Kamchatka
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Introduction
When I was young, we used to play a board game called Risk, which involved building armies and conquering the world, a region at a time. One of the few things that I remember about it is that the eastern-most province in Russia- just a stone's throw from Alaska- is called Kamchatka. It's not just me either: several people my age, as soon as I mention Kamchatka, say "Risk"!. When I lived in Egypt, my friend Irina told me a lot about Kamchatka, the place where she grew up: mountains, volcanoes, bears, open spaces, hot springs, and the sea. It sounded wonderful to me. When Irina returned to Russia, we kept in touch: she invited me to visit her several times, but I always had other plans or just felt that it was a long way to go. Now that I live in Bali, I though that it would be a lot nearer, but I was wrong: It's still about 8,000km away. At the end of May, I decided that I should go anyway.
Irina was very pleased when I told her that I wanted to come. We agreed that the first two weeks in August would be the best- good weather, and plenty of time to arrange a visa. I checked out flights for the expensive part of the trip (Hong Kong to Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsk) and bought some tickets (refundable... just in case!), and Irina went to the KGB office to apply for an official invitation. The weeks passed by and there was no sign of an invitation, then at the beginning of July Irina sent me a picture of my invitation. I thought that I would need to go to the Russian Embassy in Jakarta (a one-hour flight from Bali), but then I found that there is a Russian consulate in Bali. I emailed them and asked whether it was possible to apply for a visa at the consulate, and they replied to say yes. They said that it would take about two weeks and sent me a list of documents to provide: it included the official invitation, so Irina went to the TNT office and sent it to me.
Meanwhile, I started on the online application for the visa: this required quite a bit of research, as they wanted the dates of birth of my parents and my ex-wife, details of previous passports, and a list of all countries visited within the past ten years. With dates. I travel quite a lot, so this was quite a daunting prospect. I set to work and, two days later, I had a full list- 88 countries, excluding layovers of less than a day. Two weeks later, with just two weeks before I was due to leave, the invitation arrived. I went to the consulate, which wasabout an hour and a half ride on my scooter. It turned out to be in a very rural area- chickens in the street, unsurfaced roads- near Nusa Dua. The consul was concerned about the short time left: she recommended paying extra for the express service which was $240, She sounded pretty confident that I would get the visa in time, so I agreed.
Less than a week later, the consul told me that my visa was ready... Yes!!! I was going to Kamchatka!
Getting there
My journey involved four flights: first a short hop and an overnight stay in Kuala Lumpur, then three flights in a row to Hong Kong, Vladivostok and finally Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsk. I have visited Kuala Lumpur before: it is an interesting city, with a nice mixture of modern buildings and traditional village-like communities. They recently opened a new rail link to the airport: in less than half an hour, you are in KL Central station. There are dozens of small hotels around KL central- they are very reasonably priced, with small but modern and clean rooms- perfect for a stopover. I hadn't travelled far, but I had to get up early so I just went to a local sushi restaurant for dinner and then went to bed.
On the next leg of the journey, I sat next to an Indian girl. She didn't speak English, so we had to use sign language. This didn't seem to work as well as I would expect, then I remembered that Indians nod their heads for 'no' and kinda wobble their heads for 'yes'.
There is a similar problem with Russian, in that the inflection rules are different. If you ask a question in English, the pitch goes up on the last word: in Russian, the focus-word of the question is marked with an up-and-down in pitch which sounds quite tetchy to English speakers. Add to this that Russian doesn't use inversion ("He is.." -> "Is he...?) to mark questions, and it's very easy to miss a question in your non-native language.
Less confusing, but fascinating to me, is the inflection used for the non-verbal expression of agreement "Uh-uh". In English, the pitch rises for the second "uh", whereas in Russian it rises and falls on both "Uh"s, with the second being slightly lower in pitch.
2nd August
After nearly 24 hours of travel, it was a great relief when the captain announced that we were starting our descent into Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsk. There was solid cloud below, and it stayed like that until we were close to the ground. We touched down and the plane pulled up outside a modest terminal building- I had arrived in Kamchatka! It was only a few metres to the terminal, but when we got out of the plane, a bus was waiting to pick us up. It took us to a separate building- a clear plastic half-cylinder that looked like a big polytunnel. As we entered, we passed a large courtyard and could see people waiting at the gate on the far side: I was very happy to see Irina wave at me. I went in to the polytunnel, which I now realised was the baggage reclaim belt. My bag was one of the first out, and I it took it off the belt and went outside to meet Irina. She called for a taxi and, while we were waiting, we went to look at a small church next to the terminal, but it was locked. The taxi arrived and we were soon back at Irina's apartment: well, after 24 hours of travel, even a 30km journey seems quite fast. I had a much-needed shower and Irina gave me some breakfast.
I noticed a picture of Vladimir Putin on Irina's fridge, and asked her about it. Russia and Putin don't have a very good reputation in the west: in America, Trump is regarded as Putin's bitch (though I'm not sure who exactly that reflects badly on). In the UK, there is a long-running story about a poisoned Russian spy, and in Ukraine you can buy Putin toilet paper. In Russia, though, Putin seems very popular, whereas Gorbachev, the darling of the West, is regarded practically as a traitor in Russia. The post-soviet union period was very difficult for many people: government workers and pensioners were not paid for month, food was in short supply...
