After an official visit to Dubna, about 120 km north of Moscow, I had the pleasure to spend two days with friends on a dacha in a little village about 150 km east. It gave me a first idea of one way to escape the busy streets of the capital and I enjoyed my friends' hospitality very much. Here I would like to express once more my gratefulness for this first insight into the Russian lifestyle.
However, I had plans to do some cycling, and when my friends had to return to Moscow I set out for the unknown east. At that stage my plans were as follows: take the main road to Nishny Novgorod and then muddle yourself through in a big semi circle via Vologda and Petrozavodsk to Finland; fly out then from Helsinki. This would have been a distance of about 3000 km, ambitious enough for 18 days of cycling in the West. What I had not taken into account were the typical Russian difficulties.
This first morning is gorgeous: comfortable in temperature and a strong wind from the west as a tailwind. Having already done quite a bit of driving in Russia, I am slightly worried about the traffic on the main roads. My Russian friends have different concerns: they see the main problem in the omnipresence of criminal elements, my very limited to not existing knowledge of the Russian language and the unpredictability of the roads in general. So when I finally hit the road I am not only stocked with food for a few days but also with tons of good advice. On the bicycle, on the other hand, none of my friends has ever covered serious distances; this makes their advice a little bit less reliable.
The first bit is easy. Surprisingly few cars on the main road, some rolling hills, pavement in good shape, sometimes even with rideable shoulders. The road traverses a village every few kilometres and all villages show the same contrast between wonderful old wooden houses - many abandoned and dilapidated - and soviet-style concrete buildings, ugly from the architecture (is this architecture after all?), run down as if to fall to pieces immediately. Inside, if you have the chance to have a closer look, very often renovated and lovely decorated with a feeling for details you would never expect from outside. Usually it is the front door of these houses that stops you from entering (this sounds like a truism, but this is how it is!): it never has a window and very often represents the most neglected part of the building - except for the huge device to lock this door. The same holds for all shops. Having never been outside western culture with its wide open stores of all kinds, it costs me in the beginning some effort to enter these quasi sealed areas. But again, inside you find proper and clean shops, equipped with everything you need for the daily life.
After 30 km I decide to leave the main road and to use small ones to come to Vladimir. According to my map this should be possible easily. And really, this first time I have no difficulties finding my way. My friends had warned me that there was not a network of reasonable roads in Russia, normally only one main axis and then lots of dead ends to serve all villages. This I consider as widely exaggerated. Looking at my maps I can spot all kinds of roads going all over the place. Dead ends? Nowhere near! Sure, there are hardly any signs pointing to villages, but with the help of the sun it is still easy to pick the right way. In any case, there are just not so many possibilities to choose from. Looking back I consider it pure luck that I had hit no dead end, missing bridge, impassable obstacle of any kind on this first day's detour off the main road.
Just in time for lunch I arrive in Vladimir. We had visited this city with its beautiful ensemble of Orthodox churches the other day with my friends so I know of a good spot to eat my sandwiches and to relax a little from the efforts to ride a heavily loaded bike. It always takes me a few days to find the rhythm for living on the road.
To continue towards Nishny Novgorod my map does not show any byways any more; there seems to be only the main road. Temperatures are now up to almost 30 ºC. After the refreshing quietness of the churchyard, the dust of the road, the now heavy traffic, the sweat make an uncomfortable mixture, but I still enjoy the ride very much. Imagine: Touring in Russia! Exciting! Still, despite all enthusiasm I am getting tired, mentally and physically. On a big road in Russia you have to face a kind of traffic I have never seen in all countries I have visited. Russians know only two reasons to slow down: railway crossings (which just would break your axles if you do not slow down to walking speed) and the checkpoints of the GAI, the infamous road police. On all other occasions they drive like crazy and always as fast as possible. They give a fiddler's fart on any rules, pure Darwinism reigns the streets and there is certainly no room for self-conscious cyclists who try to insist on a 10 cm wide bit of the road for themselves: give way or die. Additionally, due to climate, heavy truck traffic and low maintenance budgets the pavement very often reminds of Swiss cheese, not too bad for the big wheels of a truck, but forcing a bike into a zigzag what in turn is accepted by none of the motorised community. Cyclist? You have no rights! (Yes, indeed: right turning traffic officially does not have to yield to pedestrians!).
In the course of the years since perestroika quite a few coffee shops have opened along the most vital Russian roads. Very often they are just a container, a few tables, optically not too convincing, but usually they serve reasonable Shashlik, a wide selection of pops, cookies and the seemingly unavoidable Nescafe. They all have Coke and Pepsi signs all over. I wonder how many millions of these have been shipped to Russia in the last years. My experience in these shops is always positive (although I have no very wide basis for judgement): a friendly hello and acceptable to excellent food and drinks. Certainly an easy way for travellers to find a meal or at least something to drink on the road. Small stores also flourish everywhere along the heavily travelled places. Generally, it is everything but a problem to find supplies along the road. Since most of the little shops are open 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. or some even 6 a.m. to 12 p.m. it is even easier than in countries like, say Germany, where restrictive laws limit shop hours very much. The price for food is comparable or higher than in Western Europe. No paradise for budget travellers!
