Buryat Air

We were told that the air sevice between Irkutsk and Severobaikalsk had been suspended, there were no more flights. This obviously proved to be wrong when we were issued tickets. Of course in Russia, a ticket in hand does not a flight make, and although I was reasonably sure we would fly, I reserved total certainty until we reached the airport, presented our ticket, went through the tiny security area, and stood outside looking at the plane - a small 50-seat AN-24B, old Russian military twin-engine prop plane.

At this small airport there was no such thing as baggage claim. Baggage handling meant you carried your own bags to the plane's cargo hold and hoisted them inside.

Despite having seat assignments, there was the usual Russian push-and-shove match to climb the metal ladder into the plane. The entry way to the cabin had a wooden floor and the cabin floor was plywood with a carpet thrown over it. The seats were worn (read: really worn) with their springs and supports long past their useful life. We flooped into our seats (permanantly reclined), buckled our lap belts and defended our ears against the roar of the propellers as they spun into high gear and we readied for take off.

One of the emergency exit was located directly to John's left shoulder. This was a small consolation considering it was blocked by two seats and to open it, it had to be pulled forward. There were no life vests or cabin pressure masks. The runway was short and the pilot ran the engines to high speed with his foot on the brakes. When he released them, we sped down the pavement like we were propelled by the force of a wound rubber-band. We were airborne.

Despite the continuous loud hum and vibration of the engines, the flight was fine. The scenery consisted of marshes, lakes, snow-capped mountains. It was awesome. We circled for fifteen minutes higher and higher to gain altitude and we settled back for our 1 hour 45 minute flight to Irkutsk. And they said it couldn't be done.