Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Novosibirsk - Bratsk
Mid-Summer 2000
———
Chris
I sat in the bum-shaped curve of a fallen tree at the bottom of a grassy slope and
chewed at the end of a pen. On my knees, I held a notebook full of Russian words
that I was trying to learn, and resting on the log beside me was a long letter to Nat
that I'd been trying to finish. I was only twenty kilometres from Novosibirsk, and
as long as Tim arrived sometime that afternoon, I'd be talking to Nat on the phone
in the morning. Somehow, I couldn't put my energy and my thoughts into a letter
that wouldn't reach her for another month.
I gave up and looked around for something else to do. The headset that connec-
ted my handlebars to the bike frame had come a little loose over the previous week
and it needed adjusting, but I didn't feel like hauling out my tool kit and getting
all greasy. I went for a stroll along the grassy bank and eyed off a few prospect-
ive pieces of firewood instead, but the pile by the tent was already more than big
enough to last the evening. In the end, I turned back towards camp and did what I'd
wanted to do all afternoon. I grabbed a water bottle and set off up the hill to find a
stakeout spot where I could watch for Tim.
No sooner had I reached the top, than I saw a familiar, smudgy white and brown
blob on the horizon. I did a double take and looked again. The blob wobbled its
way into focus and became Tim on the bike. I raced back down the hill feeling ri-
diculous and settled on my log just in time to see Tim ride over the top of the hill.
He came hurtling down with a huge grin and braked to a squealing halt beside me.
'Long time no see, mate. How'd you go?' I asked, smiling.
'Yeah, not too bad,' he replied, casually. 'Had a few problems with the bike, but
other than that …'
'Oh, yeah. What happened?'
