IRKUTSK-ALMATY

The journey from Irkutsk to Almaty was a 79-hour epic.

For starters we were in separate compartments, having booked rather late – however this merely served to enlarge our social circle, as I shared my compartment with three young Russians, while Magda had a shifting population; this included two friendly Russian ladies, one of whom was acompanied by her granddaughter. Four-year old Miliana was star of the show, becoming friends with the entire carriage and always popping in and out of the various compartments, carrying her books and other entertainments.


I struggled to communicate in Russian, but Slava in my compartment spoke quite good English, which let me off the hook… He was travelling with his wife Julia and sister Veronica to see various grandparents, since although they were Russian (Julia additionally of part German descent) their parents had grown up in Kazakhstan, and moved to Irkutsk as adults.

Leaving Irkutsk after midnight, we awoke to find ourselves rattling through the Siberian birch forests with occasional villages of wooden huts with potato patches. From time to time we passed through larger cities with their quota of industry.

On the second morning we drew up in Novosibirsk, where our carriage was disconnected and left in a siding for 6 hours, to be connected to a train bound for Almaty while our original train headed on to Moscow. We went ‘ashore’ to see the city. The little settlement which grew up around the railway bridge over the Ob in the 1890’s was named Novo-Nikolaevsk in honour of tsar Nicholas II and is now Siberia’s largest city. Its name was changed in 1925.

The centre is quite small and we walked round… We visited the Alexander Nevsky cathedral where a service was in process, with a five-voice choir which sang beautifully, aided by the wonderful accoustics; when we entered they were singing responses but afterwards performed what appeared to be an anthem.

There is a tiny chapel to St Nicholas in the middle of the main street, built in 1915 to mark the geographical centre of Russia. It looks a bit lost among the traffic. In Lenin square there is an opera house larger than Moscow’s Bolshoi, but it was closed. Before it stands a statue of Lenin, flanked by various representatives of soviet realist sculpture.

We visited the cathedral of the Ascension – I think the largest church interior we have seen so far – then wandered back to the station, stopping for a cup of kvas in the sunshine on the way. This mildly alcholic drink is made (often home-made) by fermenting black bread with sugar, and has a slightly grainy flavour – sweet, but with an acid tang. It is sold in the streets from tank-carts and also used for cooking.

Customs formalities to enter Kazakhstan occurred, predictably, in the middle of the night, and by dawn we were running south up the Ob valley to Semey, where Julia’s grandmother visited the train, bringing fresh milk and raspberries from her dacha. Then we started to climb up to the steppe, which rises to over 1,000 metres. Almaty at 850 is only a little lower. At every stop the platform was alive with a multiracial, multi-coloured, ‘multi-culti’ throng of vendors, selling everything from local beer to home-smoked fish, through Coca cola, and a variety of bread and pastries.



That evening provided a magical moment when we stopped for twenty minutes at sunset to wait for a northbound train to pass. As the sky turned from orange to purple over the distant blue line of Lake Balkhash, the warm silence was filled with the chirping of cicadas. Miliana was asleep.

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El viaje desde Irkutsk a Almaty era una odisea de 79 horas.

Para empezar, estabamos en distintos compartimientos, ya que reservamos tarde – sin embargo este hecho aumento nuestro circulo socia: yo compartia con tres jovenes Rusos, mientras a la Magda le toco una poblacion cambiante, entre otros dos senoras mayores. Una andaba con su nieta de 4 anos, Miliana, quien era la estrella del vagon…

Trate de hablar en ruso, pero Slava, el joven de mi compartimiento, hablaba ingles – que alivio… El viajaba con su hermana Veronica y su esposa Julia para visitar a varios abuelos – aunque los chicos eran rusos, sus padres habian nacido en Kazakhstan.

Dejamos Irkutsk despues de medianoche, y despertamos entre los bosques siberianos, salpicados de pueblitos con casas de madera y plantaciones de papas. Habian unas pocas ciudades mayores industriales.

