I got visas on the brain
There are those that say that you travel to discover the truth about yourself. If that is the case then it is probably time to accept that getting to departure points on time, if that time is early in the morning, is a major weakness. With each breath showing prominently in the frozen morning air we are running down ul. Timiryazeva with about two minutes to cover the final couple of kilometres to the bus station. It seems unlikely we will make it.
A good portion of the blame for this can be attributed to one of the most ridiculous traffic jams I have ever seen. All the trolley bus had to accomplish was a left turn off ul. Lenina and we would be in plenty of time to find the correct shuttle to Olkhon. But trying to get across Dzerzhinskogo everything ground to a halt. With traffic from every direction somehow all in the intersection at once there was suddenly nowhere for anyone to go. This Gordian knot only pulled tighter as any time an inch of space appeared those nearest would rush to fill it instead of being patient and letting the one or two vehicles out that would unravel the whole mess.
In the legend of the Gordian knot, Alexander slices the strand in one swift action as a way to solve the riddle. With the spare time that we had allowed quickly running out our cutting action was to jump out the doors and set off on foot. Panic was turning to despair as eight o’clock came up and we were still far away. Then a big guy in the Russian uniform of short cropped hair, leather jacket, blue jeans, and black leather shoes stepped in front of the trailing Arnika and said something that made her stop. Not quite sure if she was in trouble I stopped also and went back to find out was was happening.
Ordering tickets.
It turned out that he was just what we were looking for. A guy with a van who was going to Olkhon Island. Except cunningly positioned to intercept those on their way to the bus station. Arny had stopped because he had yelled “Nikita’s” which is the guesthouse we were going to. Sometimes it is a good thing to be obvious about your status as a traveler.
So our little excursion began. Compared to almost every other place in Russia, Irkutsk had been remarkably straightforward. I have been trying to come up with a good metaphor to explain making your way through this country. Maybe something like walking a seemingly short distance through really soft, deep sand. The destination always seems close enough to touch but the energy required to reach it leaves you exhausted when you do make it.
Irkutsk is different to most of the previous stops in that it is one of the three main places that people do dally in. St Petersburg and Moscow being the others. This means that amazingly there is a choice of hostels that are bookable on the internet. It is such a relief to get off the train and just be able to walk up to somewhere you know you are welcome. Breaking with protocol we did not stay on an ul. Lenina, but were only two blocks away.
It is considered rude to wear your outside shoes inside the home. There is quite a balancing act require to kick off you shoes and get your foot in the rubber slippers and then place your shoes in the space on the shelves all while still wearing a pack front and back. Like the others hostels the Irkutsk Downtown was also a converted apartment. In this case two spacious bedrooms each containing four sets of bunks. A living area that was more luggage storage and occupied by the person on duty. Which meant that most of our time was spent in the snug kitchen.
In the brief chat that we had had with Anthony in Krasnoyarsk we had found that he was also staying there. After the unsettled night on the train the first few hours upon arrival were spent napping and emailing. His journey had been much more peaceful. He did say that there had been a lot of repair crews along the line. Maybe this explained the continual sounding of the horn which would have been unnecessary during daylight hours.
With a few hours of daylight remaining the three of us lads went for a wander to look at some cathedrals. One of which was supposed to house a museum of local studies. The tools of the trade for a shaman including human-bone rattle, headdress and robes. Tibetan Buddhist theatre props and a collection of stuffed local animals from past and present. All items you would not expect to be displayed in a church which, as well as the items themselves, I thought would be extremely interesting to see this acceptance of the other in a conservative orthodox setting.
It must have been a different one to the one marked by the lady in the hostel as all we managed was to interrupt a service. One of our books described the church as boat shaped, though this tidbit provided no further illumination. A very typical excursion in Russia. Set off filled with confidence, find the information given bears little resemblance to reality, wander round in confusion always hopeful that clarity will be found, give up, go for a drink.
We think this was the one we were looking for.
Having stocked up at the supermarket on the way back a big communal meal was the main plan for the evening. Sustenance was not the only hunger to be sated having been starved of conversation beyond our group of three. Joining us were also a German guy and two Englishmen. I forget their names. A supply of Baltikas was brought up to see us through. These other three had come from China the day before and everyone was keen for information about the other side of this the midway point. They did not exactly put our minds at ease as, having been unable to obtain Mongolian visas, had been forced into taking the long way up through Manchuria.
Part of the attraction of doing the trans-Siberia is spending all those consecutive days on the train. In stopping so many times along the way this is an aspect that we missed. There is a camaraderie that develops in such situations that I feel like I missed out on to some degree. But in considering it now, having reached the one other place that people traditionally see outside of the western capitals, I really wonder what sort of picture of this fascinating and rewarding country you could manage to develop with such limited exposure.
Another well labelled door.
The more I hear about China the more apprehensive I get about how it will work out. Getting around sounds like it may be even more difficult than Russia. Well, we’ll see in a few weeks. All my feelings on the matter are based on heresay anyway. A favourite pass time of travelers everywhere is to talk things up. I get so tired of it.
It is like that half hour right before an exam. Forced to mill about outside the lecture theatre there are always those people talking loudly about what they are expecting and their surety about what is upcoming. All I ever found this talk to accomplish was to make you feel bad about your own preparation. Arnika laps these conversations up. I think by now I could tell her story for her I have heard it so many times.
There is still no guarantee that we will even be able to get into China. Aquiring a visa is one of the great talking points all over. The Olympics have created a huge stir and all we are going on at the moment is an internet rumour that the rules are being relaxed two days before we will be in Ulan Bataar and applying.
Visas have suddenly become overwhelming in our thoughts. As well as China there is also Mongolia. In Moscow we had had the bright idea that there would be an embassy there and we could deal with the issue long before it became a pressing concern. Five floors up a nearly empty building there was a large area only half constructed. Actually this meant the embassy space was about four times as refurbished as the rest of the floors.
At one end of the otherwise totally bare room was a temporary wall with a single hole cut into the plywood. Through this three ladies could be seen drinking tea. The one who came to the window acted as though asking about a Mongolian entrance visa in the Mongolian embassy was the stupidest thing she had ever heard of. With nothing to do but laugh this off we assured each other that Irkutsk would be much easier and moved it down the list of things to do. A list that mostly had find accommodation in bold and underlined at the top.
The experience at the consulate could not have been more straightforward. They even had a map printed out to show the way to the exact bank branch where you can make a direct deposit to pay the fee. Doing this handily saves having to exchange for Tugriks. The friendly lady assures us that the processing will be done by the time we get back from Olkhon Island. It will be interesting if they are not. The Russian visas run out in a few days. Japan is probably the closest place to fly to that would not require entrance papers. I push this thought out of my head as our driver pulls into a rest area. Time for some mystery pastries.
Tags: bus trip, Church/cathedral, food, hostel life, Irkutsk, Russia, Siberia, Trans-Siberia, Travel, visa
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