We are settling in here in Vladivostok, and if you've read anything about Levi and myself's previous travel you would not now us now. The party pilgrims who were kicked out of a Paris hotel at 4 in the morning, are certainly not the nice American cyclists who keep to themselves in the dormitory of a Vladivostok Language school. Perhaps we are still suffering the side effects of a trip halfway around the world, or perhaps it is that we are still recovering from the month long planning marathon. I think that it is more the strange concept of being in Vladivostok for a month before our trip really starts, it is like we are in hybernation, we have single rooms far down the halls from each other which we each share with the bike of our dreams. We are here simply to train and learn Russian, we spend most of our time reading books on Gulags and the prehistoric Siberian Mosquito, which is not only impressive in it's size but also it's numbers, often smothering small creatures to death in swarms. Sounds like fun. In fact until this past saturday night we had yet to see Vladivostok at night except out our windows.
Besides 5 hours of reading a day, we sit around tinkering with the bikes, the gear and staring at the map, making comments like "so you think there will be a lot of truckstop clubs here?" Occasionally we go out in search of some last minute purchases, like bear spray and gas for our cook stove. Our searches for campstores has taken us into the heart of the communist tenements which may sound unpleasant, but there is something about the 5-8 story high housing complexes crammed next to eachother that has an appeal, each worn down on the outside, but if you manage to get inside, each apartment is really quite nice, in Soviet times they might have been overcrowded, more than one family to an apartment, but now I am always suprised at how cozy and welcoming they are (and I always forget to take off my shoes, at the entry way, oops). In each of these developments there is usually a couple of little playgrounds and a small convenience store, so if you wished you wouldn't have to go out hardly at all.
Saturday, on one of these excursions at an outdoors store we met a Russian guy (Denis, a Russian hippie complete with dreadlocks) who had hitchhiked from, get this, Vladivostok to Portugal, not Porto but Lisbon. We immediately got his phone number and made an appointment for tea the next day. Hitchhiking apparently is surging in popularity in Russia, taking the country by storm, with clubs popping up everywhere. Levi read somewhere that they even have hitchiking races all through out Russia now (first one to the Bering Straight wins!). Denis was able to answer the one great question about this bike trip we still had (besides "will we make it"), there is a part of the road from Chita to Blagoveschensk that with every Russian asked the story changes. "No there is no road there" one said. "No you cannot pass through there, that part of Siberia is not for travelling, trust me I grew up there." said another ironically in Moscow. "there is no road straight through but you can pass through". A map showed several small roads, but not quite connecting the whole way. A Russian government press release said the road across Russia would be paved by 2010, but didn't say that the road yet existed. Finally we had a man who had seen the road in the last year. "Oh boys that was my favorite part of the whole journey, all gravel." he then started to shaking all over mimicking what our bodies would be feeling for 2 entire weeks "I would bring facemasks for the dust boys." Question answered, relief filled us, for so long we had wondered how lost, starved or wet we might get pushing our bikes through bogs or meandering small paths along the Chinese border, instead we just needed a comfy seat and some facemasks. He then started giving us a detailed description of the various sections of the roads through Russia, "Here is Altai region, mountains very beautiful, here between Krasnoyosk and Omsk, biggest swamp in Russia huge mosquitos, very scary" He held out his hands to show they were as big as softballs, probably suck a pint of blood from you each, luckily I imagine that when they land on you it feels like a crow has landed on you and if you are lucky you can kill them with one quick smack from a baseball bat. "This area Ural mountains, you will be happy to climb, anything to get out of the swamp." Perfect.
Classes have started for us finally, we are in a class with 3 South Koreans, who are here as business majors, the Russians and the Koreans apparently have very good business connections and Russian is seen as a great language to pick up. However it is tough for them, the sounds are totally different, and considering that one of our Russian classes is totally devoted to pronunciation, it can't be fun (indeed who does like saying different combinations of 6 letters for an hour and a half each day, do, da, dya, zya-zo, zo-zye-fyu, you get the idea) I have an impossible time with this language I can't imagine what the Chinese and Koreans go through. Classes only last till one at which point Levi and I race up to the cafeteria acquire some questionable 25 cent bowls of Borscht and some great rolls that either contain cabbage, potatoe, "meat", "fish" or cheese. I am usually hopeful for the cheese one, Levi's stomach is still recovering from the fish one. Then we race down to the "computer lab" where there are 5 computers 2 of which invariably are missing either a mouse or a keyboard and the others are usually occupied, so we always bring books, usually reading about 100 pages before one of the computers frees up.
The weather here has been very mild, at least for what we thought we would be walking in to. There is snow on the ground and Saturday night there was quite a blizzard, we went flying down the hills here, Levi and I both fell once and the Korean students we were with may be a little black and blue come sunday. But besides that the weather has reached into the 40's on several occasions (today it is a shocking 48), it is sunny most days and more than anything we spend most of our time dodging puddles from melting snow. Levi and I are now thinking that we will be riding starting on April 15th, give or take (we refuse to start on a rainy day, sounds wimpy I know but why suffer when you can just squeeze in another day of 25 cent borscht). The thought that we might get an early start is thrilling, everyday we look out the window and the bay has melted a little more, and the ice fisherman are pushed a little closer to shore, soon they will be surfcasting.
ellski
Comments
About the road thing: I was talking to this software engineer named Andre from Moscow the other night and he said that the thing on the map that looks like a state highway is actually not a road, at least not until lake Bikal. He said that it was all dirt except after the thaw when it is all mud. His take was that it was passable, and one of his life goals was to ride a motorcycle (cue usual reaction to pedal bikes here) across the morass. There were even two people who had previously survived doing it.
Its funny that no one can agree whether or not the road you are taking actually exists. Love from california!
Hey guys, I'm Elina's brother and i was just told of your crazy ass plan to bike from the Pacific to the Altantic. My dad was telling me how you guys are staying with his wife's sister in bumblefuck russia. Well i just wanted to send my best, wish you guys a safe trip and tell you im immensely jealous since this is sonething up my alley. I'll try and read this blog since it seems its updated fairly well. Enjoy the russian soul food, its great!
