LISTVYANKA, Eastern Siberia -- In 1960, U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower was invited to visit Lake Baikal. A frenzy of activity followed: In just two months, a 65-kilometer road was laid between Irkutsk and the village of Listvyanka, on the lake's western shore, and a plush sanatorium was built atop a nearby hill.
The trip idea was blown out of the water after American pilot Gary Powers was shot down over Russia in a U2 spy plane in May of that year.
But Listvyanka benefited anyway, becoming Lake Baikal's most popular tourist destination thanks to the illustrious visitor who never came.
"It has become tradition for tourists from Irkutsk to come here," said Anatoly Panilov, who runs cruises up the lake from Listvyanka.
On a sunny morning in late May, there was plenty of evidence to back him up. On a shingle beach near the spot where Panilov's boat, the Parus, was moored, groups of vacationers were indulging in another local tradition -- dipping in the lake, which is supposed to bring longer life.
After gulping a bracing shot of vodka, one plump Russian businessman charged into the ice-cold water, floundered for a moment, then staggered out almost as quickly as he had plunged in, to the amusement of his friends.
Quite a few foreign tourists had made the trip out from Irkutsk to Listvyanka, too. Several of them said they were taking a break from traveling on the Trans-Mongolian Railroad, which coincides with the Trans-Siberian as far as the Buddhist enclave of Ulan Ude on Baikal's eastern shore before veering southeast to Beijing and has become the most popular trans-Siberian route for backpackers. Turi Musumeci and Marina Tipaldi, a young Italian couple, said they had stopped off for a couple of days on the way to Ulan Bator, while Ian and Ellen Mealings, from New Zealand, had traveled up to Baikal from the opposite direction.
Although the summer season has yet to get into full swing, business in Listvyanka is already looking promising. A steady stream of tourists arrives in buses and cars from Irkutsk and clambers out onto the dockside, where cruise boat captains, fish sellers and souvenir traders compete for their attention.
"More and more tourists have been coming here over the past couple of years," Panilov said. "Many foreigners, especially Chinese and Japanese."
For people in Listvyanka, these tourists have provided a lifeline after many of the area's traditional employers, the shipyards, closed down following the collapse of the Soviet Union.
"A lot of shipyards shut down about 10 years ago because orders for ship repairs dried up," Panilov said.
Most of the boats owned by the shipyards were bought up by private traders, who now use them to take tourists out on the lake, he said. These boat owners work in partnership with tourist agencies in Irkutsk, which bring clients for pre-arranged cruises.
"Everyone here knows each other well," Panilov said. "Everyone revolves around one another."
Unlike the handful of other boat captains at the docks, Panilov still works part-time at one of the few remaining shipyards in Irkutsk -- owned by his father, Nikolai -- but over the past three years, he has started to shift his focus to tourism. Panilov runs an average of three cruises per day, earning about 1,000 rubles ($32) -- less than other boat owners are making because he does not work directly with tourist agencies. The hum of activity at Listvyanka's docks is put into some perspective by nearby Port Baikal, a decaying backwater on the other side of the Angara River that was once an important stop on the Trans-Siberian.
At the turn of the 20th century, trains coming from Moscow would arrive at the port and be transported -- passengers, carriages and all -- on huge steamships across Lake Baikal to Mysovaya on the eastern shore, where they would pick up the line to Vladivostok.
When rail traffic got bottlenecked in Port Baikal during the war with Japan in 1904, engineers blasted out the cliffs around the lake and laid a track via tunnels and 200 bridges to join the two ends of the Trans-Siberian. The stretch of line was such an intricate and expensive undertaking that it became known as the Tsar's Jeweled Buckle.
In 1955, however, a dam constructed lower down the Angara River submerged the section of track between Irkutsk and Port Baikal. A shortcut was built from Irkutsk straight to the south of the lake, leaving Port Baikal stranded at the end of a little-used, 94-kilometer stretch of track.
Today, Port Baikal is served by just three or four trains a week, along with a handful of ferries every day.
The docks are mostly deserted and the roofs of several buildings have collapsed into rubble. Some abandoned train carriages have been turned into makeshift homes.
With hardly any trains to supervise, a guard in the small wooden station hut, who gave his name only as Volodya, passed his time playing solitaire on a computer. Unlike his tourist-wise neighbors in Listvyanka, he was reluctant to take any money for a night's lodging in a room next door.
Almost opposite the station hut, a sign on an empty wooden shack spelled out in cracked paint the English words "Baikal Souvenirs."
