Across the Urals

To make a long story short I eventually flew to Germany via Moscow and picked up a replacement disc in Heidelberg, returning to Ufa two days later. After nearly three weeks in Ufa I was ready to resume the journey:

My destination for the first day back on the road was supposed to have been Chelyabinsk, but I found myself at 1am in a banya in Yektarinburg drinking beer and eating smoked fish naked with two strangers some hundreds of kilometers from Chelyabinsk. After about two hours from Ufa I stopped at a cafe for lunch. I saw two other motorcycles there - they belonged to Sasha, 43, and Daniel who was my age, and who was riding with his girlfriend Olga. They were returning from a bike party and Daniel and Olga invited me to their home in Yektarinburg, it was some 400km away, and not on my route, but they promised that the road there would be beautiful so I decided to join them. It was beautiful, sunny day and Sasha knew a great route through the Urals. An incredible feeling to be riding a motorcycle on a sunny day through beautiful mountains with people who, even though you just met them, you know are good and that they are enjoying this as much as you are.


In Yektarinburg we stopped where the local bikers meet every night then went out to dinner before going back to Daniel's house. He lives with his parents, grandparents, Olga, and their 11 month old daughter in a beautiful house outside Yektarinburg with big gardens and a traditional wooden banya. The banya is an important part of Russian culture, and quite possibly their best invention.

A traveler's account from 1153:

"Wondrous to relate, I saw the land of the Slavs, and while I was among them, I noticed their wooden bathhouses. They warm them to extreme heat, then undress, and after anointing themselves with tallow, they take young reeds and lash their bodies. They actually lash themselves so violently that they barely escape alive. Then they drench themselves with cold water, and thus are revived. They think nothing of doing this every day, and actually inflict such voluntary torture on themselves. They make of the act not a mere washing but a veritable torment."

Olga left us boys to the banya and we sat around drinking beer, eating smoked fish, and swapping stories about motorcycle riding into the morning. I left late the next morning after a massive breakfast prepared by Olga. It is already clear that what I will remember most vividly about Russia are the many kind and warm people I've met.

The 1000km from Yektarinburg to Omsk was too much for one day so I spent the next night camping by the side of the road falling asleep to the sound of the Trans-Siberian train.The ride in to Omsk the following day was a nightmare, it started raining heavily and then took me nearly three hours to ride less than 20 miles because of traffic. It was a relief when I finally arrived at Anatoly's apartment. I had contacted Anatoly over three weeks earlier when I had originally expected to be passing through Omsk and had stayed in touch with him while in Ufa and he graciously offered to host me whenever I passed through. Anatoly is a fellow rider, and it was very nice to share riding stories with him - he has rode in India, Bali, and Malaysia and occasionally writes articles for Russian motorcycle magazines.

The next morning my first task was to identify the cause of an alarming sound from the front wheel that I had noticed just outside Omsk. With Anatoly's help it was quickly located – the “mechanics” in Ufa, where I had stored the bike and who had been so friendly, had insisted on replacing the disc themselves. They had neglected, however, to use thread lock and properly tighten the bolts on the front brake caliper and one of the two bolts had fallen out. Fortunately the second one was still in place, or I would have been looking for another front disc, or even worse not writing this!!

This was only the first of several problems that I had because of their work – to make it even worse they ridiculously overcharged me for something I could have easily done myself. I was too fed up with the whole ordeal to argue at the time, but I definitely learned my lesson to be careful about who works on the bike and to double check their work. Fortunately Anatoly had several bolts in the correct size and we were able to quickly replace the bolt and I was on my way to Novosibirsk.

In Novosibirsk I managed (with some difficulty) to meet up with my host Semen. I was actually getting quite frustrated on the phone because of the language barrier, Semen doesn't speak very much English, but he would turn out to be one of the friendliest and most hospitable people I've met. After meeting up he took me to try "New York" pizza, apparently some American opened a chain of pizza shops in Novosibirsk back in the 90s, let's just say I'm ready for a real NY slice!

