23/07/08
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Nowy Sacz to L'viv, Ukraine
Today's destination : L'Viv, Ukraine. A feeling of nervous excitement in my stomach at the prospect of my first proper border crossing with the bike. I couldn't wait to see border guards with huge peaked hats and forbidding-looking Cyrillic signs! My excitement and spirits were dampened by the sound of the steadily pouring rain outside. The solid grey sky showed that the rain had settled in for the day and the street outside was awash. It was all I could do to force myself out of bed and into my riding gear. I lingered over breakfast hoping that when I got out the rain would have stopped, but of course it hadn't. 20 more minutes spent gaffer-taping all the zip seams of my gear didn't make the weather any better, either.
I pottered out of the town, holding up the rush-hour traffic - never ridden this bike in the wet before, and not sure how slippery these Polish junctions might be. It was 120 miles to the border at Premysl, via the busy main road through Gorlice, Jaslo, Krosno and Sanok . The going was very slow and wet. The gaffer tape didn't last long and I quickly got soaked and frozen. My boots were full of rain and my card got declined at a petrol station. The smooth start to the trip was definitely over!
It took 4 frustrating hours to reach Sanok and I was 2 hours behind my schedule. But then amazingly, an empty road of perfect tarmac and fabulous hairpin bends through the thickly-wooded hills took me right to Premysl. Despite the pouring rain, I didn't rush that bit. The smell of the woods in the rain was amazing.
12kms east of Premysl was the Ukrainian border. It was comforting to see a British-registered lorry trailer sitting in a layby. A short queue of cars waited at a barrier across the road, their drivers standing around chatting. It looked like this could take a while. I joined the back of the queue and started poking around my folder of documents, but was soon distracted by the group of drivers - they were gesturing me right to the front of the queue! Up at the front, a group of Polish motorcyclists seemed really interested in my bike (not the slightest interested in me, but I didn't mind!). They passed a happy 5 minutes poking it and playing with all the controls. The barrier swung up and the guard gestured us all in. Passports were collected and forms handed out. 3 swift queues and forms later I was at Customs. 'You Breetish?'. 'Heroin? Cocaine? Marajuana?'. Shook head. 'You through!'. Brilliant! A double-stamped customs form, a solid green block of cyrillic in the passport. A guard opened the final gate and I headed into Ukraine.
There was a definite contrast with Poland - fewer cars on the road, more horse-drawn carts, more old ladies with cows on pieces of rope. Plenty of potholes. 60 miles through the countryside and I entered L'viv at 6.00. I was still completely soaked and couldn't wait to get to the Kosmonaut Hostel, to get dry and pile into a warm bed with a couple of bottles of strong local beer. But the day had more challenges to throw at me. L'viv is a historic city with historic cobbled streets criss-crossed by ice-smooth steel tram lines. Not the best place to be on a motorbike in a wet rush-hour. I crawled into the town slipping the clutch all the way, weaving across the road to avoid the slipperiest bits, incurring the wrath of tram drivers and cars. Close to the centre, the road was closed right off for road works, just as my clutch overheated and failed. What a day! Soaked to the skin, and no idea of how to get round this diversion or sort out this immobile bike. Surely it couldn't be the end of the road so soon? One of the road workers and a policeman came over and helped me get the bike over to the kerb. After 10 minutes, the clutch had cooled down and I was on my way again, picking my way down an alleyway to emerge - joyfully - at the opera house. Finally a landmark that couldn't be mistaken. 5 minutes later I was wheeling the bike into the courtyard of the Kosmonaut hostel and recounting tall tales of my day's tribulations to a suitably appreciative audience of backpackers. A long, hard, wet day but hugely satisfying.
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