The Return Of The Kings 07/14/2009
I don't know where it happened, perhaps it was right after completing that marathon 9 hour Internet session in Ulan-Ude to get the website up to date, or perhaps it was when we procrastinated the whole next day sitting around eating ice cream and pizza in the city center and only hopping on our bikes at 5 in the evening, but more than likely it was just at that moment when we got out of the city and started to move our legs, winding through a river valley realizing we could go fast. The egos returned, not the egos of before either, not the "I've never met anyone better" and "oh do I have to sign another autograph?", no these are different, after so many set backs they don't talk (so) big, it's all about making it to Porto now and flying from Irkutsk to Omsk to do it. The big talk about meeting Vladimir Putin and getting on Russian MTV has taken a back burner to how many kilometers we can choke down in a month and how many rest days we really need. "Do we really need two days in Novosibirsk? What about Krasnayarsk, what is there?". Sure they talk big, but only in kilometers per day and continents per year, not interviews per city and website hits per month. They are humbled after the Chita to Ulan-Ude debacle and hungry to ride.
We cruised out of Ulan-Ude for the first time in a while with good fresh start, our legs were good, our bikes were good, our health was good. Even starting at 5 in the evening we cruised about 70km before the sun started to make it's way into the mountains, we were back, the burn in the legs felt good, the giggles returned as the high of getting out of the city and back into the weird and wild world of Russian cafe land hit us. I am now on a strictly package diet, if I don't see it come from a package I don't eat it, the cafes aren't quite as fun or filling as they used to be, but if you had had the experiences that I have had you wouldn't take the chance either. No cafe food for Ellery until he reaches Europe, which is about a cool 3000km away. We still stop in them, Levi is playing Russian Roulette, and I like them because you might catch some cheesy Russian music videos, and you get to sit in comfort, as opposed to wolfing down a sandwich in front of a convenience store surrounded by stray (but very well behaved) dogs.
The second day out was perhaps one of the most momentous, Baikal, the worlds largest and deepest lake appeared for the first time by our side. The lake is huge no doubt about it, surrounded by beautiful snow capped mountains even in summer (the ice on the lake sometimes doesn't even melt fully until June). For us it was a milestone, finally reaching a place that we had talked and dreamed about for so long, where we could relax and take a swim, buy souvenirs for our Idiot deprived families, and take in a bit of touristy life that we missed not being on Cape Cod and Coastal Maine in the summer. After about 40km of riding and taking in the lake we began to notice that perhaps this was not going to be quite as we imagined it, Baikal would not be the tourist trap we had rather hoped for, if anything as we cruised the Russian Federal Highway along side it, the towns became strangely more deserted and without cafes. We had bypassed several cafes and convenience stores along the way, hoping to have that first luch on the shores of the lake, but now that we were by the side of the lake we saw no cafes or stores, just old women sitting by the side of the road selling suspicious looking smoked Omul, the fish of Baikal. We were starving when we met our first bicycle tourers from Europe coming down the road. "hello?"
"ah hello, we are French, and you are?"
"American"
"ah very good"
I exhaled in relief.
They were two, going from Paris to Kiev by bicycle and then taking the train to Irkutsk, and riding south to Mongolia and on into India. We talked for a while, comparing notes on what was ahead, where the mountains were and where for the love of god the next cafe is (we tried to play it cool, like we weren't starving "you didn't happen notice where the last cafe was?"). Unlike with everyone else, the meetings with cyclists are short, unless there is a cafe to stop in nearby both parties realize that they are burning valuable daylight, and inevitably the bugs will discover 4 sweaty bikers standing in the hot sun, we chatted for a while and then both went our separate ways. The bugs by the way still haven't reached their full peak, we have been lucky and seen relatively few mosquitoes, but that hasn't stopped the horse flies from ending our cookie breaks, these huge quarter size horseflies now follow us in swarms, I have taken to swinging a hand behind me like a cow tail every few minutes to dissuade them from biting my bottom. On hills and mountains we now have a new inspiration, try and keep it fast to avoid those evil horseflies, no breaks mid way, they will catch you and you will be consumed.
