Visas & Russian Bureaucracy

Russia is famed for pointless paperwork and the enthusiastic nature of its policemen to fine you (and keep the proceeds) so we have been VERY careful to drive below the speedlimit and not attract any unwarranted attention From the Police. We've been stopped a few times - like everyone else at checkpoints - and found the police to be generally helpful and polite. We've only had one lot try to fine us (for going over a white line which apparently is regarded here as a much more serious offence than say fiddling the country out of a few billion and then buying a football team) but just stick with the "No and sorry I don't understand" and after about 5 minutes they move on to some less obstinate individual. You see them fining people every few miles as you drive. It seems that if you are guilty you get to sit in the police car and watch a video of your crime on the police laptop. And Russians are like moths to a flame for it. They speed happily, don't wear seat belts, undertake and use their phones with gay abandon and all the policeman has to do is stop the next car that passes and its sure to be guilty of something. Its like shooting fish in a barrel.

The bureaucracy though is in a league of its own and God knows (or possibly even he is flumoxed) how they will get tourists and competitors In to Russia for the winter Olympics effeciently.

You need a visa to get in - fair enough, you must apply for it less than 90 days before entry in your country of residence and must state the dates of entry, ok a bit more tricky for us but we managed it as we have 2 passports each, you must then register your visa when you arrive AND stay in one place for 3 nights. If you don't stay anywhere for 3 nights then you don't need to register your visa until you do, and indeed hotels won't register your visa unless you stay 3 nights, but if you arrive in Moscow after 9 nights and haven't registered your visa like us, then you will be fined because you haven't registered your visa because you flippin well couldn't cos they won't let you! But, the great thing about Russian bureaucracy is that it seems unable to cope if you say no. The police backed down from their fine and once we said no to the fine for our visa it was registered no problem and the staff became smiling and helpful from the grumpy and sullen they had started with. It is baffling.

Oh, and we tracked down the tourist information office in Moscow but it closed last year! Unbelievable, this is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, so they close the tourist Information office, that's Russia!

Roads, boredom and the Kamkaz

We're now half way in our three day drive to Moscow and today the scenery has gone from long straight roads with the odd bend and fields full of Sunflowers and wheat with trees interspersed to trees interspersed with fields full of wheat and sunflowers with the odd bend on long straight roads!

The roads in the morning were pretty poor and we bumped along losing one speaker, some interior trim, 2 broken shelves in the fridge and the hose for the windscreen washer along the route to vibration damage. Its not so much one bang that does it its more attritional. So at lunch we stopped for repairs and found the afternoon roads much better. One thing that never changes on the roads here is the ubiquitous Kamkaz truck. These dinosaurs of the road are a product of the great Soviet Manufacturing Industry and consequently look like they are made from the leftovers of a large Airfix kit , badly I might add, and have a flat out speed of around that of a cyclist, empty. Load them with watermelons (as almost every truck is) and give the truck even the slightest hint of a hill - a signpost will do - and the engine starts to belch out smoke that a destroyer would be proud of and its speed drops to that of a granny on a bike. It would probably double the speed if the exhaust pointed backwards with the amount of fumes that come out of it at the speed of a jet engine. It must take them a week to get to Moscow - if they ever make it, we passed 63 broken down vehicles today, one every 5kms.

Moscow tomorrow!

Stalingrad

The drive from Elista was through non stop steppe - slightly undulating, grassy and monotonous. You can see Volgograd from miles away on the horizon gradually getting bigger and bigger. The city stretches for over 60km along the Volga, but you can almost through a stone over it widthwise as it hugs the land between the mighty river and a bank of hills that run parallel to the city. Its a 2 hour drive from top to bottom or a 5 minute drive from side to side!

As we had approached the city the memorials to battles pased on the roadside with a Katyusha rocket launching truck mounted on a plinth and on the edge of town an enormous soldiers helmet by the side of the road. According to our guide book the only things to see here are the locks on the Volga which we passed on our way in and the numerous war memorials and museums to the 2.5 million people who died and were wounded here - twice the current population but the city is a great example of Soviet city planning as planners got to build the city virtually from scratch. Wide streets, plenty or parks, grand buildings and monuments to the great Patriotic War in the center surrounded by a never ending army of tower block apartments. The center has a certain appeal, though it is by no means beautiful, but the residential districts look dreary and cramped. Even the river front to the Volga which is simply huge is more like yarmouth in the 60's and quite a contrast to Rostov. There is a nice park that leads from the centre with an eternal flame down to the waters edge guarded by two small Roman temple like structures but this fronts on to a half hearted fun fair. Further down river is a dreadful 70's building resembling a space ship, all concrete and glass and smelling like a public toilet that is almost too hideous for words.

What Volgograd does do superbly is commerate the Battle of Stalingrad and it does this all over the city. There are sculptures - one of a cut away bomb falling onto a mother and child was particularly poignant - plaques, graves, museums and even pictures of Lenin on roof tops lit up like Vegas! But its two most moving places are Mamev Kurgan or Hill 102 as it was known in the war which dominates the city and river and the Flour mill. Like many other parts of the city It changed hands numerous times - the central station was captured and lost 4 times in one day - and has now been made into a huge memorial to the Soviet soldiers, both male and female. The hill is surmounted by Mother Motherland a 80m statue of a woman weilding a sword, a church with the traditional gold onion domes and an underground eternal flame about the shape and size of a very large circus tent adorned with names of soldiers, emblems of presumably regiments and the hammer and sickle. The flame is guarded by soldiers who are relieved by goose stepping colleagues. Behind the Statue is a commerative wall with some token graves in front. The wall is about 40m long and has 7200 names on it. It would need to by 5.5 kms long to get just the names of the Russian dead on alone.

