We spent most of the day in Trabzon just waiting around and being led from one place to another getting forms filled and stamped. Eventually squeezing the bikes onto the Princess Victoria ferry, in between several tonnes on tomatoes! The 12 hour crossing was made interesting by the few passengers. Some Iranians, very excitable and friendly, never left us alone. Especially the women who love tall men! Giya from Georgia, a chess and draughts champion for the last 8 years in a row, spoke 22 languages, had written 150 books, mainly about religious history, was his local town's 'Mr. Intellect' and was a karate expert. I didn't argue, feeling insignificant next to him! He gave us $100 for the Hospices! An amazing guy.
After 7 hours on customs, (they couldn't read the English translation of the forms and we couldn't fill in the Russian one) we finally entered Russia. Sochi is an amazing place. We found the cheapest hotel to get our visas registered. The Hotel 'Moscow' an old communist hotel that gave you a feeling of being watched over your shoulder! Luckily for us, the Iranians were also there to keep us company at every opportunity they got....
The route to Rostov was a nightmare. Stopped by the police on two consecutive days, with any excuse they could think of for a bribe. This made us want to get the train and get out of Russia a soon as possible. Once we reached Volgograd, the people were very friendly and helpful, telling us the police would be no problem from now on, we just happened to pick the route all the tourists take to Sochi. Once settled into the hotel 'Tourist' an equally bad but cheap communist style similar to the hotel 'Moscow' we could start the search for tyres.
An English teacher who gave tours of the war memorials and 'Mother Russia' statue had shown us on our cheap tourist map where we could find a motorcycle shop. A tent on a bowling alley car park was closed but had a handful of Japanese bikes inside. We left a note explaining our tyre problem while a nearby cafe was overrun by security guards after an old man had a slight disagreement with the owner. We decided it would be prudent to stay out of trouble....
Next day at the bike tent a young man who spoke no English made a few phone calls. Minutes later a silver Landrover with blacked out windows screeched to a halt, a stocky man with a bad back emerged, introduced himself as Roman, and whisked us off to his office. A quick and fruitless search on the internet, explaining that the front tyre was unavailable in Volgograd. Another young man arrived, Slava, who said after dinner we will look for tyres. Off to a local strip bar, which served as a restaurant during the day!
The pace quickened through the traffic to a tyre shop where we could get cheap Taiwanese enduro tyes within 3 days. No problem. But not good enough for the Russians who wanted us to have the best possible. Back to the office to arrange collection of two Metzeler rear tyres and two Pirelli fronts, buy Roman's family in Moscow which would arrive in Volgograd in two days. Then off to a traditional Russian restaurant 'Tralli Walli' for a huge meal, vodka and entertainment by cossack singers, then a lift back to the hotel with a promise of a tour of the city and a ride on Slava's speedboat along the Volga tomorrow. I can't remember getting that kind of service last time I bought tyres.....I guess you can get better than a Kwik fit fitter!!
I was sad to leave Volgograd and our new friends, but once the tyres were fitted in Roman's new workshop, we had the urge to get some mileage done.
After 7 hours on customs, (they couldn't read the English translation of the forms and we couldn't fill in the Russian one) we finally entered Russia. Sochi is an amazing place. We found the cheapest hotel to get our visas registered. The Hotel 'Moscow' an old communist hotel that gave you a feeling of being watched over your shoulder! Luckily for us, the Iranians were also there to keep us company at every opportunity they got....
The route to Rostov was a nightmare. Stopped by the police on two consecutive days, with any excuse they could think of for a bribe. This made us want to get the train and get out of Russia a soon as possible. Once we reached Volgograd, the people were very friendly and helpful, telling us the police would be no problem from now on, we just happened to pick the route all the tourists take to Sochi. Once settled into the hotel 'Tourist' an equally bad but cheap communist style similar to the hotel 'Moscow' we could start the search for tyres.
An English teacher who gave tours of the war memorials and 'Mother Russia' statue had shown us on our cheap tourist map where we could find a motorcycle shop. A tent on a bowling alley car park was closed but had a handful of Japanese bikes inside. We left a note explaining our tyre problem while a nearby cafe was overrun by security guards after an old man had a slight disagreement with the owner. We decided it would be prudent to stay out of trouble....
Next day at the bike tent a young man who spoke no English made a few phone calls. Minutes later a silver Landrover with blacked out windows screeched to a halt, a stocky man with a bad back emerged, introduced himself as Roman, and whisked us off to his office. A quick and fruitless search on the internet, explaining that the front tyre was unavailable in Volgograd. Another young man arrived, Slava, who said after dinner we will look for tyres. Off to a local strip bar, which served as a restaurant during the day!
The pace quickened through the traffic to a tyre shop where we could get cheap Taiwanese enduro tyes within 3 days. No problem. But not good enough for the Russians who wanted us to have the best possible. Back to the office to arrange collection of two Metzeler rear tyres and two Pirelli fronts, buy Roman's family in Moscow which would arrive in Volgograd in two days. Then off to a traditional Russian restaurant 'Tralli Walli' for a huge meal, vodka and entertainment by cossack singers, then a lift back to the hotel with a promise of a tour of the city and a ride on Slava's speedboat along the Volga tomorrow. I can't remember getting that kind of service last time I bought tyres.....I guess you can get better than a Kwik fit fitter!!
I was sad to leave Volgograd and our new friends, but once the tyres were fitted in Roman's new workshop, we had the urge to get some mileage done.
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