Hey Gang,
Well, it's been just over 24 hours in Irkutsk, and I can honestly say I'm definitely feeling better already. By no means 100% (maybe 80 or 85), but considerably less achey, nose has mostly dried up, throat's a lot less sore, and the sweating & violent shivering were not nearly so intense this eve as last.
I'm not completely certain, but am pretty sure that my trip to Irkutsk from Monterey is the furthest I've traveled- by plane or otherwise- in one fall swoop. At least that's what my body's been telling me. I find it rather batty that ticket costs for flying east (through New York & Moscow) is literally half of what they would be to go west (via Beijing & Ulan Bator) even though the distance for the latter's much shorter. Hmm...that's actually something I'd like to look up- comparing the distance between crossing the Atlantic & crossing the Pacific to get here. As a wild ass guess, I'd say I traveled 2/3 of the way around the globe this way, as opposed to 1/3 the other. Granted, there's changes in latitudes to take into consideration, and going polar from NYC to Moscow, but all you need due is look at a map to know that the two routes are not equi-distant.
Well, I'll have to double check at an internet cafe, or somewhere a bit quicker than it is here. Nice to have internet available from the house, though, even if it operates at a snail's pace. With my jetlag, it's a good way to stay occupied and away from shuffling around in the bedroom where everyone else is sleeping. During the summer months, GBT uses this flat as a hostel, but during the year, it's more like a dormitory for students and young professionals here on contracted assignments & the like. Apart from living with 6 other people (though there are 16 beds) in a two bedroom flat, it's a nice little place in a great location. If push came to shove, I could live in an arrangement like this for a few months for work. No privacy, mixed rooms, etc, but it's really not that big a deal. Unless you're an exceptionally vociforous masturbator or snorer, or suffer severely from some gastrointestinal disorder or other, then chances are, your nighttime habits aren't much different than anybody else's, and no one much cares what you do.
There's also a darling little furry, long-eared friend called Krosh who patters about the place at night, testing for anything new, interesting or edible with his whiskers as he goes. I've engaged him a few times and he seems fond enough of me- a good sign that he's been well-loved and cared for his whole life through. Granted, our interactions are quite simple- unlike a cat or dog, with a rabbit there are sizable limitations on the intellectual connections to be formed. Perhaps that's not a bad way to be- the ultimate "Simple Life." A small herbivore whose greatest protection against predators is its superpowerful ability to procreate en mass and keep its genes safe & sound, if not its own fluffy little body. It's probably just as well that rabbits aren't able to contemplate the meaning of their existence to a very high degree: while a pet rabbit will breed rarely if ever in its lifetime, it is also safely guarded away from all its natural pretadors...and yes, I have factored in the stereotypical response of "well, what if your guest chef is specifically trained in traditional French cuisine?" I've got no statistics handy (and don't really plan on looking for these ones any time soon), but I can only assume that such a culinary master would most likely be able to distinguish a beloved pet in a spacious hutch with toys & a name-tag from tonight's main entree. Perhaps they're required to take a weekend workshop at culinary school about the role of animals as pets & food in different cultures across the globe. They've invested far too much in their education to end a career abruptly and insidiously by such a fatal mistake.
52 degrees North. That's where I'm at. And this is almost as far south as it gets in interior Russia (i.e. Sochi & Vladivostok don't count). I've been in a stuporous daze pretty much since I got here, and spent most of yesterday semi-drugged with a wet towel on my forehead, waiting for the sun to set and stop overheating my mattress. Needless to say, that didn't happen till about 11 at night. Granted, it's not Petersburg here or anything, but it's approaching White Nights season even all the way down here. If I weren't so ill, I think I'd enjoy it--all the more time to be active & busy outside. As it is, I just pop another pill and put my sleeping mask back on. Maybe if my strength is up, I'll go out today. But I'll try & get some rest first =)
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