La segunda manana llegamos a Novosibirsk, donde desconectaron nuestro vagon y lo dejaron 6 horas esperando el tren para Almaty. Con Magda salimos a conocer la ciudad. El pueblito que se formo alrededor del puente ferrovial sobre el rio Ob en el decada de los 1890 recibio el nombre de Novo-Nikolaevsk, en honor al tsar Nicholas II, y es ahora la ciudad mas grande de Siberia. Cambio de nombre en 1925.

El centro es chico y lo recorrimos a pie… Fuimos a la catedral Alexander Nevsky donde se celebraba una misa, acompanada por un coro a 5 voces. Con la maravillosa acustica, sonaba hermosisimo.

En el centro de la calle principal esta la pequena capilla de San Nicolas, construido en 1915 para marcar el centro geografico de Rusia. Se ve un poco perdida entre los autos. En la Plaza Lenin existe una opera mas grande que el Bolshoi de Moscu… La plaza contiene su estatua de Lenin, con otros representantes del realismo sovietico.

Visitamos la catedral de la Ascension – creo que es el interior de iglesia mas grande que hemos visto hasta ahora – luego volvimos a la estacion. Paramos en el camino para tomar una copa de kvas. Es una bebida con bajo grado alcholico que se prepara (a menudo en casa) fermentando pan negro con azucar; tiene sabor a grano, dulce pero con un toque acido. Se vende en la calle, en carretas con estanque; tambien se ocupa en la cocina.

Pasamos por la frontera a Kazakhstan en la madrugada – por supuesto! Al amanecer subiamos hacia el sur por el valle del Ob hasta Semey. Aqui llego la abuela de Julia, llevando leche y frambuesas frescas de su dacha. Luego empezamos a subir a la estepa, la cual llega a mas de 1.000 metros. Almaty esta a 850. En cada parada la estacion se llenaba de vendedores – una masa multiracial, multi-colora, ‘multi-culti’, que vendia todo desde la cerveza hasta el pescado ahumado, pasando por Coca cola y una variedad de panes y empanadas.

En la tarde se produjo un momento magico cuando paramos por 20 minutos, esperando que pasara un tren desde el sur. El color del cielo se transformaba de naranjo en morado, sobre la linea azul del lago Balkhash, mientras el silencio tibio se llenaba del canto de los grillos. Miliana dormia.

ROUND IRKUTSK

From Irkutsk we took a bus out to Arshan in the Tunka Valley. It is an old spa dating back to Imperial days, with thermal waters for drinking and bathing. Rather run down, but as we arrived on Russia Day (June 12th), commemorating the new constitution of 1990 (I think), it was absolutely packed! Despite being the busiest day of the year, the baths were closed! But there were hundreds filling bottles with the water to take home. Magda managed to have a bath the next day – 10 minutes for 80 roubles! – and found it was not really a bath but an all-round shower, such as I have seen in Victorian bathrooms in country houses in Britain!

We stayed in what we called our dacha but was a fairly basic single room with out-house. However the room was clean and it was a roof for the night…


We had a couple of walks up the first ridge of the Sayan mountains on the north side of the valley, from where we looked across to the Mongolian border. The wild flowers in the forest were lovely and varied, lots of columbines, wild azaleas and various species of renunculus, and higher up I found gentians.


Followed our trip to Lake Baikal, the deepest lake in the world (1,670m), containing 20% of the planet’s fresh water, where we stayed in Listvianka, the easiest place to get to. Our Ukranian-born hostess at the little guest-house was rather grumpy, but produced a delicious supper of the local trout-like omul,
and fired up the “Russian bath” (sauna) for us. There was a pretty church in the village

and a little theatre where a man singing to a guitar was finishing a concert. We listened through the doors for a while but were not allowed in… There was even a bus provided to transport the audience.


Despite fearful warnings of disease-bearing ticks we braved a walk along the lakeside for three hours each way on a beautiful morning. The lake was looking spectacular in the sunlight…. There were a number of boats running up and down, and we saw geese, mergansers, ducks and gulls.

For the trip back to Irkutsk we took the hydrofoil down the Angara river from the lake to the hydro-electric dam on the edge of the city. Definitely the way to travel!

