Ilya Borodenko

I've just been looking around the web and have re-realised how close to here the following lethal attempt was, in 2007. An anti-nuclear camp was attacked by armed fascists while people slept. Ilya Borodenko died from his injuries.

Irkutsk anti-fascist demo last year.

7 anarchists imprisoned in Belarus this month.

And from 2008, from Madrid:

"IN MEMORY OF THE RUSSIAN ANTIFASCISTS ASSASSINATED BY NEONAZIS

Olga Rukosyla was assassinated last October 8th in Irkutsk (Siberia). Two days after Feodor Filatov was killed in Moscow, and thus up to 71 fascist murders have happened along this year in Russia.

Other 268 people were seriously wounded in these brutal attacks, but the Russian authorities do not have any intention to stop these killers and to make them pay their crimes.

Olga was a child. She was 16 years old. Two weeks ago she lost her life because 3 neo-nazis decided to brutally beat her, to what she couldn't be recovered. Feodor was 27 and was stubbed with a knife the 10th of October by 4 neo-nazis who were waiting outside the door of his house to kill him by 7:30 in the morning.

Next November 11th it will be a year from the murder of Carlos Javier Palomino by a neo-nazi soldier. Us, his friends and comrades remember him and support the Russian comrades and their families.

We know they will be going through tough moments, but we want to show them our support and our force so the fight against racism and fascism doesn't decay.

THE BEST TRIBUTE, CONTINUE FIGHTING"

Audio for Siberian punk is available here.

Returning a tent and a rollmat.

Travelling through Autumn.

I didn't realise how early Autumn would appear here. It's going to be fantastic travelling back because now instead of just green against green, there will be reds and golds and all that diversity of autumn.
The larches were already yellow and dropping their needles in Mongolia, but crossing the border and getting to Chita really brought it home. These birch are from just above Chita, where I did some cross-country hiking to escape the city.

There's a chill in the air now in Irkutsk and I won't be going out again in just a T-shirt, perhaps for another 6 months or so ...

Autumn is also the season of good gigs and what I most look forward to in Newcastle. However, I am still dithering over whether or not to delay my ticket a few days in order to see a punk gig here.

Autumn is also mushroom season back home. To honour this, I bought some actually pretty fantastic mushroom-shaped biscuits on the chita-irkutsk train. I don't think I'll be home in time to do the annual mushroom hunts with Gordon Beakes, but I certainly look forward to an autonomous one.

Irkutsk Punk Rock

I was met off the train by Zach from the Baikal camp, which was lovely.
I was wearing my anarchy t-shirt, which I bought from a kiosk at chita station for two pound fifty. It meant I could not stink for a leg of the journey and also adds a cartoon realism to my travels.

We got on a tram up the hill, and a lad in front of me had drawn the anarchy circled A on his knapsack. He'd also written 'pank's not dead' on it. So missing our stop by 2, I made Zach ask him in russian if there was any punk rock gigs in Irkutsk. He had an interesting face, looked american indian or perhaps japanese, so i wondered if he was from one of the older native tribes near-wiped-out by the cossacks and vodka.

He took us to a downstairs basement bar to ask his mate behind the counter. This lad then phoned around, asking for underground and punk rock gigs. Apparently there's something on the 24th, but my ticket out of here is for the 22nd. I'm tempted to delay it, if this gig indeed does exist.

Anyway, thanks random people, and respect for wearing the circled A in country where that's enough to get you knifed. The chinese market here has seen a spate of arson recently - the latest perceived 'invaders' to target for intimidation. The telly's not sure if it's a mafia/protection racket thing or a clear-cut racist thing, but the gangs doing it are organised enough to have lookouts to send anyone with a camera packing when it happens.

And I'm proud to be a 34 year old wearing the kind of t-shirt i would have thought naff already at 14.

love
Mike

Ulan Ude one last time

From a Buddhist medical chart thingy, which I had to photograph covertly. Fantastic cartoons all over the old Mongolian-Buddhist world.


Lindon the archaeologist and Anna the artist, reading my cartoons. I would never have got round Ulan Ude's museum without them - you had to get the lights turned on in each room you wanted to go.




From Ulan Ude to Chita.

Chita Nothing

I'm in Chita now, back on the route of Kropotkin and Bakunin - although it's the Ingolda not the Amur river here which I somehow got confused. Now that I've come this far, I'm realising where all the big gaps are that I'm not going to fill.

If I ever come back this way, I will need to go to that Volcano in July (found a probable reference to it in Kropotkin's writing), and go further down the Amur, to Blagoveschensk and Khabarovsk etc..

But right here, now, is the furthest east and the furthest away from home I will be going. As of midnight, local time, I'll be starting my gradual return home. Plans are still to be fixed, abandoned travel companions to be looked out for, and the possibility of a shamanic island stop is still there. But I have a fixed date to be back in Copenhagen now, so I will have to decide what to skip and where to spend my few free days.

Irkutsk is the next stop (21st Sept), and the obvious main places to visit still are Bakunin and Kropotkins' homes in Moscow; and Kronstadt & Shlisselburg outside St Petersburg. One thing pretty definitely OFF the cards already is the slower, more expensive land route north out of Helsinki and round to Stockholm. The ferry straight across saves too much to be ignored. I could always say I did it and who would check up on me!

Here I am reading Dostoyevsky, looking for Decembrists' street, walking up the hill to leave offerings at the ovoos, and generally being a bit crap. Here are pictures from my walking tour of the centre:


Locations of the pics.

Post Office.

Oh those happy memories of stalingrad.

A feminist carwash.

And my comedy purchase at the station.

The border guards got her.

I've arrived safe and sound back in Russia and Ulan Ude, where I am now cleaning myself and waiting for the new day to dawn in England so I can pay for a train to Chita and the Amur river.

However, my companion did not make it over the border. She was forced to pack up her things, carry them off the train, and sit in a room with a guard while I was left outside on the platform feeling guilty and pretty useless.

For the rest of the journey I had no time for a chatty archaeologist who was probably really interesting, but wasn't someone I've spent the last month with, and so I just sat reading.

As a cartoonist vampire I did of course draw/write the story of Birke being thrown off the train (I will add it to this post when next I'm in an internet cafe), but when I started doing it I didn't realise it would end with her actually being sent back into Mongolia. I assumed that patience, flexibilty and money would get us through. But no, so just best wishes to you Birke and we will see who is first back in Irkutsk. Although I would love to meet you off the train with your tent and sleeping bag, I hope you beat me in the race, because it means your escape from Mongolia will be swifter.








Travis above the Pacific, John crossing northern China, Freya with the horses, and everyone else from the camp who is now dispersed and off, lots of love, and I will still see some of you before western europe gets me back...