Siberia’s Blue Eye – Lake Baikal
A ray of evening sunlight spills down, and it becomes an incredibly dazzling gold.
A touch of morning blue light shines through, and it turns into an exquisitely pure blue ice.
A ray of evening sunlight spills down, and it becomes an incredibly dazzling gold.
A touch of morning blue light shines through, and it turns into an exquisitely pure blue ice.
Is this a fairy tale or a dream? It is Siberia’s blue eye – Lake Baikal !
Lake Baikal is a sacred sea located in the Irkutsk region of Siberia. In fact, it is a natural freshwater lake, the deepest lake in the world, the oldest lake in the world, and also one of the clearest lakes in the world.
For lakes, Tibet’s Namtso was once the lake I was most attached to, and it has been one of my favorite places in the eight years since I started backpacking. After cycling along the Sichuan-Tibet route, I arrived at Namtso and was deeply captivated by this sacred lake. Later, I even gave up my return flight in Nepal to go back to Namtso via land. Even mirror-like Yamdrok Lake (Yamdrok Yumtso), sacred Lake Manasarovar (Mapam Yumtso), devilish Lake Rakshastal (Lhanag-tso), and the regrettable Gokyo Lake have not made me as fond of any lake as I am of Namtso:
"Traveling thousands of miles over countless mountains, crossing endless waters, traversing boundless lands.
Walking narrow paths, crossing dangerous bridges, encountering perilous terrain, and facing human misfortune.
After enduring the rugged Sichuan-Tibet road, I only felt that Lhasa was not a city of dreams.
This holy city, where thousands make pilgrimages, still has heaven above and ancient temples standing.
Only the flowers on this shore are gone, while those on the other shore bloom.
Like a dream but not a dream, half awake and half drunk.
All beings know of the noise of the mortal world, yet they cling to its affairs.
Yet I, the author, fail to see the beauty of the mortal realm.
Having escaped the worldly realm, I still remember that the world holds its own beauty.
Namtso, although this is not her most beautiful moment,
But who can resist the arrival of such heavenly scenery!? – Impression of Namtso (2009)
Fragments of the Namtso impression:
After going to Tibet, I became highly immune to lakes, and it was hard for any lake to stir my desire to return. But Lake Baikal is that exception. If I were to use “stunning” to describe Namtso, I would use “breathtaking” to describe Lake Baikal. Or see below whether it is worth such longing:-
Road of Ice and Snow
Getting to Olkhon Island, the largest and most iconic island of Lake Baikal, is not an easy task. Departing from the city center of Irkutsk, you need to drive for five hours to reach the shore of Lake Baikal. In summer, it’s a dock, meaning you need to transfer to a boat to Olkhon Island and then take a vehicle to each homestay. Since we went in winter, the lake surface freezes to a certain thickness, allowing driving on the ice. When the ice isn’t thick enough, private ice-breaking boats are available, but there’s no guarantee they’ll run—you might be disappointed. So visiting Olkhon Island is either best done in summer or deep winter. Usually, the homestay owners on the island can arrange vehicles that pick you up from anywhere in the Irkutsk city center and drop you off right at your homestay, costing around 800 rubles (approximately 80 HKD) in early 2016.
Once out of the city center, the vehicle speeds along hundreds of kilometers of road, with endless white snowfields stretching on both sides. Occasionally, you see houses, and sometimes mountains and forests. Though the journey is long, the scenery along the way is poetic, picturesque, and dreamlike—never dull. When tired, just sleep a bit. After the long road trip, the car gradually climbs the mountain, and the winding mountain roads offer another kind of view. The car in front and the mountain behind form a wild scene, and looking down from a height, the road ahead seems like a path to a world of ice and snow. The wind blows the snow, forming a grayish-white snowy road. Then, when you reach the mountaintop and gaze at the distant Lake Baikal, it’s an incredibly moving sight. But at this point, you’re actually driving on permafrost, not concrete, and the bumps are so intense it feels like a dance between man and machine. After five hours of scenic roads, at the end of the permafrost road lies the shore of Lake Baikal. But this is still not Olkhon Island—you need to switch to adorable little cars, like beetles, to continue. With strong music playing, these chain-less little beetles speed across the frozen lake for an hour before slowly landing at the destination—Olkhon Island. This journey into Olkhon Island can truly be called an ice-and-snow road.
