Several moments after arriving at the closed three (3) metre
high steel gates, two Russian soldiers appear from inside a small timber office
structure, one soldier approaches and opens the gate, gesturing to proceed
towards the other soldier, the second soldier asks for my passport and
motorcycle papers, says wait, and returns to his office. After several minutes
he returns, hands back my documents and tells me to proceed to the Immigration
and Customs buildings, some twenty (20) kilometres along the road.
Arriving at the more substantial Immigration and Customs
facility I queue behind trucks, buses cars, and 4 x 4’s at another gate, but
within minutes I am called passed the line of vehicles, ride through the gate
and a liquid filled causeway, then pay a fee for an addition quick bike wash,
spayed on with a hose and consisting of who knows what, I move quickly to avoid
being hosed off myself. I am then called to outside the Immigration office
where I complete forms, the motorcycle is inspected, pannier’s are opened for a
quick inspection, a very obedient and healthy looking German Shepard sniffer
dog gives the bike a once over and just as I have completed the forms and am
about to enter the Immigration office, the doors are locked and every staff
member in the facility disappears for lunch.
Just over one (1) hour later staff begin to filter back to
their posts, truck driver’s ahead of me in the queue return to complete their
paperwork and after a further one (1) hour wait, my processing commences. The
cheery female Immigration official rewrites two copies of my forms in Russian,
while I chat to a young male official about my travels and the cold winters
experienced at the border crossing. Then upon completion of my documentation,
my passport is returned, I receive a “welcome to Russia” from the female
official and I am free to continue my adventure in Russia.
During my wait at the Immigration facility I
watched very dark clouds form in the direction I was heading and thought to
myself they looked like snow clouds. I continued on, thankful the storm clouds
were over adjacent mountain peaks and not the road ahead of me because with the
temperature sitting at about 7 degrees I was cold and I certainly did not want
to be cold and wet. As I rode on the storm clouds clear to unveil a blanket of
new snow on the surrounding mountains, providing a beautiful scenic vista for
entry into Russia.
My first night in Russia was spent in the small town of Kosh
Agach, where the hotel accommodation was basic yet comfortable and more than
satisfactory for one night.
The following morning without a definite plan or
destination in place for the day I ride on through spectacular mountain scenery
in the Russian Altay region. Now riding on good quality tarred roads I become
more aware of the problem with my motorcycles front tyre, it has a dangerously
bald flat spot, and at slower speeds the front end bounces along the road like
the front wheel is egg shaped. Not wanting to risk life or limb, I decide to
skip several scenic spots in the region and head directly to the city of
Barnaul to source a new tyre. Barnaul is more than a one day ride away, so I
settle in and enjoy the cool mountain air and Altay scenery while the
kilometres tick over.
I spend one night in a small, beautifully furnished
guesthouse on the outskirts of Gorno Altaysk, the young lady manager speaks no
English, and I speak no Russian, but a price is negotiated and I settle in for
the night. In the same situation after I walk to a nearby café for an evening
meal, I rely on the female hosts / cooks judgment and I end up with an
excellent meal of soup, bread, sentinel, potato and salad.
The following day after a two hundred and eighty
(280) kilometre ride in temperatures sitting just over thirty two (32) degrees after
now having exited the mountain region I reach Barnaul. I stop road side in what
I think might be Barnaul’s mid-city area to ask directions to a hotel. As luck
would have it I am in the street where the hotel is situated, just at the wrong
end, and in a further stroke of luck, the man whom I have asked directions also
rides a motorcycle. I then ask Roman, a local Orthopaedic Surgeon where I might
source a new front tyre, he makes a phone call, say no problem, then writes a
note saying he will be at my hotel at 5.30 pm and I can follow him to the
motorcycle shop.
I settled into hotel accommodation, 5.30 pm ticked over and
there was Roman, on time and ready for the ride to the bike shop. Once at Moto
Haus motorcycle parts and repair shop I meet proprietor and chief mechanic
Viktor and several other bikers, my new front tyre is supplied and fitted, and
then Roman kindly leads me back to my hotel, I thank Roman for his generosity, offer
to return the favour if he is ever in Australia, exchange contact details and
bid him farewell.
I spent several days in Barnaul just walking the streets and
doing not much in particular. I washed my motorcycle for the first time in
about six (6) weeks, using a Karcher pressure cleaner supplied by the hotel and
wheeled out by Sergey, a very friendly and helpful Hotel Kolos worker that
spoke pretty good English. Sergey stood and chatted with the assistance of his
laptop computer and Google Translate while I washed my bike, before heading off
for a four (4) day break including several days fishing. Over the weekend the
regions extremes in temperature are highlighted when the temperature tops 42
degrees, that coming after my discussion with Sergey about the amount of snow
on the ground in the city area and the -35 degree temperatures experienced
during winter.
With a very limited amount
of time to experience Russia, though appreciative of the Russian generosity I
experience from Roman and Sergey, along with the many other friendly Russian
people I met, it is time to move on. I spend a night in the town of Rubtsovsk, Russia,
before riding to the border crossing near the Russian town of Trat’yakovo,
before crossing into my next adventure destination Kazakhstan.
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