The forecast for Moscow: 1 Kelvin

After a somewhat sleepless night, I spent the morning before checking out looking for a hostel that was cheap to crash at for a few days. There was a fair few but actually the cheapest one was a place down the road, maybe only a mile away, so I booked myself there for 4 days.

I survived Moscow's crazy traffic and got there in no time. In fact I got there around 1130 (the check in time on booking.com's app said 12) but then could not find the damn place. I must have spent a good 15 minutes around the back of the building before heading to the front again where the concierge of the building shouted “hostel?".

After what an observer would possibly see as some sort of bizarre ‘Mime-off' between the two of us I was able to discern that the hostel was number 22 on the 6th floor and that I was able to use the lift for my bike ('Velo' in russian) and baggage.

Up on the sixth floor the hostel door was unmarked and also unremarkable compared to its opposite number. How anyone would know that place even existed was beyond me. I'd left my bike downstairs with the concierge and took the essentials with me, rang the door bell and the door opened automatically. I was greeted to the most miserable looking man I have ever met. He looked like I had crapped on his shoes, he was that bad. No English was spoken, but this guy had Google translate so we were both able to use the app on our respective phones to converse. Supposedly the check in time was at 1300 but I was ok to start bringing bags up. As always, the problem of where to store the bike was a mild concern, but I was able to put it in the rear stairwell what they used as a smoking area. By the time I'd brought everything up and locked my bike to some very rickety railings it was past 1300, so all was good.

The WiFi worked best in the main passageway of the hostel so I sat out there and contacted friends and family to let them know I was ok. As I was doing this a Chinese looking guy was asking the hostel guy for something, I can't remember what, in English and to no avail. He gave up and was putting on his boots to go out. I don't know what made me ask because I was literally going to just stay in the hostel and sulk for a few days, but I asked the guy where was heading and if he wanted any company. His practically jumped at the chance to hang out with someone and I was taken aback by his enthusiasm.

And so began the adventures of Kelvin and the Gog.

We both decided it would be prudent to go and get our bearings of the city, so we found our local metro stop and headed off to Red Oktober. I was really amazed with how deep the subway went. I had only ever been on a subway in Rome and that was just down one short flight of stairs. Me and Kelvin had gone down two massive escalators and it felt we were in the bowels of the city. I was surprised with how it didn't feel claustrophobic at all. The station stops were massive, and beautiful. I'm not even joking, the walls were all crimson marble and the ceilings were ornately decorated. It really wasn't what I expected (to be fair though I didn't really know what to expect but this wasn't it).

At Red Oktober, the two of us got lost in the under-road pedestrian crossings that snaked the whole area but eventually got out on the right side of the road and were greeted with the outer walls of the red square.

As you would imagine with somewhere touristy like this, there were tonnes of souvenir merchants pedaling things from the old Russian Dolls that everyone loves to bright pink Russian military hats. I don't know why but I really wanted get one for my Dad. I'm not entirely sure he would have wanted a bright pink one though.

When we got through the walls we could see the iconic sight of St. Basil's cathedral. It was absolutely breath taking. Or it would have been of not for the god awful scaffolding that was being put up in front of it. It turns out they were using the square for the morning ceremony for the Winter Olympics and the scaffolding would eventually look like a stage although I would leave Moscow before I get to see it complete.

We walked around the scaffolded area and made our way to the cathedral to take photos and the two of us agreed that everyone that was taking photos with tablet computers looked bloody ridiculous!

We went to get food at a soviet style cafe. It was really good (I had a chicken kiev) and really cheap too. Afterwards we walked around for a while longer before heading back and settling in for the night.

The day I gave up..

I woke up about 4am and looked out the window. I didn't known what I was expecting to see, but what I got was torrential rain. It was pitch black when I set off.

I made my way out of the city whilst trying to avoid the constant puddles (which were actually the size of lakes) not only to stay relatively drier, but it was a 50/50 affair with whether or not there was a pothole lurking under the turgid waters.

Getting onto the major truncation to the next town, I was a under a constant barrage of honking lorries, angry looking Russians (unaccustomed to cyclists) and, of course, the elements. I persevered on.

I decided to have a break and pulled over to seek refuge at a bus stop. I can't really explain what went through my head at that time but I looked at the road ahead, looked at the skies, looked at my fingers (which had gone white with numb) and though “sod this".

I turned around. I had already cycled 40 miles, but to even imagine I had another 100 to the next town filled me with despair. I had really given up. In my head I was going to go back to Kursk, catch a train to Moscow. Then go home, somehow.

It took me an age to get back to Kursk as my wheel had deteriorated even more. I knew then that I had made the right decision, what if I had have broken the wheel completely in the middle of nowhere? I dread to think.

I somehow got to the station, managed to get a train ticket and actually got on the train with little problem. Well, there was a slight problem. As I was getting onto the train with my bike frame, my glasses fell off and fell between the carriage and the platform. Goodbye glasses! Luckily I only really need my glasses to prevent me from going crossed eyed when I'm tired.

On the train, I was in a “Platzkart" carriage, so instead of the 4 bed ‘room' I had experienced before, this was 50 bed and open plan. I got the bike into what appeared to be the smokers section (just the bit in between the carriages) and got my crap onto the shelf above my bed. I made the bed with the bedding I was handed and fell asleep straight away. I was exhausted, emotionally drained and soaked right through.

When I got into Moscow I went and tried to get a sim card for my phone so I could use the internet, but to no avail. However, I did manage to get a hotel booked on the phone shop owner's computer.

So I found the hotel and got all my crap settled in then rang my parents. I told them I wanted to come home, but they told me to go and do some touristy things, see how I feel and then go from there.

I really wanted to go home though.

An apology..

Ok, just a quick note to say sorry for being so slow with updating my blog. I'm currently on my way to the Chinese border from Ulaanbaator and will catch the train to Beijing. Not entirely sure blogger works in China but I'll find some way around it. Anyway, sorry for being over a months behind.. I WILL get on it!!

All the best,

The Gog.

Kursk day 2

Not wanting to cycle with a wheel missing a spoke, I decided to stay in Kursk for another day. I couldn't justify staying at the posh hotel I stayed in last night so I found a cheap hotel down the road and checked out.

I needed to get some cash out so tried to take some out from the ATM in the hotel foyer to no avail. Luckily the English speaking concierge that helped me with my bags when I checked into the hotel was just starting his shift. He took me to the bank next door and translated the ATM for me.

I made my way to the hotel down the road and checked in. An elderly lady who spoke a phrase or two in English was at the desk and showed me to my room, handing me my room key with a key fob the size of a small child. The room was basic but clean and after I settled in (and left my bike in the security guard's hut) I headed off out for some grub.

It was around 2 miles away but I managed to find a supermarket . I stocked up on my usual diet (if I've not mentioned it before I have been living on chocolate bars with nuts, bananas, water, 7up, bread and whatever meat I can get) and treated myself with what passed as a pizza.

When I got to the till, the cashier screamed her head off. There was a fish from one of the counters wriggling around in a plastic bag. To be honest it scared the hell out of me too. Good to know the food's fresh here though. Maybe too fresh.

Back home, I had my pizza then looked for a place go have my bike fixed. Turns out the closest place was where I was meant to be heading to next. A good 140 miles away. I figured I'd have to leave crazily early in the morning to make good with time. And with the weather being cold but dry I thought I'd make it for sure, even with the wonky wheel.

I planned my route for the next day, got all my bags ready and had an early night.