After breakfast, we went to the government office to register me as a visitor. Everything looked very new and efficient: the receptionist said that we could fill in the forms ourselves or pay to have a guy upstairs fill in the forms for us. We decided that it couldn't be too difficult to do it ourselves, until she handed us two copies of a two-page form. It was clearly designed to be computer-readable, but was not designed to be human-flllable: The boxes for the letters were way too small. The labels were in Russian, so Irina decided to fill it in. The only place available for form-filling was a tiny, very high, bar-style table, and Irina had to stand on tiptoe to use it. Finally we got the forms finished and took them back to the receptionist: she pointed out a couple of corrections that Irina had made and said that the forms weren't clear enough. We gave in and went upstairs. We gave the guy our documents and he typed in all the information then printed out the form: 650 roubles later, we headed back downstairs and gave them to the receptionist. She gave us a ticket with a number, and soon we were called to the desk of a rather frosty lady who, according to the sign on her desk, was called Victoria Victorova. V.V. took the form then typed the information into her computer. Sigh.
Now that I was officially a visitor, we started a little tour. The city centre is like any modern European city, but the area adjacent to Avacha bay was like a pretty seaside town. In the Soviet Union years, there were a lot of military research establishments in Kamchatka. It's geographically inaccessible, so it was possible to keep it secret from other Russians that the top scientists enjoyed a western lifestyle to make sure that they didn't defect.
We ended up walking on the beach and, on the way back, we passed statues and memorials for several military campaigns. There were the obvious ones like the two world wars, but there were also several local battles. It was hard to imagine what British or French troops were doing so far from home, or how they ever imagined that they could win. Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsk also has one of the few remaining statues of Lenin.
We passed a tiny old wooden church, and went inside. Irina put on a scarf, bought candles and did a seemingly random tour of the icons- sometimes saying a prayer, other times lighting a candle or touching the icon. When we left, I noticed that they were building a new, concrete structure next door, which had none of the charm of the original.
Finally we went to a market- a big, clean, bright space like a supermarket, but with several separate stalls selling their wares. Fishing is one of the main industries in Kamchatka, so it wasn't surprising to see a lot of fish in the market. Somebody told me that Kamchatkans live on red fish (salmon) in summer, and white fish in winter.
Later we went to a quiz night in a bar: it was a pretty busy event, with over 40 teams of around eight people. Irina and her team, "funny guys", play regularly, and they hoped that I would be able to help with the questions about English films and music. The rest of the group were pretty smart: doctor, lawyer, etc: that was fortunate because I couldn't help them much. The quiz master showed the questions on a big screen and read them out: the speech was too fast for me, and speed reading the russian was a challenge. There were only half a dozen questions that I could answer, and the others also knew the answers to most of them. By the end of the first round, we had full marks, but after two more rounds we were down to 29th. We recovered a bit toward the end, and finished 21st.
When we got home, Irina asked me what I was planning to wear for our walking trip the following day. She said that my black leggings were 'not appropriate', and gave me a very large pair of track suit trousers. They wouldn't stay up until I had shortened the waistband string, and once I'd done that, I couldn't undo the knot. It was going to be difficult getting in and out of them. By this stage I was pretty tired, so I was very happy to go to bed.
3rd August
I was not so happy about getting up at 7am the following morning, but we had to catch a minibus at 8am. Irina made some final adjustments to my outfit: when we went outside, it was a lot cooler than I'd expected, so I was grateful for her advice. We walked to the main road and waited for our minibus to arrive.
Soon after we started moving, the driver put on a headset and started giving us a running commentary: this continued for most of the day. Irina translated some of the more interesting items, but a lot of it was some weird stuff about about pyramids and Peru: Irina spared me the details. Leaving Petropavlovsk, we crossed a plain and started climbing into the mountains, then turned off the road onto a track. Before long, we stopped next to a stream: there was a pipe so that you could fill bottles with water. The guide told us that this was Silver Creek: the water was very pure, and if you washed in it you would become rich. Irina filled two bottles to take home with her.
The track narrowed down progressively till it was just wide enough for one car, and eventually fizzled out altogether. We parked next to a group of unfinished buildings- maybe some kind of mountain resort. There was a swimming pool filled with steamy water, and I wondered whether this was the hot spring that were visiting.
As soon as we got out of the minibus, we were surrounded by the biggest mosquitoes I have ever seen: the air was thick with them. The others all had mosquito spray, so the mosquitoes left them alone and focused on us. The guide took pity on us and gave us some of her mosquito cream, but I was very grateful for having long sleeves an long trousers.
Several people had a foam block a couple of centimetres thick attached to their rucksacks: I wondered whether this was some kind of lame swimming aid for the hot springs. I later realised that it actually very useful- you strap it on around your hips, and when you sit down your bum stays warm and dry. Very clever.
We set off walking: initially, it was pretty steep uphill, but after half an hour it levelled out a bit. We were walking up the side of a gently sloping valley. At times, we were surrounded with plants that were taller than us: at other times, there were gnarled birch trees, some of them 300 years old. When there were gaps in the vegetation, we could see patches of snow on the mountains on the other side of the valley, and occasionally the view opened out to show snow-covered volcanoes in the distance.
