Yekaterinburg, Russia
After leaving Glazov, I had quite the adventures. Walking to the road that led the way to Perm, I began hitchhiking. I walked as I hitchhiked, and this continued on for more than an hour; no one stopped for me. So the goal was to make it to the next village over if no one would pick me up, and it looked like that would have to be the plan. The only ride I had gotten was from a young truck driver who took me maybe 5 km down the road. I was three quarters of the way there, when a pickup truck driver stopped for me. He was driving some pieces of metal to Igra, on the junction with the main highway going east. So I rode with him for an hour, talking a little in Russian, but I didn't understand too much of what he said.
I got off the pickup at the main junction with the "highway." The highway, the biggest road going to Siberia, was little more than a one lane country road winding back and forth across the meadows. I continued walking and hitching, and got to enjoy some of the beautiful views of the grassy meadows and woods stretching out miles and miles from the road! It was amazing. There, I got picked up pretty quickly by a man from Izhevsk, who was heading to a small village for his wedding. He knew some English words, so we managed to talk about things that were a little more complex than the last conversation I had. Soon, he dropped me off near a village called Debyesey, a little less than halfway to Perm.
The views were getting really fantastic as I walked some more, and not getting anymore rides, I decided to camp in the meadows. Since the mosquitoes got furious at the end of the day, I quickly pitched tent and dove inside, eating a sandwich I made from bread and kielbasa. Then on, I didn't have much to do, so relaxed some, and fell asleep. However, a few hours later, I was rudely awakened by the rain. It began to come down hard, and there were even some lightning strikes. That was scary, but at least they were far off in the distance. My tent was also good, and kept most of the water out, as did my bag, so all of my stuff made it through! I didn't sleep much after though, and got up early to hitchhike some more.
After two hours of attempts in the morning, I got no rides, partly because there were few cars on the road. It was getting hot, so I decided that I needed more water. So I walked into the village of Debyesey to find a store. I quickly realized that the only paved street was the main street, Sovietskaya Ave. The rest were made of dirt, turned to mud from last night's rain. Some houses in the village were even log cabins! This place was so different from anything I had seen before. The people had usual Russian habits; they generally kept to themselves except for some moments when they felt like talking. I managed to buy some water, and hitchhike some more. I was there for probably two more hours, with no ride in sight. By this time, I was getting a bit discouraged. It looked like there would be more rain in the night, so I really wanted to be out of there. Asking around, I learned that there was a daily bus to Perm sometime in the afternoon - no one really knew when it came. So I was waiting at the bus station by the road for it, and halfheartedly stuck out my thumb. To my surprise, a nice Toyota with an older guy in it stopped for me. He was going to a town named Kungur, and so I said sure, take me there!
My driver was an old Tartar (ethnicity) man, who liked to travel and drive around. He also drove like mad. We would pass in the opposite lane whenever we got the chance on the one lane road. At points, the road had huge potholes, or had sections that had no traffic lines drawn on it whatsoever. It was an adventurous road. We arrived at Kungur a few hours later, a smaller town of about 60,000, and my driver even drove me to a hotel he recommended. The hotel was at the edge of town, and among many residential houses. The roads outside were dirt roads (most non-arterial roads in Kungur are dirt), and it almost felt like a village there. I was tired that night, and slept a lot.
The next day, I decided to check out an ice cave on the edge of town. This is the main tourist attraction in the town, with Russian tourists coming from all the surrounding cities. I went on an hour long guided tour into a series of caverns, cold enough that people had put ice sculptures in the caverns, and icicles hung all around. There was even an underground lake there. By the end though, everybody was really cold. We had all rented jackets to go down there, but the cold even bit through that, and everyone was relived to go back to the surface. I then went around town, walking along mud roads and seeing the town market where old babushkas sold vegetables and fruits on stands. I bought some, returned to the hotel, and ate my meal there.
I decided next to opt for the easier ride and take the bus to Yekaterinburg. Hitchhiking is really worthwhile, because you really can get in touch with the landscapes, villages, and people who drive through. However, I'm saving the next hitchhiking adventure for a later date. Russians don't usually travel far, so it is difficult to get longer rides, and Siberia is big. So it was the bus, and after stopping at a million villages and crossing the Europe-Asia border, I now stand in Yekaterinburg, back to the concrete jungle. I feel like I have seen the evolution of society, from camping in fields, to log cabins in mud roads, all the way to the modern streets. This is something I don't feel like I will take for granted anymore.