The battle is full of obscene records and startling stories: the bloodiest battle of all time, the most casualties, the shortest life expectancy for a new Soviet soldier -less than a day, the highest sniper kills for one sniper at over 400, tanks being driven out of the factory unpainted and manned by volunteers straight into battle, female anti aircraft batteries holding the Germans at bay for days, on the 14th September 1942 the 13th Soviet Guards Division arrived and assaulted and captured the hill by the 17th all 10000 of them were dead, of the 91000 Germans who surrendered with field Marshall Paulus's 6th Army only 5000 made it back to Germany, one incendiary bombing raid killed 40000 civilians, a long time before Dresden, the pre war population of 850000 was reduced to a post war population of 1500 Dig into the hill even today and you still find metal and bones from the battle. It is mind boggling depressing to Think about.

But, the memorial does justice to the memories of those soviet soldiers who perished here in a dignified and moving manner.

The stalingrad museum is located next to the remains of the Flour Mill which has been left untouched. Its also opposite Pavlev's house, a memorial to a Sergeant and his platoon who held the apartment block against repeated German attacks allegedly killing more Germans than died in the fall of Paris. The museum is an all Russian affair with the only English being the telegram from Coventry to Stalingrad sending its admiration for the heroic city from the worst bombed British city: its interesting and the Panorama painting of the battle in full flow is very detailed and moving but it could do with a few bits in English or German here and there.

There are no memorials to the Germans here, and it took us a while to find that there was one 35km out of town in the middle of nowhere. It is a mass grave to 50000 Germans their names listed on blocks stewn across the land scape and opposite a mass grave to Russians with helmets laid out on headstones some with bullet holes in them. It is nicely kept, though the German side is more overgrown, and very moving.

We left Volgograd in stifling heat and started on the 1000km journey to Moscow. The roads are pretty poor and we barely manage 40mph so its going to be a long journey!

Not that left!

Not that left!

We left Rostov in a hurricane and it felt like we were driving on two wheels for the first 100kms as the wind swept across the flat land. Our route was planned to keep us off the main roads and take us on the small roads to Volgograd. These by and large have been of reasonable standard and cut through the now Fenlike farmlands in a series of long perfectly straight roads with a bend every now and then to keep you on your toes. There is very little traffic, few villages just farmland growing sunflowers and some kind of wheat. After a day and a half the farmland begins to give way to steppe and we start seeing cows and horses grazing it.

We've had a few problems with the sat nav since we got to Russia and it was convinced the other day that we were North of Moscow! It must be taking lessons from Linda. Poor Lindas had a hard time of it this trip, the curly scripts of Georgia and Armenia at least had English translations occasionally, but here in Russia most signs are in Cyrilic' occasionally in what seems to be a cross between Latin and cyrilic and only rarely in plain Latin. Add to this womens uncanny ability to say left when they mean right and mens unerring ability to to turn right when told left, only to find that really was left and we thought we had ended up far from our intended route when we arrived in Elista and were confronted by a town full of Budhist statues and temples and people who looked Tibetan! This is however the largest Budhist city in Europe, probably the only one too, and the temple is a wonderful sight with bhudas and pagodas surrounding the main beautifully decorated temple. Every few minutes a wedding party turned up for photos and we spent a lovely couple of hours watching them pose on the manicured lawns and waterfalls.

The town center is a clash of cultures with a Budhist park and temple being overlooked by a statue of Lenin who looks somewhat miffed, either at the temple of the 50 or so games of chess going on beside him! Even The bus shelters are the shape of temples and the information boards look like prayer wheels. But it was a very cheerful place with lots of children and families wandering around, we really liked the place.

Not that left!

We left Rostov in a hurricane and it felt like we were driving on two wheels for the first 100kms as the wind swept across the flat land. Our route was planned to keep us off the main roads and take us on the small roads to Volgograd. These by and large have been of reasonable standard and cut through the now Fenlike farmlands in a series of long perfectly straight roads with a bend every now and then to keep you on your toes. There is very little traffic, few villages just farmland growing sunflowers and some kind of wheat. After a day and a half the farmland begins to give way to steppe and we start seeing cows and horses grazing it.

We've had a few problems with the sat nav since we got to Russia and it was convinced the other day that we were North of Moscow! It must be taking lessons from Linda. Poor Lindas had a hard time of it this trip, the curly scripts of Georgia and Armenia at least had English translations occasionally, but here in Russia most signs are in Cyrilic' occasionally in what seems to be a cross between Latin and cyrilic and only rarely in plain Latin. Add to this womens uncanny ability to say left when they mean right and mens unerring ability to to turn right when told left, only to find that really was left and we thought we had ended up far from our intended route when we arrived in Elista and were confronted by a town full of Budhist statues and temples and people who looked Tibetan! This is however the largest Budhist city in Europe, probably the only one too, and the temple is a wonderful sight with bhudas and pagodas surrounding the main beautifully decorated temple. Every few minutes a wedding party turned up for photos and we spent a lovely couple of hours watching them pose on the manicured lawns and waterfalls.

The town center is a clash of cultures with a Budhist park and temple being overlooked by a statue of Lenin who looks somewhat miffed, either at the temple of the 50 or so games of chess going on beside him! Even The bus shelters are the shape of temples and the information boards look like prayer wheels. But it was a very cheerful place with lots of children and families wandering around, we really liked the place.

Sochi Bribes and Roads and Rostov

Sochi was not at all what we expected. The difference between Turkey and Sochi is quite astonishing. It took us a while to find our way out of Sochi and we passed glitzy hotels restaurants and bars in abundance. The roads were lined with trees some palms and loads of fairy lights. It was almost like a fairy land though probably more like Vegas.

We had tried to find the camping but it is very mountainous here and the road winds up and down with numerous hair pin bends and even at midnight is heaving with traffic, so in the end I took a lead out my dads 1970's book of his Dormobile experiences in Europe and stopped and asked a taxi driver. They had no idea about camping, but he led the way to a 'stayanka' - guarded parking - where we spent our first night.

The coast road is probably the most winding up and down road we have ever driven on, its also the only road here as on one side the Black Sea sparkles and the other the mountains loom large covered in trees. So, when they have an accident or resurface you spend hours and hours covering a couple of kilometres - which is what we have done today. What makes it worse is the Russian car drivers who just go down the oncoming lane (or over the pavement) and push in. We witnessed numerous near misses and a few stand offs where an oncoming lorry just blared its horn and made them reverse up the road. So for 11 hours driving we covered 147 kilometres!