Baikal’s Sky (Baikalsky)
After landing on the island, the driver drops each passenger off at their homestay. Most travelers stay at Netika’s Homestay, the largest homestay on the island and one of its biggest contributors, as it was they who introduced Olkhon Island to the world. With such fame, it’s naturally in high demand and was fully booked early on. We had to settle for one of the highest-rated options on TripAdvisor—Baikalsky Plyos (also known as Gala’s
guesthouse). As soon as we got out of the car, a straightforward Mongolian man and two pure white Siberian sled dogs welcomed us. Then Gala, a Russian woman who speaks fluent English, came out to greet us. After settling us in, we went downstairs for lunch.
Gala’s home has a three-story house used as a homestay, plus a self-occupied residence, a restaurant, a sauna, two stables, a doghouse, and a large open area. Staying at Gala’s
offers views of the lake and mountains, adjacent to fairytale-like buildings, with private bathrooms and free high-speed Wi-Fi—making it one of the top-tier homestays on the island. In addition, meals are included at Gala’s—breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all provided. As long as you’re there, she will cook delicious dishes for her guests to enjoy. In fact, even if you do nothing else at Lake Baikal, just staying in the cozy wooden house, sipping a shot of Baikal vodka, tasting freshly caught Baikal salmon sashimi, and admiring the snow-covered garden outside the window, quietly enjoying a moment of peace, is already a great joy in life.
The scenery of Lake Baikal is beautiful, but the people are even more so. Gala is vastly different from the typical image of Russian women. She is a gentle and thoughtful Russian who does her utmost to meet her guests’ needs, often exceeding expectations. Gala’s husband is a shy and honest Mongolian man who always chats and takes you around with a smile and kindness. Gala’s
family also includes a little daughter, a beautiful mixed-race Mongolian-Russian girl. During the day, when her dad is around, she quietly watches TV or plays with the cats; but once she gets a bit familiar, she becomes an incredibly lively little wildcat, playing wildly and energetically.
In addition, Gala’s family has five pure white Siberian Huskies and one Alaskan Malamute (?). These dogs are extremely gentle and affectionate. Every morning, they wait for you at the door to see if you’ve woken up, hoping for something to eat or someone to play with. If they’re in good spirits, you can even take them out on the lake to try sledding—but these days, they’ve been too busy reproducing to have any energy. Also, remember when we were taking photos of the starry sky at night? The dogs make very reliable security guards. They’ll come running if they hear a sound to check who it is, then go back to resting once they realize it’s just a guest. Occasionally, they’ll patrol around.
Besides the dogs, there are also cats. Normally, they lazily lounge around, but if they feel like it, they’ll hop onto your lap. Their biggest interest, though, is going for a stroll outside. One night, when we were heading back to sleep, the cat darted out the moment we opened the door. No amount of treats or coaxing could bring it back. The more we paid attention to it, the farther it ran—eventually leaping over the wall and disappearing. With the temperature at minus twenty-something degrees, we were genuinely worried it might freeze to death. But where do you even begin to look for it in such cold? We thought about asking Gala for help, but no matter how hard we knocked, they wouldn’t wake up. So, we left a gap in the door, hoping the cat would come back once it got too cold. That night, unable to rest, I went downstairs to take photos of the starry sky while waiting for the cat to return—but it never came back. Instead, the owner did. When I told him the cat had run off and asked if it might freeze, he simply smiled his signature smile and said, “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” Well, I guess I’d better go back to bed then. The next day, under the warm sunlight, the little girl and the cat came back in, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. The second night, the cat ran off again—and this time, it was “too cool to care,” Up.