About 20km later just as we were approaching Babushkin, the town that I imagined was run exclusively by babushkas and we were going to get our stomachs overfilled with free food and our cheeks pinched until they were red, we ran into another traveller. A Swiss woman who had been travelling alone through most of the world for the last 3 years, she was now racing down to Mongolia to Ulaan Batar, and was hoping to be back in Switzerland in the next 9 months. It turned out that Babushkin was not filled with overly kind old ladies, it was just a small village, one cafe and nothing else not even a decent convenience store, just located on this huge beautiful lake, otherwise it could have been Anyvillage, Russia and Levi and I would have certainly passed by. We again met a group of motorcyclists from Germany who were of course heading to Mongolia. "What the hell is in Mongolia??" "Geese, you would think after riding even a motorcycle about 4000km of 6000, you would say hey let's finish this Russia thing" We have never gotten a answer why so many people ride there bikes from Europe to Ulan Bataar and immediately turn around like there is no more to see. Very strange. To each there own.
"ah hello, we are French, and you are?"
"American"
"ah very good"
I exhaled in relief.
They were two, going from Paris to Kiev by bicycle and then taking the train to Irkutsk, and riding south to Mongolia and on into India. We talked for a while, comparing notes on what was ahead, where the mountains were and where for the love of god the next cafe is (we tried to play it cool, like we weren't starving "you didn't happen notice where the last cafe was?"). Unlike with everyone else, the meetings with cyclists are short, unless there is a cafe to stop in nearby both parties realize that they are burning valuable daylight, and inevitably the bugs will discover 4 sweaty bikers standing in the hot sun, we chatted for a while and then both went our separate ways. The bugs by the way still haven't reached their full peak, we have been lucky and seen relatively few mosquitoes, but that hasn't stopped the horse flies from ending our cookie breaks, these huge quarter size horseflies now follow us in swarms, I have taken to swinging a hand behind me like a cow tail every few minutes to dissuade them from biting my bottom. On hills and mountains we now have a new inspiration, try and keep it fast to avoid those evil horseflies, no breaks mid way, they will catch you and you will be consumed.
About 20km later just as we were approaching Babushkin, the town that I imagined was run exclusively by babushkas and we were going to get our stomachs overfilled with free food and our cheeks pinched until they were red, we ran into another traveller. A Swiss woman who had been travelling alone through most of the world for the last 3 years, she was now racing down to Mongolia to Ulaan Batar, and was hoping to be back in Switzerland in the next 9 months. It turned out that Babushkin was not filled with overly kind old ladies, it was just a small village, one cafe and nothing else not even a decent convenience store, just located on this huge beautiful lake, otherwise it could have been Anyvillage, Russia and Levi and I would have certainly passed by. We again met a group of motorcyclists from Germany who were of course heading to Mongolia. "What the hell is in Mongolia??" "Geese, you would think after riding even a motorcycle about 4000km of 6000, you would say hey let's finish this Russia thing" We have never gotten a answer why so many people ride there bikes from Europe to Ulan Bataar and immediately turn around like there is no more to see. Very strange. To each there own.
We headed down to the beach of Baikal for the first time that day, although there was a lot of trash it overall was slightly cleaner than the typical patch of Russian Highway, which shows at least they are trying to keep it clean (it is rather terrifying to think that the world's largest lake, holding 1/5th of the world's fresh water is located in Russia and is rather a bit too close to China).
Here as we looked from small picnic to picnic (the Russians love a picnic) for a place to sit we saw a pair of familiar faces, Alexei and Tanya. They had stopped us on the way to Babushkin and invited us to eat with them on the beach, but we had just assumed we wouldn't see them, however once we got out on to "the beach" we realized it wouldn't be that hard to spot them amongs the half dozen people enjoying the shore of Baikal. We had a fantastic night with them, they were from St. Petersburg, and were on their way home from Vladivostok with a new used car (apparently Vladivostok plays the part of Russia's giant used car dealer). It turned out that it was also Alexei's birthday, something that we would normally avoid like the plague, a Russian man on his birthday can be very dangerous, but these two were very relaxed and fun, we spent a wonderful afternoon and evening with them. We of course did our first dip into the lake then too, "you know it is really cold, be careful" Alexei warned. Kings don't listen to something like that "oh these Russians and their "it's cold" they never stop, I think it is just a mindset, I swim in the ocean in Maine I can handle it" said one of our heros. "Oh my god, I didn't know water could get that cold without freezing, good god!!!" one of our hero's said a few moments later. It was cold, it felt like a glass of water where all the ice cubes had just melted, I guess because they had. We had such a great time with Alexei (I think one of the best of the trip so far) talking about our mutual love of St. Petersburg (he had moved there when he was young) and about the road from Vladivostok, and Russia in general, that I gave him my knife as a birthday present.
