In the wind

My motorcycle arrived in Одесса via container ship from New York harbor. I finally took possession of it late in the business day on a Friday. I still owed the forwarding agent part of his fee. That meant I was stuck in Одесса until Monday. This was not a fate worse than death.


Одесса is a party town. I was elated about finally having my iron hoss between my legs. Getting it was an aggravation and stress for everyone, including Жанна and her language skills. I went out to play.

Жанна and I had a little tiff before I departed Киев to Одесса via train a few days prior. I had already decided the flat was hers. There were ten more days before the rent was due. I had left her a little money.

From my perspective, I didn't need Киев. With a motorcycle I could live in a small village or anywhere else in Украина. (Ukraine) The only problem was my big suitcase. That was all I left in the flat. I can't pack that on my motorcycle. I would need to arrange transportation to wherever I set up camp.

So, I called her to tell her the good news. Stress and trouble is over. It's party time. I'll be home before the rent is due. I'll get my suitcase. "Having a wonderful time - wish you were here," etc.

About a day and a half later I met her at the train station. My bachelorhood was over. It was to be a 2 up ride through Southern Украина.

I gave the bartender at my favorite watering hole a souvenir Wyoming license plate.

Коблево...

...was unplanned and unexpected. One reason I am usually a lone rider is I like to go. I don't like to wait for the rest of the riders in a pack, nor stop so often.

From Одесса, I was certain I could reach Зализный Порт or Херсон or, at least Николаев, on our first leg of this road trip.

However, Жанна and her luggage was another factor. We needed to make "adjustments" along the way.

Since the rental of our flat in Киев, this was the first time we collaborated on finding temporary lodging. It wasn't advertised in this tiny town. It was word of mouth. It required Жанна and her language skills. Her nerves were already frazzled.

She did an excellent job! We got a bedroom in a house. Again, there was a courtyard and outside facilities. The entrance/exit was through the kitchen.

I don't know how the cows know it's time to come home. Unlike me, cows like to travel in packs. But, they each have a different home address in Коблево. So, they need to be cut, sorted and driven when they arrive. Коблево doesn't use saddle horse cowboys for this. The town matrons do it as a group. I even saw one out in the field on a bicycle using a cell phone. (Sorry, no picture of that.)

Коблево was a delightful rest along the way...

Stay in Зализный Порт

Of course, my first order of business in Зализный Порт was to find trouble. Or, shall we say, allow trouble to find me? (there is a blues song about this)

My very affectionate name for where I live is: "Buzzardbreath" and I have even done an overnight in Shoshoni, Wyoming. I didn't mind the little cow town we just came from. But, I had business back in Wyoming and there was only so long I could go without Internet. Therefore, in pursuit of an Internet cafe, I found her.

Her English was quite good, she knew where there was Internet access, she was blond, blue and in a bikini. We hopped on my bike and took a little ride. She helped me negotiate some computer time and find a browser in Russian, etc.

Upon our return and a few photos later, I was parking my bike in the courtyard when I heard a "Voice From Above." "Ron! Come here! Now!!" That was Жанна hanging off the balcony. I had some explaining to do.

Зализный Порт is a pretty good party town, day and night. It wasn't long before we found our favorite food and watering holes. We also had a bunch of new friends and drinking partners. I didn't mind that they were all women.

I bought the girls roses. I think the young boys hawking them picked them right outside the door of the cafe.

We were there for about four days. We had a wonderful time. This place has all the trappings of Spring Break.

I got my laundry done. Жанна found a salon next to the cafe. She had her nails and hair done. Then, we departed for Крым.... (Crimea)

Зализный Порт, Arrival

Visiting Зализный Порт was one of the few things that were planned on that first ride. However, in accordance with my life philosophy, the anarchy of chance had allot to do with it. Murphy's Law works both ways in my opinion.

In New York City, Киев and other large cities there are people on the sidewalks handing out fliers. I perceive that a lousy job. I feel sorry for those afflicted by the current economic recession. I often grab one as I walk by and stuff it in my back pocket.

During my first few weeks in Киев I was on my own exploring the downtown area. Such a scrap of paper might be used for a girl's phone number. Most likely it would be forgotten until time to launder my jeans.

Жанна and I were sharing a flat before my motorcycle arrived. She did the laundry and discovered the one about Зализный Порт. Of course, there were questions about what I scribbled.

Playing dumb, I explained I can read no Russian nor Ukrainian and I took that flier before we met. I asked her to translate. She did. It sounded good. We decided to go there on my motorcycle from its port of arrival.

En route to Херсон from Николаев we encountered rain. We pulled in to tank up and try to keep things dry. We met a some guys in a car pulling a little trailer. We discovered they were also headed for Зализный Порт. So, we followed. It became dry and sunny South of Херсон.

We split off on our own somewhere North of Зализный Порт. We didn't follow the directions of the flier. Жанна became frustrated while negotiating with the privateer lodging hawkers beside the road. We continued on until the road ended at the beach.

We thought we may as well inquire at the resort, right there. The rate was comparable and we were there! We took it. It was up on the third floor balcony and slightly larger than the bed, but it had a bathroom with toilet and shower.

I parked my motorcycle in the courtyard below.

Армянск

The main distinction of Армянск is that it lies on the narrow neck of land connecting the Crimean peninsula with the mainland. It is Armenian and Greek, historically. One does not absolutely need to go through Армянск to travel to/from Крым (Crimea) but from our origin it made sense that day.

We were coming from Зализный Порт which was fabulous! We could have backtracked toward Херсон and followed the major highway the rest of the way. But, I took a more direct route down some rough back roads through small villages. This gave us plenty of opportunity to get lost and for Жанна to ask directions in Russian. Also, for confusion and emotional tirades.

All in all it wasn't that bad. We hadn't ridden for a few days in Зализный Порт and Жанна was armed with a fresh set of nails and a new do. There are no important cities after Армянск until Евпатория. It was time to stop.

The гостиница we found was very reasonable and it was early enough to go shopping, which we did.

Форель

We Skype. It's a great alternative to international telephone. Any other form of "video chat" would do. It's not the same as telephone. Both parties must have high speed ISP, web cam and a microphone.

She told me the Russian word for "trout" was форель.

I said: "What we call a fish, by any other name would smell as sweet."

(blank stare)

I asked: "You ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?"

"Да." She answered.

"Well, that's a line from Ronny and Жанна," I explained.

(blank stare)

"Never mind, honey. Nobody else understands my humor, either," I said.

I told her I would save the caviar from the Wyoming cutthroat I just ate. Nobody around here eats it. But, caviar is a Russian delicacy and Жанна loves it.

She told me it will rot if not properly preserved. I told her I don't know how. She said she would send a recipe. But, she hasn't done that yet. I guess I'll just toss it back into the river.

Maybe a male will find it and fertilize it.

Виноград (Grape)

In the low mountain valleys of Ukraine there are vineyards. Too bad I'm not a connoisseur of вино. (wine)

For me, it's gotta be пиво. (beer) Ukraine will not disappoint the beer lover in the least. But, I am certain a person could enjoy a road trip to the various wineries for a wine tasting tour.

What I love about the entire South coastal area of Ukraine, along the Черное Море, (Black Sea) are the courtyards of all the places we found lodging. Urban or rural, they all had grape arbors or else grape vines seemingly growing wild.

We weren't looking for гостиници. (hotels) These were certainly no Mediterranean Chateaux. But, they had a cozy Mediterranean feel to them. I enjoy being able to park my motorcycle in a courtyard near my door and the freedom to come and go, leisurely.