The Catherine the Great palace lies 1 hour outside of St. Petersburg and was truly stupendous. The original castle was completely destroyed during the second world war and the famous Amber room was stolen by the visiting Nazis. Over the past 60 years, 29 of 55 palace rooms have been restored to their former glory, including the amber room which was just opened and is as amazing as I had imagined. Three different architecture is found throughout the building, neo-classical, empire and traditional Russian style.

We then took an overnight train to Moscow, our first russian train. It was much more luxurious than we anticipated – clean sheets, TVs, hot water, if only Lenin knew! In fact, our first stop in Moscow was to see the man himself, who now rests less than 500 meters from a McDonald’s. The old patron, Lenin, is unfortunately the worse for wear, growing more and more translucent, there is even talk of removing him from his mausoleum.

After visiting the main sites in Moscow – Kremlin, Museums, Churches; we bought our “real” train tickets, 3rd class on the Irkutsk Express – three and half days. Life on the train was lively and all aboard were more than friendly. They happily gave us more salted fish than we could chew along with gallons of beer to wash it down. Since the Russian government has raised taxes on Vodka, many comrades have turned to beer, which is not really considered alcohol in the motherland.

On the train, we met families, soldiers, grandmas and children. All of whom offered us their food and hospitality. Jon, the father of a cute young girl, even insisted we visit his brother in Irkutsk, he gave us salty fish and said we had an amazing aura. Sadly, we could not take him up on his offer, maybe next time.

At Novosibirsk, the Ulan Ude Tai Kwon Doe team got on the train after placing second at the Siberian Open. Their conquest of our car culminated in the renaming of the train to the Karate express.

We came to Lake Baikal to rest and visit the oldest, deepest lake tin the world. In the small village of Listvyanka we set out to find rooms for a night or two. This proved harder than expected, the town seemed to have more dogs than people and even less signs for hotels. After crossing a group of Australian tourists, we were informed of the Russian word for rooms, which we now realised, was plastered on every other home. We rang at one door clearly marked Rooms for Rent, to be politely told, “Hello, Go home!”. Luckily the hostess changed her mind and let us in.

During our visit,  we climbed up to a run-down soviet hotel called, you guessed it, Lake Baikal. The place has certainly seen better days, not that long ago, the rooms were likely full of powerful soviet politicians. Today, it still retains its 1950s Shining charm, superb view over the lake and surprisingly delicious food.

After our stint on the great lake, it was back to Irkutsk where my girlfriend and I headed south to Mongolia and my brother continued to the majestic, or is it magical, city of Vladivostok.

The igloo was resembled a snowfort of my youth more than a textbook igloo; the structure was made of compacted snow dug from the inside out, but perhaps that is what an igloo is? As night fell, we prepared a fire and settled in. After much talking and eating, we prepared ourselves for bed, only to realize it was only 19:30 – the sun sets early on a january Chicoutimi night.

Real Igloo:

We got lucky, the thermometer hovered around -5 and we lasted the night. At the crack of dawn, we strapped on our snowshoes and headed up the mountain. We climbed nearly 1000 m of height and covered 18kms. Nearing the top we had great views of the Saguenay.

On our trek down, it began to rain. Exhausted and sweaty, we wondered if our snow-home would be able to withstand the warm weather; we were very happy when the welcome centre offered us a cabin instead of the igloo. Using the rain as an excuse, we hapilly obliged.

Though the igloo lacked authenticity, it was a fun experience and the parc staff were fantastic.

Building a real igloo:

Buy tickets here at a reduction.

More info here.

The Hermitage Museum is the city’s main attraction; one of the largest museums in the world, it offers truly stupendous works of art. In my opinion, The Hermitage is the most impressive museum I have ever seen, the density of priceless art is unparalleled. The building itself is a work of, sometimes overly excessive, art – it was the former palace of the Tsar. While the art is amazing, it is also a testament to the excesses of the Russian royalty who amassed amazing collections while their people starved in the cold winter.

Reaching the St. Petersburg metro, dug deep underground to avoid the numerous canals, requires an impressive five-minute escalator ride to reach. Once arrived, the beauty of the stations is astounding. The Soviets built gorgeous metro stations with chandeliers, marble walls and vaulted ceilings.

After you see their metro, it is clear our public spaces have been done on the cheap. Too often in capitalist societies we only look at the financial costs and forget the emotional impact beautiful spaces can have. The few public venues we accord money to – museums and concert halls are the haunts of the rich while our basic metros, bus stations and streets are used by all citizens. In a democratic society we should provide beauty democratically. A system that transports millions of people everyday should be built to not only transport the body, but also the mind and the heart.

Russian Photos here

Items required:

• Forms from the embassy
• Proof on insurance (expatriation and 30 000$ coverage). I bought it for my brother from L’Europeene Assurance for 32 Euros. I was covered under my apartment insurance.
• Photo of you – make sure to glue it to the forms before you go to the embassy.
• An invitation letter, we got this via our hotel in St. Petersbourg at a cost of 25 EUROS for 3 people, payable upon arrival.

Once you have all these items, you should be ok.