Every so often, the guide blew a whistle: Irina explained that the whistle kept the bears away. I decided to help by blowing my whistle too. At one point, the guide pointed out a bear poop: clear evidence that bears do shit in the woods.
At midday we arrived at a plateau next to a river: at first glance, I thought that somebody had lit several fires that were still smouldering, then I realised that it was steam rising from the hot springs. There was a big metal pipe that spewed out very hot water: it flowed into two pools- the first quite small and hot, the second larger and cooler.
We had a picnic lunch: cheese, salami, tomatoes, cucumber and eggs, with tea and cranberry juice. Next came the main attraction. We changed and quicky jumped into one of the hot pools before the mosquitoes could eat us. The hot water flowing into the pool stayed on the surface: it was warm underneath but if you kept stlll the surface water got a lot hotter. There was a long log floating on the surface, and this made it possible to float almost entirely in the surface layer.
After about ten minutes, Irina said that I needed to get out and cool down for a while, but I really didn't fancy my chances with the mosquitoes. In fact, they weren't too bad if you stayed in the steamy air close to the pool. I went back into the pool for another soak, but most of the others had started getting changed. It seemed a shame after walking so far to spend so little time in the hot water. I later realised that hot springs were no novelty for Kamchatkans.
We reluctantly got dressed and started off down the hill. I couldn't understand why my backpack was so heavy, given that we had eaten most of the food at lunchtime, then I realised that I was carrying the bottles of water from Silver Creek: two kilos of dead weight that could easily have stayed in the minibus.
On the way back, I started talking to the woman in the seat next to me. She and her family live in Kamchatka. She had one of the foam bum-seats and I said that they looked really useful: she very kindly gave me hers. Russian hospitality.
4th August
A quiet day today: in the evening, were going to an anniversary party for Kristine (Irina's niece) and her husband Dima, at Irina's family's dacha. But first, Irina had to do a bit of work at her shop, and we had to buy some presents for the anniversary couple.
First we went to a market to buy something to eat. Irina suggested cottage cheese: it didn't sound all that interesting on its own, but I decided to give it a try. I also bought some sour cream: I have tried it before in Ukraine and it's really good spread on pancakes and other desserts. When we got to the shop, we made some tea and then started eating the cottage cheese. it was sweetened, and came as a small brick wrapped in silver foil: you could peel back the foil and eat it like an ice cream. It was pretty good.
The shop was pretty quiet, so Irina got busy cleaning the floor and I settled down with a book. When everything was spick and span, there were still no customers so we popped out to a nearby electrical store. Irina wanted to buy an electric pressure cooker as a present: the assistants brought out several for her to look at. I was surprised to note that you could control the pressure cooker from your phone. I mentioned this to Irina, and she said "that's nothing!" She pointed out a kettle that you can control from your phone. When I thought about it, the pressure cooker kinda made sense: you could select from a wide range of cooking profiles for different dishes. But a kettle? It boils water. End of story.
Kristine had a baby recently and I had brought a present for the baby from Bali: a batik-printed elephant. I asked whether there was something that I could get as an anniversary present. Irina consulted her sister Angela, who said that she would get back to us.
We went back to the shop and made some tea. I settled down in the chair provided for husbands of shoppers, and read my Kindle. Before long, a few customers started drifting in and out. One of them was a moderately attractive, very well dressed woman. She tried on a dress, but it didn't suit her at all. Over the next hour, she tried on over a dozen dresses: some looked really good on her, but she wasn't satisfied. I don't often go shopping for clothes with women, and it was quite and interesting experience for me. It was getting close to closing time and we needed to go to the Dacha, but Irina was determined to make a sale, and eventually the woman bought one of the dresses- not the one I thought she looked best in, but she was happy.
We tidied up and closed the shop, then went out looking for a presents. Angela has suggested some cooking implements- spatula, slotted spoon, potato masher etc. We went to several shops looking for a set, but there weren't any nice ones, so we settled for several individual items. We also bought some gift wrapping, then went to the bus stop.
My dictionary translates dacha as a summer house, but it's actually used all the year round. Almost everybody in Petropavlovsk-kamchatsk lives in an apartment, so a lot of people have a place in the country where they can relax and get some fresh air. Every Dacha has a small patch of land to grow flowers and vegetables, and a building that can be anything from a glorified garden shed to a proper house. In winter, it's not very far to the mountains for skiing.
Our bus took the main road about 20km out of town and dropped us off at a supermarket dedicated to servicing the many dachas in the area. Irina's cousin, also called Dima, picked us up and took us to the dacha, a pleasant wooden building the size of a small house, with a large garden with neat rows of potatoes and raised beds with salad vegetables and strawberries. At the far end was a swimming pool- a bigger version of a kids's paddling pool. A small dog came out and started barking at me: this continued sporadically for most of my visit. The men were outside supervising a barbecue and the women were in the kitchen preparing food and setting the table.
