From the Arctic Ocean to the Yellow Sea

by Julius M. Price

CHAPTER XVI.
IRKUTSK.

Unpleasant experiences at hotel—Hospitality of Mr. Charles Lee—First impressions of the city.

IRKUTSK.

I was much disappointed to find, on reaching the principal hotel, the Moskovskaia Podvorié, that its glories, of which I had heard so much, were things of the past, and that as a hotel it no longer existed. True, the imposing three-storied building still remained, but under a new designation, for it is now the head-quarters of the Irkutsk military staff, and is known as the Etat Major of the city. A few chambres meublées in the upper stories are all that remain of what was, two years ago, the best hotel in Siberia. I afterwards learnt that its failure was owing to its having been got up on far too grand a scale for the place, and that its promoters had lost a “pot of money” over it while it was open. Of course there were many other hotels, so I left the matter in the hands of the yemschik, for my foot was so painful that I felt absolutely indifferent as to where or how I was lodged, so long as I could get out of the sledge and lie down quietly somewhere. But it was evidently the height of the season in Irkutsk and the city crammed, for everywhere I was told they were “full.” At last, however, after a lot of driving about, I found a place where they had one room just vacant. It was a really smart and imposing-looking hotel from outside, and quite a “find,” as I imagined—till I got inside the building, when I found myself in one of the dirtiest places of its kind I had yet seen in Siberia. The contrast between the exterior and the interior was simply startling. Much, however, as I was disgusted with it, I was so sick of hunting about for lodgings that I determined to put up with it for a short time; at any rate, till my foot was better. With the help of Matwieff I therefore made myself as comfortable as I could on two chairs (for I did not like the look of the sofa), and composed myself for “forty winks” whilst waiting for the “something to eat” which I had ordered, for the accident to my foot had not interfered with my appetite. But I found it impossible to have a nap, on account of certain strange noises round the room. At first I could not make out what they were occasioned by, but I soon discovered after a slight inspection. The wall-paper, which was stretched over a wooden foundation, did not touch the wood everywhere, and the curious noise was produced by myriads of blackbeetles, cockroaches, and other vermin running up and down the wall and in and out of holes they had eaten in the paper. This cheerful discovery decided me at once to clear out of the place, and chance finding something better elsewhere.

THE MOSKOVSKAIA PODVORIÉ, IRKUTSK.

[To face [p. 180].

Suddenly an idea occurred to me. I had a letter of introduction to a Mr. Charles Lee, an English engineer living in Irkutsk, a brother of the unfortunate man who lost his life on our way up the Yenisei, so I sent this letter to him, with a note telling him of my accident, and asking if he could recommend me some other hotel to go to. My good luck had not quite deserted me, for in a few minutes came back a message saying he would himself be round to see me directly, and shortly after he arrived. On seeing my helpless condition, this good Samaritan insisted on my immediately leaving the hotel and going to stay at his house, to be nursed till my foot was well; and, so as to ensure my not refusing, he gave orders for my luggage to be forthwith removed. In a very short time I was in a snug room, surrounded by every comfort; so, although the doctor said I should have to remain indoors and not move for a week, I felt that I should be in luck’s way if my lines were always cast in such pleasant places. Under kind nursing my injured ankle got rapidly well, so much so that I was soon able to get about again, and with the assistance, though much against the wish, of my hospitable friend, find convenient lodgings in the city. So it was a further proof of “all’s well that end’s well.”

Containing forty thousand inhabitants, the capital of Eastern Siberia covers an enormous extent of ground, being nearly two miles in each direction—the principal street, or Bolshoi Oulitza, itself over a mile in length. My first impressions on walking up this noble thoroughfare were very different indeed from what I had anticipated, for it was hard to realize how near one was to the Chinese frontier, and how far from a railway; the whole scene was one of absolutely European character, and reminded me not a little of many capitals I have visited. It was quite a relief, after the desolate look of the streets at Krasnoiarsk and Yeniseisk, owing to the apparent absence of shops, to see here the handsome buildings with large plate-glass windows, in which were displayed every description of European goods; and my surprise was the more natural, for, from what I had read, I was led to believe that nowhere in Siberia would I find the streets enlivened by the shop displays which give so much life and character to a place. But what astonished me most pleasantly in this far-away Siberian city was to see the fair sex dressed in the very latest of Parisian fashions, for I saw costumes in the Bolshoi Oulitza which would have looked smart even in Bond Street or the Rue de la Paix, and, as added to which I don’t think I was ever in a place which for its size could boast of more pretty faces, the effect on a bright sunny afternoon may be imagined.