We have passed loads of camp sites where the tents are so crowded you couldn't walk between them. The beach is shoulder to shoulder and any flat sand area (lots of the beach is shingle) is used as camping too. It reminds me of Glastonbury, especially when you realise there are no loos! The developments of hotels and the towns have been very modern and quite nicely done. It is though 100 miles of a holiday camp, not really our cup of tea but far superior to anything we had expected. Its amazing how quickly things have developed since the fall of the Soviet Union.

We had been told horror stories of the amount of bribes we would have to pay the Police here and as they have checkpoints every 100km or so and a patrol car every 5 we had thought it may cost us around $1000! The Turkish/Russian couple we met said they had to pay around $200 per trip to Russia - about 600km round trip, but we have passed lots of speed traps and police at the side of the road none of whom have shown any interest in us. We've even stopped and asked for directions and they've been polite and helpful. Early days though.

The roads here are a mixture of western standard dual carriageway and 3 lane bone shakers. The older roads are like being in a bomber in heavy flak as Taffy bangs and crashes over the tarmac and then suddenly lurches sideways as we slip into a groove left by lorries, it can be very noisy and the road is very hard to read as it actually looks to be a smooth surface but in fact is a top layer laid on broken up road underneath. This is gradually being replaced but in a country this size there is an awful lot of bone shaker left!

450km later We arrived in Rostov! We had left the Black Sea and the foothills of the Caucuses behind and passed through hundreds of kilometres of farmland that resembles Suffolk on a MUCH bigger scale. All the agriculture is mechanised and the fields huge and interspersed with lots of trees but very few towns. Much of this is Cossack country and we stopped at a Cossack museum and memorial on the crest of a hill dominating the surrounding landscape. We naturally arrived in Rostov as usual at rush hour. We got stopped by the Police who checked our papers and then told us where to park but we couldn't find it! We narrowly avoided being rammed by a Lada which overtook us, we think he was trying to get us to hit him or was totally off his trolley on vodka but taffy is very responsive and we must have looked as though we were going to turn over from the front as we swerved!

After a stressful exit of Rostov we found another stayanka on the motorway and plotted up for the night exhausted.

The next morning the stayanka owner acted as our taxi and took us into Rostov on Don. He stopped on route at some of the main sites here for us to have a look around and left us at the cathedral which was a lovely onion dome affair. Inside it was full of gold, gold candle holders, gold icon frames, and 3 majestic gold Altars. It was quite a change from the depressing monastery interiors of Georgia. That really is the one site to see here and probably isn't actually worth a trip to Rostov to see but as we were here we enjoyed it. We spent the rest of the day walking sitting and watching the world go by. It was lovely! Rostov is a quite European city in the architecture and certainly not what we expected. It seems prosperous and has some lovely parks and a few gorgeous buildings. The river front on the enormous Don is pedestrianised with cruise boats and cafés bars and restaurants and hundreds of people promenading up and down it.

So our first few days in Russia have been quite a shock. No corrupt police (so far), overall quite good roads, lots of signs of westernisation and prosperity and even the houses look Pretty decent. Huge malls and Hypermarkets (fresh milk and cheddar!) seem to by common to any larger town and the Lada is outnumbered by 'Normal' cars.

From Russia with Love

We were in bed and asleep by the time the ferry left Trabzon and we awoke to blue skys and calm seas, wtich was very welcome. We are right in the center of the ship and despite the mill pond of a sea its hard to walk straight in the van as the ferry rolls from side to side at any opportunity. We'd hate to be on it in heavy seas!

We arrived in Sochi at around 17:30 and then began the somewhat slow process of clearing customs. First the footies are seen at the bottom of the car deck ramp but not allowed to set foot on Russian soil, then almost like starting a horse race they are given the signal and they rush to form a queue at the customs building losing one or two of the elderly over the edge of the quay in the melee. Next foreigners in cars are seen. Strangely there were 3 German guys all travelling on their own, and two Turks all of them on beasty bikes plus a Georgian car with a Russian girl and a Turkish partner who could only communicate in English! The common language was English and 5 hours after everyone else had long gone home we were the mobile canteen providing food and drinks to all.

In the end after dropping the colleague routine in we were cleared at midnight! We went 10m and couldn't get any further as the car park was jammed and had to wait another 20 minutes for the cars to get moved but tired and in the dark and in the Las Vegas of Russia with the whole place heaving with cars and people and thumping music blaring out of every building glitzy lights covering every inch and palm trees swaying gently to the beat, we had arrived!

Captains log, supplemental...

We've now been on board for 8 hours and had a lovely time talking to a Russian and a Syrian muslim about everything from Palestine to relationships to politics! It was fascinating to hear their views on us and the west. One thing always seems to Be constant though whoever we talk to in the muslim world and that is how much they like Britain and the west. As it was getting on for midnight we said our goodnights and returned to a lashed down Taffy and checked the ships onboard automatic navigation passenger information system (ie looked over the stern) to see how far we had got and sure enough we are still tied up in Trabzon!!

The best laid plans of mice and men....

Its certainly made for an interesting 24 hours trying to sort our passage to Russia out. It all really went wrong with the Poti to Novo ferry. We had enquired about that as soon as we arrived in Georgia and got the provisional sailing date of 15th July. We had applied for our visas based on this but the shipping company decided to cancel this sailing and the next one won't sail until the 25th (if it actually sails at all) so we were left with two choices, sail to Ukraine or go on the rust bucket from Trabzon. Oh, and inbetween this we tried the land border! The problem with Ukraine is that last time we went we had problems getting in due to our weight (Taffys that is not Lindas!) and it was only after a phone call to Kiev that we were allowed through the controls. We don't mind this at a land boundary but it would be awful and expensive if we had this problem in a port and got refused entry as we would be made to ship out again. So, Trabzon it is!

We drove down from our overnight pitch high in the Caucus mountains where the overnight temperature was 8C back to Batumi where its a very muggy 30C. In the morning we had the heating on, in the evening the air con! And to make things more fun we parked up again at another TIR brothel and actually had drinks with the pimps and girls who helped us fill up with water and then had the tour of Taffy. We are beginning to think that all TIR truck stops are brothels.

