The journey, first off, turned out to be one of two halves. The first half was calm and relaxed and certainly helped by getting on at 6pm, whilst there was still some light. There was just one young Russian guy sharing with us, who got off at about 11 pm, so we had the compartment to ourself for the night. We got into the rhythm of the train and even managed to get some sleep. The next day we again mostly had the compartment to ourselves and we made serene progress across the Siberian taiga: reading, writing, playing cards and just watching the world go by our train window.
Our solitude was fairly abruptly halted in the early evening, when we got to the the city of Novosibirsk. We were joined by an old Russian women and a young Russian man and immediately we felt cramped again. As we tried to sleep, the train seemed to get more and more jerky: breaking heavily one minute, jolting and lurching as we rounded a tight corner the next, punctuated by a succession of freight trains which have seemed to get more numerous as we have headed east. These freight trains are huge (going on as far as the eye can see) carrying coal, stone and all manner of raw materials and finished goods up and down this line. All this, combined with the old lady below coughing, hawking and spluttering ensured that we got no sleep - oh boy, we hope not to repeat a night like that again too soon!
Our train arrived into Krasnoyarsk at 6.45 am and we stepped onto the platform shell-shocked and exhausted. The sun was still showing no signs of rising and it felt cold and bleak. Fortunately, our guide Anatoliy was waiting for us as we got off the train. After such a hellish journey, let us tell you straight away that relief was to come, as Krasnoyarsk has proved our most enjoyable stop so far.
All we could think of first, however, was some sleep and a shower. After a small mix up on our itinerary, fortunately that was just what we got and we managed to get a couple of hours of sleep before thinking of doing anything. In the afternoon, we decided to swop a tour of the city for a visit to the nearby Stolby Nature Reserve. We hadn't wanted this trip to be a succession of city breaks and we badly needed some nature therapy.
Krasnoyarsk itself is a city of 1 million people and the centre for the oil, gas and aluminium industries. The centre of the city, however, is very pleasant with lots of historic buildings and the usual statues and monuments that are a part of all the Russian cities that we have seen, but the main feature for us is the natural setting in the foothills of the Sayan Mountains and you can see hills and trees across the river from the city centre. So, after a few hours recuperation, we set off with our guides Aleksander and Pavel into the Stolby Reserve - a 30 minute drive from the city.
We drove out over a bridge across the Yenisey River: one of the biggest Siberian rivers apparently and nearly a kilometer wide at this point. Through what appeared to be a death-cracked windscreen (which we feared would implode at any moment) we saw rusting industrial works in the foreground to a backdrop of ski-runs, craggy outcrops of rock and the forest showing off its autumn colours like a strutting peacock. Two turns off the main road and suddenly we were cloaked in beautiful, peaceful countryside. Stolby is 17,000 hectares of mixed woodland and hills, with volcanic granite towers rising like cathedral spires out of the trees.
We hiked for 4 hours along trails that occasionally became very steep, reaching viewing points, where there always seemed to be the chance to get higher by scrambling to the top of one of the granite peaks. At the top of one (grandly named Takmak Stolby - I thought he played for Liverpool in the 1970s, but what do I know?), I over-ambitiously followed the guide to the top and almost got stuck - only getting down finally with an inelegant leap and forward-roll, ending in a Travolta-esque dance pose with a silver birch tree!
Our guide Pavel was an interesting character. It turned out he had a PhD in mathematics from the local university, but eventually decided he would have more fun as a mountain guide and spends much of his time in Nepal when he is not leading climbing and walking parties in the Rusian mountains. Our 2nd guide who we initially thought was just our driver, turned out to be the joint owner of the tour company and of a local restaurant. Clearly entrepreneurialism is clearly thriving in the new Russia!
This was probably the hardest walk that we have done for 3 years and Sue did incredibly well. I was worried how she would cope with some of the steep ascents. The answer was to leave me standing at most of them - she is truly back to her best mountain goat ways! Nevertheless, half a day was probably enough physically for both of us. We then spent a quiet evening at 'The English School Cafe' (the restaurant owned by our guide Aleksander), though we struggled to spot anything of the 'English School' theme, other than an imposing suit of armour looking sternly on from one corner and the blandness of the cooking!
The next day was also one of of our most enjoyable so far. We left our hostel in the morning with Anatoliy and Ludr for a 24 hour 'dacha experience'. We drove for an hour west of the city into remote open countryside, to Anatoliy's personal dacha, where we spent a day and night before being picked up again the next morning to head back for our train.
In between, Anatoliy and Ludr were most generous hosts and we had really interesting discussions on all manner of subjects. They had brought provisions for a 'dacha picnic / barbecue'. On arriving, Ludr busied herself with preparing food, whilst we went off for a 3 hour walk with Anatoliy.
The area we were in was, we were told, a 'dacha community'. It is very common for people in Russia to have an apartment in the city and a dacha in the countryside where they retreat for the fresh air and to be closer to nature. These 'dachas' are small plots of land that were given to people by the old Soviet authorities. Most people have built small, basic houses on them (typically of timber construction with sheet metal roofs and consisting of one or two roms with an outside toilet), but nearly all are turned over to cultivating vegetables, fruit and maybe some flowers. People come out to their dachas as often as they can, or even live here, during the summer months - and it is easy to see that people would very often have relied on the food produced. Interestingly, in the past, the land was usually given out by the organisation that they worked for (maybe therefore a reward for good workers?). So, we learned, we were in an area that was given to teachers and staff at the local university; part way through our walk, we crossed a small track and into the area that was given in the past to workers in the aluminium industry.
It seems that the people who come here are also great foragers and Sue particularly enjoyed speaking to Anatoliy about the local flora and fauna. We found many different types of mushrooms and berries on the trees which they eat or use to make wine. Anatoliy was disappointed that the crop of rowan berries seemed to be meagre this year, as he is apparently renowned in Krasnoyarsk for his rowan wine. The woodland was much more diverse than we had thought from our previous views from train windows, with all manner of different species of pine, larch, birch, aspen, rowan etc.
We felt a calm stillness as we walked and also that we had been given a great insight into the Russian way of life. People who often live in cramped grey areas of big industrial cities, have this rural idyll that they can retreat to, and one can sense the peace and camaraderie that they would get here, even though they have no great luxuries. I just wouldn't want to be here in the winter when they have several feet of snow for weeks at a time. Anatoliy told us that he comes here in the winter with his son and has to leave the car 2 miles away and make the rest on skis. Amazingly, he has just made a booking over Christmas to an Australian couple who want to see a White Christmas - they're going to see that alright!
We returned to the dacha ravenously hungry and found that Ludr had prepared a feast for us! With a little hindrance from me, Anatoly got a fire lit and we barbecued some sausages to go with the vegetables (all foraged locally or from the dacha garden). We had a wonderful vegetable broth, barbecued courgette and aubergine, home baked bead and a fresh salad - straight from the ground, the flavours were amazing.
Shamefully, we had thought that Ludr was one of Anatoliy's employees who had come to cook and clean, but in our after dinner conversation, we found that she was actually a maths lecturer at the local university and was here just for the fun of it and to practice her English.
Eventually Anatoliy and Ludr took their leave and we were left alone in the silence of the Siberian forest: a perfect antidote to the weeks we have spent on the road, moving from one city to another. The heaters kept our dacha just warm enough and we slept our best sleep of the trip so far.
In the morning, Anatoliy returned to pick us up and we headed back to the city for a shower at the hostel, before heading on for our train to Irkutst. More on that in our next posting, but in the meantime, here are some pictures from our sojourn in the forests of Krasnoyarsk.
Don't go there - you won't get down!
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