Day 23: Friday 4th September

We have a long run in front of us today so it’s a very early start at 6am, after a good night’s sleep. We get on our way at around 7am, dumping grey water into the ditch along the side of the road – it smelled bad and we felt ashamed of ourselves as many folk from the village passed this way to the bus stop and they had done us no harm. Trouble was that there was a stretch of bad road ahead of us and I wanted to get rid of the weight before we got on to it. On the main roads in this region there are few chances for pulling off into woods or sheltered areas to dump stuff.

In fact, despite the rough roads we make good progress as I’ve become blasé about the bumps and now try to skim over them at 90-100 kph. I have a distinct fear that the cupboard units will part company with the sides but the rocking is worse at low speeds so the skimming tactic seems the better approach.

When stopping for lunch we find a nice quiet little pull-in, up a track under some trees. On exploring the area I find it is being used to dump sheep carcasses from a local abattoir. Skulls and ribs protrude from the mass of rotting wool and bodily remains. The smell brings back that of the glue we used to use in school woodwork lessons back in the late 1950s. And we’re worrying about the pong of a bit of grey water!

Insane driving continues on the single-track stretches with 4x4s undertaking on the hard shoulder. Overtakers on the correct side will just force their way back in when traffic appears from the other direction. One of our overtakers is a truck with trailer for which I have to brake hard to create the space for him to come back in. He gets a blast on the horn in return. A few kilometres down the road and we see one result of this driving – an RTA with a mangled Lada and a chap laid out on the verge covered in blood and looking pretty lifeless. We feel certain he is dead as none of those who have stopped to help are paying him any attention.

In one 25km stretch we came across three groups of men, all of Asian appearance, trying to pull scams. I’m not sure how this works but we had been warned about this type of tactic before we left. Each group had one man with a map or bunch of papers in his hand who would try to flag down passing motorists apparently for assistance. But once you’ve stopped the scam goes into operation. 99% of drivers go straight by but, amazingly, we did see one or two Russians slowing down to help. It could be that victims are persuaded to part with cash, or exchange currency for forged notes, or to buy fake goods of some description. At worst a driver might be persuaded to leave his car (with the keys in the ignition) and another member of the gang jumps in and drives off. Those left behind would swear the thief had nothing to do with them. The thing is that the roads are so crammed with few opportunities for overtaking that once a vehicle has been stolen and driven off it would be very hard for anyone else to catch up with it – even the police.

We make it into Volgograd at around 5.30pm, seeing another ‘amber gambler’ RTA as we enter the city. We decide to seek out the war memorial first to locate ourselves and then look for somewhere to stay over. After a couple of wrong turns we stop to ask a DPS guy at a roundabout. He is very helpful, gives us the directions and then stops the traffic to let us turn back across the roundabout for the right exit. We see the statue in the distance and almost at the same time start seeing signs to Hotel Tourist, which we know is close to the Mamaev Kurgan site! We find it and ask at reception about stopping over in the car park. The receptionist makes a phone call and then the grounds manager, Igor, arrives and explains the form – ‘no problem’, he says, ‘just pay me R150 per night, straight to me, not through reception’. Great stuff, so we park up and then go for a wander to find a restaurant just below the monument. Good menu, all in Russian(!), but by this time we have learned what the Russian is for shashlik – pork and lamb with fries and salad. Only £20 or so, with the beers.

The buildings in front of the hotel are student halls by the look of them and a ‘produkty’ beneath provides a source of milk. When we get back we find there are lads showing off in the car park so move the van closer to the hotel but the noise stops around 11pm as we turn in for the night. We are woken early, though, at 3.30am when three men outside have a loud conversation before their morning shift, and probably without realising we were sleeping a few feet away. Earplugs back in for another couple of hours’ sleep.

When moving the van I discovered a broken headlamp bulb, I guess because of having them on all the time and the bumpy roads. Changing headlamp bulbs on this model of Hymer is a nightmare so it is left till after we have done the touristy activities the next day.

One of our ‘low-fat’ milks turns out to be soured milk.