This morning we crossed back into Turkey after visiting Gonio a complete Roman wall around a field that once was a town similar in nature to Caister outside Norwich, but probably the most enjoyable museum was yesterday in Gori - Stalins birth place who have a museum built specially to commerate the better aspects of Stalins life. It is full of pictures and gifts from other countries and we were told by the guide, in terms that reminded me of intourist Tours in 1972 that the Chinese still adore him. The museum is built around his house he grew up in - literally, and has his 88 tonne armoured train in the courtyard and in true Reed fashion I sat in his chair and started giving my orders, which Linda dutifully ignored as usual!

We got to Trabzon, found our ticket office and had it all booked in around 5 minutes. The next day, after one final night in turkey we arrived at the port and loaded on to the weather deck. We had millimetres to spare all around as we parked up towering over the pasenger deck and will have a fantastic view of the rough seas as we cross.

So farewell from Asia!

The long and winding road...

We hopefully said our last farewell to the brothel and began the drive north up the Georgian Military Highway to the Russian Georgian border. We have decided to try to cross the land border right in the centre of the caucuses rather than drive to Poti and get the ferry after numerous lorry drivers told us it was the best way into Russia. They told us that despite it going within inches of Chechnya it was safe and so we approached the embassy in Tblisi to check. They said they had had no reports of problems but would advise against non essential travel to this area, however they would consider our driving to Moscow as essential so that was fine then, if somewhat confusing! We phoned the Russian embassy who said the border was open and the road safe for us to travel. We also spoke to Russian lorry drivers who said we would have no problem and this morning picked 2 Russian hitch hikers up who had been through the border and also said it was open, safe and our onward route to Moscow would also be safe. You can't do much more than this so we're off to Chechnya! (well not really but pretty close). Naturally enough when we arrived we were told that the border was closed to Brits! So its back to Poti for the ferry at the weekend or early next week. Whilst this is a bit disappointing - we will only get 3 weeks in Russia now on our visa- it was our original plan and we had left some sites to visit on the way back such as Stalins home town which we will now get to see.

The drive up the military highway was stunning. It was Austria in 3D supermarionation! The road wound its way through valleys with the small hills giving way to large ones, then these being replaced by mountains and in the distance the 5km high Kazbeck mountain getting nearer and nearer. We past a wonderful church sat right on the edge of a picturesque lake (man made) that could grace the cover of any travel magazine and eventually the road began to climb in a series of hairpins into skiing country with very pleasant, if slightly chilly temperatures of 27C.

The biggest surprise of the day however was passing an Italian Motorhome convoy heading south. They looked even more shocked at the sight of us than we did of them!

It has been so hot here, we've been having 3 showers a day at times and Taffy gets up to 40 inside on some days after a long drive with the engine acting as enormous heater. So the cool air in the mountains is very welcome indeed! We are fortunate that our bedroom is air conditioned and we've been able to have the air con on every night to cool us down nicely (around 20C) but it is usually in the 30's by the time we get up outside. It's odd, but in some ways we are finding it harder to cope with than Egypt!

As the road gets more into the mountains it goes over the pass at 2700m and the road is very poor and runs above the lingering snow hiding in shady areas! The road has avalanche galleries but these are only used in the winter as they are in such poor condition so you drive beside them. The mountains all around you are a mixture of colours with grass and snow being complimented with red washed out by the iron rich mineral water and a large area of cream coloured calcium deposits where a broad stream is slowly depositing its calcium forming a meringue like hard wall behind the stream.

The last town on the road north was Kazbecki which is overlooked by the beautiful Tsmini Church high up on the hills above. The town is more of a village and is the first place we've seen evidence of numerous tourists with backpackers using the town as a base for walks up into the surrounding mountains.

A little further north after 11km of dreadful road the border post is contrastingly brand spanking new! We asked if we were allowed to cross here and were told "No English Passports" - just goes to show how reliable advice from embassies is! So we made our way half way back to Kazbecki and found a lovely bit of old road overlooking the thundering river below and pitched up for the night.

Tsminda Church is a two hour walk from Kazbecki and naturally enough we set off and it rained for most of the climb up. Its a really steep walk and quite strenuous but the view from the top is amazing. We had brought a picnic and as we reached the top it stopped raining and we were able to sit and enjoy our picnic huddled together to keep the wind off just like we were in England!

The priests in all the churches and monasteries we've visited always appear sullen and grumpy. they have long unruly beards and their black cassocks are often grubby. They remind you more of teachers about to tell you off for walking on the grass than representatives of God!

The church was a typical church for this region, a separate bell tower and a small stubby square cross shaped chapel. Outside they are beautiful often with ornate carvings and writing on them, but inside they are generally dark and depressing with numerous dark icons on the walls and a solitary throne in the middle for we presume the priest.

We walked down the hill in some sunshine and no rain and were dry by the time we reached Taffy. Parked in front of us was a German Motorhome which we had passed in Armenia! We had a chat to the owners and then set off to spend the night in the pass surrounded by mountains.

We opted for a day off in the morning and caught up on cleaning and repair jobs and defrosted the fridge whilst Linda played on the computer all day! And as the weather closed in we had a roast dinner with stuffed onions, yum! Our lunch had been brought by a couple who stopped to say hello and then returned later with two trays of food! We also had the Germans stop in to say hello and some Dutch tourists as well as dozens of other people stop to take pictures and peer through the windows and door. Just a normal day then!

Halt who goes there?

Our plan for Georgia was to visit the David Gareda monastery which is close to the Azerbaijan border in the desert like step. We had been told Taffy would easily navigate the dirt road route but when we got to the road we couldn't even get on to it because it was so bad. Queue the arrival of the local drunks in their 4x4. They said there was a tarmac route over a huge hill that would lead back to the dirt road missing out the start section which had been rendered impassable for us by flood damage. They drove off erratically speeding up the hill and round the hairpin bends like mad teenagers. They must have been in their late 50's and were so far over the limit that a blood test would be hard pushed to find any blood! It was the steepest hill we've ever been up and we crawled up in first eventually getting to the top. There is no way that our old van would have been able to get up the hill and we were pleasantly surprised that Taffy took it in her stride.

