Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
already sitting in the bottom. Sugar is obligatory with tea in Russia; it would just
be
nyepravilna
, wrong, without it. It is just as
nyepravilna
as eating a meal without
chunks of bread, or potatoes with the peel on.
Not long after we sauntered into the
stolovaya
, a shiny Toyota Landcruiser with
tinted windows screeched to a halt and two men with short, waxed hair and black
sunglasses stepped out, mobiles dangling from their belts. They wore crisp white
T-shirts and dark jeans that had been ironed meticulously. Their shoes were pointy
with slightly lifted heels. I thought they looked like city cowboys.
They approached our bikes with an air of confidence, touching the tyres and
gesticulating excitedly. The larger man appeared to be scanning the surrounds for
the owners. He paced up and down the street asking people, and for a while even
stood checking his watch. Eventually, he strutted into the
stolovaya
.
'
Privet
, I am Vladimir,' he said, approaching our table. He then leaned over and
squeezed my hand so hard that I could feel the pulse throbbing up my arm. The two
men drew up some seats, took off their sunglasses and rested their shiny elbows on
the table. Vladimir's hulking V-shaped torso was formidable in the skin-tight shirt.
The other man might have thought he was formidable, but his physique was less
than impressive. I grinned, hoping that the mud on my face and crusty porridge in
my beard didn't put them off.
'So, boys, where are you from?' boomed Vladimir. It turned out that Vladimir
had a personal interest in mountain biking and a passion for living life to the ut-
most. I had the feeling that he was scooping us under his wing with his brutally
wide shoulders and toned arms.
'What can we do to help? We will do anything,' he offered.
All I had to do was mention that I dreamed of a replacement gear changer for
the bike and we were off.
After dumping our bikes at the local judo club we were rushed off to an
outdoor shop. It was typically Russian. There were genuine Gore-tex jackets going
at ludicrously cheap prices, and Chinese junk selling for twice as much. There
seemed to be no logic as to how each item was priced or, for that matter, how it all
arrived here. In Novosibirsk and Krasnojarsk I had scoured every outdoor and bike
shop and failed to come up with a gear-changer, or a tube repair kit. In a city as
small as Bratsk, I wasn't overly optimistic. Naturally, I was shocked when a shiny
component caught my eye in the only display cabinet. Sure, they didn't sell bikes,
had no tube repair kits, but right there sat the exact model of Shimano gear-changer
