Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
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Tim
The Finnish border guard looked bewildered.
'Are you crazy? You are sure you want to do this?' He shook his head.
'Yep,' I replied, feigning confidence.
'Well, just be very careful. You know what those Russians are like. Russia is
dangerous! Even we Finns don't go to Russia alone, especially for such a long time.
But an Australian, by bike?'
With a look of sincere pity he stamped my passport and handed it back. I offered
him a nervous smile and strode out of the swish customs building. My Russian
chauffeur, Alexsei, was waiting outside.
'C'mon, c'mon, Tim, faster. We are running late!' He nagged in Russian from
behind the wheel of his clapped-out old van. As usual he was wearing a worn-out
leather jacket and a lopsided baseball cap over his thinning hair.
After several attempts at starting the engine, it spluttered spectacularly into life.
I leapt into the front passenger seat and before I had even closed the door, we
lurched forward under the rising boom gate.
Then Finland was behind us.
It was only a kilometre or so across no-man's land to Russian customs but it
dragged out in a long dreamlike sequence. I held the ill-functioning door shut, and
felt my head bobbing up and down with the convulsive rattle of the van. For many
months I had been working towards this day but in all that time, I had not clearly
thought out the reality of what I had decided to do. My plans were still as vague as
they had been from the beginning: I am going to ride a bike with my friend Chris,
10 000 kilometres across Russia, Siberia, Mongolia and China to Beijing.
Between stretched a realm of mythical places, far off wonderlands. I had a
vague understanding that between us and the end lay snow, cold weather and even
the Gobi Desert in Mongolia. It was a prospect that tempted my imagination and
left me feeling frighteningly exposed, naïve and young. The size of the land alone
