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The Aspens are turning in Siberia! |
Irkutsk was our first railroad stop in Russia, and we had
the good sense to book a hotel in Listvyanka, a small picturesque village on
Lake Baikal, where the lake’s water flows out the Angara River, the only
outbound river on the lake.
The rainy,
moody day of our arrival broke to overcast with grey humid clouds hanging in
the valleys with spots of blue sky.
In
the distance, we could see the snow-capped peaks of the Khamar-Daban Mountains on
the southwest side of the lake.
A long,
long ridge.
And this wasn’t new snow
from the rains, but snow that keeps winter to winter.
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Monster Cabbage in Nicola |
We hiked to the village center we saw in the
distance up the river – only to discover that I (chris) was wrong.
This muddy dismal port town was Nicola.
Nonetheless, there were a few homes with
fresh blue-painted shutters and windows filled from inside with flowering
geraniums.
And this place of extreme
temperatures knows how to garden too.
Nicola, the less-favored of the ‘charming villages’ on the lake is home
to some monster cabbage plants and nearly everyone has a greenhouse to extend
the growing season.
We found a tour bus
leaving a restaurant (our new technique for restaurant
Our evening
brought continued clearing and a brilliant sunset that made the most of the
remaining clouds.
We enjoyed the show
with some more local vodka (another new favored technique).
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across the Angara as it enters the Lake |
recommendations with
some possibility of English usage) and had our first taste of Omul, a fish
native only to the lake. It turns out that there are lots of animals native
only to this lake including the fresh water snow seal – hunted ferociously for
centuries but now protected.
The next day, we walked the opposite direction from the
hotel down the main road, and found the village center we had been looking
for.
Listvyanka turned out to be small,
quaint, yet bustling with activity along the waterfront.
Travelers wandered up and down the main
street and waited on the docks for the ferries going back and forth, between
Listvyanka and ports miles away on the Lake.
We sat on a bench and had an impromptu chat with an Australian
squeeze-box-playing tourist looking for a ferry with his Chinese friend.
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School's Out! Boys in searsucker suits
(no relation to the snow seals) |
We bypassed the souvenir vendors and found a highly-recommended
café – Proshily’s Café – or at least we think we found it – all signs are in
the Russian Cyrillic alphabet here.
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Proshily's Cafe! (we think) |
Had
a delicious meal, anyway – two different kinds of local fish, Omul and Sig, a white
fish, and vegetables, both grilled to perfection. Our hiking continued up to a
ski area.
One (really slow) lift, five
runs, a base area that reminded me of Geneva Basin in the late 70’s (except not
as nice).
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an old worn out ski area |
We pondered if they had a
Guest Services squad and if there could possibly be any colder ski area where
the average here in the winter in -25F.
In
the evening, we enjoyed another spectacular sunset show over the lake.
This was a nice introduction to Siberia, in
spite of the dourness of the locals (“Icy Ivans” as they are called).
Do they know something we don’ know? We keep
doing drive-bys of the news to see the status of Syria to determine if our Yank
passports are the problem.
Anyway, a
lovely town, excellent food, gorgeous, big beautiful, epic lake surrounded by
snow-capped peaks and glaciers.
What could
be better?
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