After leaving Glazov, I had quite the adventures. Walking to the road that led the way to Perm, I began hitchhiking. I walked as I hitchhiked, and this continued on for more than an hour; no one stopped for me. So the goal was to make it to the next village over if no one would pick me up, and it looked like that would have to be the plan. The only ride I had gotten was from a young truck driver who took me maybe 5 km down the road. I was three quarters of the way there, when a pickup truck driver stopped for me. He was driving some pieces of metal to Igra, on the junction with the main highway going east. So I rode with him for an hour, talking a little in Russian, but I didn't understand too much of what he said.
I got off the pickup at the main junction with the "highway." The highway, the biggest road going to Siberia, was little more than a one lane country road winding back and forth across the meadows. I continued walking and hitching, and got to enjoy some of the beautiful views of the grassy meadows and woods stretching out miles and miles from the road! It was amazing. There, I got picked up pretty quickly by a man from Izhevsk, who was heading to a small village for his wedding. He knew some English words, so we managed to talk about things that were a little more complex than the last conversation I had. Soon, he dropped me off near a village called Debyesey, a little less than halfway to Perm.
The views were getting really fantastic as I walked some more, and not getting anymore rides, I decided to camp in the meadows. Since the mosquitoes got furious at the end of the day, I quickly pitched tent and dove inside, eating a sandwich I made from bread and kielbasa. Then on, I didn't have much to do, so relaxed some, and fell asleep. However, a few hours later, I was rudely awakened by the rain. It began to come down hard, and there were even some lightning strikes. That was scary, but at least they were far off in the distance. My tent was also good, and kept most of the water out, as did my bag, so all of my stuff made it through! I didn't sleep much after though, and got up early to hitchhike some more.
After two hours of attempts in the morning, I got no rides, partly because there were few cars on the road. It was getting hot, so I decided that I needed more water. So I walked into the village of Debyesey to find a store. I quickly realized that the only paved street was the main street, Sovietskaya Ave. The rest were made of dirt, turned to mud from last night's rain. Some houses in the village were even log cabins! This place was so different from anything I had seen before. The people had usual Russian habits; they generally kept to themselves except for some moments when they felt like talking. I managed to buy some water, and hitchhike some more. I was there for probably two more hours, with no ride in sight. By this time, I was getting a bit discouraged. It looked like there would be more rain in the night, so I really wanted to be out of there. Asking around, I learned that there was a daily bus to Perm sometime in the afternoon - no one really knew when it came. So I was waiting at the bus station by the road for it, and halfheartedly stuck out my thumb. To my surprise, a nice Toyota with an older guy in it stopped for me. He was going to a town named Kungur, and so I said sure, take me there!
My driver was an old Tartar (ethnicity) man, who liked to travel and drive around. He also drove like mad. We would pass in the opposite lane whenever we got the chance on the one lane road. At points, the road had huge potholes, or had sections that had no traffic lines drawn on it whatsoever. It was an adventurous road. We arrived at Kungur a few hours later, a smaller town of about 60,000, and my driver even drove me to a hotel he recommended. The hotel was at the edge of town, and among many residential houses. The roads outside were dirt roads (most non-arterial roads in Kungur are dirt), and it almost felt like a village there. I was tired that night, and slept a lot.
The next day, I decided to check out an ice cave on the edge of town. This is the main tourist attraction in the town, with Russian tourists coming from all the surrounding cities. I went on an hour long guided tour into a series of caverns, cold enough that people had put ice sculptures in the caverns, and icicles hung all around. There was even an underground lake there. By the end though, everybody was really cold. We had all rented jackets to go down there, but the cold even bit through that, and everyone was relived to go back to the surface. I then went around town, walking along mud roads and seeing the town market where old babushkas sold vegetables and fruits on stands. I bought some, returned to the hotel, and ate my meal there.
I decided next to opt for the easier ride and take the bus to Yekaterinburg. Hitchhiking is really worthwhile, because you really can get in touch with the landscapes, villages, and people who drive through. However, I'm saving the next hitchhiking adventure for a later date. Russians don't usually travel far, so it is difficult to get longer rides, and Siberia is big. So it was the bus, and after stopping at a million villages and crossing the Europe-Asia border, I now stand in Yekaterinburg, back to the concrete jungle. I feel like I have seen the evolution of society, from camping in fields, to log cabins in mud roads, all the way to the modern streets. This is something I don't feel like I will take for granted anymore.