Sochi and the south

Leaving Moscow was hard for many reasons, but on all counts I was behind schedule and so it was that I set off on Monday 18th July. It was hard to believe I was already half way through my time in Russia and I’d only been to two cities. Nevertheless, I had had the time of my life and was more than happy with how everything had unfolded thus far.

The ride to Voronezh was the usual long straight boring affair and I was quite pleased with the time I was making. I’d stopped for fuel and food about half way and was quickly off again before trouble struck. Feeling a complete loss of drive, but with an engine still running I thought for sure my chain had broken. But it was much worse. After pulling up on the highway I noticed that my rear sprocket was completely shredded! There was not a snowflake’s chance in hell of me getting anywhere and my thoughts quickly turned to how to get help. Initially, I thought I’d need to be towed and rang Katya in Moscow to see if she could locate any tow trucks. I figured as a native speaker she’d have far more success than me. Fortunately, she had tracked down an option, but it was going to be extremely expensive. I decided I’d have a think about it and saw there was a hotel up the road two kilometres. Maybe I could go there and find a truck heading my way. In any case I was keen to get off the highway. Trucks were whizzing past and it was less than ideal. What was strange about this whole experience was my attitude. Possibly for the first time ever, I actually wasn’t that worried about the whole situation. I knew it that would resolve itself whether it be a few days or a few hours and so it was I got busy pushing, surprised by my new found zen about my latest roadside troubles.

As I got closer I saw the road widen coinciding with some shade from the tall trees lining the highway. It was there I decided to stop pushing and attempt hitchhiking. I figured I could always go to the hotel at the end of the day if I was unsuccessful and make some calls, but for now it seemed the best way to get a lift was to stay on the highway. Many trucks flew by, with few even acknowledging my presence. Quite humorously, some truck drivers made gestures as if to say “what do you expect me to do?” as they flew past in their empty flat bed trucks which were ideal for my exact need!

At one stage a guy pulled up in a small truck, but indicated he was full. I thought that was quite nice. He wasn’t lying either. His hard body was full to the brim with boxes and I was pleased to at least get some politeness. As the count of eligible contenders flew by (perhaps 40 by now), I was starting to think I’d be here all day or longer. Next thing a flat body flew passed and I waved frantically with what I thought was zero success. Looking for the next opportunity I failed to realised he had not only stopped but was backing up! I was so pumped and I ran down to meet him. Nikolai was his name and I explained I was trying to get to Voronezh. It seemed he was going to be able to take me there. I wasn’t sure if it was on his route, but I was sure glad to be at least heading somewhere with someone.

As we drove on, Nikolai made about a dozen calls all discussing the same topic “…Afstraliits… motocyclet…” I was wondering if he was explaining his new mission or sharing his excitement for the day. We took an exit off the highway and I wondered what would happen next. We reached a small town and entered a trucking yard. This of course was Nikolai’s trucking company and we were stopping for a coffee and biscuits. I met his wife and workers and he also showed off his motorcycle. They were most interested in meeting an Australian motorcyclist and before long we were off. At this stage I still wasn’t sure what our plans were, but I would quickly find out. We pulled up at another trucking depot and were greeted by some guys, one of whom was carrying a sprocket! I was pretty stoked to see what was unfolding before my eyes – a repair party! After some greetings and discussions in Russian we were back on the truck heading to yet another depot. It turns out Nikolai has some motocross buddies and was doing the ring around for a sprocket. The boys certainly delivered and after my bike was unloaded they were at work putting on the new one. Nikolai bade his farewells and I thanked him profusely. I then watched as the guys pulled off the wheel and switched sprockets. I dug into my luggage for my spare chain and before long the job was done. During the effort, another friend of theirs, Vlad, turned up. His English was excellent and I was finally able to have some interpreted conversations. The guys were all pretty funny and were asking me about my bike and showing me theirs. At one stage, one of them who had a bandaged knee and was limping around showed me his motocross boots. We both knew they were more expensive than mine so I suggested we swap given he was in no condition to ride. He thought that was hilarious and quickly took his boots back to the shed.

Only two hours earlier I thought I’d be stuck somewhere, but there I was, thanking the guys and jumping back on the bike with a replacement sprocket and on my way to Voronezh after all. I just couldn’t believe my luck. Equally, I was cursing myself for not keeping an eye on the sprocket sooner. I’d noticed when the bike was serviced in Italy the sprocket they’d put on seemed really cheap. Turns out it was aluminium, which is rubbish, so I only have myself to blame for not following up sooner. I vowed to learn my lesson and continued on to Voronezh arriving at a reasonably satisfactory 11pm.

