Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Our approach to the villages usually went unnoticed - until, that is, the first dog
started howling. Within seconds other dogs would join the chorus and a cacophony
of barks and growls would be echoing through the damp air. For every dog that ran
to the end of its chain and retreated with a choking yelp, there was another that ran
free. Sometimes we had as many as ten dogs in hot pursuit as we made a dash for
safety. Being low to the ground made the experience particularly harrowing; our
eyes were at the same level as the dogs'. Being face to face with salivating, teeth-
baring, wolf-like mutts was the most dangerous aspect of our daily routine, closely
followed by the petrol tankers that roared along the forest roads.
Time on the bike quickly became characterised by bouts of hunger that often
coincided with crashes. Half an hour after a good serve of porridge, I would feel
my stomach begin to cave in until it felt like the wall linings were resting on one
another. In this state my reactions became slow and my dilated eyes began to lose
focus. To counter this, I introduced Chris to
pryaniki
biscuits. These thick sweet
delights quickly became an important part of our diet; with a bag stuffed under our
seats we were able to eat on the move.
As the days passed, I was getting to know Chris a lot better.
One night I lay in my sleeping bag, feeling my legs and back relax for the first
time all day. Chris lay at the other end of the shelter in his sleeping bag so that our
feet met in the centre. The fire lit up a crescent-shaped amphitheatre of thick moss
and a few scraggy blueberry bushes. Now and then sparks rose like fireflies into
the night before blinking out in the darkness.
I found it ironic that in this calming hush I was being driven mad by noise. Chris
was finishing his dinner and each spoonful sounded like the rasp of sandpaper. Ever
since I can remember I have been irritated by the noise of people eating and breath-
ing heavily; it's some kind of hypersensitivity, I guess.
Eventually, he finished eating and tossed the pot clear of the shelter.
'Well, mate, made a nice smoke catcher tonight, didn't you?' he said, with a
cheeky smile.
The smoke from the fire I had made was pouring straight into the tent.
'I swear the damn wind has changed direction,' I replied.
Feeling too tired to study Russian, I put the dictionary away and lay back. Now
there really was just the crackle of the fire and a subtle flaring every time an un-
burned twig caught alight.
Chris broke the silence. 'You know, Nat and I talked about getting engaged.'