After dinner we went back to Semen's apartment and had a second dinner. There were three Russians from Kazan returning from a two week hiking trip in the Altai mountains staying with Semen. Over a traditional Russian drink of vodka and honey they showed me some, the Altai looks very beautiful and I am looking forward to passing through this region on my way to Kazakhstan. Later we were joined by five more Russians from Tatarstan, they were passing through Krasnoyarsk in their car and Semen was hosting them too! I had planned to continue on the next day, but I needed a break and Semen was quite insistent that I see his city so I spent the day exploring Novosibirsk. It is the largest city in Siberia and the third largest in Russia, but not a very beautiful city to be honest. Went to the zoo and saw what I hope to be are the only Russian bears I meet on the trip:

Semen and his girlfriend were truly generous hosts, Semen was so worried I'd be cold in Mongolia and Kazakhstan that he gave me his winter jacket. I tried to refuse, but he wouldn't let me. As I write this several weeks later I can say that the jacket has already seen much use and is greatly appreciated!

I left Novosibirsk with the intention of riding the 800km to Krasnoyarsk in one day. It took me over an hour just to get out of Novosibirsk and it was almost midday by the time I was on the M53, the main road running across Siberia. Once again it rained off and on, and even though I was making good time it was clear I wouldn't be able to make it before nightfall. I normally never ride at night by choice, but I decided to continue rather than camp, arriving in Krasnoyarsk at nearly 11pm after an exhausting 13 hours on the bike. I met up with Wlad who rides a Yamaha 125 and who would be my host for two nights in Krasnoyarsk.

The next morning Wlad and I located the store where the tires I had ordered several months ago were waiting for me. Later in the day we took a ride south along a beautiful winding road to check out the Krasnoyarsk dam and the Yenisei River:

Sunday Wlad and I rode over to the garage of Yura, a friend of Wlad's and a motorcycle and car mechanic. Many Krasnoyarsk riders prefer to do most of the work on their bikes themselves and Yura lets them use his garage while acting as a consultant. He very graciously allowed me to use his garage and tools for free and I spent most of the day there doing routine maintenance – changing the oil, tires, cleaning the air filter etc. The bike also got a much needed bath, but as you'll see it wouldn't stay clean very long!

Two Weeks in Bashkiria

I left Kazan and made my way towards Ufa, the capital of Bashkortostan where I met up with my host Irina. My intention was to spend one night, little did I know my stay would be more than two weeks! I met Irina in the center of Ufa, she lived well outside the city and suggested we leave the motorcycle and go on a walking tour of the city before returning to her home. I was tired after a long day's ride, but wanted to have a chance to check out the city so I agreed. I left the bike outside a cafe and fatefully put the disc lock on the front wheel. Can't say why as I haven't used the lock since Lithuania! When we returned it was quite late, and completely forgetting the disc lock in the dark I attempted to ride off into the night. Unfortunately I had removed the batteries from the lock weeks ago because the motion alarm that would have warned me wouldn't stop going off. A horrible metallic screeching quickly alerted me that I had done something seriously stupid. A quick investigation revealed that the front brake disc was badly bent.

I left the bike inside a cafe that night, returning early Friday morning. The cafe owner had offered to help me find a mechanic, but he showed less interest the next day and I was pretty much left to my own devices. I had researched some shop numbers here in Russia to see if they had anything in stock or could order a disc, but the problem was finding someone to translate for me. As always someone turned up just when I needed them, while looking at the bike a girl approached me and said her friend who spoke English was a journalist and was interested in interviewing me. I spoke to Alsou, the journalist, over the phone and we arranged to meet up. When she arrived I pressed her into service as an interpreter and had her call the motorcycle stores for me. It soon became apparent I had no chance of finding a replacement disc in Russia and to order one would take until September. That was definitely not an option. Alsou and the other girls working in the newspaper office set to work trying to find a mechanic and discovered a motorcycle touring club in Ufa. One of the girl's husbands had a truck and he offered to transport the motorcycle to the club's garage. The mechanic at the club, David, attempted to straighten the disc while I continued exploring different options for shipping to Russia.

Alsou (an amazing help my entire stay in Ufa!) and I:

The friendly girls at the newspaper office:

The outlook wasn't good – DHL wanted $350 from the UK to Ufa for 4lb package. I would also be obligated to pay import taxes, anything valued over $150 (item value and shipping cost combined) is taxed. And I had to find a registered business to ship it to, because of mailing restrictions DHL won't allow delivery to private individuals. There was also the issue of customs clearance, DHL quoted 4 days to Ufa, but I knew another rider had waited over 30 days in Siberia for a part sent from Amsterdam via DHL earlier this summer. Even so I was willing to take a risk and order the part – I called DHL to arrange the pickup, only to find another roadblock. They wouldn't take non-UK cards over the phone, I would have to arrange the shipping online, but in that case it wouldn't be picked up until Monday. Eventually decided to call it quits for the night and explore my options over the weekend.