I was all set to get going the next morning and remembered as I arrived into Voronezh the night before I noticed something leaking. Day time inspection revealed it seemed to be the radiator. Initially, I had fears for the engine, but it wasn’t that bad. The motocross guys who helped me out had given me a moto shop name in Voronezh, so I headed over hoping to get a fix. Unfortunately, they couldn’t help out, but then proceeded to ring around and found a workshop who could. I navigated my way through the back streets and met the guys from ProRiderz who got onto it straight away. They got my radiator fixed and got me a whole new set of sprockets (with some spares for peace of mind) I spent the day kicking about their workshop and booked myself a second night in Voronezh. Again, I felt incredibly lucky not to have had the leak sooner or later! Being a distance from a major city would have presented the same problems as the previous day, so I slept well knowing I wasn’t too far behind schedule. (I had to skip Rostov-on-Don though which I would have liked to have seen.)

Again, the ride was long and I rolled into Krasnodar at about 8pm and went straight to the KTM shop where a rear tyre had been ordered for me. Sergey and Max helped me out I enjoyed having a chat with Sergey while I waited (with heavy reliance on Google Translate). And so it was, I checked in again at a late hour, but wasn’t worried as I now had two nights with a day to relax in between. Whilst at dinner at the htoel, some local Russian men were finishing off their dinner (after quite a few home brew vodkas) and stopped to chat to me. Upon realising I was an Australian motorcyclist they were ecstatic. So they sat back down, requested some fresh glasses and we were into the vodka toasting each other’s nations. What was most amusing was that one of them was clearly not a drinker and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him as he struggled to keep up with his more stereotypical friends. I acknowledged his suffering and he gave me a smile.

I didn’t see much of Krasnodar aside from the usual stroll around the city centre. I had some affairs and work to take care of and most of that was done on my laptop in what was like the Presidential suite in my hotel. That’s one good thing about lesser known cities, the hotel rates are great. Furthermore, neither Voronezh nor Krasnodar were hosting World Cup games so that definitely helped. Although I did come across a bus load of Tunisians trying to check in early at my hotel in Voronezh and it greatly impeded by ability to actually check out! I asked the check in girl how she was handling the craziness. She said it was fine and that she was used to it. She said they’re early anyway, so it wasn’t like she could do much until the rooms were ready. I admired her composed and relaxed attitude in what was already starting to become a slightly hostile and rowdy mob!

I had grands plans for my next stop, but they were to be thwarted by my delays leaving Moscow, the highway breakdown and the subsequent repair jobs. I was determined to get to Crimea. The Australian government has it marked as “Do not travel” and I knew it was a combination of politics, precaution and paranoia (with the first item probably the highest ranked). I’d done a lot of research on Crimea and everywhere I went was enquiring with locals as to its safety. Unfortunately, though I could only get as far as crossing the impressive new bridge connecting mainland Russian to the peninsula that was only just opened in May. I would have loved to ride across and visit Sevastopol and Yalta, but the distances were vast and I was on a mission to get to Sochi. So I did my crossing, stopped at Kerch for fuel and food (which I noticed seemed to be a very poor town) and was on my way again. I was there long enough to observe that my visa card didn’t work and subsequently read that visa and master card are blocked in Crimea for foreigners (again, purely for political reasons).

Note: A few weeks later my Aussie moto mate Sheldon made it there too and was able to spend quite a few days there enjoying every minute. It is a beautiful coastal holiday destination and the locals embraced him wholeheartedly! But he ran out of money. He obviously hadn’t read my Instagram post!

As I rode back across the vast impressive bridge, I was happy to at least partially complete my goal and who knows, maybe I was the first Australian to ride across the bridge. I hope I was. I’ll probably never know, so I’ll just claim it anyway.

I had one more stop before Sochi. I was doing long rides and the jaunt across to Crimea added a few hours to an already long day. And so after riding through the very industrial looking port city of Novorossiysk, I found a small seaside town to settle for the night called Lemontovo. The past few days really felt like a drag, just riding highways with little recreation and sight-seeing in between, but I was now only a day away from Sochi. Lemontovo was a little bit ramshackle. It seemed like a more low key and cheaper place to holiday than Sochi and I found it interesting that the boardwalks were pumping with live music, small carnival games and plenty of restaurants. I slept well and was excited to be getting a proper in break Sochi very soon.

The ride into Sochi was chaotic. The road winds in around the mountains with the Black Sea to your right as you head south. It was a dramatic change from the boring long stretches I’d endured for days. The temperature also changed and I was reacquainted with the humidity akin to my home town Brisbane. Although in good condition, the road was mostly single carriage way each way with with regular overtaking lanes. In fact, what I thought was quite impressive is that technically, it is mostly three lane highway, with the middle lane alternating between being an overtaking lane for one direction and then the other. A pretty smart design amid the constraints of budget and available land on the side of the mountain. Of course, the bike did what it does best and I overtook hundreds of cars enabled by my small size and vast power. It felt good to be twisting and turning along the coast, but I certainly was exhausted when I reached Sochi. The concentration does take it out of you and I was certainly not going get complacent about Russian driving.