"Oh you have made my year, do you know how much I love knives!!! They are my life, I collect them."
The next morning they returned the favor giving me a soccer scarf from Zenit St. Petersburg, a team that just last year I became obsessed with. It was a perfect exchange.
That day was just a joy, we were warm with that feeling of perfect happiness, it revitalized our trip in a way, a wonderful picnic on Lake Baikal finally able to give a perfect gift, that was what we imagined we would be able to take from this trip, not that there hadn't been very special and wonderful moments before on this trip, but this one was so spontaneous and unexpected it was wonderful.
Here as we looked from small picnic to picnic (the Russians love a picnic) for a place to sit we saw a pair of familiar faces, Alexei and Tanya. They had stopped us on the way to Babushkin and invited us to eat with them on the beach, but we had just assumed we wouldn't see them, however once we got out on to "the beach" we realized it wouldn't be that hard to spot them amongs the half dozen people enjoying the shore of Baikal. We had a fantastic night with them, they were from St. Petersburg, and were on their way home from Vladivostok with a new used car (apparently Vladivostok plays the part of Russia's giant used car dealer). It turned out that it was also Alexei's birthday, something that we would normally avoid like the plague, a Russian man on his birthday can be very dangerous, but these two were very relaxed and fun, we spent a wonderful afternoon and evening with them. We of course did our first dip into the lake then too, "you know it is really cold, be careful" Alexei warned. Kings don't listen to something like that "oh these Russians and their "it's cold" they never stop, I think it is just a mindset, I swim in the ocean in Maine I can handle it" said one of our heros. "Oh my god, I didn't know water could get that cold without freezing, good god!!!" one of our hero's said a few moments later. It was cold, it felt like a glass of water where all the ice cubes had just melted, I guess because they had. We had such a great time with Alexei (I think one of the best of the trip so far) talking about our mutual love of St. Petersburg (he had moved there when he was young) and about the road from Vladivostok, and Russia in general, that I gave him my knife as a birthday present.
"Oh you have made my year, do you know how much I love knives!!! They are my life, I collect them."
The next morning they returned the favor giving me a soccer scarf from Zenit St. Petersburg, a team that just last year I became obsessed with. It was a perfect exchange.
That day was just a joy, we were warm with that feeling of perfect happiness, it revitalized our trip in a way, a wonderful picnic on Lake Baikal finally able to give a perfect gift, that was what we imagined we would be able to take from this trip, not that there hadn't been very special and wonderful moments before on this trip, but this one was so spontaneous and unexpected it was wonderful.
We continued along Baikal basking in the unexpected treat that the road was fairly flat, we had expected really hilly along Baikal, but the Russians had somehow managed to make a beautiful flat road through the mountains, who would have thought. Over the next two days we cruised along slowly, enjoying every afternoon on the beach and riding in the mornings, along the way we met several more motorcyclists, most going to Mongolia, apparently Central Asia's tourist trap. We also met a man who really inspired the new "go get em" egos, he was from the Czech Republic and he had left about the same time as us. The difference was that he had taken only one day off, and he rode no less than 120km a day on a mountain bike. He had gone 9000km in 2.5 months, incredible, he made our upcoming push look like a relaxing bike ride through the park. He was continuing on to Mongolia(!) and then south to Vietnam for the winter and working his way home slowly through India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran etc. And we thought we were hardcore. He was extremely excited, half to see a fellow long distance tourer, but also because he had finally come to the end of his long push, he was now slowing down while he waited for his Mongolian visa to become valid.
