Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
As soon as he was done, he would be in a mad rush to get going again. I could
see that his mood had lifted, and that he just wanted to get back out there, where he
loved it most: on the bike. In light of this, I could understand why he was always
frustrated by my meandering. He had a clear idea of what he wanted, while I was
more keen on taking it slow and keeping my ear to the ground for unexpected op-
portunities.
As much as I missed sleeping under the stars it was with some reluctance that I
packed up to leave the hotel. After donning shorts for the first time in six months,
and baring blinding white legs, I set off after Chris. I cheerily waved at pedestrians
and crowds lounging in street cafés until the air filled up my shorts like a para-
chute. I dared not look back at the spectators; I still didn't own any underwear.
The next destination lay 900 kilometres to the east, just shy of the Ural Moun-
tains. We were heading for the city of Perm. Only by breaking the journey into a
series of short goals did the larger aim of reaching Beijing seem remotely achiev-
able.
Thirty kilometres or so out of Kirov we pushed the bikes effortlessly into the
forest and camped in snow-free conditions. The following day, I removed my bean-
ie and felt the air rush through my hair. It felt great to ride for hours on end without
stopping to warm my toes. Finally, I could use the thermos water for drinking tea
and not as a crude way of preventing frostbite.
The increased sunlight brought life back to the forest. Streams glimmered
through the trees and we woke to a cacophony of bird song. Several times I saw a V
of geese migrating north. The snow was melting by the second and lay in scattered
patches like the shredded remains of tissue paper. Plants and rich green mosses re-
appeared on the forest floor, some still bearing ripe berries from last season.
I felt a part of myself come alive again, as if it had long been in hibernation. The
sun caressed my shoulders and face like an old friend. The world was again a three-
dimensional picture with millions of shades of colours. By comparison winter had
been like a black and white graphic in low resolution. Even Chris's face underwent
a dramatic change. He had often looked pale and sallow in the grey light, but now,
almost overnight, his cheeks shone like shiny polished apples.
East of Kirov the forest parted to reveal a series of open fields - green grassy
pastures! The transformation had been so quick. A newly arrived tourist from the
southern hemisphere would have wondered what all the fuss was over winter.
There was absolutely no trace of the cold.
