Half Way Round: Two English Twits and a Stuffed Toy Dog

Well, we've certainly adhered to the phrase “Keep on Truckin'”, cos for the past 2 weeks we've hardly seemed to stop moving. It's been a mixed bag of journeys; on days where we've been leaving a city it's invariably taken an hour just to drive out to the city limit, so progress is slow, followed by constant slowing to 60km/h in all the villages we drive through (and there are many West of Siberia); when we crossed the Ural Mountains we spent half the trip crawling up the hills behind Kamaz trucks that belch out goodness knows what from their exhausts. Lots of old lorries.

In some places, we come across large truck stop
areas – cafes, workshops, prostitutes probably ('old'-style truck stop left and below (there are new ones about, with modern buildings, although they are just as muddy - Russell)). The pollution here can be so bad that visibility is reduced and you want to stop breathing. Then suddenly in Siberia, they seem to have different rules about where you build a road, and have decided to bypass most villages and towns – such an intriguing concept...

So, other driving issues (aside from our current one which involves a mystery light on the dashboard having come on in Elmo (our Toyota). The downside of a grey import vehicle is that it doesn't come (or certainly Elmo didn't) with a car manual which might show you what exactly that particular light means.
Firstly – two motoring fines, both surprisingly clocked up by Russell. I'll let him tell you in his own words:
(21st May – speeding. Radar clocked at 80Kmh (allegedly) in a 60 zone. Sternly ushered into the police car, where a colleague, charming, wrote down a figure of 600 rubles; I had no change, so he directed that I place the 1,000 ruble note I was holding into the car's centre console and pointed for me to go. The fears I had had about not knowing how to bribe my way out of situations were completely allayed; with years of experience on their side, the traffic police make giving bribes a simple process.
22nd May overtaking in a no overtake zone. I was adamant that I hadn't. DPS (traffic police) guy did a drawing to demonstrate what I had done. Wrote down a figure of 5,000 rubles. After much arguing (through gestures), he put a question mark against it and handed me a pen. I crossed out the last zero. He shrugged and said yes. This time I found the right change. I have since read that my speeding fine should have been only 100 rubles).

Secondly, what was supposed to be a paragraph or two about the number of accidents we see on the roads every day, is now slightly more poignant since we became one of these statistics too (albeit not on the same dramatic scale, by any stretch of the imagination). Read Russ' bit first, then I'll tell you more: (We see a lot of Russian-made cars and trucks at the road side with their bonnets up. Lots of new and second-hand trucks have been bought from the US and cars are being directly imported from Japan, still in right-hand drive form. Also, we witness the aftermath of more accidents in a day here than we do in about 6 months at home. Usually trucks that have driven off the road into the drainage ditch. Most just slide the cab in. some topple all the way over. In the absence of a ditch, one drove into the front of a house. Usually, there is another truck parked up with them, offloading the contents of the trailer - Russell).
Where was I? Oh yes, our “Big Adventure Day” as we've fondly come to think of Tuesday 3 June 2008. We'd wild-camped the night before and true to form with the Russian weather every time we camp, it rains by morning, so this time Russ decided to be canny and put his wellies on whilst we dismantled our tent and packed stuff away in Elmo. It was still raining all the while I did the first driving shift (we take it in turns of about an hour each), then we pulled over into a junction and swapped over (where we sat for a while waiting for a hail storm to pass, and got slightly worried because we weren't sure if the windscreen would get damaged - seriously). Less than 5 minutes down the road Russ realised he'd still got his wellies on and would prefer to change into his trainers. It's still raining, as Russ slows down and pulls over to the dirt verge ...
At this point I'll digress slightly to explain about Russian roads (I don't think we have gone into this already?) Russian roads, particularly rural ones, tend to be built up much higher (between 1 and 3 metres usually) than the surrounding land, which is very wet or marshy in most places. I think the water run-off from the roads also collects in the created ditches, as there is no drainage system as we would have in place. The roads are mainly single carriageway, but there's always a dirt verge that runs along the side of the metalled roads on both sides, which is popularly used by many Russian drivers to undertake, or to pull over onto when they need a pee.