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Desde Irkutsk tomamos un bus hasta Arshan en el Valle del Tunka. Es un spa de la epoca Imperial, con aguas minerales para y tomar y para banarse. Estaba un poco decaido, pero llegamos el 12 de Junio, la fiesta nacional que conmemora la nueva constitucion de 1990 (?), y estaba llenisimo! A pesar de ser el dia mas movido del ano, los banos estaban cerrados! Pero centenares de visitantes llenaban botellas con agua para llevar. Magda se bano el otro dia en una ducha donde el agua viene de todos lados – 10 minutos por 80 rublos!

Nuestra pieza estaba bastante basico con ‘bano’ en el jardin, pero estaba limpia…

Caminamos en la Sierra de Sayan por el lado norte del valle, con vista al sur hacia la frontera con Mongolia. Las flores silvestres eran bellisimas.

Despues de eso fuimos al Lago Baikal, el lago mas profundo del mundo (1.670m) con un 20% del agua dulce del planeta. Alojamos en Listvianka, de acceso facil en bus. La duena de casa estaba un poco mal genio, pero preparo una comida rica del pescado local, omul, y prendio el sauna… En el pueblo vimos una pequena iglesia, y un teatro donde un artista folclorico estaba cantando con guitarra. Estaba a punto de terminar el concierto asi que no nos dejaron pasar, pero escuchamos un ratito por la puerta. Hasta habia una micro para el publico…

A pesar de los avisos sobre el riesgo de garrapatas, portadoras de encephalitis, caminamos por el borde del lago durante una manana entera – precioso…

Volvimos a Irkutsk por el rio Angara en ‘hydrofoil’. La mejor manera de viajar!

IRKUTSK

We arrived in the splendid 19th century railway station at Irkutsk, the principal city of eastern Siberia, at 8 a.m. and hopped on a tram to find the Irkutsk Downtown Hostel. Friendly if a bit cramped…

After investigating the trains for our next leg, we went out to explore. The city is full of old wooden houses, again many in disrepair – but then, so is much of the more recent soviet era housing! The churches on the other hand are all beautifully looked after. The cathedral is being refurbished and an artist was working, like Michaelangelo in the Sistine chapel, painting the walls and ceilings with traditional icon-style figures. I say the cathedral; it is really a large, relatively new church (19th C?) which has been raised to the dignity of cathedral. We went to an older church nearby and saw a model of central Irkutsk as it used to be, with a large and magnificent cathedral at the head of the square. There was also a colour air photo, which must have been taken around 1970 to judge by the cars, of the old cathedral. On the site now is the District Administration building – see picture. The little dome in front is all that remains…

The churches still surprise us, firstly by their size and shape. They are relatively small compared to Anglican or RC churches; then there are no chairs since everyone stands throughout the service (we have witnessed a couple), which means less room is needed. But most striking is that they are much wider than long, usually only one ‘aisle’, although occasionally two. The east end is a wall covered in icons (the iconostasis) with a door leading through to the altar placed in the apse, which is only opened during services. Many of the beautiful images, candle-sticks and other trappings are obviously old and one wonders how they survived 70 years of state atheism – and also how much was lost.

We found a historical museum in an unusual 18th C Arab-style brick building. Irkutsk started as a fur-trading fort in the 1660’s, and the parallel with Victoria, Vancouver, 200 years later was remarkable! Unfortunately the Decembrist museum was closed for repairs (look up the Decembrists on the net if you want to know more!) Upstairs was a section on military history with lots on the World Wars and the Revolution. 20,000,000 Russians died in WW II – 1,000,000 in the Defence of Stalingrad alone.

