If you come to Russia because of your literary and cinematic heroes, to see their inspiration and experience a continuation of their spirit, you have in store only abounding dissapointment. What you will find instead is a landscape changed forever by its Soviet days; souless, no-where towns, tower blocks in tiny villages and an intensively farmed steppe.
That said, I have, during my first two weeks in Russia, been shown amazing kindness and hospitality. On my way to Talovaya, with no doubt another ugly towerblock of a hotel waiting for me, a man named Gerna called me to stop. It was my first experience of a Russian dacha and it exceeded all expectations. We spent the day eating food he had grown, talking, fishing and of course...drinking. Vodka in Russia thankfully never seems to come without food - in the long term perhaps this is not such a healthy thing, but so far, I think, it has been an aid to my survival!
Two days later I stopped to lend a knife to Victor, who had broken down along the road. After a couple of hours of following his Lada we were sitting in his dacha and meeting his friends. The two dachas were very different, with running hot water and electricity at Victor's, complete with heated business talk, that I couldn't understand a word of. There was one commonality... a headache in the morning.
It was a fairly uneventful few days to Marx, where, as I was sitting eating food outside a shop, Gena and his mum Svetlana introduced themselves. Gena was on a break from his compulsory work in the army. I have heard before of the harshness of life in the Russian army, but in Gena its effect was only to be seen in the way he effortlessly carried my loaded bike up five flights of stairs. I was made to feel so welcome in Marx and enjoyed fishing and eating potatoes by the Volga, with Gena's friends. In the morning I visited Svetlana's school, where she teaches art, and her Pravoslavnaya church. It was a very peaceful experience. Often, after I have been shown friendship the feeling of being alone again is heightened, but after Gena cycled with me to the outskirts of Marx, I felt very comfortable all day.
My feelings toward the Russian countryside and cycling through it change, predictably, with the direction of the wind.
Miles so far - 3889
Monday, 18 May 2009
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
Yulya, Oksana and Lesya. And Lena, behind the camera...
This is in the amazing Sofiyevka Park. Emma Haslett, you specifically are not allowed to comment on this photo!
Children!
These children ran after me up a hill, brought me water and even gave me food. I asked them what they liked to do in their village. You like Football. "We like drinking vodka!"
Sasha!
Sasha showed me around Nemirov. Well, he showed me all the places you can drink at in Nemirov!
Militsiya!
Never take photographs of policemen in foreign countries... apparently if they do it it's okay.
Igor and Yuri
This was after the best puncture I have ever had. If only every one came with a feast for lunch and stumbling Russian conversation... me doing all the stumbling of course!
Monday, 4 May 2009
Sunday, 3 May 2009
Though their computers never recognise my camera and the potholes in their roads have shaken my bones and covered my panniers with jam; though a bicycle here is often mistaken for an instrument to carry potatoes from one side of the village to the other, and is never seen being peddled up a hill, my time in the Ukraine has exceeded all the expectations I could ever have had.
Over the past two weeks I have begun to realise some of the reasons I wanted to attempt this adventure. In Rachiv my hosts, Emma and Eric, cooked wonderful Hutsul food, and treated me so kindly even though their guesthouse was full.
In Kolomiya, Stepan approached me as I was slowly grappling with reading the street signs and helped me find a place to stay, whilst speaking excellent English. He had taught himself by listening to the BBC world service. He helped at a local English club, to which I went later - to talk about what I was doing and to successfully destroy Matthew's lesson plan - sorry!
My first week in the Ukraine was their Easter, celebrated a week later than in the UK and lasting 7 days. It is a time for eating, drinking and meeting friends. And it was the cause of the first breaking of my 'no-drinking' rule. At the B+B in Kolomiya, Ktrina, Romana and their friends made me feel really welcome: and I spent the night eating their special Easter food, watching bottles of vodka disappear and
having all the toasted kindly translated for me by Romana.
The next day, inevitably, started as a day to get through, with a greater intake of water than usual. 20km from Chernovtsi I was fixing a puncture when Igor, the owner of the house I was outside invited me inside - for vodka and cigarettes, at first, and after my hesitant refusal, for coffee and food.
It is an event that I have happily enjoyed several times since: that on entering a Ukrainian home, as a stranger, wonderful salads and meats emerge from fridges and soups and dumplings are lifted from stoves before the eating and drinking of cakes and coffee.
I will not list every meeting, for fear of boring you beyond tolerance, but everyday I am amazed further by the hospitality of the people I meet. The effect of the kindness I have known in the Ukraine is completely overwhelming and I often find myself shaking my head in amazement and whispering superlatives to myself after saying goodbye.
One of the most memorable times I have had recently, was the rest day I had in Uman. I stayed at a home, whose slightly intoxicated landlady I met whilst trying to find a hotel, with 4 students; four of whom studied English. They showed me around the stunning Sofiyevka Park, and it was very interesting to gain an insight into their lives - and so lovely to spend a day talking to them.
I have learnt so much during my time in the Ukraine. If I could show some of the hospitality, that I have had experience of here, to foreigners visiting the UK, I would be very happy. Beer for breakfast and week-long Easter festivals aren't bad ideas either... well maybe the former has a place somewhere!
Photos may follow shortly, or as seems more likely, they may follow much later.
Over the past two weeks I have begun to realise some of the reasons I wanted to attempt this adventure. In Rachiv my hosts, Emma and Eric, cooked wonderful Hutsul food, and treated me so kindly even though their guesthouse was full.
In Kolomiya, Stepan approached me as I was slowly grappling with reading the street signs and helped me find a place to stay, whilst speaking excellent English. He had taught himself by listening to the BBC world service. He helped at a local English club, to which I went later - to talk about what I was doing and to successfully destroy Matthew's lesson plan - sorry!
My first week in the Ukraine was their Easter, celebrated a week later than in the UK and lasting 7 days. It is a time for eating, drinking and meeting friends. And it was the cause of the first breaking of my 'no-drinking' rule. At the B+B in Kolomiya, Ktrina, Romana and their friends made me feel really welcome: and I spent the night eating their special Easter food, watching bottles of vodka disappear and
having all the toasted kindly translated for me by Romana.
The next day, inevitably, started as a day to get through, with a greater intake of water than usual. 20km from Chernovtsi I was fixing a puncture when Igor, the owner of the house I was outside invited me inside - for vodka and cigarettes, at first, and after my hesitant refusal, for coffee and food.
It is an event that I have happily enjoyed several times since: that on entering a Ukrainian home, as a stranger, wonderful salads and meats emerge from fridges and soups and dumplings are lifted from stoves before the eating and drinking of cakes and coffee.
I will not list every meeting, for fear of boring you beyond tolerance, but everyday I am amazed further by the hospitality of the people I meet. The effect of the kindness I have known in the Ukraine is completely overwhelming and I often find myself shaking my head in amazement and whispering superlatives to myself after saying goodbye.
One of the most memorable times I have had recently, was the rest day I had in Uman. I stayed at a home, whose slightly intoxicated landlady I met whilst trying to find a hotel, with 4 students; four of whom studied English. They showed me around the stunning Sofiyevka Park, and it was very interesting to gain an insight into their lives - and so lovely to spend a day talking to them.
I have learnt so much during my time in the Ukraine. If I could show some of the hospitality, that I have had experience of here, to foreigners visiting the UK, I would be very happy. Beer for breakfast and week-long Easter festivals aren't bad ideas either... well maybe the former has a place somewhere!
Photos may follow shortly, or as seems more likely, they may follow much later.
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