Overland with Kids

Andrew says

“I look back at my history and can’t understand how there could have been a wheat shortage - it’s everywhere” (describing landscape from Kazan to Ufa)

Having managed to order tea, fried eggs and 3 slices of bread with ham and cheese for breakfast with success in Russian the day before at the hotel in Kazan -we got it wrong the next and received 4 tiny lemon quarters on a small plate instead of the eggs we wanted. Such was life! We checked out of the hotel at 12 noon - as usual wanting to make use of every penny of our money and every ounce of comfort with showers and a toilet we could grab. We decided as we would be moving deeper into the countryside that we could start looking for places to wild-camp - maybe near a lake or river.

Destination was a bit of a question mark for the first time on our trip - normally we knew where we wanted to go. We had designed an original route that said we should follow a trail north easterly to Perm, Yekateringberg and then possibly catch sight of the trans-siberain railroad. This would take us into the middle Urals with the thinking behind this being - the route would be fairly well-known, safe and traversable. Pondering over the map, we decided to head more south easterly instead - we would get closer to a more unknown area and also hopefully nearer to an accessible Kazakhstan border entry point.

Before leaving Kazan, we got lost, parked up to look ot our maps when a nice man called Ascar who came and asked us (in perfect English) if he could help us (he had studied and lived in Ascot, England from 1993 for four years). Following a chat we were on our way again - this time heading in the right direction (we have GPS and European Sat Nav but throughout our trip, we haven’t attempted to use either - preferring maps instead, the children learn better and we’ve had some of our best times this way).

Heading eastward toward Ufa, it wasn’t long before the scenery gave way to beautiful huge golden snow-like wheat fields and fantastic country-side scenery. The further we got, the more agricultural industry, lakes and huge wide rivers we saw. Picturesque reed filled lake like swamps and well-kept villages with small pretty wooden houses clumped together filled our views. No glamourous architecture here but pure, simple living. This neck of the woods was void of traffic though we still had our fair share of the dreaded rutted roads.

We stopped at a roadside cafe ordering Borsch soup, bread, chicken with rice and lemon tea - successfully! Everywhere we’ve travelled through Russia, whoever serves us in the roadside cafes, has had a good giggle at our efforts in pigeon Russian which usually involves us standing at the counter staring at the menu dumb-founded while looking at our phrasebook with lots of urr’s and um’s. But everyone usually appreciates our situation and is always nice to us. At cafes, petrol stations and shops they show us the price on the calculator to let us know the cost. Since arriving in Russia, wherever we go - we often get thumbs up and hoots from other drivers. People we meet are always friendly, love the vehicle, seem to love us for being English generally, are amazed by our trip and are happy, smiling and very helpful. We hadn’t expected this at all - we love Russia very much for this and it was getting better the further out of the main drag we were going.

The road directly into Ufa itself is superb and the city looked interesting but it was late at night and we needed somewhere to sleep safely. We decided to head out past Ufa and onward toward Chelyabinsk and beyond.

We pulled into a cafe at midnight to grab a coffee and check we were on the right road only to be greeted by the waitress and a group of lorry drivers. On hearing we were English and travelling through Russia, we were promptly seated, plyed with beer, coffee, chocolate and nuts to celebrate the occassion of our meeting (the children were asleep by this stage). We showed them our route and they showed us where they lived in Russia and the next destination they would be travelling themselves - some journeys lasting an incredible 4 days to cross to their next destination. The lorry drivers asked if we had been troubled by the police or pulled in to give money along our travels and were amazed we’d had no issues (touch wood). They explained to us in Russian that it is a way of life for them to have to pay bribes else be taken off the road. The company they work for usually providing the kitty they need to pay the police off. They said the amount of money varied depending on where they were in the country but - no-one escapes (Russian lorry and car drivers alike must always pay something).  Throughout our trip through Russia, we’d been spotted and tailed several times by Police cars, especially along the country routes - but so far - we’d had no problems.

One of the drivers gave us his new up-to-date Russian atlas as a gift - we exchanged a written message in our old one in return. The younger brother of another lorry driver who knew a tiny bit of English from school took Andrew’s Zippo lighter (Andrew loved that lighter) and gave him a disposable one in return (Andrew was a bit gutted but glad of the friendly exchange at the same time). The waitress gave us chocolate bars for the children and another driver shared his beer and nuts with us. We gave kisses and thank you’s in return. After photos and email echanges, we were on our way again - it was now 2am. We headed off down the road and found somewhere to sleep amongst lorries and cars. This time, we searched for someone to pay a fee but with no-one around, we went straight to sleep.

We woke to find 3 cars and 3 tents with Muslim Turkic occupants inside. We said hello, grabbed a coffee from the cafe and set-off on our way. No sooner were we on the road when we bumped into our first English motor-biker called Iain and following not long behind him in a campervan - a Polish father (Sevarik - non-English but Russian speaking) and his son (Maciej aged 13 - English speaking). Both vehicles had been travelling together in convoy since meeting in Ukraine and were about to go their separate ways. A quick chat revealed that Iain and Anne knew the same biker called Jim back home in the UK - a very small world sometimes!

Our new friends told us they had managed to wild camp most of the way through Russia choosing lakeside locations and the back gardens of villagers. Sevarik being a major advantage to the three as he could speak Russian and converse with the locals fluently. We swapped details, checked our maps and agreed to move on from the layby we had parked.  

Before meeting up again, we stopped and ordered a cafe goulash and rice for breakfast - cheap, cheerful and did the job. Toilets resembled Slumdog - still a very hit and miss affair for us - and where was McDonalds when you needed one!? or decent clean-living fuel station!?

As we’ve moved through Russia - first to St Petersburg and then onto Moscow, we’ve seen only a handful of people of posssible Mongolian and Chinese origination, standing out because they are so few.  Moving deeper into Russia, however, large groups of Muslim Turkic and a variety of mixed communities became apparent. We got surrounded by a group of  Turkic Muslim or Seganese boys in the cafe we were eating, trying to sell us mobile phones and asking us if we had some dollars. We declined with Andrew quickly moving us all back to the car to move on.

Not long into our route, we saw pretty wildflowers plus the Ural mountains coming into sight and we began our ascent - very slow going due to smoking snail paced lorries making their way uphill in single file traffic. Now and again, we’d pick up speed to overtake only to fall back again behind another big slow moving beast. That was pretty much the order of play for the rest of our day.

We caught up with Iain, Sevarik and Maciej and agreed to follow them off the beaten track to what was a small poor village nearby a lake. The lake wasn’t good and covered in green slime and moss. The ground around and the tracks pure mud. We left but not before visiting the small village shop which involved walking through someone’s backyard and straight into their small house to a room which was the makeshift store. Everyone had left their shoes outside and although we didn’t remove ours, Iain wondered later if we should have. It was worth the off track visit just to see the shop - we felt too rude to take photos inside and later wished we’d had the guts to ask. Bread, eggs, tomatoes and fruit were all very fresh - no beer - we paid and loaded up with what we needed, heading off to another lake (and to find beer) another 10km away.

No English speaking and in the heart of a small community not very far from Zyavatkul, we were the highlight of the next small village community we reached. To access the next lake, again involved off-roading across the back of the village area, through mud-track fields and then across the lakeside plains. A group of locals and cars greeted our views at the lake on arrival. The lake was clean, the views lovely and excepting the swarming mosquitos and some debris about the place, we decided it would be a fine spot to pitch for the night.  While there, two boys on a bike were hanging around trying to get petrol from us, declaring they had run out and promising water in return. We declined and miraculously the boys started up their engine and started doing handstands around us. What was clear was that the village around us had very little- mainly farming communities -  as per the many small villages we had passed throughout the day.

The children played happily, running around with a football and exploring, the locals eventually dispersing. Nightfall came and we had the huge lake to ourselves. We set-up tents, ate and chatted together until midnight (now 5+ hours GMT and officially in Asia). Maciej who at 13 and very mature for his age acted as translator into English for his father. In the early hours the wind and heavy rains came but next morning we experienced no problems and managed to stay dry. Iain had left early to cross the Kazakhstan border, the sun was nowhere to be seen - still wet, raining and getting cold, for the first time in ages - we changed into warm clothes.

Breakfast and pack-up was followed by Jessica and AJ taking charge of the steering wheel of the car for a few minutes each for a little spin around the plains of the lake - quiet and perfect for a quick supervised drive with mum in the drivers seat with the children taking turns on her lap. Together with Sevarik and Maciej, we drove past Chelyabinsk city to where the road forks - they heading further east toward Omsk along the M5 and us on the E123 - heading south to the border of Kazakhstan.

Just ten minutes into our journey we saw a very bad crash on the roadside - lots of police around, a crumpled car upside down and another with it’s front wheel missing - a total four car pile up altogether. The roadside stall specialities, ever changing through different sections of our trip, were now selling orange juice refreshments along our route. Views we had been loving and enjoying became suddenly unspectacular and we didn’t stop except for a brave toilet break at one of the lesser nice petrol stations available. It took two stops before Jessica finally worked up the courage to go to one of them. She favoured hiding behind the car after that.

Diary (Blog)