When everything was ready, we all sat down. There were two soups- a hot fish soup, and a big bowl of salad (cucumber, tomato, ham) that was used to make a cold soup called avracha. You put some of the salad in a bowl, added various flavourings (chilli sauce, pepper, sour cream, etc...) and then poure over it a fizzy, fermented bread drink called kvass. I don't normally like fish soup- too many bones- and this one contained pretty much the whole fish- head and all. Angela took pity on me and gave me a bowl containing the middle bits: it was very good. I tried some of the Avracha too: the salad part was good, but I didn't like the taste of the kvass.
Dima had bought a bottle of vodka in the supermarket, and I had assumed that everybody would be knocking it back in large quantities, but in fact it was very restrained. The men didn't drink at all: the women each had a fairly glass shaped like a boot, and quite a bit larger than the average shot glass. I was presented with a regular glass that was about the same size. Dima filled the glasses, but in the Russian tradition, nobody drank until a toast was proposed. Angela started with a long speech and then gave Dima and Kristine her present, and we all took a slug of vodka. I was very relieved that we weren't expected to empty the glass completely. Dima topped up the glasses, and the process was repeated as each of the women made a speech and produced their present. I was third in the running order, and gave them the cooking implements and the baby the toy elephant. Within seconds, the tail of the elephant was in the baby's mouth.
At one stage, everybody disappeared: it didn't take long to work out that this was a cigarette break, and I went outside to join them. Angela was washing the dishes at a sink outside, despite the light rain: she complained that she had been asking for ages for a roof over the sink, which would have been quite easy, but the men were busy on the adjacent wooden building that would house a shower and sauna.
After the cigarette break, we started on the main meal: barbecued chicken and pork, boiled potatoes, a salad and kimchi. I wondered whether the kimchi was a Russian tradition, but Irina said no, they just buy kimchi because they like it. I like a bit of kimchi to add some flavour to my meal, but the women were really laying into it- at times eating it on its own. As often happens to Englishmen abroad, I was offered a glass of whisky. Fortunately this was a proper Scotch Whisky, not a pale imitation with a sounds-scottish-to-the-locals name. After the fourth toast, the women were getting a bit lively. Because of differences in inflection in Russian, it was sometimes difficult to tell whether they were having a good time or getting angry about something.
There was supposed to be a cake and champagne, but Dima got a call from work (he manages a fleet of salmon fishing boats). He had to go in to work, and as we were counting on a lift home with him, we had to leave the party early.
On the way home, we got our first clear view of the Koriaki and Avacha volcanoes. There was new snow at the top of Koriaki- something unheard of in October. It was still quite early so Dima dropped us off at a supermarket near Irina's house: we did a bit of shoppend and then walked home to a spectacular sunset over Avacha bay.
5th August
Today we were booked on a trip whose highlight was a lake in the mountains. This time, we were in a full-size bus: it was nearly empty when we got on, but we picked up people at various locations along the way. Some people were dressed for a walk in the country, others for a trip to the local park. This could be interesting... I was very pleased when Olga, the daughter of the woman who gave me the bum-seat, got onto the bus. She was on her own this time, and I think that she was quite pleased to see us.
We headed out of town on the main road, then turned off onto a smaller road. I am not sure whether it was undergoing resurfacing work, or whether that was the normal road surface, but every car that we passed kicked up a cloud of dust. The slope was gentle, but we were clearly heading up into the mountains. We stopped next to an old tree. I have seen big trees before, for example the oaks in Sherwood Forest (according to the stories, Robin Hood and his merry men were able to hide inside one). But oaks are a long-lived species: a millenium or two is nothing to them. In the UK, birches usually last for only 30 to 50 years, but in this hostile environment they are a long lived species. This tree was supposed to be 600 years old. This was a toilet break too- men this way along the road, women that way. There was a small lake set in emerald grass on the opposite side of the road: I wanted to go down and take pictures, but was told not to: I later found out that there are bears in this area, and it's best not to go far from the bus.
Eventually we turned on to an even smaller road, and arrived at a security gate. We were about to enter compound containing three lakes with hydro-electric plants, though the security would have been more appropriate to a military installation. The guide got out and took a stamped form and a list of the names of the guests to the guard house: after a few minutes, the guards were satistifed with the paperwork and the barrier was raised.
We weren't actually going to look at these lakes or at the hydroelectric plant but, because people are normally excluded from the area, it contains a lot of 'nature'. We climbed further and reached a plain that was mainly grass and occasional small trees. The guide described it as tundra, but my impression is that tundra is a whole lot more barren and a whole lot more green. This is where we saw our first bears: two cubs, maybe a year or two old. Still pretty big, but not full size, and their fur hadn't darkened yet.
Before long, we started climbing again. After a while, the coach stopped: we got out and started preparing to walk up the hill. It was the same guide as on the previous trip, and I'd obviously made a good impression, because she asked us to go at the back of the group and make sure that nobody got left behind.