But the only place for souvenir traders to make a living is at the dockside stalls in Listvyanka, where all sorts of tourist tack, from stone Buddhas to malachite bracelets, is on offer.
Others at the docks earn money by selling smoked or dried omul, a relative of the salmon that is unique to Lake Baikal and a tourist attraction in its own right. "People come here not just to see the lake but to eat the fish," said Sveta, one of about 15 women standing behind tables heaped high with dried omul.
Sveta, who would not give her last name, said she made a reasonable living from selling the fish to tourists, even out of season.
"There are tourists all year round, although slightly less of course in winter," she said, adding that the flow has increased this year. "So I get by all right."
The influence of tourism is filtering through to the rest of the village, too.
A five-minute walk from the docks, a luxury beach house built in the mid-1990s by a local businessman has recently been converted into a guesthouse.
The manager, Lyudmila Alfyorovna, said the house changed hands several times after the original owner sold it in the wake of the 1998 financial crisis, eventually opening for business as a guesthouse last fall. Thirteen Korean tourists were currently staying there, she said.
Just up the hill from the guesthouse, one of Russia's top solar observatories has adapted to tourism by laying on excursions in cooperation with local tour operators. Alexander Borovik, the director of the observatory, said there was not much money in it but that it helped pay for small things like engine parts for the observatory's jeep.
He said some thought had been given to broadening the observatory's tourist activities by putting up guests in its student dormitories but that this was unfeasible, at least for the time being.
"We could improve our facilities to cater to tourists but the income we get from tourism doesn't really justify the expense," he said. "Anyway, it wouldn't really work for us because we would have no time for science, only for business."
By contrast, Panilov and his family have come up with an ambitious money-making scheme.
At their home village of Bolshiye Koty, located in a picturesque bay one hour's boat ride north of Listvyanka, the family has almost finished building an 11-room guesthouse, which will come equipped with a banya and swimming pool. "We don't advertise these services because we're not quite ready yet," Panilov said. "We will start by offering them to tourists at the docks."
The banya is already finished, however, and Panilov has begun taking visitors up to Bolshiye Koty to try out a new cruise/banya package deal. He said it works well because his family can prepare the banya in the time it takes for him to drive the boat there.
Once the guesthouse is ready, the family will devote more time to tourism and less to the Irkutsk shipyard, Panilov said. "In a few years time, tourism will be our main business activity."
The trip idea was blown out of the water after American pilot Gary Powers was shot down over Russia in a U2 spy plane in May of that year.
But Listvyanka benefited anyway, becoming Lake Baikal's most popular tourist destination thanks to the illustrious visitor who never came.
"It has become tradition for tourists from Irkutsk to come here," said Anatoly Panilov, who runs cruises up the lake from Listvyanka.
On a sunny morning in late May, there was plenty of evidence to back him up. On a shingle beach near the spot where Panilov's boat, the Parus, was moored, groups of vacationers were indulging in another local tradition -- dipping in the lake, which is supposed to bring longer life.
After gulping a bracing shot of vodka, one plump Russian businessman charged into the ice-cold water, floundered for a moment, then staggered out almost as quickly as he had plunged in, to the amusement of his friends.
Quite a few foreign tourists had made the trip out from Irkutsk to Listvyanka, too. Several of them said they were taking a break from traveling on the Trans-Mongolian Railroad, which coincides with the Trans-Siberian as far as the Buddhist enclave of Ulan Ude on Baikal's eastern shore before veering southeast to Beijing and has become the most popular trans-Siberian route for backpackers. Turi Musumeci and Marina Tipaldi, a young Italian couple, said they had stopped off for a couple of days on the way to Ulan Bator, while Ian and Ellen Mealings, from New Zealand, had traveled up to Baikal from the opposite direction.
Although the summer season has yet to get into full swing, business in Listvyanka is already looking promising. A steady stream of tourists arrives in buses and cars from Irkutsk and clambers out onto the dockside, where cruise boat captains, fish sellers and souvenir traders compete for their attention.
"More and more tourists have been coming here over the past couple of years," Panilov said. "Many foreigners, especially Chinese and Japanese."
For people in Listvyanka, these tourists have provided a lifeline after many of the area's traditional employers, the shipyards, closed down following the collapse of the Soviet Union.
"A lot of shipyards shut down about 10 years ago because orders for ship repairs dried up," Panilov said.
