What a fantastic leg of my journey this has been.
The train from Moscow to Tomsk was a bit older and shooglier that the last one but still roomy and comfortable: not like the reputation I'd heard about at all. Its amzing standing on the platforms people watching before you board though - there always seem to be thousands of people waiting with luggage enough to sink a ship, yet when the train arrives , so far anyway, everyone gets everything on board reasonable easily. Anyway, I only had one cabin-mate the first night and he left first thing in the morning so I had plenty freedom to hog the window and enjoy watching the passing countryside. Most of it is wooded, but there are some little hamlets of ramshackle looking wee wooden houses and some more open views at times. Many of the little houses will be Dascha - the country homes favoured by city livers who stay in small apartments with little space and no grounds most of the time - but some will no doubt be permanently occupied, though what the do for a living in some of the remoter hamlets I don't know. (Apart from grow tatties that is - everyone has loads of tatties, dad I don't know how they'd live up in taste to yours but they certainly put you and John to shame as far as quantity goes - every imaginable space is used!)
Kirov was the first station where there were platform traders and some got on to ply their wares relentlessly between there and the next stop of Yar. They did leave when you said Nyet, but within a minute or two the next one would appear. It is, I suppose, the equivalent of doorstep selling and I would think generally a thankless task but I guess thats how many make their living. I also got speaking to an American woman in the corridor who was heading to Tomsk with her daughter and mother. The girl had been adopted and came originally from Tomsk so this was a trip for her to see some of her heritage, but it also transpired the grandmother's husband came originally from Rhynie before having emigrated to the US! Not for the first and probably not for the last time do I say its a small world. The three of them became good travel buddies as we enjoyed the travelling and pondered on how we'd like Tomsk.
By Balyezino the numbers of platform food sellers had increased significantly, but I was amazed as they scrambled under tains from one to the next carrying their offerings in baskets and bags. Scotrail would have a dickie fit yet here everyone knows the routine and when to get out of the way and how long they can stay wandering the rails.
Before my trip all I read about the carriage provodnistas were that they were a formidable lot and not to be messed with. My experience of them so far has been how helpful and friendly they are. Each one is welcoming and ready to try a bit of conversation and certainly are very hard working, hoovering, mopping and cleaning the carriage and even wiping down the external signage regularly. They, so far anyway, deserve a better reputation than that I was led to expect.
Reaching Perm, a big industrial city with much construction underway and many highrise flats the sun was just setting and was casting a lovely glow over the city and river. It was a lovely sight.
Through the night I was wakened at Yekateringburg as I got 2 new cabin mates: 2 French ladies, Annie and Marie-Louisa, both of whom spoke some English which compensated for my lack of French, and who became great travelling companions and good fun to share time with. Marie-Louise was a teacher of russian so she was also very handy to have around! They were spending a month travelling round russia by train and just made me think on Maureen and Helen and some of their wonderful holidays. Its strange how different people and places always remind you of things from home. The world may be very diverse but there are always silimarities everywhere you go to.
The next evening I headed for the dining car to give it a go and diligently trying to ask for some Blinis, I came away having had a meal of Beef, tatties and mushrooms!! Not sure yet if it was my pronounciation or just what they gave me regardless but it was filling and tasty enough if a bit expensive for what it was.
At one point we were joined in our cabin by a Russian business man - via Marie-Louise it transpired he worked for the railways - and he adapted to our company quite well! He was amused I think by all our diary keeping but came to point out nice views to us when any of us were blethering or elsewhere. Blame cabin fever or just our general eccentricity but the three mad fools that we were set an alarm to get up at 3 in the morning to go see Novosibirsk staiion! It is huge and very grand with huge chandeliers in the hallways and lobbies and cafe. I didn't go upstairs but apparently it was even more impressive. You have to give the russians due credit - they do know how to build impressive buildings. You may think I've turned into a railway anorak (and maybe you are right) but we weren't the only ones to get up by any means and it was worth the moment of madness!
