Crimea, Sibirsky Extreme, Ukraine

Back on the Road

3 Comments

13.04.09 Krasnoperekopsk, Crimea

Well I decided to stay in Odessa for a day and half. Sunday to relax, and then Monday to get some work done, both on the bike and in terms of personal admin following Saturdays problems.

I am at an internet cafe which allows no uploads … so its just going to be text today.  Pics to follow

Sunday morning was time to wash the riding gear … the quick way –  in a car wash.

In the afternoon I was taken on a tour of Odessa by a couple of the guys, which included haaving 3 bikes at the bottom of the Potyomkin steps.  now where have i seen that before???

The evening was spent at a barbecue held by the bike club that was my security blanket in Odessa, the Motor-Life guys. Great shashlik (meat coooked on a skewer) and will have some mouth watering pics uploaded shortly. One of the guys, an ex Soviet Spetsnaz (special forces) troop chap called Berkut (eagle) tattooed the Sibirsky Extreme bike with a scull. The president of the club, German, gave me some great toasts and introduced me to the clubs mechanic, Viktor, who was more than happy to sort out a few niggling items I had with the bike first thing on Monday. Another guy there had helped host Simon and Monika Newbound when they stopped in Odessa for a month about 3 years back. Cant remember their webside off the top of my head, but they rode a pair of BMWs round the world. [edited … just found it  … http://www.spiritsofadventure.com/]

So Monday morning I wake up feeling quite chipper again. Good food and good friends puts everything into perspective. I said goodbye to Sasha, my host for the last two nights, as he dropped me off at German, the club presidents place early in the morning. German and I took the bike straight to Viktor who began working to remake in steel a broken plastic part from one of my panniers. Meanwhile Viktor’s electrical assistant Sasha went to work trying to find the occasionally shorting wires that was doing my fusebox in.

German and I went back to the centre of town to sort out my paperwork. First to DHL as I needed to send some docs to Moscow for a business deal I am working on. Second to a bank with western union counter to collect my emergency wired funds. And thirdly to a bank I almost forgot I had an account with. About 5 years ago I thought about buying a property in Ukraine just after the Orange Revolution and set up an account here and wired funds to it. As it happens I am still on the system and I will pick up a new card and pin number a few days down the line. So have funds and have a card within a few days… things are looking up.

Back to the bike, and all is fixed !!! Sasha found the shorting wires … some pinched wires around the touratech rallye front end I had installed. Viktor had mended my pannier. Everything was sorted. I was a happy camper for the first time in 48 hours.

Viktor and Sasha refused to take payment for their several hours work. German refused to take back the money his guys had lent me impromptu on the street on Saturday evening. It was an embarrassing way to leave for me, but I didnt want to force the issue. I said goodbye to the guys who had restored my faith in many things and hit the road about 2:30pm.  Had a funny scene when I stopped to photograph a wedding party and they all started to pose for me, including the hideous bridesmaid!

Riding till just before sundown when I passed the town of Armyansk in the Republic of Crimea, an autonomous Russian zone within Ukraine. The next town had a hotel with a small single room for 140 UAH (14 EUR), so I took it.

I am about to get kicked out of the internet cafe, so back to the hotel for some dinner for me. But its all systems go again from this end. Bike will get a service over the next few days in Yalta, and i have to wait 4-5 days to collect my new debit card. Should be a relaxed 4-5 days in Crimea.

So its goodnight from me …. (and its good night from him)

Sibirsky Extreme, Ukraine

The Odessa File

2 Comments

A more comprehensive guide to yesterday:

11.04.09  Odessa

I packed up the gear and at about 09:30 left the sleepy Ukranian border town of Reni for the 4 hour drive to Odessa.  The plan was lunch and internet in Odessa, then do about 100km more and find a home for the night.

The cook in the hotel warned me the road was pretty bad.  Certainly the road out of Reni was in bad shape, but once on the open road it was comfortably manageable.  The first hour or so was weaving in and around lakes and channels in the Danube delta.

A young female car driver stopped me for a chat after spotting me taking photos of some local villagers, insisting I take some photos of her, before she zoomed off to Kiev at a high rate of knots.

I had to take a route along the coast, as the road between Reni and Odessa crosses into Moldova briefly a couple of times – which is easy for locals, but a bureaucratic hassle for a foreigner like me.  I sighted the Black sea for the first time, along with its beachy shore.  The beach didnt look too inviting tho today.  It was cold weather.  No rain, but about 10 – 11 degrees all day.

Eventually I reached Odessa, about an hour later than I thought, and it took a good half hour to get into the centre of town, where I knew I could find internet.  I parked outside a cafe with wireless internet advertised on the streetfront, took my 2nd wallet out of my tankbag to reshuffle what currencies were in my reserve wallet and what ones I carried witth me, and sat down to have a pizza, coffee and catch up on 5-6 days of internet absence.  There was a lot of catching up to do, and I spent a good 2 hours updating pics and text and responding to urgent emails.

When I got up to leave and pay the bill, I noticed my jacket pocket (my jacket had been draped over my chair) was open and both wallets gone.  It was a disaster.  All my cards were in the two wallets, along with drivers licence and about 750 eur in eur, usd and rubles.  It must have happened when I popped inside for 30 seconds to have a quick slash, and I kinda suspect the waiter himself who was covering the balcony area (of which I was the only customer).

After a frantic search, I called to cancel the cards.  I will get new ones sent out in due course, but that will take time, and I may not be able to have a reliable place to send them until Almaty in 5 – 6 weeks time.  Fortunately the bank is able to wire me some emergency funds by Western Union.  Unfortunately, it was now after 6pm on Saturday and those funds would not be accessible until banks affilliated with western union opened on Monday morning here in Ukraine.

I found 200 reserve EUR I had tucked away in a safe place and changed half of it into Ukranian hryvna so i could pay the cafe bill and top up with fuel.  I made a search of the alleyways around the Grand Cafe where I had the wallets stolen in case someone had just taken the cash and thrown away the wallets and cards, but no luck.

For both travel and business I had been to the former soviet union (FSU) over 70 times in all, and never been robbed.  I had been swindled out of a 50 buck “donation” by a dodgy Russian immigration official once, but in over 70 visits in over 15 years, I had never been robbed.  I guess while most people are paranoid about security issues in the FSU, I had gone the other way, and treated Ukranians, Kazakhs and Russians like trusted brothers.  Certainly the friendliness and hospitality I have always received in these parts has always been first class.  It seems I had relaxed a little too much.

I drove to the main pedestrian street, Deribasovska, where I once knew a couple of western guys who had an apartment business.  I guess I wanted to see some friendly reassuring faces.  By now it was after 8pm and I needed to sort out accommodation.  If I couldnt find the guys I once knew, I would just ride out of town and into the night, stopping at a hotel by the highway.

By total luck I stumbled across 20 or more bikers having coffee and some food by the side of Deribasovska.  They loved the sound of my Remus exhaust but on hearing my sad story, they insisted on giving me a home for the night and had a whip round for some cash.  I refused to take it, but they shoved it in my pocket, insisting “bikers always help other bikers”.  This is an attitude I had seen several times while on a bike in Russia, and it seems it was no different in Ukraine.  They are always very generous and helpful.  After their street meet split up, a guy called Sasha from the Motor-Life club in Odessa (http://motor-life.ucoz.ua/) told me to follow him.  He had a ground floor apartment and a secure garage.

It was good to feel looked after and to have a home for the night.

Preparation, Sibirsky Extreme

The last leg for Jonathan

1 Comment

I arrived in Linz a day after my girlfriends birthday. It was my intention to be there on her birthday but after 22 hours and 1000+ km’s of riding it was just not possible. Nevertheless she was pleased to see me. I wrongly assumed that now that I was roughly in the centre of the universe as far BMW Motorrad is concerned all would be well and I’d have an easy journey home. Ironically this is when my problems started. The first problem was the chain. It was “slapping” and jumping about a little more than I felt comfortable with. It’s done 16000 miles now but I still expected it to be doing fine especially considering I have a Scottoiler and cleaned it daily.

The chain had loosened quite considerably and it was then I realised that I had lost some tools when my tent went overboard in Wales 3 weeks before. Not a problem I thought. I’m in a big city and know my way around. I visited Hein Gericke the next day for some supplies and as I was leaving I noticed the rear tyre was going flat. Great! My plans of an early departure were dashed. It turns out BMW Motorrad Linz is about 100m up the road from Hein Gericke and the tyre was completely flat by the time I was parallel with the showroom. My dirty battle scarred F800 GS mirrored the shiny new one on the other side of the showroom glass.