Magda thoroughly enjoyed visiting the colourful market with its mixture of faces from different races and marked by their lives, especially those over 40 whose lives have been hard. There are a lot of young people drinking (or drunk) in the streets – the beer flows like water, partly as a result of the policy to get people to drink beer rather than vodka! The influence of western consumerism is evident especially in the children. There are all kinds of cars and public transport from bicycles to “SUVs”.
The splendid 'White House' of 1804. The sign says it was used by the soviets in 1917 when organising the new state, but does not mention that it was originally the governor's palace in imperial times!
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Llegamos a la esplendida estacion de ferrolcarriles (siglo 19) de Irkutsk , ciudad principal de la Siberia oriental, a las 0800, y tomamos un tram al hostal: Irkutsk Downtown Hostel. Acogedor, si bien un poco apretado …

Despues de investigar los trenes para la proxima pata del viaje, salimos a explorar. La ciudad esta llena de antiguas casas de madera, tambien muchas cayendose – al igual de algunas casas mas modernas! Las iglesias, por otro lado, estan muy bien cuidadas. Estan reparando la cathedral – vimos a un pintor trabajando, parecia Michaelangelo en la Capilla Sistina. Digo catedral; es una iglesia grande del siglo 19 (?) a la cual le han subido de grado. Visitamos otra iglesia antigua y encontramos una maqueta del centro de Irkutsk tal como estaba, con una cathedral grande y magnifico en la punta de la plaza. Habia ademas una foto aerea en color, supongo de alrededor de 1970, de la cathedral antigua. El sitio ahora esta ocupado por el edificio de la Administracion del Distrito – ver foto. La pequena cupola es todo lo que queda …

Nos sorprenden todavia las iglesias, por su tamano y su forma. Son relativamente chicas y no hay sillas, ya que uno queda de pie durante el oficio. Pero lo mas raro es que son mas anchas que largas. Sobre la pared oriental se exponen los iconos (el iconostasis), y el altar se encuentra en el apsdide detras de una puerta, la cual se abre solo para el oficio.

Encontramos un museo historico en un edificio descomunal de estilo arabe, del siglo 18. Irkutsk empezo en los 1660 como fuerte para el comercio de las pieles – igual a Victoria, Vancouver, 200 anos mas tarde! Desafortunadamente, el museo Decembrista estaba cerrado.

Magda disfruto del Mercado lleno de colores y de una mezcla de razas, las caras marcadas por la vida, en especial la gente de los 40 por arriba. Muchos jovenes tomando (y borrachos) en la calle – la cerveza corre como el agua, ya que han prohibido el consumo de vodka en publico! La influencia occidental/consumista evidente sobre todo en los ninos. Autos y transporte publico de todosn los tipos desde las bicicletas hasta los 4x4 modernos.

ULAN UDE

We took the train across China and entered Mongolia, changing wheels at the border! A remarkable operation with the whole train jacked up. We woke in the Gobi Desert – dry! After a stop in Ulan Baator, we travelled on through gentler, greener countryside.

After three hours of border formalities in the evening we fell asleep in Russia, arriving in Ulan Ude the next morning. UU is the capital of Buryatia – the Buryats are a northern Mongolian tribe so the culture (and many of the faces) are still oriental.

The town is fairly provincial in tone, with lots of old wooden houses, mainly in poor repair.

However a magnificent opera house is being refurbished and the main square boasts the largest head of Lenin in the world. (Magda is there for scale, if you can find her!)

Two contrasts with China struck us immediately – the respect shown for pedestrians, even by taxi drivers! And the consumption of alcohol in public, frequently when walking down the street.

Religion was never very far under the skin during the soviet years and is now back with a vengeance. Many devout worshippers fill the churches or attend the Buddhist ‘datsan’,
and traditional Shamanic animism is also present. One young man we talked to claimed to be a mixture of shamanist and Buddhist – I suppose they are compatible… We visited a beautiful little cathedral – our first Russian Orthodox church (of many).


We went out to an ‘Ethnographical Museum’ containing original wooden houses from different cultural streams: the eastern (largely nomadic) Buryats lived in felt yurts (Mongolian style)
while their more settled western cousins built wooden ones.

The ‘old believers’ are traditionalist Russian Orthodox Christians. There was also an influx of Cossacks who came as guards and brought their customs. Two exhibitions dealt with indigenous Russian groups, the Evenks and the Soyots. Their culture evidences a common origin with North American Indians (Tepees and totem poles) and most amazingly with the Mapuches of southern Chile, we saw a ritual drum very similar to the Mapuche ‘kultrun’ and bearing an identical design!


