The food has gone down so much that you can live another three days. However, it is time to move on, beyond the Urals. I would only like to start by washing myself in Samara. They stuffed provisions in backpacks as they pleased. The rest gave Pitertsam. When they left the camp, Krotov and Shanin headed for the start of the climb up the mountain and started selling books there. I took my backpack at Anton’s and went back to the clearing to see if they had forgotten anything. I see there is a bag of potatoes near the extinguished fire, apparently no one wanted to take it. I put four selected potatoes in one kilogram bag, the other containing the finest onion and garlic. With a hitchhiker from Kiev (I forgot what they were called), we went to Torzhyshche, hoping to exchange these vegetables, at least for ice cream.
It should be noted that on the last day there was a sale at very low prices. We pass, we see the inscription on the tent “Sale of backpacks”, those who yesterday morning were worth 200 rubles, are now offered for 165-175 rubles. The salesman sees that we stopped and immediately came to us: “Guys, drop ten more, and take them. We’re still leaving in half an hour … “Rumor has it that t-shirts bearing the symbolic” Grushinsky-98 “have been replaced by old, dirty shirts! But I was all yellow and new, so I did not go and I did not see this exchange.
So this is it. For whom we did not just offer potatoes and garlic. We could not trade them for ice cream, pot of sprats, or chocolate? Even the kebab merchants have not been tempted, they say, and it’s full … well, okay. Leave the potatoes near the fire. Before leaving, the garbage was transported in a container and all things were checked.
The backpack with me and without potatoes was monstrously heavy. He climbed the mountain very hard, with a break. When I got up – the shirt was wet with sweat.
On the top floor, there is a team of ambalah controllers with red armbands, who “propose” to buy tickets for the train. A crowd of people. All soaked, tired, with backpacks … Someone lends money, someone rides in a backpack …
We quickly lost ourselves. In fact, some people bought a ticket for a stop, others went for a walk in Kordon, 15 meters away. I used the scientific method. Which? Until I say, otherwise next time it will not work.
Ten minutes of the train. In a spring near the station, I got a bottle of water. I rinsed the shirt and poured some on the back. Immediately it became good-oh! The tiredness disappeared, as if I did not climb the mountain with a backpack!
Happy, I found Anton and we slipped on the train. Thanks to the speed of Krotov, even the seats remained (thanks to Anton!). Next to me was a man from Chelyabinsk. We met, exchanged addresses. On the way to Samara, they discussed the expedition that was to take place in 2000 around the world.
The people around us sang songs all the time. I thought they sang the same way, probably, in all the cars on the train.
We went to the station when the whole car sang “Bend of a yellow guitar …”
Anton, after saying goodbye, went to rewrite the program, but not at the station, then went to Moscow “in sabaki”. I went to call on the list.
The automatic phones in Samara are free, however, the consequence of these halyavnosti is that a large number of people wish to chat. I had to wait about ten minutes. By phone, I discovered that I had to go by bus until the last one. I did not know the city, I was upset by the heat and I decided not to stop the system today. Without regret, I gave the ruble to the conductor – after all, to the end!
There was a shower on the list, tea with a pilaf. I started waving to go to the concert in D / C’s “Star.” Reflecting, he refused and sat down to write a diary, fade, and so on.
The next morning (July 7th), it rained a lot. The owners of the apartment went to work and I went to bed again. ( Should we sleep for the future ?!) At lunchtime, the rain was over and … started again. After taking someone else’s umbrella, going shopping, buying sausages for dinner, herring oil, bread and chocolate Samara at 2-90 hours, which “… a generous soul After dinner, I made a big repair and some equipment. He wrote a newspaper.
The rain did not stop until morning.
He left the apartment on Dimitrov Street at 9:45 to walk to the Moscow Motorway. In seven minutes, he was driving with the summer resident towards Togliatti to the intersection with M5. The position was the speed. Only half an hour later, I entered the Zhiguli. The driver was going to the village, so I was asked to go to the nearest traffic police station, but I did not go there – roundabout and bus stop.