As the days cruised along and we got closer and closer to Irkutsk we began to realize that Lake Baikal was not going to have the touristy, cheesy area that we had half hoped for, it was simply going to be the standard Russian village just on a gorgeous lake, there didn't even seem to be any real tourists aside from those going to Mongolia. When we came to Baikalsk we were still holding out hope, when I went inside the supermarket (the first one we had seen along Baikal to give you an idea of how remote it is) I found some souvenirs stuffed off to a corner, nothing nearly as corny as I like, not even a cheesy t-shirt but still it gave us hope that perhaps we would see some people here. Instead we were almost immediately captured, walking out of the supermarket a couple of young Russian college students approached us, they were staying in their parents Dacha or summer house for the summer, selling strawberries from the patch for money. After we told them what we were doing they promptly invited us to spend the night at their Dacha, which was on the mountainside overlooking Lake Baikal, we had a great electricity free evening with them, eating strawberries and comparing notes on favorite videos on Russian MTV. By the next town, Sluidianko we had given up hope, there are touristy parts of Lake Baikal, but we were not going to see them on our route to Irkutsk, they lie to the north apparently and we simply have no more time to spend on the lake. Sluidianko though turned out to be just what we had been searching for, well kind of. We had always planned on spending 2 days there, and after several days of spending the night with other people we were ready for a rest and isolation, Sludianko provided that very nicely, there was only one hotel, again the only one we had encountered yet on the lake, it was very cheap and nice, we found finally a beach with some Russian families which was nice and we spent two days just relaxing on the beach, rarely swimming again because it was miserably "refreshing". It was wild to think what the Russian version of a beach vacation might be, but overall I didn't think it was too out of control, at least compared to the village life here. Most people were camped out on the beach with a tent and a grill and of course a good deal of booze, but really it wasn't too different to walking down the beach on Cape Cod in July. Well except for one really disturbing trend, we've all perhaps witnessed a few kids on the beach running off into the beach grass to smoke a stolen cigarette or sip the left over of a beer, bad but very common. Here on the beach though, there were really young kids, some of them no older than 5 huddled over a fire of melting plastic beer bottles and trash (you need to warm up after the dip in the lake, so everyone starts fires, which usually are powered by the neighborhood trash, a different way of cleaning the beach) there they smoke cigarette after cigarette, these kids are young, disturbingly young, unexceptably young, but no one seems to care.
As the days cruised along and we got closer and closer to Irkutsk we began to realize that Lake Baikal was not going to have the touristy, cheesy area that we had half hoped for, it was simply going to be the standard Russian village just on a gorgeous lake, there didn't even seem to be any real tourists aside from those going to Mongolia. When we came to Baikalsk we were still holding out hope, when I went inside the supermarket (the first one we had seen along Baikal to give you an idea of how remote it is) I found some souvenirs stuffed off to a corner, nothing nearly as corny as I like, not even a cheesy t-shirt but still it gave us hope that perhaps we would see some people here. Instead we were almost immediately captured, walking out of the supermarket a couple of young Russian college students approached us, they were staying in their parents Dacha or summer house for the summer, selling strawberries from the patch for money. After we told them what we were doing they promptly invited us to spend the night at their Dacha, which was on the mountainside overlooking Lake Baikal, we had a great electricity free evening with them, eating strawberries and comparing notes on favorite videos on Russian MTV. By the next town, Sluidianko we had given up hope, there are touristy parts of Lake Baikal, but we were not going to see them on our route to Irkutsk, they lie to the north apparently and we simply have no more time to spend on the lake. Sluidianko though turned out to be just what we had been searching for, well kind of. We had always planned on spending 2 days there, and after several days of spending the night with other people we were ready for a rest and isolation, Sludianko provided that very nicely, there was only one hotel, again the only one we had encountered yet on the lake, it was very cheap and nice, we found finally a beach with some Russian families which was nice and we spent two days just relaxing on the beach, rarely swimming again because it was miserably "refreshing". It was wild to think what the Russian version of a beach vacation might be, but overall I didn't think it was too out of control, at least compared to the village life here. Most people were camped out on the beach with a tent and a grill and of course a good deal of booze, but really it wasn't too different to walking down the beach on Cape Cod in July. Well except for one really disturbing trend, we've all perhaps witnessed a few kids on the beach running off into the beach grass to smoke a stolen cigarette or sip the left over of a beer, bad but very common. Here on the beach though, there were really young kids, some of them no older than 5 huddled over a fire of melting plastic beer bottles and trash (you need to warm up after the dip in the lake, so everyone starts fires, which usually are powered by the neighborhood trash, a different way of cleaning the beach) there they smoke cigarette after cigarette, these kids are young, disturbingly young, unexceptably young, but no one seems to care.