Tomamos el tren a traves de China y entramos en Mongolia, con cambio de ruedas en la frontera - el tren entero levantado en gatas ! Pasamos por el desierto Gobi– sequisimo! Despues de una parada en Ulan Baator, seguimos por un valle tranquillo y verde.

Despues de cruzar la frontera (3 horas), estabamos en Rusia, y llegamos en la manana a Ulan Ude. Esta es la capital de Buryatia – los Buryats son una tribu Mongol, asi que la the cultura (y muchas de las caras) siguen siendo orientales.

Es una ciudad provincial, con muchas casas antiguas de madera, generalmente mal cuidadas. Una magnifica opera esta en reparaciones, y la plaza principal contiene la cabeza mas grande de Lenin en el mundo. (Magda esta en la foto para indicar la escala) Nos llamo la atencion el contraste con China - dos aspectos en especial: el respecto de los choferes, incluso de micro, hacia los peatones; y el consumo de alcohol en publico.

La religion estaba siempre presente durante la epoca sovietica, ahora afloro. Hay muchos feligreses en las iglesias cristianas y los templos Budistas, y el animismo tradicional tambien esta presente. Un joven con quien conversamos afirmo ser ‘una mezcla de shamanista y Budista – supongo que no hay conflicto … Conocimos una hermosa pequena catedral – nuestra primera iglesia rusa ortodoxa (de muchas).

Fuimos a un museo ethnografico con casas originales de madera de las distintas culturas locales: los Buryats orientales (nomads) viven en ‘yurts’ de fieltro (estilo Mongoliano) mientras sus primos occidentales los construyen de madera. Existe un grupo de cristianos ortodoxos mas o menos fundamentalista, conocidos como ‘old believers’. Tambien llego la influencia cosaca. Dos exposiciones tratan de grupos etnicos rusos originarios, los Evenk y los Soyot. Su cultura demuestra un origen comun con los indios norte-americanos (Tepees y totems) – lo mas sorprendente era un tambor ritual identico al ‘kultrun’ Mapuche y que llevaba el mismo diseno!

THE GREAT WALL

The Great Wall deserves a page to itself, although there is not much new to say about it! We went to do a 3 km, 3 hr hike from Jingshanling to Simatai (spelling?).
With all the ups and downs you need the time. The most prominent feature of the day was the weather - it hardly stopped raining! But that produced one good photo...


Another event of interest was a visit to the Chinese opera. They had subtitles so we could understand what was happening, and we saw two short works totalling just over an hour, so most enjoyable. Rather different from the 3 hour marathon when I last went in Hong Kong and understood nothing... The acting and acrobatics are almost as important as the singing, and there was a scene when the heroine was bouncing spears back with her arms and feet which astonished us. No photos I am afraid.

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La Gran Muralla merece una pagina sola, aunque no hay mucho nuevo por decir! Fuimos a hacer una caminata de 3 km, que duro 3 horas, desde Jingshanling a Simatai (ortografia aprox...). Donde no hay subida, hay bajada. El aspecto mas destacado del dia era el clima - apenas dejo de llover!

Otro evento interesante era una visita a la opera china. Tenia sub-titulos, asi que podiamos entender; vimos dos obras cortas, en total poco mas de una hora, asi que lo disfrutamos... La actuacion y los acrobaticos tenian tanta importancia como el canto, en una escena de batalla la heroina estaba devolviendo lanzas con los pies y lops brazos en forma sorprendente. Lamentablemente no tengo fotos

BEIJING

The most immediate impression of Beijing is one of vastness. The city extends apparently without limit across the flat landscape, this week under a lowering blanket of smog. The scale is set by the paved field of Tiananmen square, 800 by 500 metres, where we began our visit on our first day. We had our photo taken with some Chinese visitors... In the centre stands a massive square column – the Monument to the People’s Heroes. To the south is the mausoleum where the body if Mao lies in pickled state, to the west the enormous People’s Congress (unoccupied for much of the year). Most imposing of all, behind the massive, dark red Tiananmen gate to the north, are the 9,999 rooms of the Forbidden City – the imperial palace of the Ming and Qing emperors between 1420 and 1911.

