Tuesday, July 14, 2009

6 July 2009 Irkutsk Russia


The next morning the house was full of activity. Everyone was getting their morning chores done and getting ready for work. I stayed in bed a little longer trying to stay out of the way and actually I just didn’t want to get up. After everyone left I got up, talked to Alla some, and started loading my bike, then ate breakfast. I moved my motorcycle out the way so Sayan could get his car out of the garage. I also had Alla write some English phrases in Russian for me. One was to ask for the address of a hotel and one for finding a front tire for my motorcycle. I asked Alla if her village was on the map and she looked. Yep it is. It’s Kutulik. She didn’t expect to see it. It seemed like I wasn’t getting much done when Sayan was back and wanted to put his car back in the garage. I moved my motorcycle outside the locked gates because I was almost ready to leave. Before I left, Alla fixed dinner while I looked at my route into Irkutsk. We ate, I said goodbye to Sayan. I took some pictures, said goodbye to Alla and thanked her for her help and all her family’s hospitality. I then left for Irkutsk. Before got back on Highway M53 I stopped at the same lake where I met Alla and her father. I flushed the dust out of my radiator, something I never got done yesterday. Then I jumped back on M53 and departed for Irkutsk. It was a short ride to Irkutsk and a long ride to the hotel. Once I was within the city limits I stopped and asked directions for the Iris hotel. I followed the directions and was unsuccessful at locating the hotel. I stopped again, this time at a Toyota car dealership, where they printed the directions to the hotel. I followed the directions to the letter. I got to where the hotel should be and asked people if they knew where the Iris Hotel was. No one has ever heard of it. Oh boy, this is not good. I then asked in an electronics store if they have any idea where this hotel was. No luck, they never heard of it. Someone else did some checking on the address and discovered I was in the right spot, but no hotel. What’s going on? Finally a good samaritian came forward and took me to a hotel and I asked if they had Internet. They said no. I went back to my motorcycle to get the address of the hotel Alla’s dad mentioned, called the Irkutsk Hotel. While I was out at my motorcycle a husband and wife checked into this hotel. The wife spoke English and helped answer all the questions which all the people had. After all questions were answered she went to her room and everyone involved in my fiasco felt a little relieved. I made a reservation with them and then the good samaritian led me over to the hotel. I tipped him handsomely for all the trouble he went through to get me to this hotel. I didn’t even get through the gate when I saw Gordon, one of the Scottish guys working on his BMW. I just laughed. What are the chances of hooking up with those guys again? We probably talked for an hour before I even walked into the hotel to register. I then went in, purchased a room, had my passport registered and went to my room to drop off all my riding clothes. I was sweating profusely, needed to cool down and I needed a big drink. I then went back to my bike to unload it and was in the process of oiling my chain when the Scottish guys came by and invited me out to dinner. I said I would but needed to finish working on my bike. They said they’d wait in the bar until I was finished. I wrapped up the work on my bike and took everything I needed up to the room. I walked down to the bar and the chaps were having a beer and talking to one of the bar employees. We all talked about diz, dat and the oder ding till a group of Finlanders dropped in. We talked with them for about an hour before they went to bed. The Finlanders spoke about a charity they supported and raised money for. Their charity raises money for children born with deformities which keep them wheelchair-bound. The money raised is used for these children and their caregivers to travel to the Mediterranean Sea for holiday or vacation. A noble cause, and I take my hat off to them. They were passengers on the Trans-Siberian Railway on their way to, I believe, Shanghai, China. I also found out the Scottish guys are also raising money on their round the world trip for a charity. I’m not sure if it is a police-related charity or what. I’m getting the feeling you all think these are young people that I’m associating with. Not really. I think the Scottish guys are the youngest at about 45 to 50, next me 57, and the Finlanders probably between 55 and 65. It’s kind of funny how everybody is funny in their own way. I was nailed down as an American from the get-go. Just my accent gave me away and I never thought I had an accent. The Scotts and I were laughing about slang and how it can be useful. When I was in Southeast Asia we used to use slang to talk to other Americans when we didn’t want the local English-speaking people to know what we conversing about. A handy tool in special situations. Also, one must be careful about what they say because you never know who may understand English in the most unlikely locations. We talked until 2:00 a.m. in the morning when the female bartender said it’s time to go. She wanted to go home so she could get some sleep before she went to school in the morning. She is studying at the university and works as a part time bartender while attending school. One of the good things to come out of the night’s conversation is an address where I can start looking for a front tire for my motorcycle. Gordon said Eugene the bartender gave him the address and if they didn’t have a tire, this business would know where to find a tire in the city. I drew a map of how to find the place and Gordon had it written in Russian for good measure. We never did make it out for dinner and ate two tubes of Pringles potato chips instead. It was a fun night. I personally didn’t know if I’d ever see these guys again so we shook hands and went to bed.

1 comment:

  1. Sure good to hear you are finding such pleasant hospitality from time to time.

    ReplyDelete