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Published: October 7th 2006
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KAFE TIBET - Buryatia
At the top of the hill just after smashing my knee up. Only coffee, painkillers and a bandage awaited me. Day 125, 3rd October
Ilbinka - Ulan Ude
Today, personally for me, I’ve done 100 days cycling, and 25 days resting! That’s a lot of miles from Stoke on Trent, not just a trip to the shops.
It was really cold last night and I awoke to a layer of ice on the inside of my tent and a damp sleeping bag. What the hell are we doing camping in the wilds of Siberia, as winter approaches with a vengeance. We took our time getting ready and waited for the rising sun to dary out our tents somewhat. Then set off for Ulan Ude in the bright sunlight.
There was a huge uphill where I did something stupid. The others were up ahead, and when a slow truck laboured past me I tried to hold on to the tailgate for a lift, I lost my balance, and came off, resulting in a badly cut knee. Blood was pouring. At the top of the hill there was no vegetarian food at the café, only coffee, painkillers, and a bandage for me. A strange Buddhist habit we found was that at the top of hills people toss coins out
Freezing Night
It was minus 8 when we went to sleep, and bloody cold when we woke up. The railway line is in the background. of their cars or trucks. Over the years, these coins are embedded into the road’s surface, layer upon layer. I looked for the Soviet-era coins, and picked them out with my knife. This will probably anger the Gods - we shall have to see?
I had to go slow the 30 miles into Ulan Ude. We arrived around 4pm and went straight to the tourist office in the Hotel Baikal to find out about over Mongolian border crossing permission. Apparently, you can only cross the border by train, the road crossing is only for Russians and Mongolians, even if you have a car from say Germany, you have to get one of the latter nationalities to drive it across, and you take the train and meet then at the station on the other side. We were told that it would be virtually impossible to get permission to cross on our own, but we were given the address of a government office that we could try tomorrow.
The Hotel Baikal was cheap, and we were allowed to put our bikes in our rooms. I had a single room overlooking the square with the giant Lenin Head monument proudly standing
Angarsk River
The beatiful Angarsk valley with the Trans-Mongolian railway. Here, heading south, about 20 miles north of Ulan Ude. in the centre. Some roads from the square led downhill, and I had this strange “Indiana-Jonesesque” thought of the Lenin head falling off its plinth and careering down one of the streets with the locals fleeing in panic! Too much vodka marijuana I think!
Later on we went out for a few beers and ended up in a strange karaoke place which, because it was in a big hall, seemed like a school-disco with the guys standing at one end and the girls at the other. I didn’t drink much but had the nibbles back in my room and ate all my supplies before midnight.
Total Miles: 6901.51 Todays Miles: 35.73 Average speed: 9.3 Time on bike: 3:48
Day 126, 4th October
Ulan Ude
I awoke in the capital of Buryatia. It’s really different here, for the first time on the trip, nearly all the people look different, and the place has a different feeling also. It was another crystal clear cold day. After our free breakfast buffet, we headed over to “The Office of Tourism of the Government of Buryatia” and met a friendly English-speaking woman named Rada. She had the connections that
Lenin Zentack
With a bit of manoevering it's possible to hide your real head and become Lenin! may allow us to cross the Russo-Mongolian border. A letter was wrote, and calls were made; I had to return later to find out the result.
Meanwhile, Scott had arrived as planned at the giant Lenin head with horror stories of his first 24 hours alone. Apparently, what had happened was that he left Irkutsk one day after us in the snow! He had to climb all those hills before Baikal, the snow got heavier, he had three punctures, and when things couldn’t get any worse - a truck knocked him off his bike, the mirror whacked Scott’s head. If this wasn’t enough, the drunken truck-driver stopped and came up to Scott demanding money for his broken mirror. Scott saw red - and broke his nose for him! Scott quickly rode on and disappeared in the forest to camp, and pitched his tent on a hidden tree-stump. Now that’s a shit day!
He booked into the same hotel as us. Rory and Tobes went internetting and I went back to Rada’s office, no confirmation on the border crossing as yet, but a couple of local papers wanted to interview us, the first at the Lenin head at 6pm
Ulan Ude
Arrival in the city's main square with the giant Lenin Head behind us. Imagine if it fell off and rolled down the streets... that would make a good movie Mr Spielberg. Just throw in a few dozen Nazis for good measure! which unfortunately Rory and Tobes missed. Apparently, we’ll appear on the government’s tourism website. Later on we went to the school disco again and then a boring pub before getting back at midnight.
Day 127, 5th October
Ulan Ude
Was awoken at nine by journalists wanting an interview. I roused the others, Rory and Tobes leapt out of bed like roadrunners, not wanting to miss another opportunity to get their mugs in the limelight …. The media-whores! (actually, it’s quite fun really). We spoke to reporters in the lobby for an hour before heading off out to do our own stuff.
I’d posted Kathryn a letter and some cards, then went to the market to stock up on food and look for some warm leggings for under my trousers. I found the perfect thing for a hundred rouble - “Babushka Troos”. Thick wooly leggings the women must wear in winter time.
Scott and I went to see Rada at 2pm. We had excellent news… None other than the vice-President of the autonomous Republic of Buryatia had given us permission to cross the Russian-Mongolian border by bicycle. He’d ordered the Russian Border Guard unit at
Camp Fire
North of Ulan Ude. With Rory's patent Flame-Thrower, we got fires going in no time (see previous blog for details). Chita to be expecting us and to let us pass when we showed the letter that I now held in my hands. Rada told us that less than a dozen westerners had been allowed to cross this border since the end of the Soviet Union, and that we were very privileged.
Later, I spent a few hours going over my bike, checking everything, tightening nuts and bolts. Then I washed my clothes and generally got everything ready to set out tomorrow morning. I heard load music coming from downstairs and went with Toby and Rory to investigate. We ended up gate-crashing a strange kind of office-party in the function room of the hotel. At first no-one noticed us, then a girl grabbed me to dance, and after that every drunken woman wanted to dance with the foreigners. The dodgy ascpect of this was that every drunken woman had a vodka-soaked man, some in army fatigues, a few in high-ranking military uniforms! We were later invited to a table where the vodka was flowing freely among a group of Buryat men. One guy, a champion boxer in Buryatia, wanted to practice with me! I showed my injured leg, made excuses,
Surly Man
This is actually a shot of the KAFE TIBET's owner. Probably angry cos I bled on his floor. Tobes took the photo, he's good at capturing people. and went off to find the others who had scarpered off somewhere. I went off to the loo and was accosted by one of the horniest women I’d ever seen! She pushed me into a cubicle and started to strip-off, and then started on me!!! Really, I was in no mood for this and for some reason I climbed on the toilet seat to see who was out there to assist me only to see the woman’s vodka-deranged husband looking for her. Worse was that he looked like the chief honcho - the Generalissimo - the head of the local army unit… SHIT!!! I ducked down, and after a few minutes struggling I managed to escape up to my room with my virginity intact!!! Maybe we’ll meet this guy at the border???
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