Krasnoyarsk and helpers sent from heaven again

Although we had an exciting and exhausting day yesterday, I can hardly sleep in the windowless monastery cellar. Nightmares plague me and I keep waking up in a cold sweat. I feel exhausted in the morning. Tired, I lie on the board that is my mattress, switch on the room lights and stare up at the dirty cellar ceiling. Tanja’s bedstead is in a tiny adjoining room. She still seems to be asleep because darkness yawns at me from the open door. I let my gaze wander over the orthodox images of saints hanging all over the walls. Then my eyes follow the sewage pipes running right next to me. A nun also seems to have been disturbed by its ugliness, as evidenced by the gold embroidered fabric wrapped around it. At almost regular intervals there is a loud noise. As the monastery toilets are directly above us, I know why the old toilets are so busy at this early hour of the morning.

I am thinking of the Marta si Maria monastery in Moldova, where we felt so at home that even after a month’s stay it was difficult for us to leave this highly spiritual, harmonious place with its wonderful people. We also felt at home in the Iwerekiie monastery in Samara after a short time, as the nuns quickly accepted us as guests and took us to their hearts. And now we’re lying here in a filthy cellar next to sewage pipes in complete disarray. But what did I expect? Every monastery is different and not everywhere has the money to build decent and beautiful accommodation for guests. Apart from that, we arrived at the holy place in the middle of the night and still got a bed to sleep in. This cellar with its four small rooms, which is also a storage area for picture frames, is probably the only guest wing of the monastery.

Despite my insight and understanding of our situation, I am instantly overcome by a melancholy mood. “Is it because there’s no daylight down here? The dirt? The overexertion of the last few days? At the abrupt end of our stage? The looming fear of having to leave this world in order to re-enter the world of my home country? Am I afraid of the so-called world leap, which is always associated with great effort? I don’t know. My thoughts are starting to roll over again, to start my own business. So as not to give them too much power over me, I get up, open the door to an adjoining room, squeeze past picture frames and an old, iron bedstead, on which our dirty trailer is now lying, to reach the sink in the far corner of the cellar.

A few hands of cold water on the face dispel the emerging melancholy. As I wind my way back through the many picture frames into my bedroom, Tanja comes out of the tiny basement room. “Did you sleep so badly too?” she asks tiredly. “Yes,” I answer cheerlessly. “I think we should pack our things as quickly as possible, leave this dreary cellar and organize our journey home,” she says. ‘Yes, we should,’ I reply, still quite distracted.

After fortifying ourselves with a travel lunch, we get down to work. I wash the totally dirty Ortlieb saddlebags in the storage room sink, clean our Zargesbox, the used trailers and bicycles from the clay and mud, while Tanja takes care of the logistics. This means she writes down in detail which cable, which shirt, spare parts and tools are staying here and what we need to bring with us from Germany after the winter break to continue our journey through Siberia and Mongolia. We are engrossed in our work when the cell phone rings. It’s Katya, Jenya’s girlfriend. “My church choir has organized a city tour. We want to visit the most beautiful churches in Krasnoyarsk. If you feel like it, you can come along. It costs you nothing,” the nice woman invites us. Although I’m not really in the mood to visit churches right now, my gut whispers to me to accept this invitation.

It’s strange where a traveler ends up again and again. Only a short time later, we are sitting in a large bus with devout Orthodox people and being driven through the metropolis of Siberia. The weather is bad as usual. Only occasionally does the sun peek through the thick clouds. The bus takes us over hills and through valleys. “I didn’t know Krasnoyarsk was surrounded by mountains,” says Tanja, looking out of the window. “Me neither. Although, as far as I remember, the Sayan Mountains are not far from here and the Central Siberian Mountains must also have their foothills here.”

