For Our German Readers (Or Those Who Just Want To Look At Pictures!)

This is auto-posted, so if your comments have not been approved, or your emails unanswered, it is because I posted this when I had Internet, not that I am ignoring you! We are heading into Mongolia and I imagine Internet will be fewer and farer between! But I wanted to post something for next week at least!

This is an email from Jannick that he sent his family.  It summarizes everything up to Chelyabinsk. If you can not read German you can still look at the pictures!

Ciao,

 

vielleicht nimmt es dich ja wunder, was wir die ganze Zeit so machen. Darum schreibe ich einmal die interessantesten Erlebnisse.

Zu aller erst, waren wir ja 2 Wochen in der Toskana, in dem kleinen Dörfchen namens Marina di Castagneto Carducci. Ein toller Abschluss, da die komplette Familie, also auch die 2 Omas, die Kinder und der Mann meiner Schwester, mein Cousin, eine Tante, der Freund meiner anderen Schwester und zum aller besten auch Anina „leider ein bisschen zu kurz“, alle beisammen in einer Finca, die in 3 Wohnungen unterteilt ist, wohnten. Die älteren Damen durften die Vorteile des Hotels nutzen.

Volgograd: Insane & Yet Awesome

Russia, we are told, is cold and freezing. Coming from Canada however, where it is also suppose to be cold and permanently blanketed in snow, I liked to think I had some inkling as to what I would be in for. As cold as winter is, summer tends to match it.  Minus 30 something in winter? Embrace plus 30 in the summer.  Volgograd and the surrounding region still managed to knock my feet out from under me. Plus 42 and in full bikers gear. You could feel the sweat running down your legs into your boots.

The boys wanted to swim in the Volga, the North American in me screamed NO at the thought of what is actually dumped in the river. (We have since been told it is safe, yet, I do not regret my decision in the least)  :-P

Riding into a giant city in this heat is anything but an ideal biking paradise. Yet I was shocked.  Yes, the heat was insane, almost unbearable at times. And the movement of traffic appeared to follow the unspoken rules of children playing dinkies rather than following any type of logic.  However (and up until this point no other city in Russia has followed this), the cars would break to let me follow the boys as they zipped and zigged through the city.

Some even hung out the window to scream "otkooda??" (My horrible phonetic rendition of the Russian question "where are you from"), and it was here that I learned a loud honk of the horn is not cause to crash your bike, but rather someone wants to give you the thumbs up sign as they cruise by you.

We did not stop in the city, but wild camped shortly afterwards. We then rode out to the truck stop cafe on the side of the road, where we ordered breakfast and spent about an hour talking with the owners there.  Once again when we tried to pay and they refused, saying that we had entertained them, and pushing the matter seemed to only result in anger on their part. I really love this country, the people are wonderful, and the landscape amazing!

 

 

 

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Volgograd: Insane & Yet Awesome

Russia, we are told, is cold and freezing. Coming from Canada however, where it is also suppose to be cold and permanently blanketed in snow, I liked to think I had some inkling as to what I would be in for. As cold as winter is, summer tends to match it.  Minus 30 something in winter? Embrace plus 30 in the summer.  Volgograd and the surrounding region still managed to knock my feet out from under me. Plus 42 and in full bikers gear. You could feel the sweat running down your legs into your boots.

The boys wanted to swim in the Volga, the North American in me screamed NO at the thought of what is actually dumped in the river. (We have since been told it is safe, yet, I do not regret my decision in the least)  :-P

Riding into a giant city in this heat is anything but an ideal biking paradise. Yet I was shocked.  Yes, the heat was insane, almost unbearable at times. And the movement of traffic appeared to follow the unspoken rules of children playing dinkies rather than following any type of logic.  However (and up until this point no other city in Russia has followed this), the cars would break to let me follow the boys as they zipped and zigged through the city.

Some even hung out the window to scream "otkooda??" (My horrible phonetic rendition of the Russian question "where are you from"), and it was here that I learned a loud honk of the horn is not cause to crash your bike, but rather someone wants to give you the thumbs up sign as they cruise by you.

We did not stop in the city, but wild camped shortly afterwards. We then rode out to the truck stop cafe on the side of the road, where we ordered breakfast and spent about an hour talking with the owners there.  Once again when we tried to pay and they refused, saying that we had entertained them, and pushing the matter seemed to only result in anger on their part. I really love this country, the people are wonderful, and the landscape amazing!

 

 

 

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Rainy Rides & Russian Gas Stations

One would think the combination of the above two things would be something of a horror story. If the overall experience of overland motorcycle riding makes riding in the rain worth it in the long run, for the most part a rainy ride is something you want to avoid and drives you to take shelter if at all possible.

 

Russians are wonderfully warm and open hearted people, EXCEPT when required to work in the service industry. If Germany is a service desert, purchasing anything in Russia is an exercise in masochism.