There are other vast public spaces. The Tianan (Temple of Heaven) stands in a park full of ancient, gnarled cypress and juniper trees, some 2 square kilometres in extent. Here the Emperor would come each year to pray for abundant harvests.
We came across a duet playing a Chinese lute and a sort of glorified mouth organ under one arch of a gate, while not far away another man sang melancholy Portuguese airs to a guitar.

The elaborate summer palace of the colourful 19th century empress Cixi stands at the end of an artificial lake over a mile long (we walked round it!). It was built with funds appropriated from the naval ship-building programme, and by an irony the park contained a naval academy (presumably they trained on the lake!), which was closed down after the poor performance of the navy against the Japanese.


We travelled to the summer palace by dragon boat, which leaves from the huge soviet-style Exhibition Centre. With 20 minutes to wait we ordered a cup of tea – out of a sense of duty, as beer was less than half the price! We selected ‘peony ballad’ from the menu, and when it came (in a glass, with a second glass to pour it into through a strainer) it was quite colourless and almost tasteless. Our dragon boat meandered up the canals, past the zoo, with two trans-shipments, and we were amazed to see several men swimming – apparently for exercise – in the murky waters.

The wide main streets stretch for miles. Whole blocks contain a multitude of businesses selling identical or similar products, and there are acres of dereliction where the old hutongs (alleyways, read: slums) are being knocked down for development. Some of these blocks are already lined along the road fronts with new office or residential buildings, while within the ground resembles the aftermath of an air raid.
The whole city is in a fever of excitement and activity to get everything ready – and looking its best – for the Beijing Olympics in 2008. Mature trees are being transplanted wholesale to major streets, and a taxi-driver proudly showed us the work in progress of the Olympic village.

And scurrying through the streets and parks about their pleasure or business are the 12,000,000 official residents of the city – and perhaps a quarter or half as many again who are not registered. We have been ‘joined’ on our walks by a number of young people anxious to practice their English. But the majority of those with whom we have practical contact speak no more English than we do Chinese, so sign language and smiles are the common currency of our communication and misunderstandings are frequent. We entered a pharmacy to ask for directions to find a foot-massage and almost bought corn-dressings! When we finally got to the foot-massage (strongly recommended for weary feet) Magda, who had been once before so was an expert, was adept in negotiating the price and waving away the ‘extras’.

All thanks to our charming hosts Archie and Mary, who made our stay very easy and agreeable and solved a series of knotty problems, as well as taking us to a reeling party!

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La primera impresion de Beijing es su vasto tamano. La ciudad se extiende, sin termino aparente, a traves del un paisaje plano, bajo una capa de smog peor que la de Santiago en Marzo. La escala ya esta defininida por la plaza de Tiananmen, 800 por 500 metros, donde empezamos a conocer Beijing. En el centro se levanta la columna cuadrada del Monumento a los Heroes del Pueblo. Al sur se encuentra el mausoleo que contiene el cuerpo preservado de Mao, al oeste el enorme Congreso del Pueblo. Lo mas imponente es la Ciudad Prohibida, protegido por el masivo porton de Tiananmen, con sus 9.999 habitaciones – el palacio imperial de los emperadores Ming y Qing entre 1420 y 1911.

Existen otros espacios publicos enormes: el Tianan (Templo del Cielo) se levanta en un parque, lleno de arboles antiguos, de unos 2 kilometros cuadrados. Aqui llegaba el emperador todos los anos para orar por una buena cosecha.

El Palacio de Verano de la emperatriz Cixi (una figura del siglo 19) se encuentra al borde de un lago artificial enorme (dimos la vuelta a pie!). Se construyo con dineros recolectados para un programa de construccion de naves para la armada. Ironicamente hubo una academia naval en el parque – supongo que entrenaban en el lago – el cual fue cerrado despues del fracaso de la armada frente a los Japoneses.

