From Houston to Sydney 2013

Russian Far East - 2014

 

I had learned last night that almost none of the lights in my room worked, although fortunately there was still enough light from outside to see things in the room despite the thick cover of dark grey clouds.  I also learned that I needed to use insect repellant in my room to ward off the mosquitoes.  I had learned that the trickle of water available in the basin could only be either boiling hot or ice cold, so my expectations for a morning wash had already been suitably lowered when I woke this morning.  I had even (almost) accepted the strong smell of cigarette smoke (both stale and fresh) that permeated the building, including my room.

And yet, in spite of all these ‘reality checks’, my day today did not begin auspiciously.  Maro had said she would phone me at about 7:00 pm last night with details of today’s itinerary.  That phone call never came.  Nonetheless, as I had a written program document stating that departure would be at 9:30am, I wasn’t really worried.

Not until 9:30am, that is.

I had also been told that I could have breakfast any time after 8:00am.  I walked across to the restaurant in the neighbouring hotel at 8:15am to find the door locked.  However, my rattling of the door and the loud barking of the guard dog that was circling me aggressively on the porch must have woken the manager, who opened the door in her nightgown, rubbing her eyes.  A conversation using sign language soon revealed that the restaurant would open for breakfast at 10:00am – not so good for my travel plans!

No-one called or arrived at 9:30am as scheduled, so I waited and joined some other guests in the restaurant for a set breakfast of two fried eggs with diced tomato on top, accompanied by some slim slices of bread and butter and a cup of instant coffee.

I had still heard nothing by the time I finished breakfast at 10:30, so with the hotel manager’s help, I tried to phone Maro.  There was no answer despite several attempts.  The manager kept trying for me, and just before 11:00am, she somehow managed to contact the travel company office.  I spoke to Olga, who said she had also been unable to contact Maro that day.  In any case, she told me (somewhat late in the day, I thought), that it had been decided to cancel my tour for the day because of the bad weather, and it would be re-scheduled for 18th July.  Having read beforehand about Kamchatka’s fickle weather, I had included some extra days here for just this purpose, so it happened that my first full day was re-designated as ‘free time’.

The skies were still overcast, but the rain had stopped, so I decided to take a walk into Paratunka village.  The hotel claims to be located in Paratunka, but it is actually 4.5 kilometres from the town centre, meaning I undertook a return walk of just over nine kilometres.

Paratunka is a small village with a couple of hundred residents at the most – and probably fewer, as many of the houses appear to be deserted.  The village was pleasant but unremarkable, and would not really justify travelling internationally to Kamchatka just to see it.

Apart from a large sanatorium for naval officers, a new Russian Orthodox church that seems to be nearing completion, and one spectacularly large new house, all the buildings in Paratunka were old.  One general store seemed to be the only business operating, as a larger mini-supermarket had closed.  It was difficult to tell whether the Post-Telegraph-Telephone office was still functioning or not as its classic Soviet building seemed intact and the post box looked new, but the building was very run-down.

The walk provided me with some good exercise and the opportunity to buy some basic necessities, but the involuntary and unplanned lack of action imposed by the weather did not sit well with me.  It was, after all, not why I had came to Kamchatka!

Day 14 - Paratunka

Monday

14 July 2014