Roundabouts From Hell

    I love Russia.  I love the language (despite a complete inability to speak it), I love the food (mostly at least, there are still the occasional moments where I go WTF as I stare in dismay at whatever it was I ordered) and I love the people. From the random kindness of strangers (no where else have I been given so many random presents, particularly of gingerbread, or my personal favorite, the guy in the bacco type thing in the picture below jumped out to give me an apple that he proudly declared to have come from his backyard) to meeting with people like Anna (from the previous post) and John and Stas, friends of Patrick's from his first world trip.

    But no relationship is perfect. Russia is not without flaws.  I am not about to complain about the usual list of Russia's faults, as on this trip we have experienced none of them.  The police have not looked for any little presents for no other reason than we drive foreign motorcycles, the customs agents have not only been efficient, but flat out nice, even going so far as to smile at us and wish us a good trip (one even waved!), and the roads, well, the roads are not that bad.  I would not recommend driving at night, but then I  do not drive at night in Germany either. 

    No, what I do not love, what I can not bring myself to even care for, or to understand their very existence, are the roundabouts from hell.

    Roundabouts should eliminate the need for traffic lights.  So when I approach one that is in fact regulated by a traffic light system I want to smack my head a couple of times.  Or at least I used to.  Now I just thank the Goddess that there is some obvious system, because unlike other countries, where one rule dictates roundabout use, in Russia it would appear that each roundabout has its own rules. Sometimes the people in the circle have the right away, sometimes the people entering, and sometimes it depends on which part of the roundabout you are entering, as some even have a semi-circle on the sign which I can only take to mean that if you want to go straight, and there is a roundabout in your way, you have permission to run over any and all in your way.

    Me, I have taken to entering them with my eyes closed.  It makes no difference to my actual maneuvering in the roundabout, but it does let me avoid seeing how many near collusions I have. (Honking of the horn means nothing in Russia, it can mean get the fuck out of my way, but most of the time it means 6 arms are hanging out of a window and giving you the thumbs up and they want you to notice them. That you thought you had once again misunderstood the etiquette of the roundabout means nothing, or that you almost crashed your bike in an effort to avoid an imaginary collusion is just added entertainment value).

This, I have no idea what this was:

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Chelyabinsk! Bless you!

I started this post last week. We spent 4 nights and 3 days on the island Olchon in Lake Baikal.  I wanted to write a series of posts that I could then autopost once I had Internet again. But I was simultaneously writing my next two articles for my Chasing Summer column, and I ran out of battery, so I only managed to get the following 2 paragraphs written:

    My friends are awesome. When my status update on Facebook was merely “Chelyabinsk” I got two reactions: one was the title of this post, and the other “xyctzusbsjnj!  See I can punch the keyboard too!” Followed by “Just joking, how is Russia?” When I read comments like that I always feel a pang of homesickness.  I miss my friends, both the ones that are in both my homes, (Newfoundland and Germany) as well as the ones scattered around the world.

     It is what I call part of the curse of travel. As fantastic as it is, you are never completely happy in any one place again. I will be in downtown Stuttgart missing Suzanne, at my favorite coffee shop in St. John's and wish Caroline or Aimee could be there, and then in the middle of Siberia wishing I could introduce Anna to Daniela or Erisa. Travel has brought so many wonderful people into my life, I get greedy and want to keep them!

    My next intention was to finish this in Irkutsk, where we planned to stay overnight and get our Russian registration completed for our second entry into Russia.  When I logged into my email I got horrific news.  One of my dear friends had been run over by a drunk on a motorcycle in South East Asia.  She was there working on her Masters. She is simply a wonderful and fantastic person.  Horrible things happen to good people all the time.  But when it happens to someone you love, you forget the randomness of nature and try to figure out how it could happen to someone the world needs. She is a fighter though, and we believe that though the call was close, she will pull through.  But until she does it is a horrible waiting game.

Beer In Samara

Our days were spent in the fair city of Samara enjoying the use of free wi fi at the hostel. With the temperature hovering at 40 degrees Celsius (sometimes 38, but sometimes 42), even without our full gear I was afraid of doing a witch of the west impression. Add to that that we had also been almost a full week without Internet, and staying inside and having an internet day was not the worse of fates for us. ;-)

 

The early evening however, when everything cooled down, meant that we could venture about in comfort and enjoy strolling along the Volga river,

 

appreciating the church (which overlooked the parking lot where our bikes were parked)

and we could cool off with beer! Beer that was purchased at one Euro per liter, and was injected straight into our 5 liter bottle that awaited it, allowing the beer to complete the bottles reason for existing:

 

 

And making someone else incredibly happy as well:

I never saw him that happy again until his girlfriend arrived in Novosibirsk!

 

Me, I fell in love with the salty stringy cheese, that the German is seen above enjoying, that at first he had to push down my throat, me the entire time screaming about how disgusting it looked (and the fact it was just hanging there in the stall did not go far to endeavoring its case). One taste however and I became a cheese fiend!  Going so far as to snap at fingers that tried to pull a stringy piece of love off for themselves!

 

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JK Hostel In Samara, Just The Coolest Hostel Ever

Our ride into Samara was not planned. We had thought it would be better to stay at a pension or the like in the town prior to it, as we hoped to be able to avoid the traffic of another major Russian city. But the people of the town laughed at us when we asked for Internet. (Literally, we asked like 10 people, 3 ran away shaking their heads, 2 looked horrified at the prospect, and the other half laughed). Even the nice guys who gave us tea leaves they had just collected in the part, (insisting a little too adamantly that we were not to smoke them, just drink them) told us that if we needed internet we were to go to Samara.

Tea leaf family:

The traffic was as bad as anticipated, worse in fact. I wanted to grab a picture of the city sign for my friend Samara, but I valued my life a little too highly to stop. I also discovered I had no idea how to work Russian roundabouts, and the fact that Russians also have no idea how the round abouts worked did little to put my mind at ease over my inadequacy.

 

A quick search at an Internet cafe turned up JK Hostel, the one and only hostel in the city. They also had Internet, it was good enough for us. Turned out to be one of our best discoveries in Russia.

 

We pulled up in front of the door (a rather scary looking door in all honesty, that promised nothing good inside) to be greeted with a cry of “ Are you a friend of Peter??? Will you be staying with us?” Turns out that there was a Dutch biker staying there, and the overlap was pure coincidence. But what Peter had discovered and we were about too was Samara's best kept secret.

 

Through the dodgey door and up the creepy stairs led to a hostel of absolute luxury. Everything was brand new, the dining room and kitchen amazing and the bathroom had a shower that I did not want to come out from.

Not your normal hostel shower:

Dining room:

But perhaps the best part were the owners themselves. A wealth of information on where to find the best beer (next post), and best restaurants in town, rather than feeling like we were paying guests I felt like we were staying with friends, except friends who did not mind when you spent the entire day on the Internet.

 

Creepy door but coolest hostel owners ever:

 

 

If you are in Samara, with or without your bike, I can not recommend this place highly enough! And they are biker friendly!!!

 

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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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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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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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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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