to drive in the paths that the lorries
had cut out for us.
That first day was fun. It was cold,
it was scary, but the adrenaline was
pumping and despite the conditions,
we were actually moving in the right
direction - something many people
told us would never happen.
We arrived in Khabarovsk that
night completely drained and in need
of a good lie down. We found a suita-
bly cheap motel and flopped on to our
beds. Thirty minutes later our silent,
lying-down time was rudely interrupt-
ed by a knock at the door.
I opened the door to a smiling
Russian guy holding a bottle of vodka
and some tomato juice, behind him a
waitress holding two bowls of piping
hot soup.
“Eat. Drink vodka?”, said the Rus-
sian guy, smiling from ear to ear.
Starving hungry and keen for a stiff
drink, we gleefully welcomed him
in - he gestured for us to start eating.
Five minutes later, another knock at
the door. The waitress, this time with
two steak dinners! We were blown
away. We had been living off soup or
noodles since we arrived in Russia
and our eyes lit up. He handed us the
steaks and gestured for us to tuck in
again.
We spent the next few hours
TRAVERSE 21
hanging out with this guy. He spoke
no English and we spoke no Russian
but with every passing shot of vodka
we understood his toasts even more.
Through the aid of google translator
and our exceptional charades skills,
we had full conversations with him.
All manner of subjects covered, from
Russia’s involvement in Syria, to
Brexit and even to the age-old Cris-
tiano Ronaldo or Lionel Messi debate.
It turned out he was in the army
and didn’t want to be put on our
social media or have his name men-
tioned anywhere. He just wanted to
welcome us to his country and have a
good laugh. In the end we all drank