We walked over the grass, then onto a a path that threaded through bushes.The guide started blowing a whistle: bear country. My whistle is attached to my rucksack, and I didn't bring it with me for the walk, so I felt a bit exposed at the back. The path started up a slope that got quite steep in places, and rainwater had eroded the path in places: the people dressed for a walk in the park started looking enviously at the people in walking boots. When we reached the top, we were still among bushes and small trees, but in front of us was the caldera of a volcano, full of water. The guide said that nobody knew how deep it was, but it was at least 500 metres. Just before we left, the guide pointed to a tree that, due to the prevailing weather conditions, was growing at an angle. She was able to hang by her arms and legs from the underside of the tree. She set off down the slope and most of the others followed, but some people decided to try the hanging-from-a-tree thing. The guide was not small but some of the hangers were at least twice her weight: I had to support the leaning branch during their attempts. Once everyone was back on the path, I followed up the rear.
The bus carried on for another half-hour and we got out again: this was a much easier walk, and after 50 metres we were looking out over a very large lake. We were not far below the clouds, and a light mist created an eerie atmosphere. There were occasional patches of snow in areas that did not get much sun. We chose a spot next to the lake and started on our picnic lunch: Olga joined us and I proudly showed her that I was using the bum seat that her mother had given to me.
A bit further round the lake, there was a small spit of sand: I decided to walk to it, and asked Irina to take a picture of me when I got there. It wasn't as easy getting there as I had thought: I had to jump across two quite deep streams that were just about the limit of my jumping range. Out on the spit, I waved to Irina, and she waved back when she had taken the pictures.
We were very lucky with the weather: soon after we got back on the bus, the weather closed in and it started to rain. We couldn't see much out of the windows, so the guide put on a video about bears in Alaska. She paused the video when we got a brief sighting of an adult bear, looking very bedraggled, crossing a small river.
On the way home, we stopped at a hot spring. This was more like a normal swimming pool, maybe 25 metres long, seven or eight metres wide and over a metre deep, and there were proper changing rooms and showers. It was open to the weather and it was still raining gently, but it was nice and warm in the water. I enjoyed swimming a few lengths: it's a long time since I have been in water warm enough to swim without a wetsuit. There were several places where the hot water came in, and Irina, Olga and I soon settled in one of the hotspots. Fortunately, Irina didn't suggest getting out to cool down here.
Back on the road, we stopped in Koriaki again, and Olga came back to the bus with a big bag of pierozhki. I asked her whether she was very hungry, and she said that the pierozhki were for her parents as well.
6th August
Irina's apartment faces Avacha bay: today it is calm and you can clearly see the volcano on the other side of the bay. On the other side of the volcano is the Pacific Ocean, and that's where we were going today. After checking the list of essentials for my upcoming trip to Tolbachik, we decided that my walking boots ware not suitable, and also I really needed some waterproof trousers: there was time to visit an outdoor shop before we went to the ocean. We walked up the road and went to the bank, then Andrei picked us up. We went to a shopping centre, where we chose some things to eat, then we went to the outdoor shop. Sooooo many different sorts of boots- and not expensive. I tried on a couple of different pairs, and settled on a very light pair of high-sided waterproof canvas boots. Next, the trousers: the choice was not quite so wide, and all were a bit large on me. The pair I chose had an elastic waist: I hoped they wouldn't fall down while I was walking.
Now that I was fully equipped for my big trip, we set off to the beach. When I was young, we used to get very excited when we went to the seaside- everybody keen to be the first to see the sea. It felt very strange to be driving through trees one minute, and the next we were on sand dunes with the pacific ocean in front of us. We drove through the sand dunes then found a nice spot to lay down our blanket for a picnic. There was a cool breeze blowing- I was wearing my jumper- but Andrei took his shirt off, completely unfazed by the breeze. It was relatively calm for the Pacific: waves about a metre and a half maximum. The previous week there had been a surfing competition: I hope that they got better waves.
After lunch, we walked along the water's edge- heavy, black sand with diamonds sparkling in the sunshine. There were a couple of birds- young oystercatchers, I think- running in and out of the tiny waves. Irina tried to photograph them, but they kept running away. The beach was very clean-practically no litter- but there were a few trees that had been washed ashore. We walked back, and then drove to a small river at the south end of the beach, then on to a couple of steep-sided rocks. The biggest was about 30 metres high- sheer on one side, with a moderately steep path running through the trees. Irina didn't want to climb to the top, and was worried about me going up on my own, so we compromised and I walked half way up. Even at that height, I was just a dot on the picture that she took, and the view over the sand dunes and the sea was spectacular. The smaller rock was not much over ten metres, but was covered in attachments for climbing ropes. I guess it gets a lot of use by a local climbing club.
We set off toward home: after all the fresh air, I was very tired and kept nodding off. When I woke up, there were two volcanoes on the right: I thought they were Koryaki and Avacha, but Irina said that the bigger of them was the one that you can see from her apartment on the other side of Avacha bay. I must have got completely disorientated on the way out: I thought that we were heading north, but in fact we went south of Avacha bay.
After dinner, we looked through my photos and I ended up copying all of them onto Irina's phone. Irina tried to teach me some Russian, but I'm a bit deaf, and I had a lot of trouble repeating what she said. It made me realise how much I had forgotten since I studied Russian last year.
7th August
I managed to wake up early, and did an hour of yoga: my first time since I arrived. Next, I decided to wear my new boots in the apartment, so that I had a bit of time to get used to them (and vice versa) before I had to walk a long way in them. We had planned a boat trip on Avacha bay, but it was cancelled so we decided to go to some hot springs- a bit nearer to PK this time.
