of our stay in Irkutsk, I've already talked plenty here and I will not repeat . I like only to emphasize the feeling of loss of contact with the rest of the world, of being in a place so far from the usual destinations. In a land, on the whole poor human presence, this is concentrated all in a few places, as if to create a fortress to protect themselves from a nature where looming, all-encompassing, not so friendly for the truth. Temperatures shocking for most of the immensity boundless forests that surround you to miss the absence of identifying marks, soil, cement ice for a few days a year turns into a sticky mud covered with clouds of ferocious mosquitoes and small, make these areas difficult a living for those who had the good fortune to be occurred by chance or by force. The lake is huge, surrounded by territory that is outside of the local players only know of Risk, the Yakuzja, Chita, the Buriazija are remote names that recall solitary trappers of the great north. The adventures of Jack London in search of mammoth skeletons buried in permafrost. The reality is that more and more prosaic, less poetic. On the plate ice covering the lake, nearly four feet thick, they passed the truck on a track about eighty miles long crossing from one bank to another. From the top of the hill the line of the convoy of vehicles that went to the east seemed a cohort of black ants moving away slowly. The large pool, water reservoir of humanity, is really devastated by huge complex for the production of aluminum and paper mills that exploit the huge forests of the north, polluting the water as I could. But everything that happens in almost six hundred miles farther up the coast and the southern lake, small marinas where vessels seemed to float on the ice, you feel the grip of pollution and small settlements of low wooden huts seemed part of the landscape, with small wisps of smoke coming out from chimneys just emerging from the snow. We had to drink, complacent condescension, a glass of pure water lake, taken directly from a fishing hole in the ice clear of the harbor, under which you could see a bicycle and other debris thrown during the brief Siberian summer. All'Univermag we went into town, but the shortage of goods was heavy, and few customers were queuing in front of counters from the shelves desolately empty. It was only a well-stocked section of cucumbers and the slippers made of hair. I bought a large number to make gifts, even if in that month were available only measure 37. The hotels were infested with young ladies eager to make ends meet, which was hard to shake, since the alleged customers increasingly rarefied. This merchant's always looking for females on which to vent his instincts, should be settled thousands of years. Think it also speaks at length the proper Marco Polo in the Million, a true merchant's Lonely Planet travel, which indicates precisely the areas and countries where girls are more pleasing or dates of availability by the same husbands are happy to promote the foreign bringer of wealth . Illustrates the Venetian, in detail, indicating the type of gift even more pleasing, usually pins or various joys of which merchant to provvedevasi the need and describes situations in which young people less desirable and therefore could show exhibited in the hair or on clothes, gifts received less, and were difficult to place. The fact is that those who want to get rid of this annoying if not required, the service, they must devise strategies to keep quiet, waiting for other prey that tigers are thirsty come to water. Yeah, appssionati for the topic, I told the boomerang here, point out only one other case in which sympathetic showing random photos where our good Zhenija was shaved to zero, we qualified as inventors and holders of the unique secret formula of a product for a complete hair regrowth. The fluentissima and rich foliage that exhibited at our time, that was the reason that led him in our road map to better place the product. Spiegone This, combined with the kind offer of a glass of Amaretto, served to permanently remove the beggars, attracted also by the arrival of a group of ruddy German manager. But it was also time to leave the ice to return to Irkutsk to Moscow to take stock of the situation back home. Siberia, boundless illuminated by the sun, shining ten thousand feet below, like a carpet of pearl, silver niello engravings of the frozen rivers. Infinite time to fly over absolutely nothing, yet when we arrived, after seven hours di deserto bianco, era passata solo un'ora, Miracoli del fuso.
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