... so Russ slows down and pulls over onto the dirt verge, and as the wheels hit the dirt we realise that the dirt, mixed with over 12 hours of rain, has become the muddy equivalent of a skating rink. Russ is braking, but Elmo's not stopping. Russ is turning the wheels left to get us back on the road, but Elmo is continuing to slide right. As we glide over the edge of the verge and begin our sideways descent down the 3 metre slope Russ is still desperately trying to get Elmo to go back up, but it gets to a point when Elmo thinks it might be easier to do a sideways roll down the rest of the bank, so with brilliant quick thinking (bless my wife - I just did what you're supposed to do and I really didn't fancy the idea of rolling the car - Russell) Russ turns the wheels to get Elmo facing down the slope and finally we come to a 45 degree angle (well it felt like it - Russell) rest at the bottom. There follow a couple of minutes of deep breathing and expletives that I can't put in here because I know at least my Mum would be horrified to know I can use such words.
At this point we would like to say a very big thank you to Stuart Walker, whose off-road driving course we'd done earlier in the year, and who had suggested the type of kit we might need to get us out of a fix (and to Eddie Priscott at Frog Island 4x4 for the same reason), including the bungee tow-rope that Russ now got out of Elmo and waved in front of passing vehicles. For about 5 minutes we thought that nobody would bother to stop (if nothing else, it's STILL raining), but then a very nice BMW saloon pulls over and 3 Russian guys get out. We can't speak Russian, they can't speak English, but we get the gist that they'd like to help but obviously there's no way their lovely car is going to be able to pull 2 tonnes of Elmo up a muddy slope. These guys do however stand in the middle of the road and flag down an oncoming Kamaz truck with trailer, and get the driver to agree to try and pull us out. We never got the names of these 3 guys, but we are touched by their generosity of spirit for helping us out.
As for the truck driver, again, we are very sorry that we didn't get at least a name, because his patience and persistence for the next hour was a sight to behold. For a while, every time he tried to pull Elmo up the bank, he only succeeded in pulling him along it instead (the result of Emo's ditch-dive, above). Eventually he managed to communicate to Russell that he would pull the back end of Elmo round so that the vehicle would be facing directly down the slope. That done, the driver then patiently waited until there was a lull in the traffic, then he gently manoeuvred his truck and trailer over the the other side of the road, and at last Elmo started to move up, rather than across. (I have to say at this point all I had been doing for this hour was standing around, making ineffectual flappy hand signals as I watched unsuccessful attempts to free Elmo. Russ on the other hand was a complete star, and was either in Elmo, trying to steer, or was running around between Elmo and the truck with the tow-rope, trying to get a different leverage point that would work.) (Again bless my wife for the compliment, but the reality is that the average Russian spends a lot of time resolving practical problems, like repairs and vehicle recovery, and has more common-sense in a little finger than I will ever have. There was at least one moment when the truck driver was bemused by my efforts - Russell). There was such a huge sense of relief to see Elmo up on the road again, and I think we wrung the poor truck driver's hand off, our handshakes of thanks were so enthusiastic. We also did ensure there was monetary benefit for him; I would think we've successfully fed his vodka habit for the next month.
That, pretty much, was our Big Adventure Day. We were lucky to get out of it completely unscathed, but it's going to be a while until I forget that sensation of being in a 2 tonne vehicle that isn't sure it wants to be upright any more.
As for the rest of our travelling, we've motored on through a number of cities, and from Northern European Russia, touching on the Volga Region, across the Ural Mountains (which are more like big hills to be honest) and now into the vast land that is Siberia (which seems to vary between looking like British parkland, with many small stands of Silver Birch amongst a landscape of pasture, and just endless prairie).

We left Moscow and got to Vladimir first, with a really quiet, but quaint town centre, where we stayed at the Hotel Vladimir (left and below) in their cheap rate room, which turned out to be the most bizarre apartment-like room (we've now established that in old-style Soviet hotels, you very often get a “suite” of a bedroom, bathroom and sitting room). In Vladimir we felt like we'd walked straight into the 1950's, or a Pleasantville film set, and because there were 2 other beds, spent a while trying to work out if we'd have to share the room with others (we didn't).

The plumbing in the Hotel Vladimir particularly impressed us.

Nizhny Novgorod looked nice when we got there and we would have enjoyed it, had we been able to find a hotel to stay in, but everywhere was full, apart from one hotel which had an apartment available for the equivalent of GBP300. We ended up risking a motel on the road to Kazan at 8pm that night, but got a comfortable room with shower and toilet for GBP30.