Andrei came to pick us up at about 9. We went first to the bread shop, where we bought a different sort of pierozhki and some cake: next, we went to a market to buy some more things for a picnic. This was similar to the fish market saw on the first day, but there were vegetables, fruit, dairy produce, bakery and, of course, fish. We drove out toward the airport- a road that I was getting quite familiar with- and turned north onto the main road. After a while, we turned off and parked outside a building that reminded me of the outdoor swimming pool that we used to visit when we were young, except that the exterior was plastered with advertising for plumbing supplies.
Inside, it was warm and sunny, and the plumbing supplies adverts alternated with pictures of volcanoes. There was one medium size swimming pool, maybe ten metres by five, and about eight small pools which were about three metres by two. The small pools were all at different temperatures, and you could adjust the temperature of your pool by hauling over a big rubber pipe which spurted out very hot water. There was a strong smell of sulphur in the air, and the moment I got into the water, both of my silver bracelets started to turn black. One of them was blackening much faster than the other, and Irina told me that this must be real silver- unlikely, as I bought it in Egypt.
After a few minutes, Irina asked me to follow her: we went out of the main enclosure onto a wooden walkway that led to a very pretty little lake, and Irina told me that I should jump in. She didn't want to, which shoule have warned me what to expect, but another visitor demonstrated the procedure- walk down the steps, take a dive in, swim out a little then turn and come back to the steps. Can't be too difficult, I thought, so I dived in. As soon as I touched the water, it felt like ice crystals were forming on my skin. I turned, but my muscles didnt seem to be working fast enough: it was a big relief when I made it back to the steps. I staggered out, shivering, and practically ran back to the hot pools. When I climbed back into the warm water, my skin told me that the water was cold, and it was a big effort of will to stay in for the minute or so that it took for my senses to re-calibrate.
Once I had warmed up, I tried one of the hotter pools, then lay in the sun for a while. Irina asked me whether I wanted to swim in the lake again: I decided that I could probably cope... maybe after another soak in the medium-temperature pool. The second time in the lake was not so bad, because I knew what to expect, though again I worried that I wouldn't make it back to the steps. The third time felt the same, and I decided that was probably enough sensory overload for one day.
We got dressed and set off to our next destination- an ethnic village. We parked next to a compound where several husky-type dogs were lazing in the weak sun, then headed across a meadow to the main enclosure. We saw a big yurt-type thing and a very ethnic-looking old lady, but a member of staff said that the centre was closed for a special event today, so we went back to the car.
We drove a little further then turned off into an area where there were lots of dachas. We seemed to be lost, so Andrei called for directions. We stopped outside a very quaint old wooden dacha, and Irina introduced me to Ludmila, Dima's grandmother. We gave her the food that we had brought, then she took us for a tour of the garden. It reminded me of the mandatory gardern tour on family visits when I was young: the grown-ups would amble between the rows of flowers, pointing out what's new, what's doing well, what's not: nodding sagely and asking for cuttings or suggesting improvements.
Ludmila's garden was smaller than the one at Irina's dacha, but it was clear that she had put a lot of time into it. Lilies and peonies jostled with asparagus and strawberries, ferns and exotic grasses. The blackcurrant bushes were so heavy with fruit that the branches had to be tied up. As we walked round, there were so many things to look at, taste and smell. Some were familiar and others I have never seen before: dill, hops, valerian- even a couple of olive trees. In a polytunnel were long trusses of cherry tomatoes, big fat salad tomatoes, the kind of knobbly cucumbers that Russians like and a selection of warm-climate herbs. It was hard to reconcile this lush garden with the snow on the ground just a few kilometres away.
On the way back, we stopped off at a statue that's called the gateway to Kamchatka: apparently having your photo taken here is mandatory for visitors. The prime minister was visiting Kamchatka the following week and they were smartening it all up: they were even resurfacing the roads. At least they were doing it properly: in Egypt, when president Sisi visited Hurghada, they only resurfaced the side of the road that the president would be travelling on. Newly painted signs stated that it was 6,700 km to Moscow, 8700 km to London, etc. I later checked and it's roughly the same distance to Bali, although for some reason there was no sign pointing to Bali.
On the way home, we stopped off and bought some pancakes stuffed with meat: Irina warmed them up once we got home. She had also cooked ravioli: yet another person who thinks that I need to put on some weight.
8-11 August
I went on a four-day trip to a Tolbachik volcano: you can read about it here.
12th August
After my expedition to Tolbachik, today was going to be an easy day: a trip to the family dacha. We got up early and had breakfast, then caught a minibus to Elizevo. We did some shopping for food, then caught a bus that threaded its way through the unpaved streets of dacha-land. We got off the bus, and only had a short walk to the dacha. Angela and Andrei were already there: Andrei had been cutting up bits of wood with a chain saw, then he asked me to pass them up to me while he fixed them in position on the roof of the new sauna. Pretty soon we were all eating a second breakfast made with the things that we had bought in Elizevo.
