Arshan

The main street in Arshan

Despite continually putting off updating the blog, I have finally found time to do so, and write about the weekend here in Russia. Friday was a national holiday here, which, for us foreigners, meant of course a chance to travel. JungHeum bought us tickets, and so on Friday morning we got ready not so rapidly, prepared some food, got some money out, took a couple of toilet rolls with us (we had been warned about toilets in Arshan) and got the bus to the bus station. We managed to crowd on board the tiny marshrutka and waited around for a while for the rest of the passengers to arrive. Eventually we took off. Arshan is just over three hours by car away from Irkutsk (quite near, really), in Buryatia. The trip was absolutely breathtaking, and the whole journey would have been worthwhile if just for that. From Irkutsk, we drove through a huge forest, covered in snow, until eventually we emerged onto a plain that stretched for a long way until you could see the snow-capped mountains in the distance. We went close to the edge of Baikal, and, as we crested the hill, we got an amazing view of the lake. Eventually, we arrived at the foot of the mountains, supposedly 890m above sea level. As we arrived and stumbled out of the marshutka, we wandered into the bus station in Arshan to book our tickets back (Russian organisation is such that you have to buy the return tickets from the location), which we booked for 09:30, as there were none left for the 13:00.

A view of the lake as we saw Baikal from the marshrutka

The mountains behind Arshan

After booking our tickets, our first adventure there began - JungHeum was unfortunately unable to recall when he was last here, and had no idea of how to get to the street which our homestay was at (Pushkin street). After asking numerous locals and almost getting lost several times, we did eventually find the lady whom the house belogned to, who showed us to our rooms (There are a lot of houses here which put up tourists for very modest prices as a way of increasing their income - they are easy to tell apart because of the signs on the doors which say жильё). Our cabin, separate from the main building was made up of three rooms - one main room and two adjoining bedrooms, with a stand-alone toilet in a shed outside. I say toilet, however, the word 'bog' acquires a new meaning in Arshan. It smelt terrible, and there was no seat at all, just a hole in the ground. However, thankful for small mercies, there was a light in it to illuminate it during the night-time. Once we had investigated, the four of us decided to go to the nearest place, the springs near to the village, which supposedly bless one with good health. Arshan is a very much Buryat village, and so we walked past all the Buryat ladies sat at the stalls on the way to the springs, trying to sell us little trinkets, some of which were fairly interesting. One, which I had not seen before, was a pitcher, which, when one drinks alcohol out of it, supposedly gives you good luck, or so the ladies said. She seemed quite keen for me to buy it, but, limited as I was in money, I politely refused. We eventually arrived at the springs, after dragging the two girls to see it. There were six taps all spewing out water, warm or cold. We tried some, and it tasted very much like iron, or, like rusty pipes. Interesting, but no replacement for beautiful mineral water. As it was getting dark, we decided to quickly find somewhere to eat. The first place we tried to get into was surrounded by some Buryat workers, who told us to find somewhere else. They gave no reason for this, but we deemed it best not to argue and went to the next place. After a delicious meal there, we went back to the homestay, and played Twister until we started getting bored. However, it seemed ridiculously early, and we refused to go to bed at 20:00, as that would just have been silly and made us get up at a ridiculous time in the morning. Eventually, though, we went to our rooms and to sleep, giving the girls the heater.

The river Kyngarga

The first waterfall

The night was cold. No, not cold, it was actually freezing. The girls enjoyed it well enough with a heater in their room, but with the fire having gone out, JungHeum and I were basically sleeping outside, although without the snowy element... Needless to say we were a tad cranky in the morning, and it took a good fire to bring us back to life. Fortunately Maria appears to be well versed in the dark art of fire-making. After a brief breakfast of bread and cheese, we went off to the springs and from there started our walk. One of the main tourist attractions at Arshan are the waterfalls. As far as I knew then, however, there was but one waterfall, which we went to, the others being further up river. We followed the Kyngarga for a way, crawling up and down rocks and treacherous steps, slipping and sliding here and there as we pushed ahead to see the first of the twelve waterfalls. I can imagine this path may be a lot easier in other months, but it was lovely to see nonetheless. Along the way we did see more little birds which would come and sit on our outstretched hands, although these were slightly more wary of us than those in Taltsi had been. The trees were really beautiful, snow was still lying on all the branches, and the river, which wound its way through a narrow gorge had in some areas frozen over entirely on top, although the water could still be seen running underneath. Beautiful. Towards the end of the path, we came to a wooden staircase, and a bridge which crossed over the waterfall (this is where all the tourists make it to, ourselves included).

The bridge over the river Kyngarga

Water running beneath the ice and snow

Eventually we dragged ourselves away from this wintery waterfall and braved the way back. Fortunately none of us fell in the river, although my boots were trying their best to chuck me into the Kyngarga, a prospect which I did not relish. Sadly, winter is hardly the best moment for trekking through the mountains, and the other walk will have to be left for a later date, when there is less snow and we can walk up into the mountains of see the remaining waterfalls. From what Amanda tells me, the first six or nine waterfalls are manageable without much danger. The following few are a completely different matter, but I would be interested to hear a locals' point of view on this. Indeed, if I were to go to the remaining waterfalls, it may be worth hiring a guide... Back at the house, we had lunch and almost immediately fell asleep for an hour, after which we walked back through the stalls, for the purposes of souvenir-buying (I bought nothing, and am merely taking a mental note of what I should buy and whom I should give it to when the time comes). After this, as we were walking back again (JungHeum had filled two bottles with the healing waters to give to a friend), we stopped and walked through the Sanatorium grounds, although these did seem a little bit deserted at this time of year. Eventually though, we dropped the new possessions off at the house and then went to one of the main eating places in Arshan to have dinner. They didn't have booza, the Buryat version of pozi, but we went a bit more international this time, ordering Mongolian tea - from what I could figure out this is green tea with milk. They also had a strange version of ketchup which also had pomegranate sauce mixed in. It wasn't entirely unpleasant either!

Arshan at daybreak

After this we once more returned to the house, where Lara and I spent a long while pampering the local cat, which we named Ivan, after Ivan the Terrible, for no other reason than because he was Russian. This night, instead of allowing everybody to become cold, we piled up a great many logs in the fire, and then kept it alive the whole night. Just before I headed to my bed, I made sure there were plenty of logs, and, as chance would have it, at about three in the morning I once more awoke, and, when I went to check on the fire, found that it had almost gone out. After spending about twenty minutes getting soot in my face, I finally managed to get the new logs to catch fire, and piled enough inside to keep it burning until the morning, which was handy, as it was a very cold morning indeed (and limited as far as toilet paper was concerned). After packing everything up into our bags again and cleaning the house / stripping the beds, we ventured out (the lady had not come out to bid us adieu - was a bit too cold for that I think!). We arrived at the bus stop before the marshrutka, but eventually it arrived and we all piled in, snuggling together to keep warm. I was sat next to a lady who, surprisingly enough had sat next to us on the way there. If the first time it had appeared amazing, this time the bus ride was surreal - a thick fog hovered in the distance, and we couldn't make out the mountains, but could see the snow on the trees, and the occasional cow strolling through a field. It was a breathtaking sight, and not one to forget!