The road down was just loose stones and we debated whether to carry on or not. The drunks waved us on but eventually we persuaded them that we would not follow them and they broke out the vodka! I sadly declined a drink saying it was due to religious beliefs and they told me that vodka was their religion! They waved goodbye and sped off down the track swerving and skidding as they went. That's when the Georgian Special Forces arrived.

We had wondered why there was a perfect tarmac road in the middle of nowhere, well it led to the Georgian Army SAS basic training camp and the base commander had rolled up to find out what we were doing there. The Major looked every inch SAS complete with gun tucked casually into his trousers almost like he grabbed it just before leaving the camp to intercept us. Not that he needed it, he could easily have killed us both with one hand whilst doing the Times crossword! He asked where we were going and we explained and he said no problem (he spoke 6 languages) he would give us a military escort to show us the way and he would come along too! I explained that we felt Taffy would not be up to the road and so we wanted to camp somewhere, he at first said there was nowhere we could camp within 4km of the base, but taking pity on Linda's horrified look that we may have to drive another 4km of terrible roads, he found us a spot on the helicopter pad on the edge of the hill. The track to the pad was overgrown and had a steep sideways slope, so much that Linda got out and walked it but we were rewarded with a perfect camping place surrounded by 500m sheer drops on 3 sides and fantastic views all round! The Major stayed and chatted to us for an hour or so and even arranged a driver to take us to the monastery in the morning.

The trip to the monastery was a 10km drive over a poor track and we were pleased we hadn't brought Taffy. The monastery was beautiful, it was a mixture of caves, chapels carved into the rock and red block built buildings nestled into the side of a hill surrounded by Russian step. The step is like dartmoor but a lot hotter. There are very few trees and little grows but a thistle and hardy grasses and flowers. It is an uncompromising place and just the type of place you train soldiers. We noticed the soldiers here in full kit doing 4km runs followed by an ambulance. With it being 40C 4km must seem a lot further. The monastery was used for target practice during Soviet times and was in fact one of the first places to have demonstrations to protect it in the Perestroika times. Ironically it was then used by the Georgian military for the same thing leading to more protests and its eventual protection and reuse by monks.

The guide books say that high above the monastery there is another chapel on the peak of the hill and a series of cave chapels with some wonderful frescoes in them on the far side of the hill face. It says some fitness is required for this hike and half way up the masive hill, which really was an aspiring mountain, we found this to be an understatement. It was absolutely baking in the low 40's (we found out later from the Major that the government had issued a heat warning!) and the climb had to be done on very slippery dusty slopes that at times required you to go on all fours! Oh, and did I mention the scorpions and poisonous vipers? We had brought plenty of cold water but by the time we reached the LOCKED chapel we were overheated and worn out. The view was tremendous and we spent a long time in the shade of the LOCKED chapel recovering from our climb. Eventually we were joined by some young Americans who had used up all their 500ml of water and asked if there was any up here! We let them have some of ours but to go anywhere in this heat with so little water was crazy and it was ironic that all of them worked in a local hospital as volunteers.

The climb down was if anything more scary than going up. The 6 inch wide dusty dry path stuck resolutely to the edge of what now was clearly a small mountain with absolutely sheer drops off the side. At times the path had collapsed completely and you had to scramble up the rock face to get over the hole. The cave monasteries provided some shade but with graffiti and collapses were shadows of their former selves and to be honest not worth the 3 hour climb. The one bonus from this hike was that Lindas back held up fine.

So we returned to Taffy drank gallons of water and made our way to our familiar camp of the brothel in Tblisi for the night to be swamped by lorry drivers with offers for tea and coffee like long lost friends.

Return to Tblisi

We left Yerevan and headed to see the two UNESCO sites just south at Echmiadzin. One is just ruins and a bit disappointing but the other is the Vatican of Armenia and is a complex of a small cathedral surrounded by gardens and priests accommodation buildings and various other churches dotted about the town.

The cathedral seems to be working non stop with people coming in to kiss the icons and light candles as well as get children baptised. It seems a bit odd to see the baptism happening whilst others pray or do the rounds of the icons and all the while tourists mingle freely with everyone.

We also visited the treasury which contains the actual spear tip that pierced Christs side, 2 pieces of the cross and a large section of Noahs Ark! It seemed as though only people bearing the travellers Bible - Lonely Planet who treated these pieces with some scepticism!

Leaving the town we actually felt as though we were on our way home as we now head north for a few thousand kilometres till Moscow! We weren't done with challenges though and headed for 'the worst road in Armenia' to visit Garni temple and Geghart Monastery. The road winds its way up the hills outside Yerevan and passes a view point with a huge Arch which is supposed to frame mount Ararat and Yerevan. The haze over the city however leaves the snow capped top almost floating freely over the clouds and smog below.
The road from here turned into a plasticene road twisted by a toddler. It dropped suddenly in places almost as if the child had snapped the plasticene and then jammed it back together, further along it was twisted and made Taffy lean at alarming angles. It was slow sea sick making going but only lasted a few miles before a proper surface resumed. Cunningly all the local road side vendors congregated on the slow going section and you almost had time to lean out of the window and pinch items as Taffy swayed between the stalls!

Garni temple is a fantastic reconstructed Roman temple sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the chasm below and well worth the trip. The view alone was breathtaking and we sat for hours just gazing at the river and mountains around us. The temple was in a small walled city and 4m of the 14m high wall remain together with the gate. We camped right outside the gate and had all the local stall holders come in for a tour. We ended the evening at a local bar with half pints of a fizzy red wine overlooking the gorge with just the crickets for company.

Early the next day we drove on to Geghart, a working monastery carved out of the cliff right at the end of the road. We were so early that it hadn't opened which must be a first for us! The church was like most here dark inside and somewhat depressing but there was a service going on which was interesting to watch. The caves had been carved into small chapels with wonderful carvings in them and apparently were unusually carved from the top down.

