Banging Our Heads Against The Chinese Wall

As I write this I am sitting in a rooftop ger in Ulan Bator. We were trying to keep the blog somewhat chronological, but between having bad or no internet connections we have not been so successful.   (And that is ok, no one wants their trip to be dictated by a blog!)

My original plan was to ignore my physical reality and just write up a bunch of auto-posts so people can have some idea, albeit a delayed version thereof, our exploits. But I am abandoning the idea. I will still back track a little in the future, but for now we have a little real time news. 

(This is mostly in order to stop people from scratching their heads and going, huh, whaaa, they did what, she is where???  but I thought...)

Our original plan was to ride our motorcycles (Betty and Wilma, two BMW F 650 GSs) across Russia, to Vladivostok, and from there we would either ship to South America, or we would go to Korea and then ship to South America. From there we would ride up to Newfoundland where we would drink a beer with family and friends, and I could squish my nieces and nephews.

Plans change. (The how's and why's of sacrificing to the motorcycle gods,  I am saving for my Chasing Summer article.  But as that may not be out for  a month or more, a short summary of what is presently running through our heads I will provide here!)

As the quotes to ship our bikes began to roll in our hearts sunk deeper and deeper into despair. From Vladivostok we would need to rent an entire container.  To the tune of thousands per motorcycle.  Even if we could fill the container with other bikes, the price was still thousands per motorcycle. We were ok with the low 2000 range when it was 700 to get to Korea, then another 1200 to get to Chile, because we planned to ride for 3 weeks in Korea before shipping.

But

And there is always a big but,  German (along with Croatian) vehicles are not allowed in Korea.  Temporary import or not. Yes Patrick rode his bike there 6 years.  Pure luck. If you are lucky then you get through.  If not then your bike goes on bonded trucks, your out another couple hundred (at least) and for that money you do not even get to ride!

So what are we to do?

IF China allowed bikes in we could ride in China. But at 300 dollars a day for a guide (but that can be split between as many group members as you wish. But even if we had 10 other bikers with us it would be too much!) not only is the price insane, it also takes away from all the freedom of riding your bike in the first place.

We then looked at buying a bike in China. We thought that perhaps the problem was just foreign vehicles,  as foreigners do ride bikes there, why not us?

Well, it would appear everyone rides in various degrees of legality, few with any real legal status, and most rely on the kindness (or the indifference) of the local police. We are still looking into it, but the fact that others say you can do it, does not mean we will do it.  Neither of us have any real interest in seeing the insides of a Chinese prison, even as a “scare tactic” that would not last longer than a few days. (I'll own it, I shit my pants just thinking about it.)

So what are we to do?

Chasing summer is still on the table.  Instead of South America we are looking into New Zealand, as we can buy a bike there for what we would have paid to ship ours.

That means selling Betty and Wilma.

We are also meeting my parents in Thailand in November. That got us thinking.  And looking into online forums. Perhaps instead of South America we could ride South East Asia.  Six – seven months in paradise on earth, surely there could be worse fates for us?

This would mean selling Betty and Wilma, and instead of buying 650 ccs, we would go for 125 ccs, maybe even go for a Scooter, we did a scooter in Cuba and it was awesome!

There would be no thinking if it was not for China! Then we would simply ride our bikes through China, into Laos, cruise Laos, Cambodia and Thailand, and ship out from there!

But the Chinese Wall shuts out the whole of Asia to our bikes.

The plan is still to ride home however, only now we stay on the other side  of the world while we wait for Spring to hit the United States, where we plan on buying new bikes and riding onwards to Newfoundland. We are not willing to become backpackers, just an exchange of wheels!

Where we still plan to drink beer however, and squish nieces and nephews, as well as chew on Ms Q's baby! As Shaq, the best dog ever, would have told you, it is not so easy to escape my love! If we can not go through the wall, we will just go around it!

Posted via email from Unleash Your Adventure

Banging Our Heads Against The Chinese Wall

As I write this I am sitting in a rooftop ger in Ulan Bator. We were trying to keep the blog somewhat chronological, but between having bad or no internet connections we have not been so successful.   (And that is ok, no one wants their trip to be dictated by a blog!)

My original plan was to ignore my physical reality and just write up a bunch of auto-posts so people can have some idea, albeit a delayed version thereof, our exploits. But I am abandoning the idea. I will still back track a little in the future, but for now we have a little real time news. 

(This is mostly in order to stop people from scratching their heads and going, huh, whaaa, they did what, she is where???  but I thought...)

Our original plan was to ride our motorcycles (Betty and Wilma, two BMW F 650 GSs) across Russia, to Vladivostok, and from there we would either ship to South America, or we would go to Korea and then ship to South America. From there we would ride up to Newfoundland where we would drink a beer with family and friends, and I could squish my nieces and nephews.

Plans change. (The how's and why's of sacrificing to the motorcycle gods,  I am saving for my Chasing Summer article.  But as that may not be out for  a month or more, a short summary of what is presently running through our heads I will provide here!)

