Kremlin Tour May 2008
Russia is a fascinating country. At times I think it's very intimidating, at others extremely friendly; with one of the harshest histories in Europe. The buildings and the people that survived the wars and 'proletarian revolution of the 20th century' are well worth the administrative hassle of traveling as an individual traveler on a motorcycle. The background to this trip began when I spoke in 2007 with Paddy Maddock about tours to Eastern Europe. He said 'Just Go!, but be careful of paying money up-front to wannabe's. I checked out Horizons Unlimited for leads and recognised the name 'de Jong', checked their website, established contact by email ('We're in Pakistan today, call you in two weeks'), meet them in Holland, signed up for their Czar Tour and paid. I traveled with 12 other individuals within a group led by Dafne de Jong of Ride-On MotorTours. Ride-On pre-booked all the hotels, assisted at border crossings and gave the tour a focus by recommending detours, kept us away from the main drag, but kept their prices down.
This tour was for me 'pushing the envelope' towards the east. The administrative hassle started in Dublin. RideOn recommended phoning around for quotes for insurance - advance purchase of Belarus motor insurance, breakdown insurance for the trip, especially Russian extra medical & motorcycle recovery. Did you know AA-5 Star and Europ Assistance only cover western Europe? that Avia (a pan-European insurance company) sell a policy in the UK through the RAC for medical & motorcycle recovery in Russia, and Hibernian sell the identical policy in Ireland, but exclude motorcycles? Phoning around brokers in Dublin for prices was a waste of time because nobody quoted for new business from buyers going outside the EU; only Carole Nash IC (my insurer) quoted for a Green Card for Belarus (some of the Dutch guys got it free) and sourced medical cover for a motorcycle traveler in Russia, through an English carrier. The Dutch ANWB provide breakdown cover for Europe west of the Urals! Russian motor insurance was bought for a month's cover over the internet from a Dutch company, the Russian visa had to be bought early in Dublin (not possible in Holland) to allow time to buy the Belarus visa in Holland. The final piece of paper was the original Vehicle Registration Form (VRF) which I left sitting on the table in Dublin and only discovered its absence when I stopped for lunch a day before joining the tour in Frankfurt/Oder. A few anxious phone calls before DHL delivered it to the hotel in Poland. A major relief because without the original I couldn't enter Belarus, Russia or Estonia! One sees so much each day it is impossible to recount the adventures, meetings and sights in a journal without boring the reader. Many Russians used pictograms or spoke English or German or knew some-one who did.
On the Road
Leaving Dublin in sunshine on Tuesday 29th on the Stena HSS to Holyhead, A5/M6/A14/A12/A120 to Harwich. Overnight ferry to the Hook of Holland. Off ferry at 7am and onto A15/A16/A12/A1. Reached the German border by lunchtime and stopped in De Lutte for fuel and food. And that's when I discovered the VRF was at home. Thanks to Linda for rushing around, Dafne for ideas, and DHL for the delivery on time! Had a few more beers, dinner and then slept-in Thursday morning. Leaving De Lutte at 10am on the A1/A30/A2/ A10/A12 and arriving in Frankfurt/Oder at 6pm, it was a relaxed ride - good weather, no delays, just cruising at 120kph for hour after hour. Most of the guys arrived in the next 60 minutes and over supper and beers we introduced ourselves.
If you want to ride with a group, you need to keep the group rules. Depart at 8am on Friday means engine running at the gate, so I joined fellow stragglers Peter on the KTM950, Martijn on the 1100GS and Alex on a 1200GS. Caught up with the main bunch at the Polish border money exchange. The dual carriageway rapidly shrank to a single carriageway twistie with truck convoys and over-taking just inside the white line. We stopped in Pozan for coffee and fuel and to agree a route. The direct route was about 650K, and Martin and I wanted to stay on the Pozan-Warsaw motorway A2/E30 as long as possible and take the suggested rural route south of Warsaw. Peter and Alex would have preferred the rural route the whole way but compromised. The A2 was a new, fast motorway but ended about 100k from Warsaw, and traffic spilled onto the type of roads last seen in Dublin. Basically GPS territory, few signs because we were heading east and the main roads north-south, and following Peter because he had a better GPS. Until he left me behind in the rain! The weather turned wetter and as we approached Biala Podlaska it was a continual downpour. The GPS worked wonders bringing me to the hotel, and my waiting DHL envelope. A good supper followed but everything was a bit damp, and tomorrow's plan was a 7am start, 3-4 hour border crossing followed by 550km to Minsk.
