expect it.
Once again though, the unbeliev-
able hospitality of the Russian people
was in full force as my new friends
insisted I take what I needed for the
weekend, pack it on their bikes and
ride pillion with Igor. I accepted and
whilst it was unnerving to be a pas-
senger when I had ridden so far under
my own steam, I was in very capable
hands.
Leaving Irkutsk, the sun was shin-
ing as we began to wind our way
across small mountains and through a
very different landscape of green and
gold tundra grasslands. Wild horses
grazing in the fields and cows wan-
dering casually across the road, it was
without doubt the most beautiful few
hours on the road of all Russia.
Arriving at the lake, a magical place
that has to be seen to be believed, we
crossed the water by car ferry onto
Olkhorn Island. With zero paved
roads on the island, we were imme-
diately met with a sandy, rutted road
that would last for 40km’s before we
made our hotel. Sitting up high on
the BMW, it was a hair-raising ride as
we rode incredibly fast across the slip-
pery track, Igor having the situation
well in hand.
Lake Biakal is a very significant
place. It holds a staggering 20% of all
TRAVERSE 31
the world’s fresh water and is home
to more than 700 totally unique aqua
species. It is so vast it looks as though
it is an ocean and with sandy shores it
serves the purpose as a beachside hol-
iday location for neighbouring China.
At 10 degrees Celsius though I am not
sure it is the place for a swim.
The following day we set off on a
rickety boat to sail the length of the is-
land. Taking more than four hours in
the drizzling rain, it was still an amaz-
ing experience, only seeing a tiny por-
tion of this monstrous lake was mind
boggling. The only way back to the
main part of the island is via on the lo-
cal vans, known as bukhankas.