A week in Russia

Late August

As I've probably already made it clear several times, I'm not a big fan of planning. However you can't set off on a trip if you don't have some idea where you want to go to, and in my case this was Russia. And now, three and half months after leaving home, it was finally time to head to the largest country in the world.

I left Bishkek the same day my Kyrgyz visa expired, making it over the border into Kazakhstan shortly before darkness fell and driving off the road shortly afterwards to camp at the first opportunity. I use the word 'camp' loosely, as on this occasion like many before it, I was merely sleeping on the floor in my sleeping bag next to the bike. However before leaving Bishkek I'd finally bought myself a tent with the prospect of rainy weather and mosquitoes to deal with in the upcoming weeks. The next day I rode into Almaty for the second time of the trip, and headed straight to the British embassy.

I'd had to get my Russian visa before leaving home, and the dates were not flexible. I'd got the latest dates allowable from my application date, but due to my detour South into Kyrgyzia and the Pamhirs my visa was now about to expire. Everyone had told me that it wasn't possible to extend Russian visas, but I wanted to check with the British embassy staff and see if they could arrange for the dates to be amended. I would have around 12 days either to head home to Europe or make it to Vladivostok and put the bike on a ship, and in either case this was a tight time frame. In the event of an accident or a mechanical problem I could risk overstaying the visa and getting in serious trouble with the Russian authorities.

At the embassy I met Svetlana, the lady who had gone to such great lengths to help me when I was stranded at the Kyrgyz border. I was able to thank her for her help, but also to probe her about the visa question. Unfortunately it seemed that the was no likelyhood of getting the visa amended, which left me with a big decision to make. Eva arrived having took the bus from Bishkek that morning, and we discussed my options. Svetlana had suggested I head to Mongolia and then take a new Russian visa in Ulan Bataar, and this looked to be the best idea. The next day I went to the Mongolian embassy and applied for my visa, but even though it was a next day service I would have to wait a few days as it was now a Friday. Eva planned to spend the weekend with me in Almaty then take a train home to Russia.

Over the course of the weekend a drunken idea cropped into my head that it would be possible to modify the bike slightly, and ride with a passenger. I put this to Eva and after a day to think it through we decided to do it, and ride together to Mongolia.

We'd been put in touch with a helpful local Russian biker contact in the city, and he took us to a local bike mechanic to move the sideracks on the bike backwards to accommodate a passenger, and of course add pillion footrests. I'm always a little nervous about letting other people work on my bikes, however it turned out at that our mechanic actually owned a DR350 himself, and had fitted to it custom luggage racks of his own design and construction - He was therefore the perfect guy for the job, and we left the bike with him without a further worry. Whilst he was working we were shopping, and bought a helmet and some Russian army boots for Eva to wear on the bike.

We had to wait an extra day to get a Mongolian visa for Eva, but we were then ready to head off on almost brand new adventure. We had four days left on my Kazakh visa, to ride around 1200km North to the Russian border.

The bike loaded up ready for the off parked up outside the Mongolian embassy.

I'd very suddenly gone from riding a lightweight enduro bike armed with only the most minimal of luggage, to riding with a passenger and the massive increase in baggage you can associate with that. I'd bought new panniers in Bishkek to replace old army surplus bags which had been badly ripped open and were beyond repair, and I'd also bought a tent to replace my basha which had been lost in my first week in Kazakhstan. The panniers (two strange courier style backpacks attached together) were far bigger than the army bags and were perfect for extra clothes we were carrying. The bike certainly felt heavier and less sure footed, but before long I'd gotten used to it and was riding no differently than I had been before. Getting used to the discomfort of squeezing two people onto a ultra narrow one-person enduro seat was not quite so easy though! Eastern Kazakhstan was a pleasant surprise and we enjoyed gentle volcanic hill scenery on the 4 day trek north to the Russian border, the end of almost 2 months spent in central Asia.

Due to budget, convenience and preference, wild camping was still going to be a key theme of the trip.

About as much luggage as I'd fancy carrying on the 350.

The ride through Kazakhstan was fairly sedate, but a little boring as we minimised stops in order to get the neccessary mileage done each day. To be honest I was quite relieved to be leaving Central Asia as the constant attention from interested locals was starting to annoy me, and the poor choice of food and drink was becoming boring. Russia would turn out to be just the change we needed.

Getting into the country took longer than we'd hoped and it was dark by the time we were free to drive off into the Russian motherland. The chances of finding a good camping spot from the road after the border seemed slim due to their being a railway line on either side of the road, so despite reservations we searched for a camping spot very close to the border. Following a little a dirt track we came to a locked gate, and as we were pondering putting the tent up on the track itself as the only good ground someone in the distance fired off a flaregun, and two Russian soldiers approached. The locked gate actually was part of the border fence with Kazakhstan - Whoops! The soldiers didn't seem too bothered and gave us directions to find some nicer land for camping about five kilometers along the main road. Afterwards, Eva told me one of the soldiers had been carrying a gun in his hand, and put the saftey switch back on when they'd reached us and we'd started talking.

Farming, in Russian scale...

Tiny seat!

The main road route to the Altai Republic which bordered Mongolia meant heading up to the large city of Barnaul, but a helpful local advised us of a route that was nearly all-tarmac running through the small villages which as well as being a smaller distance was a more interesting and scenic path as well. The Russian villages were a little shabby in comparison to their European equivlents, but the small shops and garages supplied everything you could need and the whilst the locals always seemed friendly they never being obtrusive with too many stupid questions.

Evening campfire

Booze shop.

As well as a change in culture and infrastructure, there was also a massive change in scenery after crossing the border. We were now in Siberia and this of course meant forests, which to me meant campfires! We had ten days to ride a route possible in two, so we relaxed and took a slow pace taking out time from the riding to enjoy ourselves. The cafes in this part of Russia had a wide range of dishes compared to the very restricted Central Asian cuisine, and we also made use of several banyas - A cross between a washroom and a sauner. As we headed towards the Altai republic the landscape started being more and more hilly, and we were spoilt for choice for beautiful camping spots.

Russia is THE destination for fans of wild camping and campfires.

We made steady progress through the villages and were soon in the village of Aya on the main road leading to Mongolia, the Chuisky Trakt. This was a regional tourist destination so there were loads of outside cafes and bars, and plenty of places to stay. We stopped in a 'domik', a wooden camping hut thing like you can often find in Scandinavia, to give us a break from the tent for a couple of nights. Nearby was Gorno-Altaisk which was the last big town before the Mongolian border, however we were impressed by the range of shops and services available in the villages all over this region including the ones we would stop in further along the road.

Show off my trendy new haircut next to a patch of huge cabbages.

With only a little time left on my visa we had to ride on and cross into Mongolia. The Chuisky Trakt was a perfect condition asphalt road, running through fantastic scenery, and again no shortage of camping places. The final town before the border was a sudden shock though - We were back in Central Asia! The Altai people are ethnically somewhere inbetween the Mongolians and the Kazakhs, however all the villages and towns we'd been to in the region felt very Russian. Kosh Agach was very different though, and had a predominantly Kazakh population - It was so much like being back in Kazakhstan that we even got harrassed by drunken locals! We stopped the night in a yurt outside a shit hotel, complete with alcoholic owner, and set off in the morning to the border at Tashanta.