At a quarter to eleven, the driver entered his village and I was on the highway again. After 10 minutes, I stop the ZIL with the milk tank and ask to throw it back to Post. ZIL is very old, rolls slowly, everything goes in – impossible to say. Well, here is the post. For Ufa – 357 km.
This post could be called the “dream of the hitchhiker” – two “donkey” on each side. But for some reason, I was not lucky here: the cars went out soon (and I did not want to leave “such” post) or were already with the passengers. I stayed here a long time, until I was “tempted by the same thing” for a quick “Zhiguli”. In 40 minutes, we traveled 60 km and I found myself at the next station. The traffic police have asked me for a long time: how long is the food? How do they do it? But these questions were, it seems to me, purely out of curiosity rather than professional interest.
Once again, local cars and long haulers are gone.
It was in Mordovia. Having no results after an hour of Lent, I decided to “dine” to set the tone. Fortunately, there were plenty of barbecues and cafes nearby.
I entered the tavern and said, “Good afternoon, I am a hitchhiker, I travel for trips to Baikal. She started asking “standard” “why-why” questions. I replied, showed the newspaper “VV”. With the words “Oh! A great traveler has come to us! “I was brought to the table and I promised to feed the first, second and third. I objected that I did not have money for such “gluttony”. The woman said, “… yes, I own the coffee myself. I serve you! In response, all I had to do was give him a “free wind” with an autograph and a pot of herring oil melted by the heat. After lunch, I went out on the street, taking my teeth, and I saw a similar coffee next door. “Do not ask me to boil again?” – flashed a thought in my head. No really
After lunch, I washed my face with spring water, then I felt “at least where!” At 4:10 pm, I found myself behind the traffic police station.
Really, good food can do wonders in hitchhiking. Less than ten minutes, while I took the “nine” 150 km! At six o’clock in the evening (as elsewhere – Moscow time), I was dropped at a fork in Bashkortostan. The place is beautiful: all around the field, in the distance – the hills, the blue sky above the green grasses …
“Ufa 190” – read the pointer.
After 20 minutes, a new businessman Bashkir, a lover of fast driving, came to pick me up. In less than an hour and a half, we arrived in Ufa. The roads in Bashkortostan as well as in the Chelyabinsk region are quite good. ( In some places, even “Excellent!”), we can not meet such people in the Moscow region! Around nine o’clock local time, I landed on the central Ufa Avenue. In Ufa, I already had four lists. I called on three phones – everyone left the city which where today will not appear. The fourth address is without a phone, but it turned out that it is close, a 10 minute walk. However, the desired person has moved to another apartment and you must take a free 12th trolleybus. While waiting for the trolleybus, I communicate with taxi drivers. A woman standing at the bus stop advises me to accompany her in a taxi minibus for 2 rubles. It is possible to wait for a trolleybus for two hours! The woman turned out to be a journalist Influenced by the history of hitchhiking, I first wanted to pay my ticket, but I refused. Then asked to sell his PVP. When we arrived at the place, I took the wisest book of my backpack and, as a “company gift,” also “Free Wind”.
Having found the desired apartment, I did not wait for a reaction to my calls at the door. ( Not surprising – the local time is midnight!) After signing “VV” and putting the newspaper in the mailbox, I put my reflectors and decided to go out of Ufa on M5 to spend the night in a tent .
I vote in the same street towards Chelyabinsk. “Volga” door 300 meters. Immediately another Volga. The driver goes to the airport to meet the chef. We drive along the night of Ufa – the lights are off, which allows for budget savings. I see – a monument, lit by searchlights. “This is a monument dedicated to the accession of Russia to Bashkortostan …”, said the driver.
We are moving away from Post – here, at night, there is a “record” of all cars leaving. The driver stops and goes to the stand. It is registered as well as the car. In 10-45 (again Moscow time) landed under the M5 bridge. Immediately, he was attacked by mosquitoes, this pencil “Dipterol” was at hand.
On the track there are few cars. Stop wanting but want to sleep. From the post office “1465” I go to the lake, at half-past eleven I already fall asleep in a scarf.
Soon I woke up – the entrance was not closed until the end – the mosquitoes came down. Kill the reptiles and fell asleep until morning.