Kazan, in Tartarstan, and the Volga Hotel, where we stayed for 3 nights. There was also the marvellous plus that they were “testing” their new WIFI system, so we got to have loads of free internet access. A very clean city centre, with evidence of money from their oil in all the new, Western-style build that's going on. (Kazan, like a number of other cities, has 'benefited' from Central Planning and has a city-wide hot water supply. However, in the Summer, it rarely works. In fact, it is normal for district heating supplies to be turned off for maintenance during the summer months - Russell). A few buildings places have their own hot water heating, but not our hotel (it did have two showers with their own boiler, though). Of note was our lunch on the 2nd day at El Macho, a Mexican-themed bar/ restaurant, where one of the young owners was very helpful in trying to translate their menu for us, and where we had really tasty shashlik and salad. Our first evidence of Muslim influence in Kazan too, with a beautiful mosque set right inside their kremlin.

Ufa next and the Agidel Hotel, after a night of wild camping again, this time in a beautiful silver birch copse (there's a lot of Silver Birch in Russia - Russell), where we were spotted by 2 cops, but they were happy enough for us to be there (without a bribe, too. From what we have read, it is legal to camp in the wild in Siberia, apart from a few places that are (supposedly) signposted accordingly - Russell). We had hoped to get as far as Chelybinsk, but a day of driving the Ural Mountains behind crawling lorries meant Ufa was a nearer and more sensible option. Ufa again struck us as a town that's benefiting from oil, with new build, and expensive clothes shops (Prada, Yves Saint Laurent and Dolce & Gabbana seem to be the norm). A lovely receptionist at the Hotel booked us into an old-fashioned “apartment” again, at a “special price” which meant that we paid cash, for no receipt...(i.e. we paid the same rate as Russians, rather than the official tourist rate, and the hotel did not register us with the immigration department - Russell).

Yekaterinberg was next on our list, after yet another (wet) night camping, where we had a toss-up between a nice, new Western-style hotel, and the huge Soviet Bolshoy Ural hotel. We were brave and risked the latter, and once again ended up in a 1950's style bedroom, bathroom and sitting room combo. We stopped another 3 nights here, to catch our breath, do some admin bits and some sight-seeing. Yekaterinberg piqued our interest cos until 1990 it was closed to foreigners because of all it's defence plants... You can sort of tell, as only now are there some modern buildings going up (i.e. like a lot of Russian cities, it looks like the less salubrious parts of Birmingham - Russell). I was also very keen to come here, as this was where the Romanovs, the last Tsar family of Russia, were executed, so we went (I know, somewhat macabrely), to visit the site. (Also, Yekateringburg meant that we had arrived in Asia and Western Siberia. The Ural Mountains were formed when the European and Asian continents collided hundreds of millions of years ago. About 18km west of Yekateringburg, the 'collision' point has been marked (above) - Russell).
From there we moved onto Tyumen, and again initially struggled to get into a hotel. It would appear that their district (or oblast) have very strict rules about registering foreigners and so the cheaper hotels that we tried just wouldn't take us in. However, when we tried the Hotel Tyumen, the most expensive business hotel in the city, they had no problem once we were able to produce a receipt from our Yekaterinberg hotel to prove where we'd been last. It turned out to be a very ridiculous GBP170 per night, but blimey it was lovely! And it wasn't hard to persuade ourselves that we really needed to stay in Tyumen for 2 nights. For the first time since we've been in Russia we had proper pillow-shaped pillows, and proper duvets (rather than a blanket put in a duvet cover), although the first night we were there I slept really badly, cos it was too comfy! I think we pushed our luck a bit here, and I got very embarrassed, (although Russ will disagree with my sentiments I know), because on the 2nd day when the sun was shining, we got our very wet tent off the back seat of the car and laid it out in their (secure) car park to dry for an hour, whilst we had a reshuffle of the car contents.
Another night's camping followed, which got the tent nicely wet again, then we drove on to Omsk, (and in the middle of all this we had our Big Adventure). Omsk is another big, sprawling city, and we spent yet another hour trying to find our chosen hotel. We don't know what it is about Russian cities, but you very rarely get signs that either a) tell you how to get to the centre from the outskirts, or b) tell you how to get out of the centre onto the road you want for the next city. I don't know how rare we are at the moment, driving across Russia, but we've found it a flaw in Lonely Planet too, in that they have maps of city centres, but they are geared towards folk who've flown in or have arrived by train, not people who've got their own vehicles, and so we don't very often know, when looking at a Lonely Planet (LP) city centre map, which way is “out”. Our stealth hotel in Omsk (it just said hotel, no name on the outside!) was cheap and cheerful, with lovely reception staff who didn't speak a word of English, but listened patiently to my atrociously pronounced Russian request for a double room. Our “apartment” this time had a kitchen instead of a sitting room, so we were able to raid the nearby supermarket and actually cook ourselves dinner for a couple of nights (and get our own breakfast, since this hotel didn't have catering). The downside to Omsk is that we couldn't find an internet cafe, and so important admin stuff couldn't be done / looked into.
Originally we'd planned to get to Novosibirk next, but were increasingly put off by LP's assurances that unless you pre-booked, foreigners wouldn't find a hotel room for love nor money. In the end we beat our furthest travel distance so far and managed to do 510k to a spot about an hour outside Novosibirsk, where we then once again camped (in our worst spot by far; I am absolutely not kidding when I tell you that there were so many mosquitoes in the main compartment of our tent by morning, that after Russ had “Raid”ed them, when I got out of our sleeping compartment, I could not step anywhere without treading on bug bodies).