 

Shortly after leaving Marina and her family our ride went from sunshine to rain, and our only point of shelter was the gas station. We decided to inject caffeine into our veins, as coffee makes everything more bearable.

 

The gas attendant brought us our coffees, and when I attempted to pay he flat out refused our money. He then brought us out Snickers. And chips. And a second round of coffees. Then when he discovered I was from Canada he called his sister in Canada (on his mobile phone) to ask her if we needed help with anything. (I do not even want to think about his phone bill). Then when we refused to anything else he filled a bag with more chocolate and chips and forced it onto the motorcycles.

 

As I write this I am terribly behind in the blog, this occurred the same day we left Marina, but the rest of the trip has been the same. The only thing we seem to have to worry about is being killed with kindness and being overfed.

 

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If You Prefer Our Adventures Edited For Grammar....

When my friend Hans asked if I would be interested in writing a column in The Independent about the trip in my answer was a resounding yes. The only thing more fun than travel is writing about it, and if people will actually read it the thrill is even greater.  It also helps keep me occupied while riding, instead of talking to myself inside my helmet I am trying to organize my thoughts into articles as well as blog posts. (Except when I see goats, I still tend to squeal and then sigh in disappointment that there is no one to turn to and exclaim over cuteness with!)

So it should be a biweekly, slightly more focused, and certainly a more grammatically correct, retelling of our adventures. But this blog will still have the random and everyday experiences. Promise.

The first article:

From Backpacker To Biker Chick

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Destination: Marina & The Russian Black Sea Coast!

After leaving the Crimea we crossed over to Russia with the ferry. Despite a total time of 5 hours on the two borders, the procedure of leaving the Ukraine and entering Russia was relatively painless. Except of course for the heat. In plus 30 degrees weather our already questionable hygiene was further undermined as we found no shelter from the sun in the line ups. Our goal was Gelendzhik where the ever lovely Marina awaited us. The so lovely she even let me hug her despite the fact I had not showered in 3 days and had in fact, not changed my clothes in that same amount of time.  (Except for my underwear, they get changed everyday, a luxury I allow myself!)

In a reversal of roles (that I am beginning to understand is rather Russian), Marina and her family refused to accept any type of gift from us, but instead showered us with presents instead. Including sailor hats for the boys, who could not have been prouder of themselves, and they even insist on wearing them whenever we venture out in public without motorcycle gear.

Marina and her drunken sailors:

We did manage to convince Marina and her family to at least cook for them, and we exposed them to a delightful mix of Italian appetizers and Swiss Rösti for the main dish. 

We also drank wine from the region, but the family also demonstrated another aspect of Russia that we have yet to adjust to, NO ONE DRINKS! As I am writing this we have been in the country for almost a month, and we have yet to drink our first glass of vodka. A glass of wine, one glass of beer, perhaps two, but the stereotype of Russia as a land of drinkers has been tested and found wanting.

Despite an amazing itinerary that she had planned for us, one aspect we were not looking forward to was a date with the immigration police.  But alas, for that story you must wait! I'm saving it for much later! Instead I leave you with pictures of Marina's first bike ride, where I managed to give myself a black eye (please do not ask) and she became a bike convert!

Height of stupidity:

 

 

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Wild Camping In The Ukraine

Much like Romania, wild camping in the Ukraine has been no problem whatsoever.  In fact the one time we asked about paid camping the taxi driver looked at us as if we had 10 heads and told us to "just go into the woods and throw your tent down somewhere." Made cooler by his accent. The one time we had a problem it was our own fault.  The sky opened up and dumped a bucket of rain on us, and so we quickly grabbed a place and set up.  Only to discover the train tracks were one of a major train line, with trains running on average every 15- 20 minutes).  :-P

But it made for an awesome picture in the morning,(if not for a good night's sleep):

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Some Fav Pics From The Ukraine

A short visual summary of the Ukraine:

Just before camping in a field:

The picture our room displayed our first night in the Ukraine:

Soviet ice cream:

Camping in the Crimea:

Watch out for those clouds:

Map checking on the side of the road:

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Crossing Into The Ukraine

I love the Ukraine. (Ok, I love most places, it is why we travel. New people, new food, new landscapes, and few places have yet to disappoint). The one thing I do not love about the Ukraine is the police.  Our brief foray into the country a couple of years ago was cut short because we were stopped and harassed every single day. As such we decided to leave and try Romania instead. (And by doing so we discovered a biker's paradise). This time around we remained in Romania until the last possible minute, before rentering the Ukraine. I was looking forward to the food and the people, but not the police.

As it was we were given instant issues. Of the 3 people we dealt with in passport control, one decided that he did not like Jannick.  He even went so far as to say so.  He pointed at me and said "no problem", he pointed at Patrick and said "no problem", and then he looked at Jannick and said "YOU I do not like.  You think you are a viking." He then proceeded to keep us for the next 20 minutes while he tried every possible thing to make Jannicks life uncomfortable. Finally we were allowed to go.