Ivan, a friend of the guy with the truck, had offered to host me in his apartment. Ivan is 23, he served in the Russian army for several years, and now works as a construction supervisor. He turned out to be a great host (and cook, his family has a farm outside the city) and I spent nearly 10 days with him and his wife in his small apartment some 30 minutes from the center of Ufa. He doesn't speak much English, but with the help of Google Translate we were able to communicate surprisingly well.

Sunday Ivan suggested we take the bike to a mechanic his friend Losha knew. For the price of not much more than a taxi we hired a truck to take it from the motorcycle club to Andrei's garage mechanic. Andrei had a small, but well organized shop. He said he knew someone who worked in an factory making parts for the Russian air force that did work on the side and could easily manufacture a new disc. I explained that I wasn't interested in using the old disc, fearing that it would have tension from being bent multiple times, but was willing to give making a new disc a shot, especially when they said it could be ready in a few days.

Ivan, Andrei, and Losha:

I decided I would go to an English club Wednesday night that I had been invited to by someone on CouchSurfing. Had a great time at the club and it was a welcome opportunity to speak English after a few days of not uttering much more than some simple words to Ivan.

The date the disc was supposed to be ready kept getting pushed back, but finally Friday evening I was told the disc was ready. The “new” disc was my old disc, somewhat straightened and machined. But even that wasn't properly done, there were variations in the metal thickness of 2/10mm and the brakes pulsated like crazy when trying to brake. Apparently they couldn't find the metal to make a new disc, it seems clear that the workers at the factory knew this, but didn't inform Andrei or myself. This was extremely frustrating because I had been very explicit that if they couldn't make a new disc I wasn't interested in trying to repair the new one, but would order one from Europe or even fly there to pick one up. By the time they showed me the disc Friday it was already too late to make any phone calls to Europe and I would have to spend another weekend in Ufa.

Life in Ufa wasn't so bad though:

Alsou had told a local TV station, UTV, about my trip and they decided to interview me alongside Alsou and Andrei for a travel show they produce:

At this point I determined that I couldn't afford to wait any longer if I wanted to continue the trip largely as planned. I decided I would fly back to Germany Monday, pick up the part myself, and return to Ufa later in the week. Fortunately there were daily flights to Frankfurt via Moscow, and the price, although expensive, wasn't much more than the cost of shipping/import taxes/and the cost of staying in Ufa.

Saturday I joined some people from the English club for a picnic outside the city and Sunday we checked out some live music at a rock bar:

The Mighty Volga

From Vladimir I made my way to Nizhny Novgorod where I would pick up the M-7, the main road east to the Urals. Nizhny is the third largest city in Russia and is located at the confluence of two large rivers, the Volga and the Oka. Arriving in Nizhny wet and tired I met up with my host Vassily. Vassily started working in the early 90s as a graphic designer, before moving on to programming. He and two partners have a tech company in Israel, and he is now becoming involved in the art scene again. I met him in the basement of a building inside the Nizhny kremlin where he is organizing a street art exhibition. Two young Russian street artists were spray painting large scenes on the walls of the basement, this would be the first time anything like this had been done inside the kremlin – much of it is still used by the local administration. Vassily is a tea afficianado and he had just received a new green tea from Indonesia. This was a relevatory experience – simply the best tea I've ever had in my life. A teaspoon of buds lasted us an hour of sipping many small cups of tea. Later that night we went on a nocturnal tour of street art and graffiti in Nizhny, there were even some things done by an American artist from NYC.

I left Nizhny under cloudy skies again and it rained off and on the entire way to Kazan, some 250 miles east. Kazan also lies on the banks of the Volga and is the capital of the republic of Tatarstan and has a significant Muslim population. The Tatars are the second largest ethnic group in Russia and many people speak both Tatar and Russian. I found Kazan to be a very nice city, clean and modern with a beautiful kremlin containing both Orthodox churches and mosques side by side.

I stayed in Kazan for two nights with my host Nadi and her roommate Dasha. Nadi had just started learning English 7 or 8 months ago, but she had already made a lot of progress. Dasha didn't speak any English, but she was really friendly and the language barrier didn't hold us back. Dasha was fasting for Ramadan and I asked her to take me somewhere for the evening meal, we ended up at a place specializing in food from Central Asia and the Caucasus: