Problems with Russian rabies vaccination

Day: 11


Country:
Norway

Location:
Parking lot

Daily kilometers:
358 km

Total kilometers:
2496 km

As the crow flies:
284

Aver. Speed
58 kmh

Travel time:
8 hrs.

Soil condition:
Asphalt

Maximum height:
200 m

Sunrise:
03:27 pm

Sunset:
11:12 pm

Temperature day max:
24°

Temperature day min:
14°

Night temperature:
09°

Departure:
11:30 a.m.

Arrival time:
7:45 p.m.

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).

LINK TO THE ITINERARY

In the morning, a light drizzle wets the mountainous landscape. Low cloud formations stretch through the valleys. Mountains stretch their backs through the ghostly, floating formations. Even though I prefer sun and warmth, this view is impressive and downright beautiful. “Here’s to another eventful day,” says Tanja, getting out of bed to go jogging with Ajaci. I use the time to keep fit with my daily yogym, a mixture of yoga and gymnastics. “What do you think of a fruit breakfast?” asks Tanja, full of zest for action, when she has completed her round at the foot of the mountains and re-enters our mobile home. “A great idea,” I reply and am delighted at the luxury of always being able to dine better than in most restaurants in the world, no matter where we are. “It’s great to be standing here in the middle of a parking lot, looking out over the cloudy mountains and having a fruit breakfast prepared by your lovely wife,” I say, turn the heating up a little, sit down at the table and open my smartphone to see if anyone has sent us an e-mail. “I don’t believe it,” I shudder as I read Kostya’s message. “What is it?” asks Tanja, looking at me with concern. “He writes that the Russians require a rabies vaccination, which must be at least one month old on entry and valid for no longer than one year.” “What? Can’t be? Ajaci’s rabies vaccination was 14 months ago, but it’s valid for three years. So he has the right vaccination,” Tanja is startled. “Apparently Russian law is different,” I reply and feel my emotional high plummet. “In the worst case scenario, that would mean that the Russians wouldn’t let us in,” I say, my thoughts out loud. “I don’t think so. Ajaci has a valid rabies vaccination. The mouse won’t bite off a thread. I did a lot of research into the vaccination regulations before we left. Kostya must be mistaken or this regulation doesn’t apply to us,” Tanja is sure, but she can feel the nervousness rising in her voice. “If the Russians don’t let us in and send us back at the border, what about the Norwegians? Does this rule also apply here? They didn’t check us when we entered the country,” I ask. “And if that’s the case, we won’t be allowed back into Norway once we’ve left the country. We would then find ourselves in so-called no man’s land,” I let my thoughts continue to bubble away. “Oh God, that would be terrible. The Norwegians are super strict with dog vaccination certificates,” says Tanja, fueling my nervousness.

In a true horror story, we had heard of a nasty case. According to this story, the travelers were sent back to Norway by the Russians because of a faulty dog vaccination certificate. Because then, when re-entering Norway, the special tapeworm vaccination required by Norway, which must be administered to the dog at the earliest 120 to at the latest 24 hours before entry, had expired, the family was no longer allowed to enter the country with their dog. So they were literally caught between the two countries. To prevent the Norwegian authorities from putting the dog to sleep, the dog’s owners allegedly had to have their pet flown out by helicopter. This is outrageous nonsense, but the law is the law. Bullshit here, bullshit there.

“What do we do now?” I ask. “I don’t know, I’d better call Kostya right away. Maybe it’s not as bad as we think,” says Tanja and dials his number. Kostya, the owner of Abenteuer Osten, with whom we want to meet at the Norwegian-Russian border at the end of the month to undertake the long-planned pioneer tour in the Arctic Circle, is also currently traveling in Norway with his new bimobile. “I’m really sorry, but it looks like these are the current regulations. The Russian authorities are always changing their regulations. Sometimes at very short notice. They’re no better than the Europeans. Ultimately, it’s a political thing. As you know, the Europeans and Russians don’t see eye to eye at the moment and are annoying each other with such simple-minded laws. But if we’re lucky, nobody at the border will care and we’ll still be able to enter the country,” we hear, but the statement doesn’t make us any more confident.

“And do you have any ideas?” asks Tanja after a few minutes of silence. “We could go to the vet in Trondheim and ask him to give Ajaci a new injection,” I think. “We want to enter Russia in two weeks. But the regulation says that the vaccination must be at least one month old. So that makes no sense. We also mentioned that this stupid rabies regulation might also apply in Norway. What if we wake sleeping dogs by visiting the vet and he makes trouble for us?” “Hm, there’s something to that, but fear has always been a bad advisor,” I reply. “Besides, I don’t think the regulations in Norway are the same as in Russia,” I add. “Let’s set off first and think about what steps make sense and not go overboard,” Tanja suggests. “Okay,” I reply, rolling the Terra out of the parking lot.

As in previous days, we cruise through a beautiful landscape that can hardly be described. Although we are enjoying the trip to the full, the subject of vaccinations is still on our minds. Meanwhile, Tanja has reached the owners of bimobil, Sabine and Stefan. As they are also taking part in the Pola Circle expedition and are taking their two dogs with them, we inform them about our new findings on the vaccination situation. “Yes, we’ve heard about that. Our dogs’ rabies vaccinations are also more than a year old. But as our Czech wolfhounds are not allowed to enter Norway, we travel to Russia via Finland. The Finns don’t care about that kind of crap. They seem to be a bit more relaxed. We believe that the Russians don’t care about the rabies vaccination. You can check the rabies titer (antibody detection) in the dogs’ blood. I’m sure it’s fine,” we hear and are a little more reassured.

“There are several vets in Trondheim,” says Tanja a little later, closing her smartphone. “So off to the vet in Trondheim. Let’s see what he says. I’m sure he knows the borderline situation and can certainly help us,” I say.

Hours later, we cross the River Nideva into the university city of Trondheim, which is Norway’s third-largest metropolis with a population of just under 200,000 and, like many parts of the country, was occupied by German troops from 1940 to 1945.
Trondheim was founded in 997 by King Olav I Tryggvason and was the seat of the king and capital of Norway in the Middle Ages. With its airport, rail links to Oslo and Sweden and its port, Trondheim is now an important transportation hub for the entire northern part of the country. Here too, as in the town of Bergen, terrible fires raged. In a terrible fire in 1681, the entire city center succumbed to the hungry flames. This was the reason why the king of the time had the city rebuilt according to the continental model. Two wide main streets were created, which led to the market square and intersected there. All other paths were laid out in a checkerboard pattern.

“I’ll wait here and keep my fingers crossed,” I say as we park in front of the veterinary clinic and Tanja and Ajaci leave the mobile. A quarter of an hour later, Tanja returns with a smile on her face. “So, the European rabies regulations apply here as well. That’s a very good thing. However, the Russians actually seem to see it differently. Kostya was right. If we’re unlucky, the Russians won’t let us cross the border with Ajaci’s current vaccination certificate. But if not, we can always go back to Norway and try again at another border,” she says confidently…