Sputnik Adventures

Hey Sputniki, hopscotching my way through the Vertical Stripes Tour to tell you about Ufa, where I spent two days en route to Kazan. This was the easternmost point in my travels, ten time zones east of home in Indiana, and about one hour’s drive shy of the border between Europe and Asia. This is the capital of the Republic of Bahkortostan, an autonomous republic within Russia. Although Russian is widely spoken, I regularly heard Bashkiri, a Turkic language, on the streets and in the shops. I was shocked after the oppressive dry heat of Crimea to slam suddenly into drizzly, coldish weather here, but plowed ahead along with many Ufa stalwarts to take in a football game. The rain mercifully let up that evening, and the fans were clearly stoked against rivals from neighboring Oryol. Ufa’s fighting Nyeftyaniks (‘Oilers’; perhaps Ufa is Houston’s sister city) carried the day, so all was well in town that night. My hotel was incredibly cheap, but then again so was the breakfast that awaited each morning. Usually breakfasts are a great deal here, coming as a package with the hotel–this one was bitter roots and a dollop of sour cream. My cholesterol level probably now hovers at around 800.

Overall, Ufa’s green and friendly, and will be visited again. This is necessary as I’m working to connect every place on the planet I’ve ever visited. The connection must be made by rail, boat, road etc (i.e. planes don’t count). The rules permit me to fly somewhere to reconnect the thread, and on a future trip I’ll probably fly to Ekaterinburg, the westernmost Siberian outpost, to link things up and continue the journey. The Vertical Stripes Tour joins two large chains for me, linking every place in European Russia I’ve visited, several former Soviet and Eastern Bloc nations, and cities from above the Arctic Circle to the Black Sea. This is a minor compulsion, and I could deal with it if I wanted to, but then I just wouldn’t be Sputnik Lee. Anyone else out there have over-the-road quirks they’d like to share/confess?

I met up with friends in Naberezhnye Chelny, west of Ufa, the next stop. This was the jumping-off point to last year’s rafting adventure in the Urals, and it was great seeing old pals, including several I’d be staying with in Kazan, during the huge shindig which was to come.

I was here last year and saw a vibrant city alive with commerce and culture. The focus this year has been the celebration of the 1000th anniversary of the city’s founding. Banners, pins, souvenir stands, everything’s geared to the celebration. The concerts held alongside Kazan’s magnificent kremlin (‘kreml’ is Russian for ‘fortress’, but you knew that) run the gamut. Groups mostly are squeaky clean pop acts, except for one that was kind of Joe Jackson gone big hair, if you can imagine that. Last night was the culmination of the celebration, with every square foot covered with people of every stripe, even vertical. Aside from the general positive vibe, it’s worth noting that the celebration was conducted more in Tatar (another Turkic language) than in Russian, and that there was a genuine outpouring of pride in Tatar culture and patriotism. The celebration showed none of the friction which has prevailed between Russian and Tatar peoples in both the Imperial and Soviet pasts, and I enjoyed myelf with a posse of both Tatar and Russian friends during my time here.

Laser lights on the kremlin and the newly-opened mosque (the largest in Europe), music and more music, smoke and light show beacons, a fireworks display to die for, and an overhead air show of fighter jets from around the world made this an orgy of sight and sound. How else to finish up a celebration like this, but to hop on to the opening day of the city’s subway system. Kazan’s new metro is spanking-new clean and slick, and goes to all the places around town that have been painted, remodeled, or built from scratch to be ready for the event. Looking at the new basketball fieldhouse, the hockey arena, the broad new public concourses, and the overall hum of prosperity I was forced to ask, ‘Where’s all this investment coming from?’ ‘The oil revenues, of course.’

It’s no secret that I love Russia and its many peoples. I wish them well in all things, and am gladdened by the material and civic progress that greets me with each new visit. So, if the price at the pump frosts you today, at least take solace that all the profits aren’t going to the Halliburton balance sheet. It’s making a real difference with real people over here too. So gas up that Land Cruiser and go for a spin. Cheers

Sputnik Lee

More about Kazan later.

