Lords of the East
March 31, 2010 by admin
Filed under Linger Longer
Linger Longer: Driving the Trans-Siberian
Chapter 23: Lords of the East
The Chinese border is less than 15 miles away. Excitedly
following our route on the map as we head south down
the tail end of Russia, Chris informs me that the forests
we’re driving through now are called the Ussuriland,
which are completely different to the taiga. It’s monsoon
forest filled with an exotic array of animal species including
wolves, the Asian black bear and the Siberian tiger.
‘No way!’ I cry. ‘So lurking somewhere in those trees,
there could be a tiger watching us and waiting to pounce?’
Chris nods. ‘Yep, the Siberian tiger … the largest cat of
them all! Some have been measured at three point five
metres in length.’
‘That’s huge!’
‘I know. If one of those gets ya, you’re dog food.’
‘Don’t you mean cat food?’ I smile.
‘Ha-ha! Si, you kill me do you know that? Unfortunately,
the sad truth is, the chances of being eaten by one around
here are practically zero.’
‘Why?’
‘Because there are fuck all left! A few years back, this
guy spent six weeks trying to track a tiger in Siberia, but
all he found was paws prints in the snow.’
‘He should’ve gone to the zoo, it would have saved him
a lot of trouble.’
‘That’s not the point, you idiot. The idea was to see a tiger
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in the wild. They estimate there are only around three
hundred left. Poachers hunt them for their bones, genitals
and bile. They can fetch a fortune for them on the black
market in Korea.’
‘Fucking humans! I dread to think how many other
species are on their way out.’
‘Si, you don’t want to know. This area we’re in is also
home to the Asian leopard, which roams the land between
China and North Korea. There are only an estimated thirty
of those left in the wild.’
I shake my head. ‘Absolutely criminal.’
The drive through the Ussuriland is perfect, with good
surfaced roads winding through the beautiful countryside.
We stop for lunch at a roadside café and enjoy a bowl of
meaty stew and a cup of green tea. I’ve got no idea what
the name of the village is called we’re passing trhough;
we’ve almost given up trying to pronounce the names in
Russian. All I know is, Vladivostok is at the very bottom
of a red road that ends at the Sea of Japan. This is the last
stretch.
From across the dimly lit canteen, I watch a Chinese
woman gnaw savagely on a chicken leg. I’m shocked and
a little disgusted by her urgency, it’s like she hasn’t eaten
for weeks. The guy and girl sitting with her seem totally
oblivious to her outrageous table manners. I’ve never seen
anyone eat like this before, well, maybe apart from Chris
when he’s devouring a helpless kebab on the way home
from the pub. Suddenly, the woman begins to choke on a
chicken bone, which isn’t surprising at all. Gasping desperately
for air, she clutches her throat and turns a deep
shade of purple. The young guy runs around the table and
slaps her firmly on the back. She’s thrown forward and
her plate crashes to the floor. We both look on in shock.
The kid continues to whack the woman on the back, and
she raises her hand almost signaling for him to stop. You
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can see the desperation in her bulging eyes, as she gasps
for air more and more urgently with each second that ticks
away. Grabbing her arm, the guy drags her to her feet and
proceeds to attempt the Heinrick Maneuver.
‘We should help!’ Chris yells.
‘It’s OK, he’s doing the Heinrick Maneuver!’
The Chinese guy thrusts hard from behind, pushing into
her diaphragm. Everyone in the café stops eating and
watches the show. Even the employees standing behind
the counter stop work and take front row seats. Just as she
looks like she’s about to croak her last breath, the guy
thrusts again and the chicken bone shoots out of her
mouth and lands on the floor by Chris’s feet. The woman
wheezes and collapses onto her chair. With the show over
everyone continues to tuck into their meals and the
women behind the counter get back to work.
Chris turns to me with a smile. ‘Ooh, now that was
close!’
‘Too right,’ I reply. ‘Three cheers to Mr. Heinrick.’
