed colour, pure deep icy melting waters.
Home to the Burat people, there are shrines and sacred places everywhere, poles tied with bright cloth and coins and vodka scattered to ask for guidance from the spirits of their ancestors. The nearest village to Olkon village, where I was staying, is KHARANZI meaning 'seeing place'.
We went on a big tour of the island, so much raw natural power. Icy cold to cosy warm in a day, a thick cap of ice disappearing so fast, overnight even.
I'll remember the cutting wind, the overwhelming presence of Baikal, the clear air and beautiful sunsets over the cliff tops. I'll remember the huge kindness of Lyuda, the Vodka celebrations ( a different something to celebrate every night, a different cheers with every shot), the many many legends and stories, the Russian 'jokes', the many tales. For example, step in cow poo = lucky in love, lose at cards = lucky in love. Remarks from Lyudas Grandmother - Boys are not dogs, they do not like bones (ie, eat eat eat some more).
The trans-Mongolian from Beijing to Irkutsk was BRILLIANT. I saw Yaks, Camels - all colours, Yurts everywhere, hours of forest, hours of the Gobi dessert, hours of grassland dotted with the occasional lone person or Yurt. I found good company to pass the tedious border crossings with, good beer and nibbles and cards to while away the hours. The splendor of the Mongolian dining carriage compared to the stark grey of the Chinese one with elated prices to match.
And well....I am so pleased and proud that I am doing this train journey. It really is an epic.
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