And so we get to today, Monday 9 June, and we've been in Tomsk for 3 nights so far (one more night booked, maybe another night be to confirmed). Tomsk is by far the prettiest Russian city we've been in, so much greenery, and it's a university city, off the beaten track a bit, so it's mostly very unspoilt by Soviet concrete slab buildings. There is lots of money here though, and I have mixed feelings that it would appear that as one of their beautiful wooden houses falls down in disrepair, up goes a lovely new modern brick and glass complex in its place (although I know it's progress, and after all, how many beautiful buildings did we tear down in the 60's?).
Again, we have reached decision time; from here we have to either carry on east now across to Vladivostok, in the hopes that we can get Elmo on a ship down to Australia; or we turn back west and retrace some of our steps through Russia, then down through the Volga region and into Ukraine and Europe (the cost of China is beyond our budget - in effect, about $9,000 just to get the permits, etc, necessary to get the car over the border, plus the (mandatory) guide's food and lodging to pay for. Our other alternative, the 'Stans, involves driving back to Moscow and waiting there a week to get a visa for Kazakhstan - Russell). We are trying to get enough internet time here to do research, as well as Russ now needing to do an oil change on Elmo, and we think (hope) that the mystery dashboard light is the fuel filter which just needs emptying (Between the amount of water about and the decrepid nature of some of the petrol stations (there are as many brand new ones), it doesn't suprise me that the diesel is contaminated with water - Russell).
Russia is certainly proving to be a challenge, and a tiring one at that, for many reasons:
the roads: sometimes smooth, sometimes terribly potholed, sometimes seeming to go through 60kmh limit villages and towns every 10 minutes, other times endless driving through little-changing scenery, because the country is so vast;
the weather: for the last 19 days, since we left Moscow, there's been rain at some point every day. If it's only a shower, that's fine, but when you're driving for 6 hours and the rain just doesn't stop, or when you set up camp on a dry evening, and wake up to find the tent's main compartment has pools of water, in one of which your rucksack (and its contents) has been sitting in nicely for most of the night, or when the verges get so wet your vehicle just slides off them (and in this country, where there's water, there's mud);
the language: (For me, the most difficult part of all this is not being able to understand or be understood. I find this a little humiliating, despite the fact that we seem to be getting, just about, what we need whenever we try to buy or obtain something. I do find it really hard. I think each exchange would be easier if they were a people who tended to have a sense of humour (that said, after economic hardship, Stalinist brutality, the reality of 1990s reform being that you realise that most countries in the world make better goods than you do, the mud and the weather, I would have lost my sense of humour, too) - Russell). We bought a Russian / English dictionary back in the early days of St Petersburg, but so many words change their endings depending on what case you are talking in and whether they are feminine, or masculine, or neutral, or singular, or plural, that it's difficult to work out the unchanged original so that you can look up its meaning in the dictionary. Increasingly the further east we go the fewer people speak English; we are starting to become a “novelty” in some places we go into now, whereby you can see people e.g. supermarket staff turning round to look at you as word gets round that you're a foreigner. Not that I'm slighting Russian people; serious yes they are, but (with a few ignorant exceptions) they invariably have tried to be helpful to us.
If this blog entry seems a little dispirited, please accept our apologies. I think that we're feeling a little worn down now; we've been 7 weeks away from home and our families and friends, with another 4 weeks to get across Russia (whichever way it ends up being), and technology hasn't been as convenient as we'd hoped, with sporadic access to the internet, and phone connections somewhat dodgy, and Elmo (our only constant here) isn't quite right, so it all adds up to feeling a bit alienated and alone. I'm sure by next blog check-in though we'll be much more upbeat.
Below: one of Tomsks old wooden houses.