Good luck.

From the Misty Mountains of Simien, I continued North through the sleepy town of Shire, turning East to the heart of the fallen Aksumite Kingdom. The city of Aksum, littered with giant Obelisks, undiscovered tombs, and ancient Palaces; could easily be the backdrop of an Indiana Jones movie. The scale of the Aksumite projects rival any ancient civilization and it’s mysterious fall from power should deeply humble us.

From Aksum, the bus took a hellish dirt road that it remarkably survived, landing me amidst the rock-hewn, cliff dangeling, churches of Tigrai. Innumerable churches litter the region, usually hidden inside, on top of and part of mountains; they were placed in these innaccessible locations to hide from the invading bearded ones.

The priests, who hold the keys to the churches are notoriously difficult to find, but once they do show up, the inside of the churches are simply remarkable. The local priests kindly invited me to a funeral feast, held annually to commemorate the death of a family member. A delicious feast amidst hundreds of villagers and a bucket of locally brewed Tala beer remains a great, though hazy, memory. Though I could not visit it, there lies a dark and forboding land to the east of Tigrai; the Danikal depression, a highly volcanic area which may be the most inhospitable on earth.

After stumbling back to the main road from the mountain village, I started the long journey to Lalibella.

Lalibella, also refered to as Roha, is a city centered around massive monolithic churches (means: they were carved out of solid bedrock, in a sense, freed from the mountain) in a remote series of mountains at an elevation of over 3400 m. After a long bus ride, I hitched a ride in a cement truck, which, after trudging along for 8 hours, lost a wheel and left us stranded. After a cool night in the mountains, two buses to Lalibella showed up; one was a chartered bus with a few extra seats, while the other was a public bus with three times too many people on it. Of course, I chose the public bus.

With two friendly ethiopian laddies on my lap and a mouthful of kchat (mild drug) in my mouth, we plodded along the curvy mountain road. About 30 kilometers from Lalibella, we came across the chartered bus which had impressivly managed to go off the road, over a ditch, through a pile of wood, stopping half way through a local villager’s mud house. Luck was on my side.

My last fistful of ethiopian dollars were exchanged for a plane ticket to Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia. In Addis, at a traditional Ethiopian restaurant we ordered Kittfo, Ethiopian steak tarter (slightly cooked to ensure the tape worms are dead). A very memorable meal and a great finish to an amazing country.

P.S. If you noticed some similarities with the names from Middle Earth, Gonder, Misty mountains, shire, Danikal depression, and Roha; you were not alone.

After the park, I headed to the historic north. Starting in Baher Dar on the shores of Ethiopia’s largest lake; we visited hidden monasteries on various small islands. After a full day on the rickety metal boat, we made our way back to the town amidst a beautifully coloured and wavy thunderstorm. Luckily the fifteen foot snakes in the lake do not apparently enjoy the taste of human flesh.

After the island monasteries; I arrived in Gonder, home to a once powerful kingdom of emperors who ruled Ethiopia. Simply magical. The town also had the privilege of welcoming the Italians in the 1930s; and who kindly left behind fascist art deco architecture and wonderful espresso machines.

After Gonder, we headed into the misty mountains of Simien. Home to the Walia Ibex, Gelada Baboon, the Simien Wolf, and 2000 m cliff faces; the five day trek proved to be as rewarding as Kilimanjaro. In contrast to Kili where we were privy to three course meals and hot water; I cooked for my scout and mule handler – neither of whom could speak english, camped in tents, carried our own gear, and met local villagers. The simien mountains was a much more authentic, and richer, experience.

All for now, another update in the days to come.

In the spirit of going from one extreme to another, I flew from tranquil Zanzibar to crazy Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia. I spent two days wandering around the city, visiting the churches, the cultural museum where they display and discuss the many insane Ethiopian tribes (lip extension, neck extension, running on bulls…), then paid my respects to our oldest ancestor dubbed “Lucy”, she is 3.3 million years old and represents the step between Apes and Men – unbelievable. Also visited the Mercato (the largest market in Africa) where they sell every imaginable item.

As of yesterday, I am safely in the city of Harar, near the Somali-Eritria border. It took 10 hours by bus, but it was worth it. The city was founded in the 7th century and is truly a throwback in time. Magical place.

We then did a three day safari which felt like Arthur Conan Doyle’s Lost World. We saw all the major animals (lions, cheetahs, elephants, buffalo, wildebeests, hyenas, rhinos, gazelles…), but unfortunately did not see a kill. Scenery in Tanzania is out of this world. The region where we did the Safari is inhabited by traditionally dressed Masai warriors who are beautiful people. Yet wearing traditional dress and carrying a spear while talking on the cell-phone and riding a bike seems a bit of a conflict.

I am now in Zanzibar, off the coast of Tanzania. The island is a very interesting mix of Indian, Arabic and African culture. Once home to a vibrant slave and spice trade, the place is now a remarkable vacation spot with 19th century Islamic-colonialist architecture. The rough plan I have is to go diving for a few days. No plan beyond that.

Sorry, no photos, satellite connect is too slow.