That little wooden house and its courtyard, those sled dogs and the little kitten, those kind-hearted people and heartwarming moments—it was truly the most beautiful thing under the skies of Lake Baikal.
Blue Eyes
We arrived at Lake Baikal in the afternoon on the first day, so there wasn’t time to explore any scenic spots. Gala didn’t let us idle around the homestay, though—she had her husband take us to a small hill to see the legendary Shaman Stone. In the glow of the setting sun, the rooftops of the village looked even more beautiful, like something out of a fairy tale. From the hill, looking out at the lake, one or two tiny beetle-like vehicles zipped back and forth across the ice. On the other side was the sunset, and as a ray of evening light spilled down, Lake Baikal looked like an incredibly dazzling golden land. The red hues of the sky competed beautifully with the golden earth and the fairy-tale village, together forming a sunset scene by Lake Baikal.
Lake Baikal is known as the "Blue Eye of Siberia," thanks to its legendary blue ice. In winter, there are two main routes here: the northern route (North Line), where you seek out the legendary blue ice, and the southern route (South Line), where you visit the Sky Mirror. Because the distances are far, most people book their tour spots through the homestays. These tours usually depart at 10:00 a.m., picking up guests from every homestay, and officially set off around 11:00 a.m. for the day’s activities. Lunch is provided around noon, and the tour wraps up around 3:00 p.m., with everyone back at their homestays by 4:00 p.m. So, basically, you can only do one route per day. Since we only had one day to spare, we chose the North Line to search for blue ice.
Actually, the so-called blue ice isn’t inherently blue—the color comes from how it reflects sunlight. Therefore, the primary condition for seeing blue ice is a sunny day. Another factor is the purity of the lake water. Lake Baikal is the second clearest lake in the world, with remarkably stable transparency (over 40 meters deep). This clarity is due to a unique creature in the lake—amphipod shrimp—that filter the water below 50 meters depth seven or eight times a day, keeping the water incredibly “pure.” These two conditions combine to create the legendary phenomenon of blue ice. The first stop on the North Line mainly features broken ice and icicles. On the crystal-clear lake bottom, various sizes of broken ice float about, appearing bluish-white under the sunlight, scattered like sapphires across the surface. On the other side, under a cave in the mountainside, hang icicles that look like swords suspended in midair. These white, sword-like icicles inspire both awe and a bit of fear—every now and then, you can hear the sound of one falling. Just imagine what would happen if one above you suddenly dropped. So, it’s best to admire them from a distance rather than get too close.
Due to the extreme cold, and with fierce winds on the lake surface driving the temperature even lower—estimated to be around minus 20 to 30 degrees—the majority of our tour group quickly returned to their vehicles after stepping out. But having come all this way, I wanted to soak in every single moment, and I also wanted to take plenty of beautiful photos to share with friends who couldn’t be here. Yet, every time, I ended up rushing back to the vehicle, which was quite embarrassing. Honestly, I thought, how wonderful it would be if this were a trip with close friends. It made me want to organize another Lake Baikal trip just to fully enjoy such incredible times.
Afterward, the driver took us to the second stop, where the highlight was the exceptionally clear water—you could see all the way to the lake bottom. Picking up a piece of ice and looking through it was almost like not having any ice at all. After walking halfway around the mountain and regrouping with the others, the lake here looked as if it had been suddenly frozen in the midst of strong winds. The ice formed wave-like patterns across the surface. The rocks on the ground were encased in ice, though you wouldn’t notice unless you looked closely. And if you peered down, you could clearly see bubbles frozen in place, along with cracks in the ice that had split several meters deep before refreezing. These were sights I’d never imagined seeing—they truly left me amazed.