Sochi also was chaotic. Constant traffic, hotels jammed into every square inch of space. The city seemed to stretch on endlessly and in some ways reminded me of a slightly less glamorous French Riviera. I checked into my hotel and had a shower and laid down to relax. After a few minutes I was down collecting the last of my bike luggage when I noticed some jovial Swedes swigging away at their beers dressed in their football jerseys and draped in the iconic Swedish flag. I started chatting to them and joined in the obligatory consumption of beer. After introductions, they informed me they were off to the game (Sweden vs Germany) and the taxis were on their way. I was then unexpectedly offered a ticket for half price. I thought why not and before I knew it, I was jammed into a taxi on my way to Adler (which is about a 45 minute drive south of Sochi where the Stadium is located along with the Formula One race track and the various venues for winter sports. After about five minutes, I had a very disconcerting thought. My passport was back at the hotel! I told the guys to pull up and I jumped out. Said I’ll see them out there and hoped for the best.

After one angry taxi denied my request, I bolted across the busy road and managed to hail another one after only two minutes. Not only did he take me to the hotel, but he waited for me and then took me to the stadium… a huge time saver!

Note: I needed my passport to pick up my Fan ID. Basically, I had managed to jump online and get a ticket for the Australia vs Peru match scheduled three days after the Sweden vs Germany match). In order to get into a game you must have a Fan ID. Interestingly, Russia also allowed visa free travel to the FIFA World Cup for all fans AND if I had have been more organised/interested I probably could have bought a ticket to the world cup and got my Fan ID before entering Russia. It would have saved me the hassle of acquiring a Russian visa (which I can tell you is a hassle) and actually paid for itself. i.e. a Russian visa costs about the same as a World Cup ticket. Nevertheless, the World Cup was the last thing on my mind when I was preparing for Adventure Part 2. Interestingly, at the conclusion of the World Cup, Putin announced that anyone with a Fan ID can travel to Russia again as many times as they like until the end of 2018! Quite a gesture! It means I could actually ride all the way across Russia now if I so choose! But that won’t happen unfortunately.

And so with luck on my side, I not only picked up my Fan ID, but also my ticket for the Australia game (which saved me the hassle of returning to Adler again before the game), tracked down the Swedes and before long was standing in amongst an army of Swedes marveling at the atmosphere inside Sochi stadium not quite able to fathom that I was on a motorbike only two hours earlier!

Well, the game was simply incredible! Sweden took an unexpected lead, then Germany levelled and with barely 10 seconds remaining in injury time Germany scored an incredible second goal from a free kick and in that one instant the heart of a nation was torn in two. Whilst every Swede expected to lose at the outset, to do it in such fashion was utterly brutal. Ironically, Germany would somehow fail to qualify for the Round of 16 whilst Sweden would go on to have a very good tournament, performing better than anyone’s, including their own, expectations.

After exiting the stadium, we didn’t get far. The post-match party was in full flight. Everywhere. With pop up bars, people gathered in open spaces, singing, cheering, it really was an atmosphere to enjoy. My new found Swedish mates, Felix and Freddie were interviewed by Bolivian tv and we were also bailed up by some Russians who again insisted we drink their home made vodka with them. The usually toasting of nations was carried out, repeatedly mind you, and we ventured forth to the nearest pop up bar. It was hard to endure the smug looks of some of the Germans, but most were very polite and humble about their last gasp victory. By about 4am after multiple rain showers, the three of us discovered we were literally the last to be leaving the stadium grounds. As we wondered about we came across a guy who we offered some money to get us back to Sochi. He too, had his own problems, but luckily he got a jump start from seemingly the only other car remaining and before we knew it we were on our way back to Sochi in our makeshift taxi at four in the morning. My foray into Sochi nightlife would set a pattern for the next few nights.

I explored Sochi a little, went to the beach, took the cable car up to the mountains for a view of the city and the sea and also checked out the FIFA Fan fest areas where other games around the nation were being broadcast. The beaches are like a lot of European beaches: pebbled, narrow and not many waves. But with the humidity in full swing, a dip in the ocean really freshens you up. Our second night was more civilised and Felix, Freddie and I enjoyed a nice meal at a restaurant. The third night however, had us out and about. Just like Moscow, football fans were everywhere and we continued to meet locals and international fans alike. With the Australia vs Peru game approaching it seemed that half of Peru had descended upon Sochi and whether one liked it or not, it was a constant party atmosphere. For the record, I happened to like it. Plenty of Aussies were present and I chatted to many as they did their best to represent us in the party stakes. Again, I was meeting Russians all the time. They really loved the opportunity to play host to so many foreigners and the welcome was warm. I’m just glad they weren’t all carrying vodka because it starts to take it out of you. It seemed you’d drink vodka with the Russian men and dance with the Russian women. Not a bad balance.

