The morning we had planned to leave to visit Lake Baikal presented nevada. We hesitated for a moment whether it was worth the risk of driving six hours behind the wheel in these conditions. None of us would regret having taken the decision to go ahead.
The distance between Lake Baikal Irkutsk is about 70 km, but we went well over the North with the intention of reaching the island of Olkhon. On the way we crossed one of the most severe blizzards that ever lived.
Night had fallen and the last ferry us back to the Isla de Oljon, separated just a mile from the coast. We saw no one in all the way until we reached a small village hidden in the middle of the island: Khuzir.
He had an innate talent for music but what none of us expected was that he was a true Raphael fan.
We went to the hostel exhausted and hungry Nikitas. We heard a lot more affectionate greeting than we were accustomed. Sergei Era, a young guy, smiling with trimmed beard and transparent look. "Make yourselves at home", said, without asking and offered hot food and tea. Devoured him mumbling words of appreciation gift. Sergei is the kind of people who offers help without overwhelming and listen with sincere interest any story that comes from outside. Later he told us about the possibilities of the lake and suggested accompanying us as a guide through some corners of the island.. We accepted with enthusiasm and as if that moment were not completely magical, Nikolai appeared.. He is a man in his sixties who shares with Sergei a comforting joy in life.. Nik, what they call it there, He teaches music classes in the town and was encouraged to play the accordion. He had an innate talent for music but what none of us expected was that he was a true Raphael fan.. He sang with impeccable Spanish, no hint of russian accent, the entire repertoire of his idol and did not even know the meaning of his own words. Successfully ventured to sing "whatever they say ..." and we followed with palms and a gesture of astonishment unanimous. A rate of Raphael, in this remote village in Siberia, fuimos in sleep.
We woke up in the cabin more inviting and comfortable you can imagine wanting to explore the island. In fact, At night we had prevented even see the lake. At breakfast we expect the same smile Sergei friendly, excited as a child in day trip.
It's so blue I think anything blue will henceforth Baikal blued version
The first time I saw it seemed extraordinarily Baikal blue. It's so blue I think anything blue will henceforth Baikal blued version. Is Immense, serene and surrounded by mountains. Waning moon shaped and can boast of being the world's deepest lake, reaching 1.637 meters to the bottom in some spots. Nearly two miles of water vertically! I remembered looking at the lake the times my father told me about the Baikal admired by another surprising fact: has a fifth of the fresh water around the globe. More: there 1.600 endemic species of animals including the only seals that exist in freshwater. All that there, before our eyes.
It wasn't difficult for us to film the lake. The beauty of its shores made work and the camera easier, with the permission of Alfonso, I just had to be there looking anywhere. We walk along a deserted and cold beach. Winter was approaching and the sand was covered in a frozen frost that made it hard.. Some ice stalactites hung from the nearby rocks and birds flew over the vertical cliffs where one seemed to be looking out over the Norwegian fjords again..
The climate in winter is so extreme that even the conifers lose their leaves green and the wind rendered expire Siberian
Sergei toured the island from end to end. The car crossed small ponds frozen ice cracking into pieces and then we enter a dense forest of conifers. The climate in winter is so extreme that even the conifers lose their leaves green and the wind rendered expire Siberian. We leave the yellow forest to venture on a stretch where the snow had covered all. They were tortuous, frost ramps, rocks and potholes that made us jump seat more than once. That path had known few vehicles.
We parked the KXR where any possibility of advancing by car ends and we walked a good stretch until the last summit. It was the end, the northern end of Olkhon. At that point a kind of altar has been established with a pile of stones as a sign of those who reached that place..
The next day, Sergei signed up without hesitation for our second foray around the island. On the way we pass through a small fishing village.. There were actually three little wooden houses., possibly relatives, Secluded from the world but with a lake to themselves for many miles around.
Buryats means “traitors” in the Mughal language of Genghis Khan. It was the Mongol emperor himself who kindly sought their name for having challenged his authority..
We had been especially interested in the history of the Buryats or buriets whose name means “traitors” in the Mughal language of Genghis Khan. It was the Mongol emperor himself who kindly sought their name for having challenged his authority.. Expelled from Mongolia they reached this icy oasis that they inhabit to this day. They have lived on the island for centuries. In fact, the Buryat Republic extends from the Russian-Mughal border to the southern shore of the lake.. A wedding was going to be held in a small town populated by these poor traitors., but they didn't let us attend to record the event.
It did not matter, the rest of the island was at our disposal. The best thing about Oljon is that there are not many conventional roads. The car allowed us to climb hills from where we could see the Baikal between white mountains or cross an ancient gulag, one of those concentration camps where the Soviet Union deported its political prisoners. Today their remains form a lonely village where the descendants of some condemned people live..
We chose one of the most remote places in the world, looking out over the fresh water of the lake that will soon freeze.
We chose one of the most remote places in the world, looking out over the fresh water of the lake that will soon freeze. We lit a fire and shared with Sergei a delicacy also endemic to that place.. The man It is an exquisite fish that we tasted while that cheerful Russian told us about the mysticism of Baikal.. Sergei is a very religious man, orthodox and aspiring saint in life. He enjoyed the lake and, as he told us, he acquired a certain complicity with that place., a serenity that apparently prevented him from wasting his time with a bad gesture. Good old Sergei never got angry. The truth is that the mysticism of the island is represented everywhere. We saw colorful fabrics hanging from the trees and some types of totems with a spiritual air.. The influence of shamans, the buriats, Orthodox and even Buddhists have left their mark throughout the island. The symbology in the middle of nature does have something mystical.
The morning we left the island, Sergei said goodbye to us in a tiny Orthodox hermitage. He prayed for us and wished us luck. It was difficult for the three of us to leave that place.. Olkhon was once a cold spot on the map. Today, thinking about the island is fondly remembering the mysticism of Sergei, the joyful sound of accordions and the magic of the blue Lake Baikal.