Our final stop on our fleeting visit to Armenia was at the border where the usual disorder and chaos rained. You queue to get into the compound but cars just wiz around you to jump the queue it is as usual bedlam. When you finally make it inside you park and take your papers to the Customs Broker who has a steam powered PC in an unair conditioned room with 20 people all pushing and shoving to get their papers seen first. It was 40 outside and probably close to 50 in the tiny office. Eventually the PC can take it no more and crashes due to the heat! The official clears the room but we having got to 2nd in the queue stand our ground and he let's is stay in whilst the PC reboots. Eventually completely soaked to the skin we emerge ready to get our passports dealt with. To do this you drive to the exit barrier and then get out and begin round two of the Argy bargy push and shove that is Armenian border control. Of course at this point there is no point in shoving past the person in front as no one is going anywhere with Taffy blocking the controls. This naturally makes no difference to the locals but we were fortunate to have 2 very big American Armenians who were behind us and made sure we got dealt with promptly. And that was it , 10 minutes later we were sailing down the road in Georgia and headed to the David Gareda monastery and an encounter with the Georgian Special Forces as we managed to drive into a military camp!

Yerevan

The crossing into Armenia was pleasantly hassle free. The Armenian officials were helpful taking us from point to point to get the visa, Taffy x-rayed, the insurance, the Eco-tax and finally to make the payment into the bank for all these things. There was no corruption and all the officials tried to speak the odd word of English. The controls were still the baffling ping pong array of going from pillar to post to get various stamps etc that seem to be a hang over from Soviet times.

Once in, the scenery again instantly changed as we left the rolling hills behind and began climbing into the foothills of the mountains. The road follows the river passing through increasingly impressive gorges and very depressingly poor villages. It seems to be the poorest country we've visited so far but perhaps that is only this area. Small towns have large derelict factories crumbling and overgrown on the edge of town, an obvious Soviet remnant and unemployment in this area is very high. The buses have cylinders on the roof for presumably gas and look 50 years old or more. They drive along with whole panels missing from the engine bays and rust seems to be an integral part of the design.

Many of the homes look abandoned, though we think some are still lived in. The corrugated roof sheets have slipped in places and gaping holes now gaze skywards. Nothing has been painted in years - except a crash barrier on the road that had a team of men painting it black and white - and window frames and doors are often rotting. It is extremely sad.

The scenery however is almost from a fantasy film and you half expect to see a dragon fly past being chased by knights at any moment.

Our first stop is Hagput Monastery which sits on the top of the valley gazing out over the river below and the hills opposite. The hills don't gently drop down into the valley they just seem to vanish below and the hill tops are flat enough for a Soviet town full of ghastly high rise blocks to sit right on the edge looking like a backdrop to a Doctor Who set.

The Monastery is UNESCO listed but has no entrance fee or floodlights at night and apart from some grass that has been cut looks neglected with grass growing out of the roof. Inside the swallows nest freely and the floor has circles of droppings below their nests. It is dark, damp and depressing and we thought a sad state of affairs for a 1000 year old treasure. There was however a service going on in one of the multitude of buildings with a priest and 3 choirboys being the only people present. In its pomp 1000 monks lived here and ran a school and library. Hopefully as Armenia develops they will spend money on this place. At present everything seems to have been done through USAid. One benefit of the lack of official support here is the stalls that surround the monastery entrance. All the items for sale are hand made locally - often by the people selling them - and there is not a sign of a made in China sticker anywhere. The vendors speak some English and say we are welcome to camp there for the night surrounded by cows and chickens, they are as usual lovely people.

The next day we carried on to Hageputs sister monastery Sanahin. This is also perched high up on a hill but is more compact and we liked it more. It is next to a graveyard and at the front is a large plaque perhaps 2m x 1m to a family killed in a car accident. The plaque has life sized head portraits of the 4 people who died and a picture of a lada flying off the edge of a hairpin bend into the canyon below. The girls were teenagers and it is deeply saddening but people still die in droves here on the roads, and ironically as the roads improve the faster they die. That said they are far better drivers than Georgia.

We reached Yerevan around 5pm and it was still 39C. We had left the canyons of the Debed River and driven up through mountainous hills (!) which were covered in a carpet of green but very few trees. The road had passed dozens of groups of beehives by the road selling honey and Taffy had thinned out the bee population quite considerably by the time we started our descent to Yerevan. As a backdrop to our drive the 4km high snow covered mountain Aragats stayed on our right for miles and miles.

Yerevan is another sprawling city and is one of the more attractive examples of grand Soviet architecture - except the blocks of flats which are still crammed together and sag and lean like old men. The central Republic Square, once adorned with a statue of Lenin is now a monumentally huge roundabout. But it is flanked by an impressive array of buildings gardens and fountains. All over the city similar grand buildings,many in need of attention, abound.

We decided we couldn't face a day here as the heat was overpowering so we opted for an evening stroll instead as guide books didn't rate it too highly. However we again were surprised by how modern it was. Apart from the Soviet buildings there isn't a lot to see, but there are hundreds of outdoor cafés and by 10 the place is heaving with families and couples all dressed up strolling about. The cafés congregate around the opera house and are really luxurious with sofas pianists chandeliers and uniformed waitresses all around the pedestrianised square and lake. Like Tirana it knocks spots off anything we have in England and it is such a contrast to the depressing tower blocks on the edge of town.

Even the old Soviet statues and monuments here have been accommodated into the city plan and the large cascade - an enormous series of staircases in gardens leading up to the obligatory Mother Armenia statue on the top of the hill high above the city is brightly lit and bustling with people.

We met an Armenian American (why are Americans always from 2 places? I must remember to describe myself as Saxon English to the next one we meet) said that 10 years ago there were rolling blackouts here and 15 years ago no power at all. He said the development here had been at a phenomenal pace but it is by and large done sympathetically to the existing architecture.

We had been directed to park at a minibus terminal on the edge of town with the lorries. We got a taxi back and had to convince some locals that we knew where we were going before they would let us get into the taxi as they were very concerned for our safety going to such a "not nice" area. We had a very peaceful and Uneventful night with the other trucks.

