Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The idea of waves, surfing and sunny beaches in Australia seemed beyond
imagination. Many of the children had most likely never been much further than
the village surrounds. The boys' slicked-back hairstyles, britches with belts and
buttoned shirts reminded me of another era.
We chatted for hours, signed autographs and got through the waiting list of those
wanting a ride on the bikes. By the time we had signed the last of countless auto-
graphs, I could barely stand on my feet. I was starving.
After lunch we watched a dance performance put on by a group of younger stu-
dents. It was a traditional dance of the Udmirtskaya Republic. The Udmirtskayan
people, now a minority, are related to the forest-dwelling cultures that inhabit the
north, like the Finns and the Karelians.
Little boys daintily skipped about like gentlemen with straight backs and looks
of intense concentration. The girls, with their frilly dresses and large eyes, smiled
proudly as if they were conscious of their elegance even at such an early age. Lean-
ing against the ribbed log wall, the bearded teacher strummed away on a balalaika.
Beside him a woman played an accordion.
The playfulness and innocence was reminiscent of children anywhere. The pur-
ity of the occasion was what affected me most.
When the clanging of the old school bell rang out, it was sadly time to leave. As
the children assembled to wave goodbye, we were presented with a wooden-face
carving as a gesture of good luck. An inscription on the back read: 'To Tim and
Chris - We thank you for your courage and inspiration and hope to see you again
one day.'
There was just one nagging issue that had surfaced during the visit. The teachers
had been shocked to hear that we were camping in the forest.
'We Russians don't even go near the forest at this time of year. Don't you realise
there are ticks everywhere? If you get bitten, there is a high risk of getting infec-
ted,' the bearded teacher had told me.
These warnings added another piece to the puzzle that was 'travelling' in Rus-
sia. In autumn we had been told to wait until the snows came and the mud froze.
During winter we were advised to start cycling in spring. As the snows slowly
melted we were politely told that what we were doing was impossible, and that we
would have to wait for summer. Now that it was the end of spring, the ticks were
reason enough to put off the journey until midsummer, when the tick season would
be over. It was reasonable to expect that mosquitoes would put the remaining sum-