We drive for 300 miles along the M60. We must be literally
on top of Vladivostok by now. Cruising through the
countryside on the last leg of our journey, there’s only the
promise of Vladivostok ahead, a city at the end of the
world and a place that meant very little to us two months
ago, and everything now. With each turn in the road we
draw closer. It feels like a magnet is pulling us towards it,
and as the sun shines we devour mile-after-mile propelled
by a momentum that’s six weeks strong. The traffic suddenly
begins to build up and billboards advertising Japanese
cars for sale start to appear – every man and his dog seem to
be cashing in on the action.
We pass through a GAI checkpoint without any problems,
and I feel butterflies in my stomach as we approach
a steep hill. The Sierra climbs the gradient with surprising
ease and, unless I’m completely mistaken, I could swear is
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running better now than it was before we left England.
Breaking sharply at the top of the hill, Chris indicates and
pulls hastily into a lay by.
‘What are you doing?’ I shout.
‘We’re here!’ he smiles.
‘You what?’
‘Look!’
Chris points across the road at a crowd of people stood
in front of a small monument. 3D letters cast in iron,
which sit above a waist height concrete alter project the
word “VLADIVOSTOK” at us in Russian. It’s a sight as
magical as seeing the Hollywood sign, and it renders us
both speechless. Chris grabs his camera and takes a picture
of my twisted, psychotic face next to the Sierra with
the sign in the background. We have made it to
Vladivostok in our clapped out £300 Ford Sierra – overland!
For six weeks we have been heading in the same
direction with one destination in mind, and seeing these
letters on top of this hill is by far the most surreal moment
of my existence so far. We have come to the end of the
road … quite literally! A complete sense of euphoria
washes over me. It’s all happened so suddenly. One
minute we were deep in the wilderness and the next thing
we know we’ve arrived … bang … it’s almost like I’m not
ready for it all to come to an end yet. I guess it will take
some time for it to sink in.
A bride appears in a huge white meringue of a wedding
dress and stands with the groom in front of the
Vladivostok sign. A photographer snaps away at the smiling
faces, and a brass band begins to play music under the
trees. It almost feels like this whole event has been organized
for our arrival – to welcome us to the Far East, and
as a mark of respect for completing our epic journey.
Sadly, it isn’t for us at all, but we still enjoy the atmosphere
and pretend all the same. We dance and sing and,
although everyone around us probably thinks we’re little
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more than two freaks cashing in on the free music, it gives
us a buzz to think that they have no idea what we’ve just
been through. I feel overwhelmed with emotion. A young
guy in a badly fitted suit looks over and smiles. I’m unable
to contain my excitement. I march over and shake him
vigorously by the hand.
‘Vladivostok!’ I beam. ‘Vladivostok!’
The guy frowns. ‘Da, da, Vladivostok.’
I turn to Chris. ‘My God, we made it, fat boy!’
‘I know!’ he yells. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’
Striking the engine Chris accelerates over the brow of
the hill, and with huge grins we watch as the city of
Vladivostok falls dramatically into view.
* * *
Si sings ‘The Final Countdown’ by Europe at the top of
his voice, as we descend the enormous hill above the city
of Vladivostok. It feels like we’re coming into land. The
road splits into a two-lane carriageway and we’re sucked
into a line of traffic, which takes us under a large concrete
fly-over and spits us out in the direction of the ocean. We
quickly find ourselves in the city centre, weaving around
trams and suicidal shoppers. Nudging around the main
square, a large monument dedicated to the Fighters for
Soviet Power in the Far East, looms above the traffic. We
continue on past the train station, and follow a steep
coastal road around the Amursky Gulf until we finally
arrive at a car park over looking the Sea of Japan.
‘This is incredible!’ Si beams.
‘I know, I can’t believe we’re here!’
Si leaps out of the car and perches himself on the bonnet.
‘So, what the fuck do we do now?’ he laughs.
I join him on the bonnet, and shrug. ‘Fucks knows.’
