​In April/May 1994 I was fortunate enough to live for a few days in the remote Siberian village of Port Baikal which lies at the very bottom of Lake Baikal, the largest fresh water lake in the world, close to its outflow into the Angara River. It had fallen into decline after the ferries that used to close the gap between the two sections of the Trans Siberian Railway, closed down.  

​​On Easter Day the villagers would collect in their extended family groups and walk out along the disused railway branch line and then into the forest to have communal picnics. 















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Each family had a ‘camp’ of tables and seats made from the birch trees. A fire was lit, for tea making and potato baking, and a feast was laid on of painted eggs, Easter Cakes, salad, bread and chicken; washed down with lots of vodka (downed in one) and biriosarisok, which is birch sap. As much a celebration of Spring as of Easter, the sap is collected by cutting a branch on the birch tree and collecting the flowing clear sap in a bottle. 















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​Bright and cold, we watched the ice flows go by as they made their way out of the lake and into the river. An unique experience made special by the setting, the kind and friendly people and the food. 


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