Day 8: Irkutsk to Olkhon

Day 8:  Irkutsk to Olkhon

I decided my priority of the day was to find a bank and get smaller change for the apparently  atrociously large bills I was given at the bank the first time.  I have a few "hundreds" and a few "twenties."  Now you'd think it would be fine to give an establishment a twenty and get change.  Wrong.  I keep trying to use a twenty and the people behind the counter freak out.  Nyet!!  They act like they are offended by such a large bill.  I'm baffled by this.

Later I went into what looked like a bakery and I attempted to buy a pastry.  "Nyet!!"  Not sure why on that one, I just awkwardly left the bakery.

I went to an art museum in town at the suggestion of my Ithaca art major friend who said I must see Russian art.  Well, this place was great, but its finest feature in my opinion was the room dedicated to cat art.  Portraits where the head, instead of a famous general or an aristocratic woman, is replaced with a cat.  This, on top of the sign I saw of some sort of weird cat theatre performance, makes me think Russia has some weird obsession with cats.  Their cats videos on YouTube must put ours to shame.

Later on, I had to find my way to Olkhon.  I had read that I could take a bus from the central bus station so I went up to the ticket counter and said "Olkhon" to which I received another "Nyet!!"  So, I started to consider my options, because I knew I had to get to Olkhon, that was the plan and I don't love straying from a plan once I get it in my head.  I went to the nearest hostel and asked if they knew a way to Olkhon.  I'll bet you can guess the answer...."Nyet!!"

It was cold so I went back to the bus station just so I could stand somewhere warm and think about what to do.  Then I had my eureka moment.  There is a tourists office in Irkutsk. That's where I decided to go.  

"Da!!"  They set up the "private" bus to get me to Olkhon.  Success.  In the few hours I had to kill, I checked out the Volkonsky museum.  The Russian women at the museum, probably because I seem so disheveled with my heavy backpack, took sympathy on me.  They followed me around and handed me the English descriptions for each room and told me to sit down while reading each one.  Then they helped me get my backpack back on.  It was very cute.

I hopped on the packed 6 hour long private bus to Olkhon.  Being the last one to be picked up, I had to sit in the back.  It was an absolute struggle, with my backpack, to squeeze past people to get there.  I'm pretty sure I hit a woman in the face with my water bottle.

Not 30 minutes into the trip we hit trouble.  A tire needed to be replaced on the van.  We all got out and watched in the cold as the tire was dismounted and a new one was mounted.  Back in we went.

As we finally arrived at the ferry station, all set to get out and onto the ferry, another problem struck.  A woman, or the driver, the question still remains, lost one of her bags.  This resulted in a 30 minute long screaming match between the two of them.  However, in this time, I found some other fellow, English speaking travelers.  A kiwi named Anna and a girl and her father.  Guess where the girl and her father are from?  Connecticut, Hartford county.  <--- Danny, it's my small world story.

We got on the ferry and then onto the next bus that would bring us to our hostel.  Craziest bus I've ever been on IN MY LIFE.  Imagine the bumpiest road you can think of plus a driver going 80 mph.  I literally was in the air half of the ride.  There was a point where I swear the back of the bus must have flown at least 5-10 feet off the ground. Anna goes, "ahh it reminds me of home in New Zealand."

New Zealand has now become a questionable country to me.