“Oh, this place is sacred to the Buryats; they are of Mongolian type,” said Ivor, eyeing me carefully to see if “Mongolian type” was another of the terms that might set me off. Some visitors—of Russian type—arrived at the overlook. There were a dozen of them in three cars. They were young and dressed for a ball, although it was 11 in the morning. They took dramatic and gurgling drinks of vodka and champagne, threw their bottles at the big rock, got back in, and drove away at high speed. One of the car roofs was decorated with a pair of pizza-size gold-foil rings. “A wedding,” explained Ivor. “When people here are getting married, they drive around the countryside very fast and have drinks.” Which is also what they do when they aren’t getting married. We were doing it ourselves. We drove to Lake Baikal, very fast, and had drinks. An impressive chaser is Baikal—395 miles long and 50 miles across at its widest point. Eighty percent of Russia’s freshwater is here, and 20 percent of the world’s—more than the Great Lakes put together. Baikal’s water is famously pure and so clear that you can look all the way down to . . . nothing, because the water is almost a mile deep. Cows were sleeping on the highway by the shore. “There’s not much to do in Siberia,” said Ivor. “But it’s beautiful,” I said. “Mmm,” said Ivor. A spectacular and almost empty locale like Baikal should maybe be kept as some kind of public property—a park or nature preserve. And yet, the capitalist in me agreed with Ivor. Looking out at the smooth, vacant waters of a lake bigger than Belgium and almost as dull, I kept having visions of Hobie Cats, cabin cruisers, float boats, outboards, and Jet Skis. I went down to the stony beach and put a toe in the water. Yow! Christ! Brr! The place should be a nature preserve. We drove up a hill to the Baikal Hotel, which has one of the world’s spectacular views, and its restaurant and bar are in the basement. At lunch I talked to some other Intourist clients, four Russians on a day trip from Irkutsk. They had a lot of questions. What was my opinion of the current intrigue in the Duma? What were my thoughts on local government reform? What did I believe was Russia’s proper geopolitical posture? These were beyond me. But I guess when your nearest world capital is Ulan Bator, any wandering
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