Most of the boats owned by the shipyards were bought up by private traders, who now use them to take tourists out on the lake, he said. These boat owners work in partnership with tourist agencies in Irkutsk, which bring clients for pre-arranged cruises.
"Everyone here knows each other well," Panilov said. "Everyone revolves around one another."
Unlike the handful of other boat captains at the docks, Panilov still works part-time at one of the few remaining shipyards in Irkutsk -- owned by his father, Nikolai -- but over the past three years, he has started to shift his focus to tourism. Panilov runs an average of three cruises per day, earning about 1,000 rubles ($32) -- less than other boat owners are making because he does not work directly with tourist agencies. The hum of activity at Listvyanka's docks is put into some perspective by nearby Port Baikal, a decaying backwater on the other side of the Angara River that was once an important stop on the Trans-Siberian.
At the turn of the 20th century, trains coming from Moscow would arrive at the port and be transported -- passengers, carriages and all -- on huge steamships across Lake Baikal to Mysovaya on the eastern shore, where they would pick up the line to Vladivostok.
When rail traffic got bottlenecked in Port Baikal during the war with Japan in 1904, engineers blasted out the cliffs around the lake and laid a track via tunnels and 200 bridges to join the two ends of the Trans-Siberian. The stretch of line was such an intricate and expensive undertaking that it became known as the Tsar's Jeweled Buckle.
In 1955, however, a dam constructed lower down the Angara River submerged the section of track between Irkutsk and Port Baikal. A shortcut was built from Irkutsk straight to the south of the lake, leaving Port Baikal stranded at the end of a little-used, 94-kilometer stretch of track.
Today, Port Baikal is served by just three or four trains a week, along with a handful of ferries every day.
The docks are mostly deserted and the roofs of several buildings have collapsed into rubble. Some abandoned train carriages have been turned into makeshift homes.
With hardly any trains to supervise, a guard in the small wooden station hut, who gave his name only as Volodya, passed his time playing solitaire on a computer. Unlike his tourist-wise neighbors in Listvyanka, he was reluctant to take any money for a night's lodging in a room next door.
Almost opposite the station hut, a sign on an empty wooden shack spelled out in cracked paint the English words "Baikal Souvenirs."
But the only place for souvenir traders to make a living is at the dockside stalls in Listvyanka, where all sorts of tourist tack, from stone Buddhas to malachite bracelets, is on offer.
Others at the docks earn money by selling smoked or dried omul, a relative of the salmon that is unique to Lake Baikal and a tourist attraction in its own right. "People come here not just to see the lake but to eat the fish," said Sveta, one of about 15 women standing behind tables heaped high with dried omul.
Sveta, who would not give her last name, said she made a reasonable living from selling the fish to tourists, even out of season.
"There are tourists all year round, although slightly less of course in winter," she said, adding that the flow has increased this year. "So I get by all right."
The influence of tourism is filtering through to the rest of the village, too.
A five-minute walk from the docks, a luxury beach house built in the mid-1990s by a local businessman has recently been converted into a guesthouse.
The manager, Lyudmila Alfyorovna, said the house changed hands several times after the original owner sold it in the wake of the 1998 financial crisis, eventually opening for business as a guesthouse last fall. Thirteen Korean tourists were currently staying there, she said.
Just up the hill from the guesthouse, one of Russia's top solar observatories has adapted to tourism by laying on excursions in cooperation with local tour operators. Alexander Borovik, the director of the observatory, said there was not much money in it but that it helped pay for small things like engine parts for the observatory's jeep.
He said some thought had been given to broadening the observatory's tourist activities by putting up guests in its student dormitories but that this was unfeasible, at least for the time being.
"We could improve our facilities to cater to tourists but the income we get from tourism doesn't really justify the expense," he said. "Anyway, it wouldn't really work for us because we would have no time for science, only for business."
By contrast, Panilov and his family have come up with an ambitious money-making scheme.
At their home village of Bolshiye Koty, located in a picturesque bay one hour's boat ride north of Listvyanka, the family has almost finished building an 11-room guesthouse, which will come equipped with a banya and swimming pool. "We don't advertise these services because we're not quite ready yet," Panilov said. "We will start by offering them to tourists at the docks."
The banya is already finished, however, and Panilov has begun taking visitors up to Bolshiye Koty to try out a new cruise/banya package deal. He said it works well because his family can prepare the banya in the time it takes for him to drive the boat there.
Once the guesthouse is ready, the family will devote more time to tourism and less to the Irkutsk shipyard, Panilov said. "In a few years time, tourism will be our main business activity."
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