Cocktail Time

What a difference a day makes!

A night to remember

On our way to the border we got stopped for the umpteenth time by the police, but this time the policeman was a little Hitler and tried to steal our camera as it had pictures taken in Armenia on it! Quite how when we haven't been there and have passports to prove it I don't know. Perhaps we'd popped Taffy in a rucksack and climbed over the mountains took a few pictures and then climbed back! His policy was to try and separate me and Linda but we wouldn't have any of it. He wanted to take Jon into the office and told Linda to stay in the van. We refused and said we would both come. He promptly let us go and stopped someone else.

As it happened this would turn out to be the most pleasant experience of the day.

We got to the border at around 4pm and it turned out that there had been an error in our paperwork on entry (not by us) that had left the computer thinking we had already left the country. There was much shouting at us and at people on the phone and then it was decided we would have to return to our point of entry to leave as it was their error! Fine, but passengers of vehicles around here are cleared on foot, so Linda had already got an exit stamp so wouldn't be able to come! I said I wasn't going without her and that as it was their error not mine we shouldn't have to return to our point of entry. They called their chief and an hour later apologised and said we could leave and all had been resolved.

Taffy was not at the car checkpoint where this happened but at the lorry checkpoint. They said their colleagues had been informed and we could proceed happily and kept all our entry papers. I asked them to come with us back to the lorry hall and explain this but they said it was not necessary. So we got back to taffy drove to the checkpoint and they wanted the papers that the other checkpoint had kept! They made us reverse out of the hall and park up again. Eventually they agreed all was in order and we could depart and we broke down!

Taffy wouldn't start as it had apparently a flat battery. We managed to get a jump start after an hour and found that now the on board computer was having kittens and wouldn't let us engage a gear. We daren't stop the engine as we wouldn't be able to start it so tried to get the MAN service line to send a tow truck. Their is a huge dealer in tblisi 50km away so this should be easy. The service centre couldn't find Georgia or contact any garage. We asked the customs for help and they wouldn't, nor would the police or army. They all seamed quite happy for us to Spend the rest of our lives there.

The gardens at the complex were watered by 4 young men who tried to push us up the hill and over the border but fat Taff is too heavy for that but they did arrange for a truck to come and tow us. The truck came and hooked up and got us to the control and the officials wouldn't let it go any further - even 20m to get us on the gentle decline so we could roll to Georgia. So we rolled back to park up again. The very helpful gang of gardeners tried again, this time getting a Mercedes van to come from Georgia through the controls and hook up with us and tow us back. It was by now 4am.

There then followed a very scary tow through the mountains to the garage in the dark, but by 7.30am we were safely in the MAN compound and by about 1pm it was fixed. We started Taffy up and found that the fuel filter was full of rubbish - the fuel here is poor grade and so the fuel filter was changed as well- for an extra cost of less than £2!

Traumatic eh? Not a bit, this would all have been a breeze in the park on its own. What made the night easily the worst experience of our lives was the attitude of the Azerbaijan officials and in particular the boy soldiers. They stole food and drink from our fridge, tried to steal aftershaves and perfumes and demanded Azerbaijan money - which we fortunately didn't have. They spent the whole time learing at Linda and making sexual gesture and even openly masturbating with a hand down their trousers. They constantly talked at you clearing making sexual comments which we fortunately couldn't understand and all the time their officer, the police and customs just laughed. It is easy to see how atrocities occur in war when you see human beings getting pleasure trying to frighten other humans for pleasure, particularly when they are vulnerable like we were. But, we are seasoned travellers and damn it, British. We are the masters of self control with the stuff upper lip and all that and it us vital that you do not react, because that is what they want you to do. If you do then arrest fines and seizure of taffy would all be options open to them, so we remained calm, and tried to organise the tow. Although Jon had to deal with all the people - they won't deal with women, presumably because they are far too high up the evolutionary chain, Linda in particular, had the brunt of the attention from the toy soldiers and didn't react once. The officials were the closest we have ever come to what it must have been like dealing with Hitler's SS in Germany. You are totally at their mercy as law and orders and rules and regulations are meaningless and the power of the gun is the ultimate decision maker.

You will probably be horrified reading this but this is the sanitised version of events. Re-reading this I feel it barely scratches the surface of how frustrating, repulsive and genuinely frightening it was to both of us.

It seems that the people of Azerbaijan and the officials are two different peoples. With the exception of the point of entry officials we saw the police at many places taking bribes and at the customs hall it was free for all with officials basically taking whatever they wanted from cargo and drivers backed up by machine gun toting teenagers. Corruption us endemic here but it us most obvious in the uniformed officials. The non uniformed people on the other hand were some of the nicest we've ever met and we have invitations to return to stay with people which we sadly are unlikely to make as not surprisingly our desire to go through that again is non existent.

Contrast that with our experience in Georgia on our arrival in the early hours of the morning. The police gave Taffy on tow an escort through Tblisi, the policeman at MAN opened the compound early for us to be towed into and then the garage bought us breakfast and one of the English speaking staff spent hours talking to us. After we had been repaired - one of our battery contacts had corroded and come loose with all the banging roads- something that with the speed of diagnosis, appears common here, we parked up near the UNESCO Jvari church and got woken up at 1am by the police telling us it was not safe. We said we'd move in the morning but apparently this wasn't good enough as 4 uniformed officers turned up a little later to ask us to move again. They all spoke excellent English, were not after bribes and were genuinely concerned about our well being. They even gave us a mobile number to phone if we encounter any problems here. So we ended up back at the tblisi brothel we had stayed at on our first visit and slept for 15 hours solid, our first sleep for 40 hours! Georgian police a few years ago were as corrupt as Azerbaijans. But they had a peaceful revolution which reduced the police numbers dramatically and paid them more whilst making them more professional at the same time. Azerbaijan can change if it wants too, and it certainly needs to but corruption there, we were told starts, as with most non democracy's, at the top and it is hard for corrupt systems to change as the people instigating the change stand to lose the most.

