My hosts are waiting for me by the Ford dealership. Boris and Masha are a couple in their mid twenties. Boris owns an on-line shop selling home appliances and Masha is a secretary at a software development company. They're both outdoor pursuit enthusiasts and love snow-boarding and cycling-touring (but have only done it abroad). Last year they went on a bike tour in Turkey and they're planning a month long adventure in China in september.
President Mevdeyev of Russia and Angela Merkel of Germany are in town, which means I am able to take hot showers. In the summer time the local government often switches off the water to carry out repairs.
Boris and Masha finally shed some light on the mystery of the evenly spaced cracks on the Russian roads. In the old days, some roads were made using concrete slabs. When it's too expensive to rebuild the road from scratch, the concrete is covered with asphalt while the gaps between the slabs remain.
The day after I arrive, Boris and I go for a walk by the river, we talk about extreme sports teenagers, snowboarding, Lenin, cars as status symbols, oligarchs and economics. When I mention to Boris that I found Kungur to be beautiful yet rundown, he concludes that in Kungur they still l believe to live in Soviet times and don't understand that: 'something does not come from nothing'. It's hot and we want a beer, we spot a cafe but two guys napping under the canopy tells us the bar is out of order. Masha joins us after work. First we eat exquisite homemade pirogi, followed by a couple of pints and Beatles music at an underground bar suitably called Yellow Submarine. We end the night at a fancy cocktail bar to bid farewell to Cyril, a friend of Boris and Masha's who's moving to Moscow. There I meet other friends, including a young woman who has just returned from cruising in the French Riviera and Maxim, an extrovert and witty engineer and entrepreneur, who sells porous aluminum and LED lamps for industrial uses and has traveled extensively in Europe. Maxim gives us a lift home on his car and takes a scenic route via the most outstanding architecture of Yekaterinburg. Amidst charming old wooden building, a new city is emerging. Construction is everywhere, flashy skyscrapers and luxury shops are popping up on every corner. But for Masha, modern architecture has no soul.
The following day Masha and I are heading for a jazz concert in the park but end up sidetracked by a crowd at the Church on the Blood. This church was built recently on the site were the Czar Nicholas II and his family were kept captive before they were executed by the Bolsheviks on the 17 of July of 1918. Nicholas and his family have been canonized by the Orthodox church and many believers are here to pay their respects, mourn and pray on the anniversary of their deaths. A choir sings lovely tunes and the mass ends with moving and delicately beautiful bell music. There are some cossacks from the Ukraine but most of the attendees hail from villages from around Russia and beyond and eat pirogi (stuffed buns) and drink kvaz (fermented bread drink).
On the way to Tyumen I gradually loose the mountains as I approach the flatlands of Siberia. Swamps and marshes become more numerous and so do the insects. Clouds of tiny black flies flash mob around my face when I make a stop. The forest is merrily brimming with flowers. It's berry season and punters sell wild berries by the road. One night, I find what seems to be a perfect spot for wild camping, the grass trimmed, hidden by the trees, close to a cafe and a banya... but close to a swamp also. My tent is visited by frogs and a critical mass of mosquitoes.
On a hot and sweaty day I arrive in Tyumen.
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