I managed to stay in bed until 5 am, and drinking coffee in
the kitchen of our apartment for another couple of hours while I wrote
yesterday’s blog and studied the map of the city. Then I discovered that the
Icebreaker Angara was laying at anchor in the river port of the city and I just
had to go see it (I was under the mistaken impression that this was the
icebreaker that Alexander Koltschak was associated with). It is pretty far from
the city center, but I thought I could get there by using the trolley, so I
tiptoed my way out of the apartment and took to the streets. Of course I was
immediately recognizable as a tourist because I walked with the map open in
front of me. This prompted a sweet little old lady to come to my rescue, and in
rapid fire Russian she asked me where I wanted to go. I showed her the map,
which she studied with care, and then let loose another volley of Russian in
which I managed to recognize the word aftobus
and a number that sounded like 567,873—I took this to be the number of the bus
I was supposed to take. So I pointed to the first bus that came and made the
pantomime of boarding; she shook no with her head; pointed to another bus; and
shook her head affirmatively as I got ready to board. God bless little old
ladies!
The bus was headed in the right direction, and I could
follow its progress in my map. Then it took a turn to the left and entered city
center; no worries, that is what buses do. But then it made a 180 degree turn,
and headed for exactly the opposite direction, and all the while I kept a close
reference to our location on the map. All that I needed was for it to turn left
on Lenin Boulevard, but it foiled me by making a sharp right on Rossiyskaya
Avenue and going over the Angara! Jetz
bin ich in die Sose! And so started my unplanned odyssey across Siberia
(actually, across the outskirts of Irkutsk). It now occurs to me that my good
Samaritan had probably never read a map, and she had just sent me in the best
direction she knew how. Curse little old ladies!
After what seemed like hours (but was only 45 minutes) we
finally reached the end of the line and I had to explain to the driver that I
needed to go back. I showed him the map, which he turned around several times,
only to point me bad-humoredly to another bus heading in the opposite
direction. Doesn’t anybody know how to read maps anymore?
By the way, buses here are 20 rubles, and looking in my coin
purse I noticed I only had 14 rubles left. I of course have all sorts of large
denomination bills, but I could just see the scowl on the driver if I attempted
to pay with a large bill. I thought about trying to sneak out without paying
(here you pay the bus when you descend), but I could also imagine facing a
stern Soviet policeman and trying to explain the unexplainable. So I braced
myself and payed with a large bill; as expected I got a big scowl and received
in exchange a handful of coins. I waited for a complement of a few bills, but
the driver shamelessly pocketed my bill and proceeded to ignore me. Hmm,
perhaps there is some rule that the largest amount of change you can get is 30
rubles, and tough on you if you gave them a big bill of 50 rubles. It took me
five minutes to figure out that 20 rubles of fare and 30 rubles of change made
exactly 50 rubles, which is the “big” bill I had paid with. Duh!
Back in square one I did take the tram (15 rubles), as I had
initially planned, but the stupid thing turned left instead of right at the one
intersection, so I ended in the airport rather than at the port. No big deal
because I just rode it back to the wrong term, but I was really upset that for
15 rubles (US$ 0.25) I could have gone from the airport to downtown, whereas
when I had arrived I had paid the taxi 3,500 rubles (US$ 50). Information is
money to be sure.
I did finally make it to the port, and was glad to see it
was only 10:30 am. The “Angara” looked awfully small for a Polar explorer, and
had certainly seen better times, but I was nonetheless gad to be there. I
caused a small commotion when I asked if I could visit the boat, which now
hosts the Marine Museum of Irkutsk, but everyone was very nice and I finally
was invited to go in (at the end I found out they opened at 11:00 am, but they
made an exception for me once they found out I was Mexican 😊). It
was a tiny museum, but it had a gift to the scientific traveler: A geologic map
of the shores of Lake Baikal, printed in 1880.
Before I elaborate on the geologic map
I have to tell you that Lake Baikal is unusual in that it is extremely
deep. Lara told me that she had been at the Lake in November, and that the lake
was frozen and she had taken a car tour across the frozen surface. Pretty cool,
but I wonder if she knew that if the ice had broken the car would have sunk
1,637 m! That is 5,400 ft! How on Earth was such a deep narrow basin formed? I
have assumed that it is a rift, formed by tectonic extension, so imagine my
surprise when I looked in detail to the geologic map and found that the upper
Paleozoic rocks that crop around the shores are folded, and that the axes of
the fold are continuous from shore to shore! The only thing left is for it to
be an erosional landform, such as the remnant of an incredibly deep valley
glacier (the basins of the Great Lakes are the remnants of continental ice
sheet glaciers). I need to mull on this hypothesis.
My helpful docent invited me to see a video about the
icebreaker, and I then learned that it was one of two icebreakers that had
spent their lives plying the waters of Lake Baikal (so they never saw Polar
duty). The first one, the Icebreaker Baikal, was used to transport the
Trans-Siberian Train and its aristocratic passengers across Lake Baikal,
whereas the smaller Icebreaker Angara was used for smaller cargo and less
affluent passengers. The icebreakers were floated in the early 1900’s, but
pretty soon showed they were not a match for the deep winter ice, and ran only
between April and November until the 1930’s, when they fell in disrepair and
were abandoned to the ravages of the weather. The “Baikal” eventually sank, but
the “Angara” was rescued in the 1970’s and has been used as a museum ever
since. I was also given a tour of the engine room and learned that it was a steam
engine with three pistons, one smaller than the other to take full advantage of
the residual steam (a similar type of engine was in wide use among the Navy
ships of World War II because of its simplicity, reliability, and flexibility
on the type of fuel that can be burned in its furnace; in the case of the
icebreakers the fuel of choice was brown coal from the Altai Mountains).
By the time I got back to downtown I was hungry and tired. I
took care of the hunger at a donner kebab shop, and afterward decided to get
back home to take care of the tiredness. But then I felt guilty for wasting
prime tourist time, so I walked a long distance to go visit the Museum of the
City of Irkutsk (only to find out they rest on Wednesdays), and on the way back
stopped at the History Museum (a bit lame, except for a very cool exhibition
about the inhabitants of the taiga), and the Natural History Museum, which had
an excellent display about the many plants, mammals, and birds of Siberia.
I am now back at home, going brain dead, but will go meet
the group at 8 pm to have dinner at the local Brauerei (trust a bunch of thirsty Germans to find the good beer in
town!).
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