Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Bratsk - Ulan Ude
Mid-Summer 2000
———
Tim
We drifted into the city of Bratsk amid haphazard traffic of Landcruisers, Ladas
and trucks; they swerved about trying to overtake on a road without marked lanes.
Every sign of civilisation, from bold advertising billboards to impatient drivers and
towering apartment buildings, came as a welcome change to life on the
BAM
. The
bitumen roads, mosquito-free air and abundant food were all we had dreamt of in
recent days.
As usual at mid morning, my stomach felt close to total implosion. 'Chris, let's
find a
stolovaya
!' I yelled, as we rolled down the main street.
I don't have very many bad memories of Russia, but finding a place to eat would
have to be one of them. On many occasions we'd traipse up and down streets for
hours, searching for a reasonable feed. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union many
of the cheap
stolovayas
had closed. During the devastating economic downturn
most people discovered that it was hard enough to survive, let alone eat out. With
the rise of a wealthy class, cheap venues were replaced with exclusive restaurants,
beyond the reach of the average citizen.
The cheaper places were usually hidden behind faceless doors, tucked away in
student dorms, or down sidestreets in the basement of apartment blocks. They were
relics of an era when advertising and customer service were almost nonexistent.
'Hey, Chris, what about that place over there?' I called out, excitedly. A painted
sign had long since cracked and peeled, but the faded letters were an unmistakable
clue:
stolovaya
.
We left the bikes opposite the
stolovaya
so that we could keep an eye on them
while we ate. Inside we ordered borsch soup, macaroni with rissoles, pancakes,
potato salad and tea. Beyond the counter each tea glass had a centimetre of sugar