If someone had told me of this I would not have believed them. You could not have staged it for a bike to get a puncture outside a BMW dealership. As it turned out the valve had separated from the inner tube. A casualty of some of our dirt track riding I suspect. It would appear that without the necessary clamps the inner tube was slipping within the tyre. BMW also offered to sort out some warranty work and do some software updates so I was resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t be departing on this day.

During my few days in Linz I made a point of visiting Thomas Wonderka. He is a Flickr contact and also interested in Bikes. We met for a coffee and when we left the F800 Celebrity effect was in full swing. A bus load of Thai Tourists had disembarked from a nearby bus and loved it so much they each wanted a photo in turn with the bike. I had to send my girlfriend off at the airport so I had to speed events up a little by suggesting a group photo.

The following day was sunny and I was packed and ready to make my way to Bochum in Northern Germany. I thanked the Elischak family for their generosity and hospitality and after a slight delay from the temporary loss of my mobile phone I was once again eating up the kilometres. Bavaria is a truly beautiful and varied part of Germany. I could have stopped a 100 times to explore and take photos but I really had to make the time up. By early

evening I was in the forested hills of the Rhineland and with the sun setting in the west the land took on a mystical appearance. By 9pm I arrived in Bochum and was greeted by Stephanie Kotalla. She was a neighbour of mine who used to live at my apartment complex in England and only last year moved back to Germany. Once again the hospitality was exemplary. The BBQ was already running and fine Turkish bread and Campari with orange was waiting for me. We have a lot to learn in England. On this whole trip a recurring theme has been the warm welcomes and great food we have received along the way. I was initially concerned about the security of the bike as it was going to be on the street of a Northern European city. In my view a lot riskier than parking it up in the Balkans.

Once again my concerns were allayed because a Turkish Gentleman was guarding the parking area and was very interested in where I had come from and where I was going to. I gave him a Sibirsky sticker and some Euros for his time and he was happy to pose for a photo.

The next morning I had a bit more time to play with and stopped to take some photos of the area. By lunchtime I had reached Ostende in Belgium and took a short detour to sample some traditional Belgian food. Moules-Frites :). On exiting Ostende I spotted another BMW dealership and they had the new F800 R but I had no time now and had to press on to Calais. I made good time and breezed through customs and the channel tunnel, Even managing to do some filming which was of a better standard than my first attempt when leaving the UK.

I had two appointments. The first was with Walter’s girlfriend… (now, now. Nothing like that!) I had to drop off some of Walter’s excess baggage and let her know all was well. The second meeting was with Tony Pettie and his partner Marina. At very short notice (of which I am deeply apologetic) they provided a wonderful dinner, drinks down the local pub and a very comfortable bed for the night. They offered me breakfast too but I struggle with the concept of breakfast so settled for a very nice coffee instead. Tony is integral to the Sibirsky Extreme Project as he is the next rider to join Walter after he emerges from Kazakhstan and into Russia for the push North East towards Lake Baikal and Siberia.

After a few photos I was once again on my way but instead of zipping up the motorway I deliberately continued the Sibirsky ethos of staying off the beaten track and was rewarded for doing so. Quite by chance I happened upon the oldest windmill in the British Isles and later on in the day while riding up the old Roman Road of Watling Street came upon 100’s of Harley bikers. They were attending the funeral of a close friend and fellow rider and were sending her off with an escort. It was quite a sight and a fitting tribute. 2 hours later I was home and felt a changed person. Positive, enlightened, eager to explore some more and of course sad that I could not continue East. Still. better to be left wanting more.

It was a privilege and a pleasure to ride with Walter Colebatch and Marcin Safranow and to have met all the well wishers and supporters both here and along the route.

Preparation, Siberia, Sibirsky Extreme

Meanwhile in the West…

Leave a comment


Saying Goodbye from Jonathan Fox on Vimeo.

