Playing the odds

After arrival in Irkutsk the first thing on my mind was a proper shower, however I needed to look for a hostel first. Visited an internet shop to find out that the places listed on the internet where fully booked. Next option, move to lake Baikal and find something there. I met a French group travelling the world who informed me about the option to take a boat over the river to lake Baikal. So I decided to tag along to the boat and have a nice trip getting there. French-English and Dutch-English don't go together very well, so I just chilled on the deck on my own and enjoyed the beautiful scenery. Just to meet a group of Russians crowding the deck and have a chat in English - Russian, as long as you use gestures you can sort of understand each other. After being offered a few beers there was a guy (Sergey) that did speak English and he invited me on behalf of the group to join them to their stop somewhere down lake Baikal where they would stay at a bungalow.

Decisions, decisions, I had no place to stay yet, I wasn't sure whether I could find something suiting my budget and wandering the streets in an foreign city isn't recommended either, as well they where very friendly and seemed reliable. So there I found myself on the next boat at an unknown stop accompanying a mixed group of 19 Russians. We arrived at a beautiful location just on the side of the lake moving to a few well furnished bungalows surrounded by trees and fields. However, there was one disappointment.. there was no shower anywhere. So I went bathing in lake Baikal to sort of clean myself up and join the crowd. This was followed by a game of volleyball on a Russian off-road volleyball field. Meaning thistles where just cut short and presented the lines. Dinner was great, the BBQ was better and the accompanying party was the best. My safety measure was not to drink any vodka, the one shot I did drink as a sort of courtesy I put half of it in my beer, when no one was looking. I wasn't planning to loose my consciousness out there.

The next morning I was worried about getting to the post office in time, my registration had been faxed over there and the post office would close at 5 pm. Unfortunately the boat to the first stop would not leave until 3 pm, making it a close call. We arrived at the first stop at 4 pm, making me optimistic of reaching the post office in Irkutsk (70km) before 5 pm. With Sergey's help I found a minivan to Irkutsk. I was considering asking the driver to speed up, but decided not to. This was a wise decision, there was one Russian lady that tumbled out of the van at a requested stop, she could not take it anymore. It was a straight but extremely hilly road, a roller coaster ride without request. The driver dropped us off at the center of Irkutsk, when asking him about the railway station he did not speak any English and I found I had left my Russian-English dictionary with my bags at the luggage storage at the railway station. (My bad)

It was already passed 5 pm, but even though I wanted to try and get to the post office just next to the railway station, to try my luck. Asking people in English did not work out, so for the fun of it I tried Mandarin (Huoche). This created a lot of laughs, but after bringing out a map we found a taxi driver to take me to the railway station. Correction; a railway station. I had pointed out the wrong stop, so from that station I had to take the train to the main station to find out that there was no way of getting into the post office.

I sure made a mess of this one, my train would depart that night. Staying another day would require me to register in Irkutsk as well and I would need to buy a new ticket to Ulan-Baator. I consulted the owner of the hostel I stayed with in Moscow, telling me not to worry to much, act like I did not understand them and just speak Dutch to the boarder police to avoid a 'fine'.

The last evening in Irkutsk I wandered around the city listening to some bands playing on the street, admiring the sunset and trying some local sweets. Irkutsk is a weird place, the contradiction between rich and poor is huge, represented in a beautiful boulevard and constructions seriously falling to pieces.

At five in the morning I hopped in the train, to find myself in a carriage with about 10 dutch people and I shared my room with 2 Belgian and a Russian. Somehow Belgian and Dutch people don't go together very well, even when I tried to restrict my comments and jokes.. Around midnight we found ourselves at the Russian boarder for a stop of 272 minutes. Let's wait and see... First we had to hand our passport.. After waiting for about 2 hours we received the next document from the custom office. At some point the provodnik asked me to walk with her, making me seriously wonder about what was up.. Apparently she needed a tall Dutch guy to open a shutter.. (I guess that one was on her). After waiting for about 250 minutes the boarder police returned with the passports, including mine.. I thoroughly checked it and found the required stamp for departure. Russia I'm off....


Russia is a free country; the government is free to register everything you do..