Irina and Angela wanted to make some mushroom soup, so we set off into the nearby wood, looking for mushrooms. The nearest section of wood had a lattice of tiny paths, barely five metres apart, so it was very easy to check everywhere for mushrooms: unfortunately, lots of other people had already passed through and the pickings were slim. After a couple of hundred metres, the terrain became more uneven: there were patches of trees, while the area between was filled with small bushes. We got separated, and Irina and Angela kept in contact by shouting to each other. We started to find more mushrooms: I found a few, but Irina rejected a couple of them because they were poisonous. It became clear that there was a lot of competition between Irina and Angela to find the biggest and best mushrooms. There were also wild berries called Jimolost- a black variant of goji berries- and a small red fruit the size of an alpine strawberry. We set off back to the dacha with red hands and lips, and a big bag of mushrooms.
In the meantime, Dema and Aksana had arrived with more food, and we settled down to a lunch of pastries filled with meat and salmon. It seems that we hadn't collected enough mushrooms, so after lunch we set off in the car to a bigger wood: we didn't go more than a hundred metres from the road, but the wood was quite dense and a lot of the time we couldn't see each other. It was clear that lots of other people had been looking for mushrooms too: the grass was trodden down, and the few remaining mushrooms were not edible
Next, we visited Ludmila again in her beautiful garden. We sat under a cherry tree drinking tea or coffee and eating cakes, meat pies and other goodies. Instant coffee is hightly regarded in Russia, and you can get lots of different sorts, identified by the country of origin and the type of bean. At one stage, there were three different types of coffee on the table. Ludmila brought out a jar of an aromatic jam that she called Greek nuts: it tasted very interesting, so I asked for the recipe. This turned into a show and tell session, as most of the ingredients came from her garden. The main ingredient was rhubarb: there were also orange and tangerine peel, dried apricots, walnuts and prunes. I was expecting some kind of spices to give the distinctive flavour, but apparently it all came from the fruit. She also produced a bottle that was filled with tiny red berries from a tree that looked like a rowan. Before leaving, we had a look for mushrooms in the wood near the Dacha: again, the wood had been fairly well scoured, and the only mushrooms remaining were poisonous ones.
We were due to go out on a boat on Avacha bay the following day: the weather forecast said that the weather would be bad in the afternoon, so the tour company phoned Irina and said that the departure time had moved forward, and we had to be at the jetty by 7:30. We decided that it would be best to get everything ready and then have an early night.
13th August
I am a morning person but there are limits. 6:30 seemed very early to me, and we were running a little late by the time we got to the bus stop. Irina was hoping to get a minibus which would get us there quicker, but there weren't any, so we gave in and took a normal bus. We had to meet somebody by the port gate, but there was nobody there when we arrived: we asked the security guard, and he told us to wait. A few minutes later, a car pulled up and a guy got out. "Natalia?" he asked. Irina said yes, which confused me a little, but I soon realised that the boat was called Natalia.
We stepped onto the boat and into the cabin- it was heated! I love boats, but the one thing I can't deal with is cold, so I was already happy with this boat. It was quite small- probably less than 10 metres long, but when the captain lifted the covers of the engine compartment, there were two six-cylinder Volvo Penta engines. The boats in Egypt are three times the size, and have just one engine. This boat could probably more quite fast if it needed to.
Most of the tourists in Kamchatka are Chinese, but this trip was my first experience of them. I have often seen Chinese tourists in the Philippines and don't have a very high opinion of them, mainly because they travel in large groups and make a lot of noise, but the five chinese people on this trip were definitely not in the same class. There was only one other tourist- a Russian woman.
The crew had a bucket containing some huge crabs: most of the other tourists had their photograph taken with the crabs. I felt sorry for the crabs.
We cast off and headed out into Avacha bay, toward its mouth. There was a buffet breakfast set out: bread, sausage, cheese, salmon and fruit. The other guests didn't seem hungry but I started helping myself. The bay was pretty calm, and we occasionally sighted seals and puffins. There were a few crab fishermen about, but apart from that there was very little boat traffic. At the north side of the mouth, there are three rock pillars, called the three brothers. We sailed close to them, then south. I expected that we would reach the other side and then turn back into the bay, but we headed out onto the Pacific Ocean.
Out on the ocean, the waves picked up, and we were heading straight into the waves. Most of the time, the captain managed to finesse the waves, but there were a few where we crashed down from the top of the wave. The boat could take waves like this in her stride, but Irina is not very used to boats- her knuckles turned white as she gripped the table.
Before long, most of the tourists were lying down, and so I made free with the buffet breakfast. After an hour or so of this rough ride, we passed a small island. We went a little further, then the captain cut the engines. Now that we weren't hammering into the waves, the boat settled down. The captain was looking for some big mammal, and we found one almost straight away: I spotted the spray of water and pretty soon the huge black and white creature curved out of the water and dived down again. A few minutes later, we saw another, but then it went quiet so we headed back to the island.
On the south side of the island there was a long, thin islet that barely came out of the water and a pillar several metres high: both were covered in seabirds, and there were also several seals on the islet. We cruised slowly past, and the seals watched us go by. We moored on the leeward side of the island. The cook had been busy on the way out, and as soon as we had stopped he served some fish soup. I was pretty full after the buffet breakfast, but most of the others had not eaten at all, so they tucked in enthusiastically.