Before going to bed yesterday we managed to find a proper supermarket that seemed to import everthing from Germany and we had a great shop - bags and bags of shoping replacing all the things we've found hard to get and getting luxuries like croissants and fresh milk, they even had Strongbow and Cheddar and we have woken up to a lovely sunny day with croissants for breakfast and feel refreshed and raring to go again. We're not quite ready to face Armenia yet -another corrupt country, but I'm sure after a couple of days we will be!

Meanwhile, today is a day of rest and Monday we are back to the MAN garage as the computer is still getting the occasional error and as their hourly rate appears to be about £3 we thought we'd sought that here not at home! This will be Taffys 5th visit to a MAN dealer this trip and 7th to a garage. German engineering!

Sniper Alley

Last night was the first night we'd found it hard to find somewhere to camp. The main reason for this was the non stop road works which made getting off the temporary road very difficult. In the end we stopped at a police checkpoint and they said we could camp there. At 7:30 the next morning they were banging the door wanting the tour with the chief examining the fridge and asking for a beer! Corruption is rife here and whilst I cleaned my teeth I saw through the bathroom windows two pay offs take place. Having said that all the police ever ask for from us is something English (for which we have pens) or occasionally beer, and they are always helpful and let us fill up with water too.

We decided we couldn't face another morning of roadworks so headed towards the border with Nagorno Karabakh! This area is another FCO no go area due to sniper fire but as Taffy has bullet proof windows.... It also is one of the most beautiful areas of the country. The road ceases some miles from NK and there are checkpoints from the army along the route, our guides say you are unlikely to get past them if they know you are foreign. We drove to the first checkpoint and met a young man who spoke excellent English who told us the army were happy for us to continue on the road if we wanted to but he said that you couldn't get much further and the best views of the mountains were before the checkpoint not after. So we turned around and pulled off onto a grassy layby to plot up. The view was amazing. We are perched about 500m up the side of a hill overlooking a valley below with the near 4km peaks of the caucuses just behind the hills opposite. The peaks have snow on them and in the valley people are picnicking and others harvesting crops by hand. The hills are tree covered and the road here was lined with cafés and picnic sites. It certainly doesn't look like the snipers have put anyone off here! We had a lovely afternoon reading, planning the Armenia section and doing nothing and then the tour parties arrived! Not conventional tour parties but families out for the day. The first family- 10 in a Lada- stayed an hour, gave us flowers, took photos and invited us back for tea. The next group all men 10 minutes and the next lot overlapped with them - more men. Then another family, more photos a few less brave groups just wandered around the outside and then our final double family group who stayed from about 8 till 11! They took photos and invited us for tea and to come back to see them another year. Their 15 year old daughter was the translator And it was a wonderful night. We were exhausted when they left! In total we've had about 60 people tour Taffy today.

We will cross back Into Georgia and then Armenia in the morning and so will lose our blackberry email as it seems neither of these countries have support for uk phones. So you may now have the next 12 days in peace, unless we find a wifi connection that is!

Linda hurt in volcanic eruption!

We left the fire temple and, as it was a bit hotter, headed to fire mountain! No tiny eternal flame like fire for us on a day when it was 35C, let's have half a hillside of raging fire like an effect from a theme park!

Fire mountain is a hill that was accidentally set on fire 50 years ago and is still merrily burning away. Obviously its not the hill that burns but the gas that continually escapes from under ground. The fire itself is about 20m long by about 2m high and burns much like a gas fire on Full pelt. It must have been a great sight to have seen the poor person who accidentally lit it all those years ago probably throwing his cigarette but down and half the hillside explode as a result!

We spent the night there and came and sat and watched it burn late into the night and dearly wished we'd brought some marshmallows. The cafe was the usual dingy falling down industrial unit which looked in desperate need of demolition and we made the mistake of having tea there as we were overnighting and ended up with more food poisoning!

The next day we headed north to the coast to the resort equivalent of Caister on sea. The beach was lined with restaurants and bars many of which looked nice apart from the rubbish everywhere you looked. This was a bit of a shock as everywhere we had been so far in Azerbaijan was rubbish free. The main town though was a typical Soviet mess. Wide streets and plenty of parks, trees and monuments were the highlights, the crumbling mini tower blocks derelict factories and decrepit roads the low point. In Typical Soviet fashion one whole coastal strip was lined with factories whilst the housing lay behind and where you did have the houses near the beach elsewhere you diverted the lorries onto the beach so they could bypass the town, so we found ourselves driving on sand past bemused holiday makers!

We arrived at the petroglyphs at Qobustan early afternoon and had the whole UNESCO site to ourselves. The carvings on the rocks are in places very clear and have been linked to the carvings found in Norway. The site is high above the plain below and looks like someone dropped a load of very large Lego bricks in a pile. Most of the carvings are done where the blocks have almost formed caves. You can almost picture the artist at work as you admire them.

The car park here overlooks the plains and the Caspian below so we asked if we could stay the night. We were told yes but had our first experience of an attempted con. After having arranged a taxi to see the mud volcanoes the next morning the guide told us we must move Taffy into the museum compound as we would not be safe outside it. I thought this highly suspicious as we had already asked 2 different museum people if we could camp there and they had said "No problem" so I asked him how much this would cost? 10 manats - £9. So we said we would be fine where we were and had a lovely peaceful night with a tremendous view!

After our peaceful night we visited the mud volcanoes by taxi- the track probably would have been ok for Taffy but we would never have found them on our own. They are, as the name suggests, mini volcanoes made from erupting mud forced out of the ground by gas. They have little mud flows down the side of them just like their real volcano brothers and bubble hiss and spit almost constantly. They are fascinating to watch and poor old Linda got a bit too close and got splattered by one of the spitters!

We had decided to head back to Georgia via the inland border with Iran and follow the lower caucuses mountains rather than head over the boring scrubland of the interior. Unfortunately the road was closed and the detour was an unsigned trek across really poor roads. We decided to stick to the main road which up till then had been perfect - naturally it was then being replaced and had road works for the next 250km! We spent a large part of the rest of the day crawling along temporary roads the equivalent of and English farm track! We'd have been better off on the dirt roads.