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We sit in silence for a moment and look out across the
ocean.
‘We could get a ferry to Japan,’ Si suggests.
‘Yeah, that’s one option. We could eat sushi in Tokyo,
climb Mt Fuji, drink sake with pretty geisha girls and buy
a really cool Samurai sword and cut off people’s heads.
Ah, hold on a minute, there’s a problem.’
Si lights a cigarette. ‘What’s that, then?’
‘Japan’s expensive.’
‘You don’t say.’
‘I’m serious, Si. A bag of sugar in Tokyo is about fifty
quid.’
Si takes a long drag on his cigarette. ‘Oh well, not to
worry. To be honest with you, Chris, I’m feeling a little
tired. Maybe we should just finish this last cigarette and
think about heading home, what do you say?’
I laugh. ‘Yeah, if we leave now we should be home in
time for tea in about six weeks.’
‘That’s true. OK, let’s get going.’
I turn to Si, and frown. ‘You’re taking the piss, right?’
He sighs. ‘Of course I am, you prick.’
Si glances around and spots a grey concrete hotel on the
hill behind.
‘The Hotel Vladivostok!’ he nods. ‘That’s where we’ll
stay tonight. We can decide what we’re gonna do in the
morning.’
‘Sounds like a plan!’
We jump back in the car and make our way to the gates
of the hotel. The guy at the barrier hands me a ticket and
we find an empty space by the main doors.
‘So where’s the welcome party, then?’ I smile. ‘Where’s
the checkered flag? Where are all the pretty girls with banners
with “I love Chris” on them? The Champagne should
be flowing, God damn it.’
We make our way over to the hotel entrance and enter a
bustling foyer. The smartly dressed woman standing
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behind the reception desk checks us in without any fuss
and we head on up to the eighth floor. The room is $60,
which is a little pricey considering our slim line budget,
but happy to push out the boat in celebration of our
arrival, we agree to forget about money for one night. The
hotel room is clean and very spacious, and dumping our
bags on the floor we’re both asleep within seconds.
I’m disturbed by a telephone ringing in my ear. I lift my
head off the pillow and try to focus on my unfamiliar surroundings.
Saliva dribbles from the corner of my mouth
and my vision is blurred. The loud ringing starts to annoy
me. I reach over and fumble for the receiver. Unable to
find it, I begin to get agitated and accidentally knock over
the bedside lamp. It crashes to the floor and wakes Si. He
too jerks his head off the pillow, and with pasta shell eyes
he peers over in my direction. The phone continues to
ring as I search desperately for the receiver.
‘Answer the bloody phone!’ Si grumbles.
Rolling onto my back, I swing my legs off the bed and
pick up the phone.
‘Hello?’ I croak.
‘Dobraye ootra, Mr Raven.’
‘Who is this?’
‘This is reception.’
I smile at the cute voice on the other end of the line. ‘Oh,
hello, dobraye ootra.’
‘Sorry to disturb you, but it is nearly check out. Will you
be staying another night?’
‘Oh … uh, yes, please,’ I quickly reply. ‘We’re definitely
staying tonight.’
‘Spaceeba, Mr Raven, sorry to have disturbed you.’
I put the receiver down and fall back onto the bed.
‘Who was that?’ Si slurs, rubbing his eyes.
‘It was some cute honey on reception. She wanted to
know if we’re staying another night. It must be nearly
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twelve o’clock.’
Si sits up and blinks at the glowing curtains. ‘Twelve
noon?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘But that would mean we’ve been asleep for nearly fifteen
hours.’
I nod. ‘Yep, we must’ve needed it. I mean, we haven’t
slept in a proper bed since that church dorm in Vologda.’
‘Yeah, that’s true. Bloody hell, I feel shagged! My whole
body aches.’
‘Mine, too. That road certainly gave us a good thrashing.’
‘Hey, what are we still doing here?’ Si suddenly shouts.
‘We’ve arrived in Vladi-cockin-vostok. Let’s check out this
town!’
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