The border between Europe and Asia is nominally somewhere around the Ural mountains. Officially there was a monument marking the border, with a painted line depicting the demarkation point. The original monument is in Pervouralsk, a town with a name meaning literally “first of the Urals”.

On the main M51 just outside of Yekaterinburg, there’s a new monument about 20km further east than the original. The new monument is a popular place for weddings (particularly between Asians and Europeans I expect!). It makes sense to move it I suppose, the original is notoriously difficult to find. Put the new one on the main road and everyone’s happy.

The path up to the monument is strictly no vehicles, so there was no chance of getting a picture of the bike with one wheel in Europe and one wheel in Asia. Had I even tried, I would have been chased by the angry woman who guards the path – shaking her fists.

In my experience however, my bike is marginally faster than an old woman even when fully loaded. It was like a gunfight in a spaghetti western. We both knew exactly what the other was thinking. Eyes narrowed, tension mounting, eyes wide as someone yelled ‘Draw!’. I gunned the throttle and she gave it legs after me.

I just had time to get one photo before I had to bail. I felt like such a rebel!!

My first impressions of Yekaterinburg are that it’s big, very big. This is a big city for sure, but also very modern. No soviet era tower blocks, just plenty of glass fronted new style skyscrapers. A lot of the signage is in Roman text rather than Cryllic, giving the place a very European feel. As Russia’s 4th largest city, it would be worth spending a week here.

This is a place rich with history, grand old churches and temples standing side by side with modern architecture. The “cathedral on blood ” is where the Romanov family, the last Tsars of Russia, were executed. (Not in the picture). I counted no less than 4 museums between where I parked my bike and the Traveller’s Coffee Shop, a place that appealed to me for some reason!

Unfortunately, the European feel also brought European pricing. Coffee and cake was over 300RUB (about $10).

I got a real buzz from the place and would have liked to have stayed longer. I found a very reasonably priced hostel in the university, or rather I DIDN’T find it! It looked good on Google, but I was defeated by one way roads and a lack of information. With the traffic building I’d had enough, so I skipped bail and headed for the state line. (The border actually, more on that later!).

Is there anywhere in particular that I should see in Russia? That’s a question I asked a few people prior to leaving. (Russian people obviously). They all said Yekaterinburg. OK then, next stop Yekaterinburg!

Complete with flowers and pigeons, like so many war memorials the world over. A fitting tribute to the bravery of those who fought, the sacrifice of those who died.

In Chelyabinsk there was a memorial park for the second world war. It was very pretty, with a good playground for children and clean toilets. As usual the grass was 3 feet tall, which is a real shame. I didn’t care though as there was a long line of tanks on display!!

Unfortunately none were for sale, but while taking pictures I heard music and wandered off for a look. Someone was obviously making a professional music video, sitting with their guitar on top of a tank whilst being filmed. Sitting on a tank is obviously fair game, so I had to get my photo!

I asked the next passer by if they would mind taking my photo. A guy of about 50 took my phone without saying a word. I motioned him to stand back whereupon he fell over backwards. At that point I realised he was completely pissed! It took me by surprise as it was only 11am. He wouldn’t give back my phone and motioned me to get on the tank.

OK. He’s not going to run off with my phone and I’m not going to get a good photo – but I’ll play along. I realise then that I just can’t get on the tank, it’s too high! After a couple of failed attempts I kind of sensed that someone was behind me. I looked round and there was a tiny babushka, complete with head scarf and moustache – just staring at me.

I was about to say something when she bent forward and cupped her hands, as if to give me a boost up. I gave her a look, as if to say “are you serious old woman?”. She got the meaning and started shouting at me.

I AM A STRONG WOMAN! YOU ARE A SMALL MAN!

OK, OK, I’ll play along. I put my boot in her cupped hands and she boosted me up a treat, grinning from ear to ear. Drunk man could hardly stand up, but he took my photo and this is the result. It’s a petty good picture considering!!

Chelyabinsk is somewhere I’d been looking forward to for a long, long time. Originally when I planned my trip I intended to travel with a bike and sidecar, which meant I’d be able to get through China. The route would have been roughly Singapore, Malaysia, Laos, China, Kazakhstan, Russia, Europe. After leaving Kazakhstan, the first place I’d come to in Russia would be Chelyabinsk.

Of all these places Russia always held the most attraction for me, so I’ve spent a lot of time looking at Chelly on the map.

A welcoming sign was a good start, to what’s essentially a mid sized grey city – full of former soviet era big buildings. The kind I’ve seen in so many other places, I’d almost call it a typical Russian city.

Despite this there was no disappointment. I’m in Chelyabinsk! After all this time and effort just being able to say that makes it all worthwhile.

After the fight we left the hospital via different doors. We didn’t speak in the morning. I’m kidding of course! Ken has had enough of his rear shock and wants to bomb it straight to Moscow. I can understand as I know what it’s like riding with no dampening. Horrible!

I didn’t want to ride 8 hours a day for 3 days solid and miss some of things along the way. So, the guys are blasting for Moscow while I’m cruising the longer way round. I expect to catch up with them in a week or so. Hopefully Ken will have seen the last of his suspension problems by then!

Good luck finding a replacement shock, or getting yours rebuilt Ken. Moscow is a big place and as the saying goes, you never know your luck in a big city!

No dermist! Next to that tank was a guy selling stuff out of his Lada. It’s quite common in Russia to see cars parked at the side of the road with people selling their wares from them. Mostly it’s home grown produce like potatoes, watermelons, onions etc.. Sometimes мёд or home made juice.

At the top end of the scale, full stalls are laid out, painted in bright colours and they look beautiful. At the other end is a knackered Lada with a bucket of spuds on the bonnet. This guy had something completely different. He was a taxidermist, and petty good at it too. He’d got a small sample for sale, along with some handmade sheath knives. Very tempting, but as I explained I don’t have the space. (I also have poor Yorick, who’s amazingly been allowed to cross 3 borders so far!).

He was a nice bloke but I didn’t catch his name. Good luck selling your stuff mate, it’s very good!

Unfortunately…