Eventually though, we reached Tomsk, and despite my now customary detour as I misread, or was misled by, Russian maps I soon found Hotel Sputnik my home for the next three nights. I may have struggled to get accommodation here but the Sputnik did me proud. My bed and breakfast in a spotleessly clean hotel with a private room cost little more than many russian hostels.
My time in Tomsk was really enjoyable - it is a city with a very individual feel: it is very Russian in many ways yet has a unique feel - almost what I imagine scandanavia to be like and probably because of the distance travelled to get there reminded me of Churchill - a busy but remote town. Perhaps its because its a "young" town thanks to the university, or perhaps because there is a lot of wooden buildings, but although different to what I imagined, I liked it. The wooden lace architecture for which I really came to Tomsk is there, but its mostly on delapidated or decaying buildings in the obviously poorer areas of town, but the river tom provides lovely promenades where people love to walk and enjoy the views. Other highlights included the museum of wooden architecture, the underground dungeons of what was the NKVD (later KGB), and a powerful war memorial.
The museum is small and, although there is a huge collection of examples of an intricate craft which appears to be dying out, it is somewhat haphazzardly laid out and tucked away in little rooms in an old wooden property. The woman showing me round was very enthusiastic and gave me detailed information about everything, and despite the fact that she spoke noEnglish and me no russian her enthusiasm was infectious and I thoroughly enjoyed my visit. It reminded me of a smaller-scale Wick Heritage museum in a way.
The war memorial is a HUGE statue, guarding the eternal flame, of a mother holding up her hand in a gesture to stop and grabbing the gun from the soldier beside her. Its all on a big embankment and flanked by polished granite walls engraved with the names of those killed in the wars. Its very powerful and very moving - even with the Russian habit of having piped music periodically played from loudspeakers around the area, which for me breaks the contemplative atmosphere when its quiet.
All to soon I had to leave Tomsk, but I was looking forward to getting back on the train, and headed to the station in good time. As I sat waiting and watching a local train arrived and seemingly thousands of people got off. Every second one of them seemed to be carrying a pail of something and a bunch of flowers wrapped in newspaper. Goodness knows where they'd come from or what was in the little pails but it was a real Amsterdam and leeks moment! I had a real chuckle to myself and thought of you mum!!
The train from Tomsk is actually two trains heading in opposite direction! We had an 1.5 hour stop in Taiga in the middle of the night while the strain was split and shunted about till we joined with other trains on the mainline and headed off in our respective new directions. The train itself is older and rattlier again - presumably just as rolling-stock tends to get older the further north in Scotland I imagine the same is true as you go east in Russia. This one has no aircon - though some windows are openable, but others are misted up between the panes so it limits photo taking a bit which is either a shame or a relief for all of you who will be subjected to my photos in time! The countryside has become more undulating, but still wooded, but with some open plains and even 2 or 3 goats and cattle. Not something I'd seen yet - even with all the small holdings: I don't know where they get all their meat from. In a way I was reminded of Kintyre - minus the sea of course - but of the road from Campbeltown down to Skipness. Yet sometimes, too , I thought of the Glenlivet estate and some of the walks I've done there.
I was the only non-Russian in the wagon and there were lots of families with kids on board and by the afternoon the woman in my cabin had fallen asleep and her 2 kids - Maxim and Veronica - had befriended the wee boy next door and were playing alphabet lotto. After a while I was invited to be caller, but they soon realised I didn't know my letters well enough and Maxim(9) swapped with me so I was playing with the two 6 year olds. Well my card won, and although it is really a game of luck you've no idea how chuffed I was. My competitive streak obviously came to the fore, and although I could definitely do with a few more games I think it has helped with my cryllic pronounciations! I think my excitement at winning woke The kids mum up - but previously uncommunicative she and the mum of the other wee boy came in and the conversation - or attempted conversation started. It turned into a really enjoyable afternoon/evening and by the time I went to bed I think they'd just about got my life story!! However, it was nice to have really met and interacted with "real" Russians in their own environment, and needless to say photos were handed round and souvenirs exchanged. I had to leave early next morning, but bless him Maxim woke to say cheerio and wave goodbye. They were carrying on to Chita, and next door were going to Blagoveshchensk.