Next, we headed to the third stop. After a long and bumpy ride, we stepped out to find a vast expanse of blue, green, white, and even black ice. The variety added yet another layer of beauty. The differently shaped ice blocks and waves kept me snapping photos nonstop. Then, we had to circle around to the other side of the mountain to regroup for lunch. Along the way, we walked on pitch-black ice so deep you couldn’t see the bottom, with visible white cracks beneath. Every step felt a bit frightening. Actually, the ice was thick enough to drive on, so the weight of a single person shouldn’t have been a concern. But just as I ventured toward a spot near the mountain to relieve myself (since there were no restrooms—the driver said you could go pretty much anywhere), I suddenly heard a crisp, terrifying crack underfoot. Two people nearby also stopped and dared not move further. I didn’t dare take another step and retraced my path back to the main trail. Eventually, I safely rejoined the group and we began our lunch. Dining on steaming chicken legs and hot tea at transparent ice tables and chairs on Lake Baikal was absolutely magical.
After a brief rest post-lunch, we set off for the final stop on the North Line. The moment I stepped off the vehicle, I was stunned by the sight of the "blue iceberg." In reality, there was no blue iceberg—just massive blue ice waves taller than a person. The driver suggested we walk around the hill, calling it the highlight of the entire day. Right after getting out of the car, I eagerly started snapping photos without paying attention to whether anyone else was going ahead. My companion and I slowly walked and photographed our way around. But after most of the loop, we still hadn’t seen a single person ahead. Eventually, halfway around, we hurriedly turned back. When I got back to the vehicle, I realized no one had gone around the hill at all—everyone had apparently waited in the vehicle for quite a while. Once again, I felt embarrassed. Even though I thought, “How many moments in life will I get to stand here?” I still needed to be considerate of others—which only reinforced my desire to organize a friends’ trip to enjoy such moments together. The day on the North Line escalated in scenic beauty with every stop, ending with the breathtaking final sight and the regret of not completing that last half-loop. As the sun set, its afterglow filtered through the Shaman Stone and the rooftops of the little village—a scene that etched itself deeply into my heart. Perhaps, or maybe even truly, Lake Baikal has replaced Namtso as my favorite lake.
More picturesque than any painting
On our third morning here, we woke up early planning to enjoy one last delicious meal before taking a walk by the lake. The Shanghai couple staying with us also intended to stroll leisurely around the village after breakfast. But just as we were finishing up, Gala suggested that since we had a little time, her husband could take us up to the mountaintop. We insisted it wasn’t necessary to trouble him—we could walk there ourselves. Gala said that wouldn’t do; it would take 40 minutes just to walk there, and we wouldn’t have enough time. So, we accepted her kindness, quickly finished breakfast, and set off to see the place Gala had recommended.
Starting from Gala’s home, we passed the supermarket, walked a short distance, then turned left, crossed a forest, and began climbing up the snow-covered mountain. Though the owner was shy and unassuming, his exceptional driving skills on the snow were truly eye-opening—but speeding across the snowy mountain left me in awe. Halfway up the mountain, the view suddenly opened up: the Olkhon Peninsula, Lake Baikal, and the continuous snow-capped mountains stretched out before us. We were struck by the breathtaking artistry of nature. Every snapshot could have been a picture-perfect, breath-taking scene. The scenery was more stunning than any painting. But time was limited, the wind and snow were biting, and we didn’t stay long before heading back.
Homeward Bound
Finally, we took some photos, chatted, and expressed our gratitude to the Gala family. Even as we got into the vehicle, we sighed that the dream had ended too soon. We hugged the little girl reluctantly and said goodbye—but she actually gave her beloved comb to the Shanghai couple.
We left Lake Baikal with heavy hearts—the scenery, the blue ice, the little village, the starry sky, the homestay, the sled dogs, the kitten—all of it was unforgettable. Every bit of it felt like the perfect arrangement.
We carried a sense of regret as we embarked on our journey home, but that very regret would become the reason for my return—back to Lake Baikal.
The Dream Train – The Trans-Siberian Railway
Capital of the Far East – Vladivostok (Sea of Japan) (Part 1 of the Trans-Siberian Railway Travelogue)
For the full travelogue, please visit:
http://travellifememories.weebly.com/3519920271210332...97211522924628246.html