As the quotes to ship our bikes began to roll in our hearts sunk deeper and deeper into despair. From Vladivostok we would need to rent an entire container.  To the tune of thousands per motorcycle.  Even if we could fill the container with other bikes, the price was still thousands per motorcycle. We were ok with the low 2000 range when it was 700 to get to Korea, then another 1200 to get to Chile, because we planned to ride for 3 weeks in Korea before shipping.

But

And there is always a big but,  German (along with Croatian) vehicles are not allowed in Korea.  Temporary import or not. Yes Patrick rode his bike there 6 years.  Pure luck. If you are lucky then you get through.  If not then your bike goes on bonded trucks, your out another couple hundred (at least) and for that money you do not even get to ride!

So what are we to do?

IF China allowed bikes in we could ride in China. But at 300 dollars a day for a guide (but that can be split between as many group members as you wish. But even if we had 10 other bikers with us it would be too much!) not only is the price insane, it also takes away from all the freedom of riding your bike in the first place.

We then looked at buying a bike in China. We thought that perhaps the problem was just foreign vehicles,  as foreigners do ride bikes there, why not us?

Well, it would appear everyone rides in various degrees of legality, few with any real legal status, and most rely on the kindness (or the indifference) of the local police. We are still looking into it, but the fact that others say you can do it, does not mean we will do it.  Neither of us have any real interest in seeing the insides of a Chinese prison, even as a “scare tactic” that would not last longer than a few days. (I'll own it, I shit my pants just thinking about it.)

So what are we to do?

Chasing summer is still on the table.  Instead of South America we are looking into New Zealand, as we can buy a bike there for what we would have paid to ship ours.

That means selling Betty and Wilma.

We are also meeting my parents in Thailand in November. That got us thinking.  And looking into online forums. Perhaps instead of South America we could ride South East Asia.  Six – seven months in paradise on earth, surely there could be worse fates for us?

This would mean selling Betty and Wilma, and instead of buying 650 ccs, we would go for 125 ccs, maybe even go for a Scooter, we did a scooter in Cuba and it was awesome!

There would be no thinking if it was not for China! Then we would simply ride our bikes through China, into Laos, cruise Laos, Cambodia and Thailand, and ship out from there!

But the Chinese Wall shuts out the whole of Asia to our bikes.

The plan is still to ride home however, only now we stay on the other side  of the world while we wait for Spring to hit the United States, where we plan on buying new bikes and riding onwards to Newfoundland. We are not willing to become backpackers, just an exchange of wheels!

Where we still plan to drink beer however, and squish nieces and nephews, as well as chew on Ms Q's baby! As Shaq, the best dog ever, would have told you, it is not so easy to escape my love! If we can not go through the wall, we will just go around it!

Posted via email from Unleash Your Adventure

Novosibirsk, John, & A Vegetarian's Kryptonite

We burned it from Chelyabinsk to Novosibirsk.  Or brief flirtation with a stop over in Omsk was destroyed by weather that looked like this:

That led to one particularly muddy session after wild camping:

where Patrick has to rescue all 3 bikes:

(And yes, I cackle like a witch.)

When we arrived in Novosibirsk we were greeted by John, a friend of Patrick's from his first world trip. We spent a couple of days with him, and we spent a Sunday grilling Shashlik  next to the river.

I studied Environmental Protection and I read Eating Animals, between animal cruelty and environmental destruction, I try not to eat a lot of meat.  In fact, I want to give it up completely. But then chunks of grilled meat that are sizzled to perfection are laid in front of me and I become a drooling cave man.

 

Shaslick, it could break the strictest vegetarian.

Posted via email from Unleash Your Adventure

Novosibirsk, John, & A Vegetarian's Kryptonite

We burned it from Chelyabinsk to Novosibirsk.  Or brief flirtation with a stop over in Omsk was destroyed by weather that looked like this:

That led to one particularly muddy session after wild camping:

where Patrick has to rescue all 3 bikes:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/gypsyprincess/5939658058/in/set-72157626976489571 http://www.flickr.com/photos/gypsyprincess/5939110111/in/set-72157626976489571/

(And yes, I cackle like a witch.)

When we arrived in Novosibirsk we were greeted by John, a friend of Patrick's from his first world trip. We spent a couple of days with him, and we spent a Sunday grilling Shashlik  next to the river.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/gypsyprincess/5953410350/in/set-72157626976489571 http://www.flickr.com/photos/gypsyprincess/5952867347/in/set-72157626976489571 I studied Environmental Protection and I read Eating Animals, between animal cruelty and environmental destruction, I try not to eat a lot of meat.  In fact, I want to give it up completely. But then chunks of grilled meat that are sizzled to perfection are laid in front of me and I become a drooling cave man.

 

Shaslick, it could break the strictest vegetarian.

Posted via email from Unleash Your Adventure

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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Naked With Strange Russian Men

The guy on the left is Konstantine, the guy in the middle is the kidnapper, and the other guy is an Ukrainian who, along with 5 others, disappeared for a 4 hours to hunt mini lobsters.  We feared they had drowned.

 

For the full story you need to check out Friendly Kidnapping: A Russian Pastime

 

 

 

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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.