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Published: September 26th 2007
Early morning I wake up - around 5:30 - probably because of my less than pleasant sleeping position: as we put the tent up on a slight slope, my head is actually about 10cm lower than my feet, which didn't make for a great night's sleep. Then I realise: it's 6:30! Forgot about the time difference again, I really must change my clock forward. As Hans is up as well, we decide to just get up, pack away our stuff and flee the still mosquito-infested meadow.
In the next town on the way, Eliskes, we stop to get some cake for breakfast which we then, along with the obligatory coffee, have for breakfast a little bit further down the road. The following 30km go by fast: a slight wind from the side, good road conditions, and we're in Salcininkai in no time. On arrival, I go and get some money (broke again...), then use some of that to get provisions before we continue on towards Medininkai, now only 25km away.
On the way, we're caught in a short shower, but the rain soon stops, allowing us to continue. Full of enthusiasm, I proudly predict that we'll be at the
Going shopping...
Lithuanian style!border crossing in an hour. Almost the moment I make that prediction, the roads turn back to washboard-style gravel-sand paths from hell and slow us down to a crawl, as we're forced to push most of the way. As this slows us down so much, a thunderstorm that has been sitting in our back for a while now catches up with us and we have to take shelter under a tree some 2km before Medininkai. Soon, the inhabitants of a nearby house - completely pissed drunk - decide to pay us a visit and stop by for a chat. While they talk at me, the rain stops and Hans takes the chance to take flight, forcing me to shake off our hosts and follow him. Soon, the thunderstorm catches up with us once again, and we take a break under the next tree down the road. We decide to make the best of our situation - time for a snack. Once the rain stops, we pass Medininkai and arrive at the border.
Since we're visiting Belarus on humanitarian visas, there shouldn't be much of a problem at the border - humanitarian organisations usually get priority treatment. The Belarussian head
Just one hour to go!
At least that's what I thought...until this road came along! of the organisation sent us a list of documents to get us across the border, all in Russian, along with our passports, so we should be fine. The crossing is a drama on 4 acts: first, vehicle registration. The lady gives us a slightly confused look, not sure how to fill in the form asking for engine make and model when faced with two bikes, scribbles something in Russian and waves us through. Next stop, visa control. Border police wave us right past the line of cars to the front, where we have to fill in registration cards. A very nice and slightly amused soldier uses his entire 5-word strong vocabulary of English to explain what we need to do. Of course, the registration cards need to be filled in in Russian, 4 times. Good thing we have a template I can copy from, even though I don't have a clue what I'm writing on the forms. Our friend in the uniform keeps stopping by to make sure everything is ok.
To make up for his kindness, I get a real Russian dragon at the counter where I hand in the visas, registration forms, and invitation letters, who threatens
to eat me alive, because she can't find my vehicle registration card in my passport. Two more stations on the way out: customs is no problem, I guess they assume we don't carry more than the allowance of alcohol and cigarettes in our panniers, and finally another stop with ladies checking the passports yet again, before we're released into the "unknown centre of Europe".
We find ourselves on a large, dual carriageway road, fortunately with a wide shoulder. First stop by a petrol station to take in the new country. In the country for less than 5 minutes, I already manage to embarrass myself when asking to change Lithuanian currency to Belarussian rubels at the pay stance for the petrol station. Somehow, the sign above the КАССА listing the variety of currencies accepted for payment must have confused me - they take Russian and Belarussian Rubels, as well as Euros and US Dollars. Go figure.
It's another 23km until the next town, where we might find a hotel - and I would really like a room with a shower. Hans doesn't want to push that far and wants to just pitch the tent, while I want to go
Caught...
...by the rain...not too happy about that... on - sounds familiar? Anyway, another thunderstorm rolling over our heads makes the decision for us, and we seek shelter at a truckstop, Belarussian style: a grassy meadow with some wooden huts and a few trees. We push the bikes under one of the trees further from the highway, pitch the tent, and get inside, the thunderstorm over our heads. No point in even thinking of going any further, we call it a day.
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