The moral of the story? Do not pack an axe. Or if you are going to do so, bury it rather than attaching it just under the cover of your metal boxes.  It makes border officials nervous.

 

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Europe, my lovely Europe!

I must admit I love Europe. Point your bike in any direction and a couple of hours later you find yourself in a different country with different people, a different language, different landscape, different yummy food and culture. But there is none of the drawbacks of changing countries. Hurray for the European Union and its Schengen treaty!

No border crossing hassles. You don't have to stay in the baking sun for hours waiting in the border line up. There are no intimidating questions making you feel you have done something terrible. There are no 15 stamps you need to collect from an army of border control people. No bribes or uh sorry, no so called 'fees'. There is just a sign somewhere “welcome to …” (Good for taking a picture). What you miss of course are the nice stamps in the passport ;-)

No money hassle, be it the currency exchangers “good price for you my friend” or the left over money.

Good, beautiful roads and safe countries.

Our trip is still young but we have seen 5 countries so far and no border crossing.
But now its time to move on. Europe's East is waiting and the the endless Asian plains :-) And the border crossings of course!

 

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Changing Money In Romania

Romania may be part of the EU but it is not part of the Euro currency zone. As such we found ourselves in more or less the middle of nowhere with no cash and no place willing to take credit cards. When we found an open bank we rejoiced that we could get some cash and proceeded to stand in line up for 20 minutes in 30 degrees Celsius heat. When it was finally my turn I produced my sweat soaked bills and passport and the guy typed in my information before looking at me with a stricken face.

Dude: Have you ever changed money here before.

Me: no

Dude: Are you a customer

Me: No

Dude starts to look panicked.This is not what he wants on a hot and dusty afternoon, a sweaty biker who has obviously not showered in 2 or 3 days who wants to change her money and had spent the day riding in mud.

He then explains to me that I need to be a customer to change money at the bank.  Did I want to go through that process. When I declared yes I did he took on the look of a hunted animal.

Dude:  It will take a very long time to open this account for you.

Me: Fine, whatever, do you know where the next bank actually is?

Dude: I can change the money for you under the name of another customer instead if you like. And he offers me the biggest smile of the day.

Me: oooookaaaay, if you can do that.

Inside my head I was thinking I must have lived in Germany for far too long because that just seems dodgey to me.

Patrick slimes his way in to see what is taking so long, and when I told him the above story he confirmed my German take on things by making a strange sound. Dude must have understood what this sound meant, because he then beamed at Patrick and declared "No worries, I just used the account of my colleague instead."

I wish I was able to record the look on Patrick's face.  Sadly I think the whole story may only truly be appreciated by my banking students in Germany.

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Romania: Wild Camping and Guys With Guns

After a mad dash through 5 countries we drastically slowed down in Romania, if for no other reason than the roads demanded it

(And perhaps a slight roadside temper tantrum on the side of the road in Hungary may have helped, burning through countries is not really my style. Going slow and relaxing in amazing outdoor thermal baths and swimming pools are.)

Romania is one of my favorite countries to motorcycle in, particularly Transylvania in the Carpathians, although the love is spoiled slightly when you come across litter dumped in places which otherwise would be a picture perfect spot. I say litter because after Albania I can not say garbage without imagining an honest dump next to a beach.

We have yet to see anything so extreme in Romania.

One of the best parts about Romania is the ability to wild camp where you wish.  Unlike in Germany where unsanctioned fun is strictly verboten, Romanians take a more laid back approach. As long as you appear to be hurting no one they smile and wave, perhaps ask a question or two, and then move on with their business.

Our first night was an interesting exception. We set up camp in a field, and before we knew it a car was bouncing down the hill and pulled up in front of us.  2 guys (one with a rifle) pop out, see that we are motorcycle travelers, wish us "Bon Appettie" and "please make sure you do not set the field of fire" and they burn off again.

Jannick had some concerns about them coming back. I did not worry about them at all, but why they felt they need a rifle to begin with was more of a concern for me.  But I kept that thought to myself. The night passed without incident however, except for a most delicious BBQ.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/gypsyprincess/5862499559/in/set-72157626903769005/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/gypsyprincess/5863050560/in/set-72157626903769005/

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A Brief Visual Summary

Long time no write! In the 3 weeks since we left Italy we have covered 6000 kms and we are now in Samara, Russia. Our route is a little more zig zagged then originally planned but it has been nothing short of awesome.  Today it is melting hot along the Volga and so we are taking the day to do all our internet stuff and the evening will be spent exploring. I am going to write up the events of the past few weeks and then use the nifty post option to publish the posts over the next couple of days. That way there should be some more regular posting even if I do not have the internet access to do so! (That also means if I am not ignoring your email even if posts are going up, I did it all today! Waha!)

 

The first couple of days were more or less just riding, my pictures total perhaps 50 for 5 countries. So a few of my favs, before the trip reports start!

 

 

 

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