......so I went to explore the clubbing scene of the village of the dammed. Expecting to see people with one eye in the middle of their foreheads and all being related, I was pleasantly surprised to see real (allbeit badly dressed) people, girating on a tiny dance floor to trashy Euro pop. However, talking to a few of the locals I was warned of "serious" Russians that when they got drunk would enjoy nothing more that punching the be-Jesus out of any non Latvian/Russian they could see. Looking around and seeing no-one else looking truly normal (western) , I made a hasty retreat back to the hotel - keeping a watchful eye over my shoulder as I did.

The following day and it was off to Russia. The riding was a mix of long, really long and ridiculously long straight roads. One I measured was 7 miles long without a bend. We did encounter some serious road building (guess where all of the European subsidies are going ?) that required us to ride on the pegs - big boy off roading it was not, but at least we knew how to stand up whilst riding - thanks Boyd.

Approaching the border was astonishing. The queue for the border was 5 miles long. We reckon at least 700 articulated lorries all stationary, waiting their turn.
In our typical non British way, we rode straight to the front and after 2 and a half hours of form filling, waiting and bike inspecting were through. At one point we couldn't believe our luck... we road into the checking area, handed over a few documents and "hey presto" we were free to go...only to find that we had successfully 'gotten out of Latvia; Russian immigration and customs was still ahead.

Since then we had the pleasures of long straight roads (again), heavy rain and tedium. We are staying in a place I can't pronounce (or spell) but suffice to say it's terrible. We splashed out on an "upgraded" room which means the paintwork is slightly less peeling that a normal one. Oh, and we get a choice of pink or tangerine bath towels.

Lunch was another highlight. A wind swept Portacabin on the side of the M9 which was marshalled by 4 non-smiling ex-border guards masquerading as waiting staff. We were obviously wanting food (we had found a table already) but had to mime a hand feeding my mouth to get a nod towards a menu.
This of course was in Cyrillic (example...ÙÔÄÆ×ßÚ) without any pictures. The comedy sketch that followed will long last in the memory of all in attendence but suffice to say that Saad's omelette impression was ace.

Off to Moscow tomorrow which will be great. The weather forecast does not look good but at least we should be doing a reasonable pace - 400kms required.