Viajamos al Palacio de Verano en bote, pasand por los canales donde habia gente nadando en el agua sucia – aparentemente tomando ejercicio.

Las anchas calles principales son muy largas, con cuadras enteras dedicadas al mismo negocio, y varias hectareas de destruccion donde estan anivelando los antiguos barrios pobres para su ‘desarrollo’. Todos se estan preparando para los Juegos Olimpicos del 2008.

Y entre medio corren los 12,000,000 de residentes oficiales de la ciudad, mas otra cantidad desconocida de no registrados. Cuando caminamos por la calle, es normal que se acerque un joven anxioso por practicar su ingles. Pero la gran mayoria no habla mas ingles que nosotros chino, entonces nos entendemos a traves de sonrisas y gestos. Entramos a una farmacia para pedir direccions a un boliche donde realizan masajes de los pies (recomendados para los pies cansados), y casi tuvimos que comprar unos remedios para zaballones! Llegados al negocio, Magda, quien ya lo habia hecho una vez, se demonstro experta en negociar el precio y evitar las ‘extras’.

VANCOUVER ISLAND

The island is named for Capt. George Vancouver, who surveyed and charted the whole of this part of the coast over three summers in the late 18th century. He has 2 cities and an island named after him, an achievement seldom equalled by a "mere commoner". However he blew his career in the navy when he had midshipman Thomas Pitt - a young cousin of the Prime Minister - flogged twice while under his command! Probably richly deserved...

We went by bus a few miles along the south coast to the liitle town of Sooke for a couple of days. One morning we hired a canoe and paddled round the bay, which was most enjoyable, accompanied by seals, glaucous-winged gulls and Canada geese. Then we took two walks along a trail which follows a railway line: in 1864 gold was discovered up the Sooke river valley and a mini rush occurred. A mining town named Leechtown boomed for a few years and the line was built to serve it, with a gas-powered train drawing a couple of carriages and rejoicing in the name of the "Galloping Goose"! The trail still retains the name.


We returned to Victoria for a night where we enjoyed a walking tour guided by Ian, from Bradford(!) who has lived there for 17 years. The town of Vancouver grew from a trading fort (1848) to the capital city of the new province of British COlumbia, with splendid civic buildings, in a mere 50 years, driven by Sir James Douglas of the Hudson's Bay Company; many of the splendid buildings, including the Legislature (1898) and the Empress Hotel (1908) were designed by an architect hailing from Bradford, no less, Morson Rattenbury.

We returned to Vancouver for the ten hour flight, with a 9 hour time-change, to Beijing, over Alaska and Siberia. Fantastic...



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La isla lleva el nombre de Capt. George Vancouver, quien hizo mapas de la costa a fines del siglo 18. Dos ciudades y una isla llevan su nombre - excepcional por un mero capitan.

Viajamos en bus unos km por la costa sur de la isla al pueblo de Sooke por un par de dias. Una manana arrendamos un kayak para dar la vuelta de la bahia. Fuimos a caminar dos veces en un camino que habia sido un ferrocarril: en 1864 se encontro oro en el valle, provocando una fiebre de corta duracion. Una ciudad de mineria, Leechtown, florecio por algunos anos y se construyo la linea, con un tren a gas de dos vagones, nombrado "Galloping Goose"! - el "ganso que galopa".

Volvimos a Victoria para una noche donde disfrutamos un tur de la ciudad con un guia ingles, quien vive alla hace 17 anos. La ciudad se fundo como fuerte para el comercio(1848) y dentro de 50 anos se habia convertido en la capital de la nueva provincia de British COlumbia, con esplendidos edificios civicos, bajo el mando de Sir James Douglas de la "Hudson's Bay Company"; muchos de los edificios, incluyendo el parlamento provincial(1898) y el hotel Empress (1908) fueron disenados por un arquitecto ingles, Morson Rattenbury.

Volvimos a Vancouver para el vuelo a China, diez horas con cambio de 9 horas, volando sobre Alaska y Siberia. Fantastico...