After lunch, we tried our hand at fishing. It wasn't too difficult- dangle a shrimp in the water and pretty soon something will come and take it. I caught three in half an hour: one of them was edible, but the captain threw the others back. I felt sorry for the fish dangling on the hook, and decided that was enough fishing for me.
Now that the boat was moored, the various diving birds- puffins, cormorants etc- came a lot closer to the boat. Sometimes they just floated nearby, occasionally diving down to catch fish, other times they flew past in formation. I was fascinated with the puffins, with their huge orange beaks.
Once everybody had had enough of the fishing, the crew raised the anchor and we set off back to Avacha bay. We were going with the waves this time, so we had a much smoother ride. We stopped just inside the south side of the mouth, near a couple of pinnacles. There were more seals here. The captain filleted the fish that we caught, and the cook coated them with flour and fried them- probably the freshest fish I have ever eaten.
Then the cook started cooking the crabs... I have never been keen on crabs- it all seems so much effort for so little return. Getting food poisoning after eating some in Cambodia put me off them completely. Even if I liked them, I would probably still have been too full. I went upstairs to take in the scenery which the others demolished the huge pile of crabs that the cook had prepared.
Once that was finished, we set off back to the port, getting back at about 4pm. There were a large ethnic statues in the harbour: I couldn't help thinking that one of them looked a lot like Donald Trump.
I wanted to buy some souvenirs of Kamchatka and some things that I can't buy at home, so we decided to walk back rather than taking the bus. The souvenir part was easy: there were several souvenir shops along the road back to the town centre. In the first shop, I bought a fridge magnet and Irina bought me a book about the sea creatures in Kamtchatka. I had seen a very nice t-shirt with a kind of tribal design, but the souvenir shops mostly had 'I love Kamchatka' ones. We also went into the art gallery: the main display was closed, but they did have some 'arty' t-shirts, and I soon found one that I liked.
I wanted to take home something fishy, but I wasn't sure that fresh salmon would survive two days of aeroplanes and airports. Irina suggested buying some vacuum packed smoked salmon. That actually worked quite well, and the fish was still edible when I got home.
The bigger challenge was to find some trainers: the shops in Bali don't have a lot of options for feet as big as mine. We went into a sport store and found some that fitted and were a reasonable price: I also bought some sandals and some track suit trousers. Our shopping completed, we debated catching a bus home, but the weather was nice and so we decided to walk. We passed an ambulance parked on the opposite side of the road, and could see somebody lying in the grass: we were a bit surprised that nobody was tending to the man, and even more surprised when the ambulance drove off. Irina said that sometimes the emergency services left dead people lying around if they were busy, and so we went back to check. I am not sure exactly what we would have done if there was a dead person lying beside the road, but I decided to leave that to Irina. Fortunately, when we got back I noticed that he had moved since we first saw him, so we guessed that he was drunk rather than dead.
It was and excellent day out, and Irina and I spent a long time looking through the photographs.
14th August
Irina had invited her family to a 'farewell party' at her apartment, so as soon as we finished breakfast, Irina started cleaning and I started packing. When everything was spotless, we set off to buy food for the party. It was a good thing that we had done most of the souvenir shopping yesterday, because it drizzled constantly while we were out. The only things that I wanted were some vacuum-packed salmon and some vodka. Both were very easy to find, although choosing a vodka was difficult- the shop that we went to had two complete aisles of it. I was surprised how many things we needed for the party, but I remembered the one at the dacha, where there were lots of different things to try. The final item was a cake, and Irina spent a long time in the cake shop discussing with Angela on the phone which one to buy. In the end, she settled on a compromise- a cake comprising eight pieces taken from four different types of cake.
When we got home, we started preparing the food: Irina put the chicken pieces on a baking tray, covered them with slices of tomato and put them in the oven. Meanwhile, I was busy scraping a huge pile of potatoes. They were nearing the end of the time when you can scrape the skin off easily, and so it seemed to take ages. Irina started preparing other things and putting them out on the table, and before long the table was looking pretty full.
Angela and Andrei were the first to arrive, and Kristine, Dima and baby David arrived soon after. The baby got a lot of attention, and seemed quite happy with it. Irina asked me to show Angela and Kristine my pictures from Tolbachik. I hadn't got around to sorting out the good ones, so we went through the lot. In fact, there weren't so many, because most of the time it was quite cloudy.
We sat down to eat and a bottle of vodka was opened. The table was very crowded with six adults and all the food. There were toasts and presents, and the conversation got quite lively. The plates slowly emptied and we filled up: when the serious eating was finished, most people went onto the balcony for a smoke. When they returned, we served the cake. Two by two, the guests left. Irina and I started clearing up, then went to bed.
15th August
My last day in Kamchatka: I enjoyed the trip a lot more than I expected, and was sorry to leave. Irina had been a wonderful host, arranging things for me to do every day: I think that she enjoyed it too, but two weeks is probably enough. Andrei came to pick me up at 7:30: I said goodbye to Irina, Andrei and Kamchatka at the airport, and set off on the long journey home.