As the Australia game approached, so too did the end of my time at Sochi and in Russia. Again, the atmosphere was incredible. There is no doubt the Peruvian fans outnumbered the Australians 2-1 so despite my fierce sporting passion, I did feel happy for the Peruvians when they beat us. This after all was their first ever World Cup win and I think their first ever goals. We got done 2-0. Some beautiful Russian girls were seated in front of me at the stadium and the three of us went out for dinner after the game. Tonight was going to be a quieter night for me, but the bus back to Sochi would be one last chance for revelry. As I walked to the bus terminal a met an incredibly happy and boisterous Russian. He was big man with a big heart and he’d obviously had a bit to drink. Well, a lot actually. But that didn’t take away from his charm. Having lived abroad as a youth, his English was excellent and we walked toward the bus stop enjoying a good chat about anything and everything. He was most worried about the fact that earlier in the evening he’d broken his belt. But I assured him it was fine, even as he continued to pull up his big baggy shorts every five minutes. Before long we were on the bus with a bunch of other stragglers: Russians, Peruvians and Aussies in that order. Before long, my new found friend decided it was time liven things up and so we did. He would start singing a Russian song, I would google it and join in. The very quiet and unprepared audience were treated to a host of tunes, some of which they were able to join in to. Before long laughter was filling the bus and people were smiling and sharing glances all whilst my most talented friend sang loudly, gesturing with one hand and maintaining a firm grip on his strides with the other. It wasn’t a bad end to my time in Sochi. Four nights of FIFA, fun and frivolity. It was a great decision to go there, yielding me two World Cup tickets, new friends and a whole lot of sleep deprivation.

The day I was to ride out was less than pleasant. I’d finally succumbed to a head cold and I had one massive journey ahead of me – the ride to Stavropol. I retraced the coastal route north and soon turned East into the mountains and enjoyed a stunning ride in and out of villages all whilst racing the train that continued to cross my path and block me at the train signals. Stavropol was pleasant and the centre had some nice fountains and monuments, but I was really just overnighting. I had one more journey left to get me to the border and this was to the city Astrakhan. The thermometer was really starting to heat up. As it breached 40 degrees I wallowed ever so slightly in misery as I endured the head cold and straight boring highways of Russia once more. In 30 days in Russia, I calculated that an enormous nine of them were occupied with riding! Maybe not full days, but always at least a decent half day. The vastness of Russia is quite incredible. I was used to people underestimating vast journeys having come from Australia, but now I was on the receiving end and even now it’s hard to comprehend just how enormous Russia is, and I barely skipped through a third of it. I am yet to work out how many kilometres I rode there, but it numbers in the many thousands.

I pulled into Astrakhan exhausted. The heat was oppressive and despite the beautiful river that flowed through the city, I was feeling less than excited to be a tourist in yet another town. Nevertheless, the next day I took a long walk around and was rewarded nicely. Some beautiful lakes, water features and gardens gave the city a nice feel and it had its own walled Kremlin which appeared to be the main tourist attraction. Still the heat persisted. Between that and blowing my nose a hundred times a day I made the most of my two night stop and rested up, ready for my next country Kazakhstan. Looking at back at 30 days in Russia, I was in awe of so many incredible experiences and one particularly bad one being the crash. Catching up with Trevor and Atul, meeting Katya and sharing in the joy and festivity of the World Cup were among the highlights. Seeing famous buildings, riding the metro, wandering through the parks and museums and simply just being in the grand cities of St Petersburg and Moscow were equally incredible experiences I will carry with me for a long time. Finally, the welcome and friendliness of the people I met. The man who aided me after my crash, Andrey and others who helped Sheldon and I get our insurance, Nikolai the truck driver and his motocross mates who got me up and running, the guys in Voronezh and Krasnodar who diligently and efficiently worked on my bike, so many little interactions that leave you with a smile on your face. I haven’t even begun to mention all those that crossed my path and made my visit richer for it, but there were many. I knew a chapter was now closing and my next experience would be different again. I was finally entering the ‘Stans, something I’d dreamed of doing for a long time. My time in Russia answered so many questions I had before, but left me wanting to know and see more. There was so much I simply didn’t have time to see or do, but the enduring thought was that I’d be back. And thanks to my newly acquired Fan ID, it may even be sooner than I think.