Wednesday, 23 July 2014

Short and Sweet - Russia


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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