At 8 p.m., the sun is still far from setting, I feel no wish to carry on. Instead, I find a nice clearing in a forest, a few kilometres off the main road. It is still warm, almost hot, too windy for the mosquitoes to fly. A decent meal, singing birds everywhere, the voices of love crazy frogs in the swamps nearby, the smell of the fresh leaves of the birch trees, a tent and the good feeling after a long day's ride - for me the best possible way to finish a day of cycling, a day of holidays.
The next morning again is beautiful. How relaxed everything is under such conditions: no bears to fear, no immediate freezing once you leave your sleeping bag, no rain soaking everything.
Back on the main road the fight against the traffic restarts immediately. Hard times for guardian angles! There are about 120 km left to come to Nishny Novgorod, not one noticeable bend in the road according to my map. What a good opportunity for Lada racing. Many small villages, farmland, forests, hills, lakes and of course the thrill of riding furthermore east than ever make it very entertaining to cruise along.
After an hour I spot a café and stop for breakfast. Me being the only customer, the owner has a lot of time to ask many questions that I, what a pity, never understand. I can only guess that it must be the usual stuff of where, when, how which I, badly enough, know to express in Russian. He seems to be satisfied, looks only sometimes astonished, when my answer obviously has nothing to do with the question. Finally he makes me sign his guest book. In the mean time a bunch of teenagers is investigating my bike. They look shy and treat it as careful as a precious object from a different star. I cannot even find a trace of the hostility that so many anticipated.
In the early afternoon, in the middle of a never ending road construction, I get myself some more food - and have to buy much more than what I want to since the shop is out of change. This time I do not have to give a signature in the guest book, but I am asked to take a picture of the owner on my bike.
My expectations towards Nishny Novgorod are mixed. A city of two million, how can I find anything, what will it be like? No reason to worry. The «Lonely Planet» guide book gives a good description where to find a hotel and I arrive there almost on the shortest possible way. I am glad when I find myself in the lobby of the hotel: outside, the thermometer reads more than 30 °C, large quantities of sand are blown through the streets, properly tuned and environmentally not too unfriendly cars are as frequent as blue elephants. A nice surprise is that the camouflage-dressed hotel security knows some English to help me around. The room I am given is clean and well equipped with TV, VCR, balcony, fridge, bathroom... and the price is also top end. But still, after the dust of the road, what a relieve to have a shower!
The rest of the afternoon I spend sightseeing. The centre of Nishny is pretty nice. The Kremlin, now seat of the local government, is brand new renovated, more churches beam in fresh paint. From a hill you have a good view over the rivers Volga and Oka, both large compared to, for example, the famous Rhine. There is pulsing life in the streets of the centre, the Yarmarka (an exposition centre), and the boiling but run down area around the railway station. I buy a Russian made atlas of Russia, believing it would give more and especially more reliable information than my western made maps - o what a mistake! Looking back I doubt there are any accurate maps outside the military.
In the evening I get myself a bottle of beer and am about to have some dinner in a park when a group of three Russians joins my table. As soon as they find out that I am not Russian, and this they find out immediately, they have a reason to celebrate and the party can start. They have one bottle of vodka with them, it does not last very long. A place to get some more alcohol is never far off and we end up with a couple of beers and three bottles of vodka, dancing and singing through the streets. Luckily it is not far to my hotel! Who said it is dangerous in Russia? Yes, I agree, for your liver!
The other morning I get up late with a head almost too big to fit through the door of the hotel room. The sun is shining again and it is as hot as the days before. I am not in the shape to do more sightseeing, so I only change some money in the hotel and, finally, set out at 11, still badly suffering from last night's party.
The first day of cycling off the main road. I am curious. First challenge: how to cross the Volga? Sure, there is a bridge, but it is closed to bikes and the GAI seemingly checks everyone crossing. The bridge is something like 5 km long. It is the only Volga-crossing for too many kilometres to think of an alternative. So I cycle towards the GAI checkpoint, give a friendly wave to the police, and I am on the ramp. Nobody cares about me. I in turn care very much about the dense traffic. The roadway is so small that you would think nobody could pass when there is opposing traffic and at the same time a bike. Wrong! It is a long process to get used to Russian driving habits. They always overtake, sometimes touching my panniers, and there is no room to give way to the cars; to block the road entirely by cycling right in the middle of my lane I do not have the guts. A kind of footpath parallels the road. Somehow I manage to lift my bike over the crash-barriers. The path is not too bad at first glance. At least it is wide enough for a bike only and therefore too small for cars. |
