Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
cruise along on autopilot, leaving the mind free to drift and roam. And even if such
thoughts are mostly just a mixture of unimportant, irrelevant jumble and are less
profound than I always hope they might be, they do inevitably reveal the odd titbit
of wisdom. The reason that cities screw me up so much, I decided in the end, has
got a lot to do with my being away from Nat.
Away from the towns, I'd go for long stretches without any contact with her.
Starving for details, I'd spend hours trying to imagine what she was up to, and cre-
ating faces and personalities for the new friends that she mentioned in her letters.
This would go on for weeks, until all in one burst I'd be hearing her voice through
the phone and spending hours chatting to her over the Net. A lot of love and energy
went into those exchanges and more still into the anguished partings. I left every
city feeling like I'd severed a connection just as we were starting to get to know
each other again.
On the other hand, as much as these stops meant to me, I always felt a kind of
impotent frustration while stationary in a city. I'd come over here to ride. To ride,
to meet Russians and to experience life in the villages and countryside. The cities
were good in that they let us stock up on supplies, but for me they never held much
fascination. It was only on the bikes that I was really in my element and I think that
Tim felt the same way too.
As the days passed, my mood improved immensely. By the time I got close to
Tyumen, I was feeling inspired and ready to get into the next leg of our journey
with new gusto. The time apart from Tim had been a boon. I'd gotten over many
of my petty frustrations and although I hadn't exactly been lonely, I was looking
forward to having a friend with whom I could share thoughts over the campfire.
I pulled over by a dusty embankment exactly twenty kilometres from Tyumen
and found a scribbled note in a plastic snap-lock bag tied to the base of a road sign.
Chris, mate
, it read,
got here last night and got bitten by another fucking tick. Trying
to hitch into Tyumen to go to the hospital this morning and will hopefully be back
tonight or tomorrow morning. Left my bike on the other side of this embankment,
hope it's still there
.
When will this shit end?
Tim
I pushed my bike over the embankment to find Tim's bike in a heap on the other
side. There was another note attached. This one told the story again, in case I hadn't