Our final stage in our Tour de Baikal (who doesn't catch a little cycling fever around tour de france time) was the mountain stage, finally bearing down and climbing the mountains that surrounded Baikal. After two days off and 5 days of relaxing riding it was half fun half hell riding so intensely, there were several 10km climbs and even some 14% grade uphills for us to enjoy, but the views and the downhills were spectacular. We rode a tough 130 km but in the end were rewarded by making it into Irkutsk around 7 pm. Irkutsk is a wonderful city, very old, filled with great old wooden houses, with great Russian style hand carved trim and window sills. It is once again a city where the wives of the Decembrists went to be close to their husbands who were in prison. As a result in the period between 1830-1850 or so Irkutsk slowly became a cultural center, one of the wives in particular built theaters and schools. Eventually her balls and circle were even talked about in St. Petersburg and Moscow. The city itself seems to have upgraded since then only in adding more concrete, it is full of one way streets and narrow lanes which on our way in gave us no end of trouble, we managed to roll in exactly during rush hour. We witnessed our first and second car accident in disturbing succession, reminding us that we must be eternally vigilant, these Russian drivers are fine outside the cities, but inside they can become crazed demons. We found a hostel on the internet in Irkutsk, it is the first one that we have seen our entire trip, we were very excited at the prospect, again of meeting some foreigners and maybe getting some free wi-fi internet. We weren't disappointed, "sure we have beds for you tonight, tomorrow we can put you in a homestay and then the third night you will be back here". Sounds good to us, they had wi-fi and a small apartment turned hostel filled with people heading to andd coming from Mongolia, what could be better. And the shower was to die for, we slept like kings that night.
The next day we did our standard city tour, we spent all day running around the city from bike shop to bike shop discovering as usual that they do not have what we are looking for (the roads are still so bad that there are no road bikes here, therefore few road bike parts and accessories, hopefully we will find them as we get closer to Europe), in between I shop for cappuccinos, winding up with about 7 a day before we descend back out to the coffee-less country side. We returned to the hostel in the evening used the internet for a few hours and then told the woman we were ready to go to the home-stay (we have become rather anti-social not really wanting in cities to become involved home-stays) "okay now of course you realize that for such an authentic Russian experience it is going to be a bit more money." "What" we thought, "I do this all the time for free, now I have to pay more, oh well, whatever, it's just one night." When we got to the homestay Alex showed us around. His apartment was a classic example of the Chinese veneer that goes on here, you take a classic soviet style apartment, go to China and get everything you could need, everything from cabinets to bureaus to bathroom tiles is Chinese. The wallpaper has Chinese symbols on it, the bedside tables are covered in cheap Chinese souvenirs, you basically take what was 30 years ago the most notoriously bad and cheaply built building and spruce it up with what is currently the most notoriously bad and cheaply made enhancements. Perfect. My favorite is the doors, every hotel and home that gets the Chinese veneer gets these brand new, not quite fitting doors that are all in the style of executive boardrooms, with frosted glass in strange stylistic shapes and patterns, great I guess for your new fake office, but not so great as a bedroom or bathroom door where we so often see them. When Alex showed us our new Feng Shui bedroom we stopped dead. "So the day has finally arrived eh Levi?" "Yeah, knew it was going to come eventually" The double bed stared back at us laughing and we recalled wincing the hostel manager "Of course it is going to be a bit more expensive" For what? To sleep next to this guy? Do you know it is about 95 degrees out? 2 big sweaty dudes? Perfect. "Good night guys" said Alex as he closed the non fitting door behind us. "And of course this is the one day that we left all our stuff in another building we could just roll out a sleeping mat and rock, paper, scissor for it, oh well I guess it is only for one night. Goood night sweety" "Nighty night honey" The next day we got up EARLY and ran back to the hostel, the second day is usually internet day, and we got to work uploading pictures and writing our blogs. "oh boys there has been a mistake, we do not have room for you tonight, you will have to spend another night at the homestay, but don't worry you will pay the same as if you stay here. "are you kidding? again? I don't come into these cities with much expectations anymore, good internet, cheap accommodations, nice bike shops, a decent cup of coffee, I have given up all hope of these things, but I do at least wish to be more than 8 inches away from my friend here who smells like sweat and bicycle grease no matter how many showers he takes!!!!" I thought "Oh no problem. It's a nice place, very nicely decorated" I said. And so we again spend our night tonight in the Chinese Soviet apartment, snuggled next to each other in 85 degree heat, good thing the sun only disappears for about 5 hours a night. Yeah we are going to fly across this next 3000 miles never looking back. Ellski
