Weeks 21 to 25: Return to the West – Magadan to Europe: 25th August to 26th September 20149/26/2014 Hello! It’s been a long old few weeks since leaving Magadan and it’s taken us just over a month to traverse the Russian landmass and arrive back at the Latvian border to Europe. What a slog!
After leaving Magadan we began the long (12,000km odd) journey home, but before we could completely wave away any sense of adventure, Ed wanted to attempt the Old Summer Road (one of the oldest sections of the Road of Bones). And on August 27th we attempted it, managing only 45km from the southern side which incorporated three river crossings, plenty of mud, puddles and lots of excitement for Ed. What finally stopped us in our tracks was a gaping hole ahead of us, where over a third of the road had crumbled down the mountainside. It was too dangerous to continue and Ed felt satisfied. Finally in his mind, it was time to head home as we both realised that the trip so far had given us everything we had ever wanted and far exceeded our expectations. We really didn’t want or need anything else… only to get the truck home in one piece. The thought of the long drive was excruciating, but we had to just break it down in our minds into small chunks, only ever looking as far as the next town. Once we arrived back on the tarmac (M58) we would be able to put in +500km per day and really make some progress. For now however, we had to retrace the gravel surfaced road back to Yakutsk and then ‘the road in construction’ back to the M58 (which was dusty and terrible). The return to Yakutsk actually turned out to be very pleasant. The weather remained warm and sunny and on one day, we even sunbathed by a river for a few hours at lunchtime. On 28th August Ed pulled over to transfer some diesel and suddenly was knocking on the window to get my attention. I climbed out of the cab and there, on the opposite bank of the river where we had parked was a giant male reindeer. He had huge antlers that gleamed red in the sunshine and a big bushy white chest. The river was quite wide, so he seemed quite far away. I got the film camera out and put it on full zoom and we managed to get some lovely shots of him paddling on the river bank and staring at the crows swooping around his antlers. It was magical. We finally reached the blissful tarmac of the M58 on the 4th September and during that time we had only had one chilly day. The remainder had been sun, sun, sun. We also reflected on how different the road looked on the return journey and much more scenic. You can’t really drive the same road twice (visually) if you are doing it in opposite directions and the road surface wasn’t even as bad as we had remembered. Overall however, the roads had been cruel to the truck. We had a tear in one tyre, a puncture in another and four chips on the windscreen, of which one had developed into a crack. It was a joy to be on the tarmac, but Ed noticed an odd wobble (this was after he had swapped the front and back tyres around) and a strange vibrating noise coming from somewhere (it turned out to be a tear in the gear stick holder). Also two of the cupboard doors kept falling off in the back and the lock on the bathroom door had somehow snapped off during all the juddering. To add insult to injury, the inside of the truck was also caked with dust from all the thousands of kilometres of gravel roads we had endured since 16th August, and we didn’t see the point in cleaning it until we reached the tarmac. We really were rotters and as dusty and grimy as the truck by that point. Hehe. We arrived successfully (and a bit cleaner) at the blue sapphire shores of Lake Baikal on the evening of 7th September and the sun shone warmly for us. Ed found a marvellous spot alongside a pretty pebbled beach opposite the lake and we watched the pink sun set over the infinite blue horizon of the lake. Baikal is the deepest and oldest freshwater lake in the world and we would be skirting the southern tip of it, now on our way to Irkutsk. On 8th September we enjoyed the lake (and both took a chilly dip!) and the following day we visited a lovely open air museum (the Siberian equivalent of St Fagans), which displayed different types of Siberian architecture, from early Teepee’s to even a beautiful town built entirely from wood (Silver Birch). It was a beautiful place and a footpath through the woods took you past all of the stunningly crafted buildings, and all the way to a sandy9 beach opposite Lake Baikal. It was bliss and we sat on the sand for a little while enjoying the view (eating an icecream), and I am surprised to admit it in the stunning warm sunshine; it was still pushing 23 degrees. Finally on 10th September, we really had to get going and drive, drive, drive, and that’s exactly what we have been doing. Twelve hours (plus) a day, every day, stopping only to eat and sleep. It hasn’t been easy. We took the Russian haul road from Irkutsk to Krasnoryarsk, Novorsibirsk, Kurgan, Chelyabinsk, Ufa, Samara and then to Moscow crossing the Ural Mountains (where we had some snow!) on 17th September and the River Volga (at Samara) on 19th September. Generally the weather was ok, but the temperature dropped severely and we were waking up to frosts (and snow in the Urals). Thankfully however, the diesel heater inside the truck (which has caused us much grief) finally started to work properly (wahoo!) otherwise we would have frozen and the entire experience would have been a miserable one indeed. For the most part we have been chasing eternal autumn since leaving Magadan and the most beautiful displays of colour were definitely between Chita and Ulan-Ude (before reaching Baikal). The hillsides were ablaze with neon