Krasnoyarsk has a lot to offer

Katya is a young, pretty and very intelligent woman who speaks perfect English and German and takes great pains to tell us about Krasnoyarsk’s past. “Our city was founded in 1628 as a Cossack fortress. It is therefore one of the oldest cities in Siberia and today one of the largest industrial centers in the region,” Katya explains to us on the way from one church to another. “Why has this city developed into an industrial center? Isn’t it far away from Moscow and Europe?” I ask. “That is one of the reasons. After the discovery of nearby gold deposits and the construction of the Trans-Siberian Railway, the city grew rapidly in the 19th century. Then, during the Second World War, parts of the armaments industry were relocated here. Production here was safe from the Nazis. As a military base, the city was even closed to foreigners until a few years ago. You needed a special permit to visit. Today, however, this is a thing of the past and you can move around freely. Almost 1 million inhabitants now live here. As you probably know, our Krasnoyarsk has a reputation for having been a place of exile for many political prisoners. Thank goodness that is also history and has nothing to do with our city today.” “With your knowledge, you should be a tour guide,” I praise. “Through my job as an interpreter, I have looked after many foreign guests. You learn a thing or two about your city.” “Do you enjoy interpreting?” “I used to enjoy it. However, despite earning very good money, I only recently stopped doing it.” “Why?” “I want to do something useful. Do you understand? I want to help people with my work and not just be a mouthpiece for a superior. That’s why I stopped and am now learning to be a nurse. There’s nothing better for me than being able to help other people. When someone in need looks at me with gratitude, it’s the greatest reward I could wish for. It really makes me feel needed. Look! Over there is the fourth largest bridge on the Trans-Siberian Railway,” she continues her tour of the city. “It is 934 meters long and crosses the Yenisei, the river with the most water in Russia. There is a lot for tourists to see. For example, as travelers, you might be interested in the historical and ethnographic museum. But we can take a look at that when you’re back here after your winter break. You’ll need a few days. I would like to show you the Shushenskoye open-air museum to the south of here. It was Lenin’s place of exile from 1897 to 1900. We have so much to see. Did you know that not so long ago, the remains of a 12,000-year-old mammoth were found near the town? Until now, they had only been found in the north of Russia. I really like our national park “Stolby”, which was founded in 1925 not far from here. It is a climbing and hiking area. Stolby means “pillars” and comes from the reddish granite rocks up to 100 m high, which give the mountain taiga an additional, unique charm. You should definitely check it out,” enthuses Katya and goes on to tell us about a former secret hydroelectric power plant, shielded from the outside world, which is said to be the largest underground industrial complex in the world. “The trip to the Krasnoyarsk reservoir on the Yenisei is a popular destination for Krasnoyarsk locals and you would definitely enjoy it. However, it’s only fun when the weather is nice. It’s too cold now. Jenya and I are glad that you have a flat tire. There would be no point in continuing in this bad weather. We had a very bad summer with maximum temperatures of 25 degrees. Many people are talking about it snowing soon. I don’t know if you know what that means. In the transition period between fall and winter it often happens that heavy rain freezes from one second to the next. In German, I think it’s called Blitzeis. Right?” “Right,” I reply, thinking of the resulting danger. “You’ve seen how many crosses there are on the road. Many of these people also have accidents in winter. Their cars and tires are not equipped for black ice. Apart from that, it’s often impossible to get through when the snow starts to fall. It’s unthinkable if you’re traveling in the Central Siberian mountains at this time of year. It’s a miracle that the breakdown happened just in time. So I think you are people protected by God,” she says as the bus stops at the town’s landmark, the chapel of Paraskewa-Pjatniza.

We leave the bus in drizzle and around 2 degrees to visit the chapel. As it stands on a hill, we have a fantastic view over the city and the mighty Yenisey. After two hours of visiting churches and cemeteries, we leave the group and, with the help of Katya and Jenya, set off to buy a plane ticket for ourselves.

“What? You want to take bicycles with you. That’s not possible,” says the woman in the ticket office. “But this isn’t the first time we’ve done this. As far as we know, all airlines take bikes. At Lufthansa, they are considered sports equipment and cost no more than 30 euros per bike. At least that was the case when we flew from Samara to Germany and back last year,” I explain. “I am sorry. Lufthansa doesn’t fly from Krasnoyarsk. You can only travel here with Siberia Airline or Aeroflot,” the helpful woman shocks us. “But what are we going to do with our bikes? We absolutely have to take them with us,” I say to Katya, who in turn translates everything. The ticket seller pulls out all the stops. She calls her superiors, is turned away and tries again elsewhere. “Bicycles have never been flown out from here since Siberia Airlines was founded. You can take anything with you, surfboards, golf and diving equipment, but bicycles? That seems difficult,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “That’s Russia,” says Jenya, shrugging her shoulders. After 2 ½ hours we are successful and are issued two tickets. “You are allowed to take your bikes with you. However, they count as excess baggage and not as sports equipment. This means you have to pay an extra 5 euros per kilogram. Unfortunately, I can only book your bikes as far as Moscow. There they have to pick them up again and pay the fee again,” she explains. “Wow, that’s expensive,” I complain. “I’m sorry, there’s no other way.” “Are you sure we won’t have any problems at the airport check-in desk? Who knows if our bikes won’t be rejected?” Tanja wants to know. “I spoke to a man called Alexei. He knows they’re coming,” the saleswoman reassures us. “I will accompany you. If necessary, I can translate and help you. Maybe my father has time too. He has a station wagon and can take you and your bikes to the airport,” Katya suggests. Again, it’s hard to believe. Once again we are helped completely unexpectedly at the right time and once again I have the feeling that Katya is a heaven-sent helper. “We can’t accept that. You have to go to school,” says Tanja. “I’ll make it in time and if I don’t, it’s not so bad,” she says with conviction.

On the way back to the monastery, Jenya’s cell phone rings. “Not very good news,” he says as he ends the conversation. “Why not?” I ask, dog-tired from lack of sleep, the sightseeing tour and the excitement of the plane ticket. “The headmistress of the monastery called and said she’s getting craftsmen tomorrow. So you’ll have to leave the monastery.” “Okay, then we’ll move into a gastiniza. Would you help us drive our equipment there?” I ask. “No problem,” he replies.

When we arrive at the convent 30 minutes later, we meet the matron. We ask again when we should leave the cellar. Suddenly the situation changes again and we are allowed to stay until our departure. We can also store our trailers and equipment in the cellar until next year. Although we don’t understand the back and forth, we don’t ask and give the matron a donation for her convent. “It’s better this way. If we don’t have to move, we save a lot of work and time,” says Tanja.