Irkutsk is a more instantly likeable city than some. Much more attractive than I expected - helped I suppose by the river winding round it ans sunny weather. It is also noticably busy -especially given the lack of traffic on roads after the last couple of days travelling, but with a bit of character to it. My hostel, too is quite good, and with an English speaking family of 5 belgians also staying there it was good to compare notes on Russia and the russians and to enjoy a couple of games of Yhatzee in the evening. They, too, are amazed by the lack of grazing animals, the way the russians love to have their photos taken and pose for photos at the slightest opportunity; the pleasantness of the train provodnitas; and the general unkemptness of the fabric of the buildings.
What I also marvel at is the wedding parades: it seems to be the thing to do at weddings is to parade round town in the fanciest cars or stretch limos you can manage, blaring the horns all the time, then get your photos taken at all the major sights and attractions of the town or city. All the while your guests follow you around drinking bubbly and eating cakes. It almost a reception, stag/hen do and blackening parade all rolled into one. There seems to be at least one every day so weddings must be less confined to weekends as ours tend to be.
I spent some time in Irkutsk with my usual wanderings to get the feel of the city and visited a couple of museums, and although my understanding was somewhat limited as all labelling is in Russian and mine's still not too hot at all, it was interesting enough particularly some of the costumes and artefacts of the Buryats. Also interesting was one of the houses belonging to the Decebrists - Volkonsky house museum. The decembrusts were "gentlemen rebels" who'd tried unsuccessfully to stage a coup aginst Tsar Nicholas 1 in 1825. Easily overcome the ringleaders were executed and others exiled to Siberia. Their wives abandoned their comfortable lives and followed their men0folk, setting up theatres, hospitals and schools in the area becoming romantic heros in their own right. The house thoughh not the glitz or brashness of royal palaces was nonetheless sumptuously and elogantly decorated, with some lovely pieces of carved furniture and marquetry in various woods. What also astounded me was the ages that most lived to: almost all seemed to have survived into their 70s and 80s which I thought was long-lived for the era.
The undoubted highlight of my trip to Irkutsk, however, was my visit to lake Baikal. It is absolutely vast and extraordinarily beautiful. I got the bus to Listvyanka and spent the day walking in the little valleys of hamlets and along the shoreside, and swimming in the lake. The valleys were so picturesque with little wooden houses winding higgeldy-piggeldy uo the wooded hillsides, the lake glistening and glinting through the trees below. The lake itself stretches further than the eyes can see and the water is as clear as its reputation. I'd been worried that it wouldn't have lived up to my expectations but no, it was wonderful. Its just a pity I didn't have time to head up to Olkhun Island as its meant to be the most scenic but I really enjoyed what I saw. The hot hot weather helped of course, and although the water was freezing at first you soon got used to it. All thse years as a kid swimming in Scottish waters maybe served as good training! Its so clear and banks so quickly you don't have to venture far from the shore to swim easily. When I was waiting on my bus back I met Annie and Marie-Louise again so it was nice to see them and have a chat again. The only problem with the day is that with the sun and clear water I have the sunburnt legs to prove it today. Still, it was worth every second of it and I can only hope that I manage to get anothe trip organised at the east side of the lake when I get to Ulan-Ude. I head off there overnight tonight for a few days - not sure how many yet: I'll have to organise a ticket to mongolia so it'll depend what I can get, but I have to leave Russia by the 10th. I'll actually be sorry so go despite the many idiosyncracies of the country.
On the way back to Irkutsk from Listvyanka we were held in a police convoy of at leat 6-8 cars as a Russian cycle team pulled out. They were presumably at a training camp here before heading to Beijing for the olympics. We had to follow the rolling convoy for 10-15km with no-one allowed to pass and all traffic coming in the opposite direction stopped well in advance of them. Eventually they turned for home and we could progress as normal. Shortly after that a big stately blacked out car under police escort passed by heading in their direction, so I wonder if it was some illustrious big-wig come to wish them well. Will need to keep an eye out for the road cylcling results and see how the Russians perform!