oranges through to bright yellows and the richest, pinkest cherry-raspberry reds I have ever seen. It was breath taking, and on that particular day the multi-coloured trees were shrouded in mist and it was a gloomy day but the landscape exuded a glow of its very own. It was amazing. The landscape west of Baikal as far as Chelyabinsk was mundanely flat as a pancake and comprised hay fields as far as the horizon, dotted with coppices of silver birch. Eventually you stopped looking out of the window because everything looked the same and the trip became an internal one, pondering the eventuality that we would soon be home. The present became a blur. Beyond Chelyabinsk however, the landscape finally rose and became interesting again as we entered the southern arm of the Ural Mountains; the natural barrier between Europe and the East. They are not particularly large (around the same height as Snowdon), but they were covered in snow and as we ascended them, fat pretty snowflakes descended from the skies and it was very special. The brightly coloured reds, coppers and bronzes of the autumnal silver birches were dusted in snow and it looked very strange to see Autumn and Winter at the same time. It almost looked artificial. Subsequently, as we undulated over the Urals to Ufa, we were much more cheery. The snow was a wonderful change and although it was chilly, we had a landscape to look at again. Also, unexpectedly, the Ural Mountains are a bit touristy, as we passed several crafts markets selling everything from Samovars (Russian urns for boiling hot water), to Matryoshka Dolls (the Russian dolls that fit one inside the other), knives, art and even crockery and beautiful jewellery boxes made from local minerals (namely onyx). We happily stopped to explore a few of the stalls for souveniers and were impressed once more by the warm humour of the Russians, joking at us for not speaking Russian, but all the while friendly and very approachable. We continued west and crossed the River Volga on 19th September at Samara where the power of the river had been harnessed for the production of hydroelectricity. We drove over the hydroelectric dam in the warm sunshine (the snowy Urals now far behind us) and the view of the Volga was quite unusual as on our right, the water being damned was almost equal height with the road, but on our left, some metres below us was a beautiful river valley of the Volga. From Samara we continued north-west towards Moskva (Moscow), passing pretty Russian villages where every other house had a stall outside selling their harvest (from their own allotments). Giant orange pumpkins sat alongside yams, bright red tomatoes, onions and stacks of potatoes. We also passed stalls selling buckets of beautiful yellow Chanterelle mushrooms collected from the woods, jars of golden honey and homemade pickles and jam, and all the while the babushka’s sat out merrily in the sun, chatting away to their neighbours with brightly coloured scarves on their heads. What made us chuckle however, was that within some villages, a determined and proud babushka could be seen sat next to a small table attempting to sell one prized pumpkin, a single beetroot, one carrot and one jar of jam. (I am sat here even now, regretting that we didn’t buy her prized pumpkin. Hehe). But however small their stalls, it didn’t seem to deter them from joining in with the rest of the village. It was really lovely to experience and such a shame you can’t see anything like it in the U.K….. Finally, on the evening of 20th September we spent the night with the HGVs in a layby some 50km south of Moskva. Sadly, we woke the following morning to find we had a flat tyre. It was our fourth puncture of the trip and Ed had to change it before we could attempt the Moskva Ring Road (Russian equivalent of the M25). The truck was now very weary…. We were using the spare wheel (the torn one now on the roof), Ed had discovered that one of the shock absorbers had gone and on the smooth tarmac, it felt like the truck had a limp. Ed let some air out of the tyres to try and balance the vehicle a bit better and it was then that we decided perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to head down to southern Europe to enjoy the Mediterranean. We were as weary as the truck…. Our backs were aching from all the driving, Ed had cut his eyebrow and cheek whilst attempting to change one of the wheels (it was lucky he didn’t need stitches) and to be honest we were starting to get a bit fed up. More than anything we wanted to get into Europe and then breathe a huge sigh of relief and then, slowly hobble our way home. And on Monday 22nd September we did cross the border into the West and the golden stars of the European flag circling ‘Latvia’ was a welcome sight indeed. We had made it! It is now Friday 26th September and we have been chilling out in Lithuania enjoying the lakes and the scenery. We plan to do lots of walking over the next few weeks as we make our way down to Cracow and to the Black Forest in Germany before finally heading back to Blightly, as our legs haven’t been used much of late. We’ve gone soft! Also, this is our last blog and we hope you have enjoyed sharing the adventure with us. I want to say a big, big Thank You for all the messages received with regards to the blog, and Ed and I find it genuinely touching that so many of you have taken the time to read it. Thank you sincerely for your support and kind words. They mean a lot J We’re not going to promise when we will be home, but not long now mam. Miss you all. Lots of Love. Ros and Ed.
3 Comments
|
AuthorRos: Both Ed and I will be updating the diary blog as much as possible! WTS. Archives
September 2014
Categories |