Europa

Day 16: Irkutsk (RUS) – Listvyanka (RUS). “Never mind another country this looks like another planet!”, I said as we both gazed out on the incredible scene before us. Pulling our scarf's around our faces we set off in to the icy wind to walk the couple of miles into the centre of Listvyanka. Completely overwhelmed by our environment, for the most we walked in silence.

Having made enquiries the previous day, we had managed to secure transport to take us the 40 miles from Irkutsk to Listvyanka on the edge of Lake Baikal. Baikal is the oldest and one of the world largest lakes being 400 miles long, 40 miles wide and a mile deep. So vast is this inland freshwater sea that if all the rest of the worlds drinking water dried up tomorrow, Lake Baikal could supply the entire population of the planet for the next 40 years!

However, in the grips of midwinter, the 'Blue Eye of Siberia' was completely encased in ice 10ft deep for as far as the eye could see. On the far shores, beyond the ice sheet, I could just make out the summits of enormous mountains poking out from the cloud cover. The wind howled in from the north and my face burned as it was bombarded with crystals of ice broken off from the lake's freezing mantle. I had never seen anything like this. All I could think of was an old textbook on astronomy that I had as a child. In there was an artists impression of Europa, Jupiter's frozen moon. To me, this was Europa.

As we entered the village itself an old man called from the verandah of one of the wooden cottages by the lake shore, “Privet!, eta Nadia”. Nadia? We had met a Nadia – back in Irkutsk – whilst we were trying to work out how to get to Listvyanka. Nadia had told us of a kind family who would be happy to help us find accommodation. She must have called ahead and said we were coming. Within minutes we were invited into the ageing fisherman's traditional Russian house to meet his family. His wife Tanya made us hot drinks to combat the effect of the biting cold and insisted that we stay with them during our visit to the lake; very quickly we were making ourselves at home in their simple little cottage.

NB I would like to make an official apology to the Russian nation. Prior to the start of our adventure I had made a number of jibes about Russian food and its reliance on the potato. I would now like to formally quash that rumour. Tonight Karen and I had a very cheap but traditional meal of Omul; an indigenous fish to Lake Baikal and I can honestly say it is one of the best meals I have ever tasted. I hope the Russian people can find it in their hearts to forgive me.