A night in a hostel in Novosibirsk: If I could find one

August 7, 2014

Only memorising the first four letters of the town you need to go to does not work in Russia

Another Vladimir, this one drove past me and stopped to talk to me twice

Only a very brave driver would follow that arrow

After Barnaul the road was better as there was more forest interspersed with areas of agriculture and a few towns and villages as well to keep things interesting. And just 48 hours after leaving Barnaul I arrived in Novosibirsk, Siberia's largest city. The cycle into town wasn't a whole lot of fun, but the city centre was nice enough, with lots of parks and a green space in the middle of the main street again, just the same as Barnaul. I wanted to stop for the night here in Novosibirsk so as to have at least one registration slip. I wasn't sure whether it was really absolutely necessary to register at all, nobody seemed to care all that much about my registration last time, but I thought it a good idea just in case, and I hadn't had a shower since Almaty.

I had the address of a hostel and I cycled out to it but when I got there I found that the place had closed down, so I needed a new plan. I had seen another one of those 'Traveler's Coffee' places in the centre and so my new plan was to sit outside it and steal their wifi in order to look up another hostel. I figured it wasn't really stealing because they owed me about two euros anyway. Unfortunately I couldn't pick up their connection so I cycled around randomly for a bit and then stopped on another corner that had a few cafe's around and flipped open the laptop again to try and find an unsecured connection. I got one but it was very slow. As I was waiting for the page to load telling me where I might find another hostel a man on a bike came along the sidewalk and asked if I needed any help. His name was Max and he looked to be in his thirties, although he was wearing the baseball cap and clothes of a much younger man. I explained the situation to him and he called a friend to ask about a hostel, although that just lead to him telling me to go back to the address of the closed one.

The page was still loading when another cyclist arrived, this one shirtless. Had he been a much younger man I would have suggested that Max had stolen his clothes but as it was he appeared to be even older. His name was Michael and the two of them made an odd pair, riding around on mountain bikes on the pavement looking like teenagers. Finally the page loaded and I made a note of the address of two other hostels, but trying to get google maps to load to find out where they were was a lost cause. One was at 50 Lenina Street though and I asked my new friends where Lenina was. They looked blank and shook their heads. "Come on guys, Lenina! It must be one of the main streets." But they clearly had no idea at all. Then Michael looked up and pointed above our heads at the name of the street we were standing on. Lenina. Nice when stuff like that happens.

They insisted on cycling with me and it was a few blocks away and took a while to get to. When we finally arrived at number 50 we found not a hostel, but a police station, which was a bit of a surprise. Max cycled around the back of it where there was a block of flats and started ringing every buzzer and asking if they were a hostel. Buzz! "Hostel?" "Niet!" Buzz! "Hostel?" "Niet!" Buzz! "Hostel?" "Niet!" It seemed to me if any of the apartments was a hostel they would have put a sign somewhere but I let Max get on with pissing everyone off and got my laptop out again to steal some more wifi. This time I got a better connection and was able to locate the other hostel on a map, and the three of us were off again.

Finally we arrived at something that looked like a hostel, it even had Zokol Hostel written in big letters above the door and everything. I just knew there would be a sign. Me and Max went inside while Michael watched the bikes and with great good delight we found that the girl on reception was the most beautiful girl in the world. This is, truth be told, the real reason why I stay in hostels in Russia. It wasn't the same most beautiful girl in the world as in Saint Petersburg, at least I don't think it was, she may have just taken on another form, but she was definitely equal first most beautiful sitting there with her long brown hair and pretty green dress. She informed me that the cheapest bed in the hostel was a rather excessive 13 euros but with that legendary charm of mine I was able to sweet talk her down to nine. Then Max tried to pay for me, which was really nice of him, but I could hardly let him do that in front of the girl now could I?

With grateful thanks I said goodbye to Max and Michael and got settled into what was one of the nicest hostels you could imagine. Everything was new and modern and clean, there was a washing machine to use for free and the best shower I'd had in months. I got myself all cleaned up good and proper, put some fresh clothes on and was looking sharp. I then headed merrily back out to the reception area to 'check the weather.' But instead of the most beautiful girl in the world I came face to face with a big fat ugly woman. 'If you've changed form again you've really screwed up this time.' The girl in the green dress had finished her shift and gone home, and I'd lost all interest in the weather.

Of course I hate staying in hostels because I can't sleep in the same room as people who snore a lot and when I saw a huge great big fat man walking the corridors I thought 'I really hope he's not in my room!' At almost exactly the same moment as I was thinking this he turned into my room. That's just the way life is sometimes. He laid on his bed and looked at his computer on his chest and in this position he was wheezing and grunting with every breath in such a way that he was effectively snoring whilst still awake. I consoled myself by thinking that whilst having to spend the night in the same room as this big fat unhealthy man was a bad thing, it could be much worse, I could be this big fat unhealthy man. His awake-snoring wasn't too loud though, and I was sufficiently tired enough to fall asleep.

I awoke sometime later with a start. My first thought was that a herd of wild boar had somehow gotten into the room, and I quickly tried to think of a way to defend myself, but then I realised all of the noise was coming from Mr Too-fat-to-breathe-properly. He had evidently had enough computer time and fallen asleep, which approximately coincided with the time when everyone else in the hostel had to wake up. The last few times snorers had kept me awake in hostels I'd resorted to physically assaulting them, but it didn't seem like such a good idea with this massive Russian animal, and so I dragged my things out to the common room and slept there. Not that a closed door and a long corridor were enough for me to not be able to hear him, but at least the noise was muffled a bit.

The next day I needed a bike shop as I still wanted to find a new crankset that I hadn't been able to get in Almaty. I found a shop run by two great guys, Alexander and Art, but they didn't have any new stuff, just used parts. Still, they gave me a couple of chainrings for free, and then Alexander cycled with me to a bike shop that did have new parts, and just the new part I was after too. The guy in that shop was great as well, and gave me a big discount. It seemed to me that people, at least the ones that ride bikes, were really nice around here. And with my registration slip and all the spare parts that I needed there was no reason for me to hang around in Novosibirsk any longer. I had a whopping 1,800 kilometres ahead of me to the next city of Irkutsk, and with the clock ticking I rode on out into the icy frozen tundra of Siberia.

He's a bike mechanic, but that's not oil on his face

06/08/14 - 139km

07/08/14 - 91km

Today's ride: 230 km (143 miles)
Total: 24,455 km (15,187 miles)

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