Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
'Tim, it's pretty obvious that you are eating more
pryaniki
than me. I think it's
time that you bought your own.' He was referring to the fact that we were buying
all food with our pooled funds.
'Okay, fair enough. But do you understand how bloody hungry I was back
there? I was desperate.'
'Yeah, well, at this rate we are never going to get to Vologda, let alone China.'
'Chris, mate, I am cycling as hard as I can. If we don't make it, we don't make
it. But I am trying.'
'I don't know about you, but I'm going to get to Kirov before we stop for winter.
We just have to!'
'But Kirov is another nine hundred kilometres or so! What about the cold? And
what if something happens? We've got to expect the unexpected.'
'Yeah, but the unexpected almost never happens! If we set our goal at that, then
that is what we will achieve.'
'Sure, mate. All I'm saying is that we do what we can without bloody killing
ourselves.'
Later that evening we arrived at Vologda just after sunset. People were rushing
about in their winter furs, treading carefully on the ice-encrusted streets. I hoped
that a night in the warmth would do us the world of good.
Upon arrival, I stepped off the bike and stumbled about unsteadily. My feet had
frozen up to the ankles and felt like iceblocks hanging off the end of my shins. The
pain was excruciating as I stamped life back into them. Eventually, we made our
way back to the dorm in the basement of the old Orthodox church.
At first light Chris was gone like a rocket. I knew I would find him at the tele-
graph station, on the Internet. We spent the afternoon doing the food-shopping for
another two weeks of riding. The markets were cluttered with an influx of new fur
hats and coats for winter. As we wandered along the boot aisle, I eyed a pair of
valenkee
.
Valenkee
are knee-length boots made from felt. They are traditional and still
used all over Russia in winter. I thought, fleetingly, about buying a pair but decided
not to when Chris objected to the idea.
By the time we reached the outskirts of the city the following morning my toes
were already numb. The ditches were no longer covered in a thin layer of ice, but
were solid to the bottom. Even at midday the sun failed to rise above the tree line
and lift the shadows. There were only five hours of daylight and we 'had' to keep
up an average of seventy kilometres a day.
