Again it was back on the R-35 with Co-pilot trying to direct me onto any track not worth a name. Our relationship improved as I started to ignore it until it accepted my belligerence.
There are signposts every kilometre and counting these is like watching the minutes on the clock at the back of a class room. The more you pay attention the slower it seems to go. After about 100 kilometres over both days on R-35 I turned onto R-42, which was, perhaps unsurprisingly, exactly the same. Russia is very flat with not a lot happening in it.
The change of scenery was actually a bit of a gamble as it meant going on the scarily named M11 to escape trudging a further 23 kilometres in the wrong direction to enter Kingisepp by a back route. I had visions of cycling down the M25 (or MKAD for you Russians), but then realised I'd crossed it earlier without seeing a single vehicle in either direction. It was busier going into Kingisepp, but not ridiculous and even becomes a 40kph road through the city.
Reading this back I feel like Rimmer explaining his game of risk, but when you stare at a road, a wheel and the horizon all day they tend to dominate your thoughts.
After popping into a shop shattered one babushka told me her life story, and then what all her relations do. If I wasn't already tired physically my mental capacities were certainly getting weary. Luckily she did direct me to a hotel. After a trek around all the nice ones in the city to find they were full I found the grottiest place in town which offered me a room for 800 roubles providing I was willing to share it anyone else who had the misfortune to be forced to stay there.
Enough complaining - the hotel was actually surprisingly decent, and dinner in an equally shabby looking place was positively good.
Will update you with days 3-5 tomorrow.
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