The fourth morning has risen up. The chap couldn’t sleep almost all night long. However, some great excuses make it clear:
- Yesterday I used the sun scream so thriftily that the hell a bit it helped me!
- While I was cycling the last tens of kilometers, I managed to fill up myself with isodrinks, which I had bought in advance. The result – the loo checked every single hour.
My gaffer has a wonderful feature. Whenever he goes, he can find a common language with anyone. This moment is not an exception. He becomes the best buddy with the owner of the camping for a long half an hour. That’s why he enjoys his morning coffee from host’s cup.
Looking over the area of the camping. The stranger, the more interesting!
Don’t you mark time! Move somewhere!
The conclusion is brief and clear: get used and drive.
What a sad moment. Time has come to say goodbye to my daddy and sister. Well, sounds as nothing special – they had come to see me off, to help me to cope with the first night stay in the tent by myself – and it really makes sense.
The camping is left behind and I’m heading to Riga direction. Having pedaled a significant bit of road, a strange feeling of freedom overwhelms me. The family and friends have remained behind. Since now –just me and the road!
Latvian policemen the motorbikes pay me the respect.
I need to stop at bus stops to rest my legs.
The Hydroelectric Power Plant of Riga. The Daugava River is dammed up. Choky heat has no sorry for me. Despite it, I’m pedaling the bike around the dam without any wish to have a swim there. The road A6 changes the road A5. The “Salaspils memorials” road sign captures my attention. Anyway, it’s time for lunch. My sister had provided me a lot of meat cutlets with fresh vegetables.
Getting closer. I can’t believe with the nightmarish view in front of my eyes. In the gigantic field, the huge, massive concrete sculptures are staring at me as the scarecrows of Easter Island. I have expected to see nothing like that! I have assumed to find at least a memorial board and a bench, just not this.
The pictures don’t reflect the real size of sculptures.
Concrete - nothing else - just concrete. This is how it used to be in Soviet Union. “Dudes, we have been left a lot of concrete, let’s do something!” Well, to be honest, there is a granite pad with the loudspeaker installed in the middle which beats eternal drum or whatever.
You know, it is weird feeling to see so much concrete in one place. However, there used to be Nazi internment camp with 12000 imprisoned people; 2000 of them were murdered. Stagnant concrete represents a tool to express the toughness and fortitude of those who had survived; their painful memories. Then, it fits here perfectly.
You can find more information here:
After having a slight touch with history and dined on the concrete stair (actually I haven’t found a bench around), I’m pedaling to Riga. Oh dear, I stuck into the devil’s meat chopper. The flow of cars (especially industrial ones) is terrible and just a tiny roadside for me.
To escape of this hell, I turn off into the parallel to highway road. And I start to regret at once. What a huge mistake! Bikers - with an enormous dissatisfaction on their face - and me are waiting at the railway boom barriers for about 15minutes. Briefly speaking – we have been drowning in the mixture of heat and smog.
Even later I can’t get rid of that killing smog on the road to Riga. The road is a disaster! The traffic is terrific! Sometimes I ride on the wrecked tiles and knocked out pavements that for sure damage my bike. I suffer for my bike more than for myself. The bike starts to whine, and I start to curse.
I had known the bloody time to come one day, just had not a single mind to start doubting so soon if my bike can reach the final destination.
At last I arrive at Mezapark and jump into the waters of Kisezens immediately. No doubts - I have deserved that euphoria feeling! Total calmness and purity overwhelms me after sloughing off the jungle of industrial suburbs.
It’s not evening yet. Still there is plenty of time to find a cozy camping somewhere around Carnikov – a town, situated near the river Gauja. I go round in circles but no camping around. Cute evening dusk is coming. My bike approaches the uptown. In a hectic way I push the buttons on my mobile with an idea to find the camping with internet almighty. I keep a sharp eye on the mobile. Definitely there is no need to follow the road. I’ve seen enough.
Suddenly I sense a hit and fall down from the bike. I can’t realize what have just happened – I’ve bumped into a red Opel that calmly snoozes on the roadside with the Latvian guy inside. The guy is also shocked. He manages to jump out of his car with the question marks in his eyes waiting for the explanation. I pretend I have no skills of Russian at the same moment apologizing for the misunderstandings while he rushes to call to his friend painter. Then I hear a fantastic sum of money – 100 euros for the repainting of the bumper!
The front right bag lies on the ground. Its holder is bent. Thanks God, the bike and the wheels are unharmed. The Latvian ticks over his car while I tick over my bike. We both mumble something to ourselves: me – in English, him – in Russian.
“Sport is good, sport is good, but buffer – not good” blows through his teeth Latvian and it makes me laugh. Fortunately I realize that everything is going to be well. I kneel down at the buffer trying to rub the black spots from the car with my slobbery finger. There’s no scratch, just the paint from my bags. After I clean them off, we both leave apart happily.
Deep breath full of relieve. Back in search for the camping. In order to cut off the road, I take the road through the forest. At Lilaste town I get into the 6 km of moss and white sand path. Those who have experienced the sandy forest paths and thin tires, definitely will understand me. What a spree!
Well, I‘ll tell you one more fiasco. Finally I find sort of WAKE board park camping, agree with night fee and place for the tent and what I see around, changes all my plans. I pack my stuff and leave this place as soon as possible. Certainly I have no wish to stay with the residents of this camping – young boozer, spitting the sunflower seeds and gulping warm vodka. The reason is worth to cancel my reservation.
At least I spot the place in Paintball Park. No dinner, no shower – just sleep! I feel terribly exhausted!
I am exhausted. The bike is wobbling and creaking as deadhead pensioner. Still have no place for the night stay. The sunset. It’s gorgeous!
Have no idea about the next morning. I don’t know…
111km of today:
Bye!