Sputniki, I’ve never seen security in Russia stricter in a dozen years of travel here. Buses and trains routinely stop at control points on the rail line or the main road, but I am now (usually the sole foreigner on board) always yanked from the bus, conducted to a military truck and asked several questions before my documents are registered and the bus is allowed to proceed (on the train they compelte the process in my cabin). My friends say this is part of the heightened security associated with the 1000-year anniversary celebrations in Kazan, and that Russians themselves are experiencing more visible security measures. Putin and a host of foreign dignitaries are in town, so it’s perhaps understandable, but still can feel a little unnerving. If a few extra stamps in my visa page is the worst part of my trip, who could possibly complain?

I really need to tell you more about Crimea, now well over a week ago. The peninsula is rugged highlands, burning hot in summer, but absolutely beautiful along the coastline’s cliffs, and serene inland. I left the city stuff in my apartment in Sevastopol and took a couple of days hiking inland to the abandoned cave cities of Manhup Kale. Natural caves in the cliff faces were expanded to provide remote protection against invasion in the 15-16th centuries. I learned just how remote with every step along the steep trail leading to the top of two mesa-like outcroppings. Several hours of arduous climbing made me curse every superflous ounce I had packed (not very many, really, but I felt each and every one keenly).

But what a reward at the top. First, a cool, fresh-water spring was the finest drink anyone could ever want. Although there were other campers about, I could pitch camp in a secluded spot and revel in the long sunset over the granite cliffs. Dinner of kolbasa, bread, fruit and cheese was like manna from heaven (no fires for cooking or anything else, it was exceedingly dry). And finally, mornings that came early and had to be exploited fully before the full heat of day. Remnants of roads, churches, homes, and fortifications carved into rock centuries earlier gave me pause–walking in those same steps is a moving experience. Everyone, go out and find the most ancient place within reach, and see how it speaks to you.

As one of the BnA geezers, I have to put in a commercial word for trekking poles. They saved me great stress on the joints going up and down the trail. BnA pups should also make the investment in a decent pair of poles–a bargain at twice the price. Don’t ever feel that stamina should stop you from getting out to the cool places–at every level of age, fitness and ability, you can always get farther than you thought.

Contrast the heightened security in Russia with my experience in Ukraine. Back in Sevastopol, I got views that intelligence types would have literally killed for during the Cold War. Sevastopol remains a major port for Ukraine and Russian naval fleets, and the neighboring town of Balaclava was a major submarine development center and harbor. Incredibly, I walked down narrow streets until I was mere meters away from dozens of warships. I stepped casually over a knee-high chain at a gate, and ambled unchecked among sailors and dock workers as they went about their business. No pictures–I didn’t want to push my luck, and I kept going until instructed that I could go no further, without any fuss.

At Balaclava, a magnificent harbor was a top-secret location for submarines, and a tunnel carved into the mountainside at water level could be seen across the harbor from the clutch of tourist watering holes and hotels. For a better view of the harbor, I climbed along the wall of a Genoese fortress that had been built some 600 years earlier (hardly the oldest part of town, as Balaclava had recently celebrated its 2500th anniversary of its founding). Hidden from view during the climb, the top yielded a sudden, breathtaking view of the Black Sea. Fortress ruins and more recent excavations were in harmony with cliffs spilling to the sea. Pix to come, promise.

When I left Crimea for Russia, I went by bus eastward to a narrow strait where the Black Sea and the Sea of Azov converge; the Russian city of Anapa was reached by ferry in 30 minutes. Aside from my glimpse of the Sea of Azov, this was where I could exercisea favorite pastime of mine, centering myself on the planet. As the ferry slipped along the the calm surface, I faced north and placed myself on a large map superimposed on the earth, thus knowing exactly my location on the world. This can be done anywhere, but it’s a lot more fun doing it at a dramatic place on earth like Gibralter–or here. Try it–no matter where you go, there you are. Cheers

Sputnik Lee

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