The 7am start was delayed by 14 guys checking out of the hotel at the same time, moving 14 bikes out of the tight hotel parking and then buying petrol, but we all made the border at Terrespol by 8.30am, filtering past cars and buses to shelter under a roof. But this was only the Polish side and after some exit procedures we remounted and drove another 250 yards and began the paper chase, filling in flimsy paper forms with engine numbers, chassis numbers, passport numbers, visa numbers, dates; moving between huts where bored officials checked forms against originals while typing into computers; buying optional, mandatory something. After about 2 hours we seem finished, return to the bikes and head on to Brest and Minsk on the E30 as the rain returns.
At the Money Ex, as we will be three days in Belarus, I hand in €100 expecting about BYR350 in return, getting instead 350,000 BYR. After a good cup of kØfe and a pastry at a filling station near Brest the sun came out and things got better. The main E30 dual-carriageway is a toll road, and every 100km the toll was €2 for us foreigners, not BYR4/5,000. Fortunately the operators gave euro-coins back for a €5 note. The trouble was at petrol stations; there is an element of trust (backed up by CCTV) in the west where we are used to filling the tank with petrol (where all pumps dispense 95°, 98° and diesel), quoting the pump number to the cashier and paying by credit card. In Belarus & Russia trust is absent; you pay up-front and each pump dispenses a different fuel - 98°, 95°, 92°, unleaded, leaded, fuel/oil mix for 2-strokes, green and black diesel. And we all queued at the one pump! And some cashiers only dealt with one bike at a time; pay cash up-front, return to bike, dispense fuel, back to kiosk, collect change and move bike. We learnt to stagger our fuel stops; bikes with the smallest tanks fill frequently; bikes with larger tanks go to next filling station and the caravan catches up.
Sunday was free to walk around Minsk, it would be 'Victory in Europe Day', 'Victory over Fascism', in a few days time and the city was getting ready to remember. Wreaths and memorials to the '41-45 War' when Belarus was ravaged by retreating Russians, occupying Germans and then retreating Germans/conquering Russians, probably the whole city of Minsk was re-built, maybe several times. A sluggish river split into lakes winds its way through the city, we visit an Orthodox church, the Government quarter and a tour of the WWII Museum. The weather today was the hottest of the entire trip. Supper was on a moored lake-boat; language was not a problem, an english-speaking waitress was only too glad of the practice.
Monday was a public holiday, and the city looked empty of people as we left on the E30/M1. Only 200 miles/300km today but a 3-hour border crossing into Russia in the afternoon. My second mistake was laying out BYR3,500 (in my mind it was BYR35,000, enough for 21 litres petrol) at a fuel stop. The pump stopped after the money was spent and I just packed up and raced after the guys ahead. After a couple of miles it dawned on me that the fuel gauge wasn't reading 'full' and the pump had read 2, not 20 litres. I'd have to refuel again in 50 miles and fuel stations are few and far between on the Belarus plains. Fortunately I soon saw a sign pointing down a side road to an agricultural station with tanks above ground, mainly low octane diesel, but one containing 95-octane un-leaded. I had the cash and she had the petrol and a deal was done. The bike ran well on a mixture of 98, 96 and 95 octane. At the Russian border just 20 porta-cabins in the middle of no-where, a temporary arrangement gone to seed; Dafne led the bikes into the truck park away from the cars shouting Russian at the guard. Hut 1 for personal passport and visa; Hut 2 Vehicle registration and insurance in duplicate. All in order; then the Boss and clerk take a break to look at the bikes, especially the Irish registration. Then away up the M1 to Smolensk for the night. Hotel Rossia, with its impressive Atrium and public rooms looked like something out of the Khrushchev era with its 2-man lifts and tiny rooms. The high-light of Smolensk was the old centre, and for me the highlight was the Russian style 'McDonalds' a large, cone-shaped, 3-floored, multi-coloured construction of wood designed on the theme of old children's' stories. Not quite fast food, the meat was cooked to order taking about 15/20 minutes. One bought a starter, drink and meat course; eat the starter and returned to the kitchen with a ticket. Then returned to the counter for desert. Very relaxing.
Tuesday was the ride into Moscow. Another 250m/400k day on the M1 with a side trip to Borodino. Unusually there seemed no Irish or English involvement in the battles between the European armies of Russia, Napoleon and Hitler. No Irish Brigades, no flags. After the heat of Belarus yesterday, Borodino was a cold wet place today, yet historically pivotal in European history. The weather improved as we rode into Moscow, in towards Red Square. A tight bunch, 2-by-2. But Red Square was closed for the Russian Presidential inauguration the next day. Dafne made several attempts up one-way-streets to be redirected by detour signs, and we had to do 'U-ies' to try again. But eventually we got along side St Basil's (?) beside Red Square, for a 60-second photo-op before the police moved us on. Then back in to the maelstrom of Moscow traffic rush-hours as we rode to our hotel, the four massive Vega hotels, built for the 1980 Olympic Games and still impressive. While the Dutch guys quickly changed, and headed out for a tour of the Moscow Underground stations