After I left Walter and Marcin it initially felt very strange being alone. In contrast to their ascent into the mountains and subsequent fall in temperature my day became ever hotter as I took an unmarked road west across Southern Romania from Calafat to Turnu-Severin. I was surprised by the interesting architecture of the houses and found this area of the country to be a delight. The Danube was never out of site as I made my way onwards to Timisoara. Progress was slower than I had anticipated because Romania is currently undergoing a large road building program. Some of it is finished but there are long sections of gravel and potholes. You can be cruising along at 50 or 60mph and without warning the good road runs out and you find yourself on a dirt track. Approaching surprise off road sections above 100kmh is a new experience for me 🙂

I reached Timişoara in the early evening and was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. Wikipedia describes the city as “Little Vienna”, because it belonged for a very long time to the Habsburg Empire and the entire city center consists of buildings built in the Kaiser era, which is reminiscent of the old Vienna. Timişoara is an important university center with the emphasis on subjects like medicine, mechanics and electro-technology. An industrial city with extensive services, it was the first mainland European city to be lit by electric street lamps in 1884. It was also the second European and the first city in what is now Romania with horse drawn trams in 1867. There are numerous claims that Gustave Eiffel, the creator of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, built one of Timişoara’s footbridges over the Bega.

As dusk began to take hold I found myself in the open country again. I toyed with camping but was mindful of the fact that every time I stopped I was always seem to attract stray dogs who were often hostile to my presence. I must have stopped 3 times to take a photo and each time a snarling dog or 5 would appear from a rubbish heap at the side of the road or from an alley in a village.

I looked at my map and felt I could easily get to Hungary and press on to either Budapest or Bratislava. With a firm resolve and a can of red bull I fired up the F800 beast and got going towards the Hungarian border. I also had the small issue of only possessing Euro’s. I had a finite amount of funds left and so I thought it best to take all the cash from my accounts instead of having a situation where a card was rejected. That way I knew the score. Ideally I needed to get to the Eurozone but I knew I didnt have enough fuel to get me to Slovakia. I managed to negotiate with a kind lady at the Shell petrol station to give me fuel for Euros. It was a win win deal 🙂

By midnight I was rolling into Budapest. I felt I was not doing the city justice by riding through it so late but figured I would be back in a touristic capacity as It is very close to Austria. By now I was totally in the red bull zone and eyed Slovakia and Austria with renewed vigour. I had been riding since 10am and it was now well into the small hours. I decided that although boring the Autobahn was the safest place to be and as I entered Austria picked up a vignette for the bike. They only had a 10 day option but considering some of the fees I’ve had to pay at borders recently I reckoned €4.50 was a steal.

I lost a few hours to delirium and can’t remember the journey from Vienna to Amstetten (recently made infamous for all the wrong reasons by Josef Fritzl) A flickr contact in the area told me that section of Autobahn is infamous for people falling asleep and crashing due to either its design, the distance between rest stops or perhaps strange energies.

To cut a long story short I arrived in Linz at 7am and was warmly welcomed by my girlfriend and her family. I was offered a warm shower and a warm bed and for me Sibirsky Extreme Europe was almost at an end.

Sibirsky Extreme, Ukraine

Those damn thieves

4 Comments

Well just as I wrote and posted that long series of updates, it seems I have been deprived of both my wallets, and all my credit and debit cards by some light fingered son of a gun.  I did at one point leave my table and go to the toilet and left my wallets in the jacket pocket on the chair.  I had both on me as I was in the process of switching between currencies and cards to ones that worked better in the former soviet union.  So here I am now with no cash and no cards.

By chance while riding around wondering what to do next (I just had enough change in my pocket to pay the cafe bill) I stumbled across a bunch of bikers – The Moto-Life Club of Odessa – having a few drinks in the centre of town.  These guys took me in, passed the hat around and got me a bunch of cash to get me through till Western Union branches open again on Monday, and one of the guys has kindly offered me a place to stay for a night or two and a garage for the bike.

All my cards are cancelled, and the only document in there was the driving licence.  But I have the paper copy and an international driving permit so that should be fine.  But I did lose a decent amount of EUR and USD … and it will take at least 2 weeks to get new cards to access my accounts.

So its been a worrysome first 24 hours in the Ukraine, salvaged by typically outstanding hospitality from local bikers in this part of the world.

I will need to be more security conscious in future.

Going where no motorcycle has been before