The lake Baikal
09 November 2018
Now that i’ve been catapulted in this magical, frozen in time world I’m feeling completely out of place.
Only two days ago i was playing shirtless on the rocks of my house, warmed by the cheerful sun of spring and today I am here, lost in a small village of Siberia, few kilometers north from Mongolia, turning in my sleeping bag.
Outside it’s still dark, but here inside it’s so hot that i’m sweating. All around me, an absurd silence almost makes my ears ringing.
Today has been tough. The athletes were forced to run fast to not freeze, and for me it has been really difficult to take pictures without taking off my gloves.
The wind whistled, raising in the air millions of small crystals that melted on the lenses of my camera whereas my skin clung to my cast-iron teleobjective. Everything it's so complicated up here!
Tomorrow we’ll return to the frozen lake, and the race will go on.
I'm not sleepy, so i turn on the front light to check the time: it's four o'clock in the morning but the sleep is still that of ten o'clock in the evening.
I take a quick peek at the battered thermometer outside of a dirty window: it’s 28° below zero.
The bathroom is outside and i need to use it, but i can’t find the courage to do it. I have no alternatives. I wear my down jacket and i go out.
A fairytale world surrounds me: everything is pure white and unspoilt!
I look up for a moment and a sky full of stars seems to fall down on me…. am i dreaming?
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