Day 27: Tuesday 8th September

I (HP) had woken early again but this time because of very strong gusts of wind buffeting the van – even in our sheltered spot surrounded by trees. But the sun is shining again! No farmer to turn us off this waste land – and Russia is so big it seems you can always find somewhere that nobody is too bothered about.

We decide to go first into Novorossiysk to research the ferry shown on the Euro Map as plying its trade between Novorossiysk and Kerch in Crimea. After a bit of random cruising around the city we have found no signs to a port or ‘radom’ but spot the sea and head downhill towards it – and in a couple of minutes we’re at the port. It’s a huge place but again, no signs for ferries. We park up and wander down to the dock where we find some police parked up close to a grey Russian navy cruiser with bunting flying. I enquire of them about a ferry to Kerch and he says ‘nyet’ – not for years apparently. He mentions Anapa but we’ve already been there and seen no sign of anything.

We decide that logistically, bearing in mind distances and roads, we’d be as well off going down the coast towards Sochi as trying to finalise the ferry question. We can return after a few days and check out Kavkaz and if that is a blank we will still have time to take a land route into Ukraine from the north. The road south-east out of Novorossiysk rises dramatically above the port so I am able to look back and confirm with binoculars that there are no ferries of any description going in or out of the port – huge though it is. There are plenty of freighters though.

Our first detour in search of a small, Greek island style beach is to Kabardinke. There’s a sort of campsite there, with cabins and what appears to be hard standing for motorhomes. No obvious way down to the beach, though, and it isn’t particularly appealing.

Gelendzic is the next one along – a similar size to Anapa but much quieter and less developed. The 2006 Lonely Planet guide says: ‘The beach is pebbly but the calm sea is clear and inviting.’ There’s a campsite marked on the map but (again) we don’t see any sign of it. (Gelendzic is a sizeable town, surely bigger than the 50,000 population quoted by the book.)

Next we take a right turn to Devnomorskoe just after the Gelendzic boundary and this eventually proves to be third time lucky. A few kilometres along we turn off right, following a sign to the ‘Golubaya Besdna’ campsite, but soon turn back as the road becomes more and more winding and difficult – probably OK for a 4x4 but definitely not for us – and we could see it was going to be a hell of a long way down to the sea. Then the village of Devnomorskoe which is small but heaving (whatever are these places like in the height of summer?). Finally on to Moorbaza which with its laid-back and undeveloped air could be in Greece (apart from the pebbly beach – since Anapa has the only substantial sandy beach on the Russian Black Sea coast no wonder it’s so over-popular).

The road goes down to a dead-end at the curved bay of the beach – pebbly, with a small pier and a few restaurants dotted around a public square. We are able to park quite close to it just on the side of the road – which becomes our spot for the night! The place is being used by about two hundred Russians and is very relaxed and informal – though there are lifeguards on duty. The sea is calm and clear.

We walk back up the road to a taverna-type restaurant under the trees and have shashlik, fries and salad again, washed down by Russian beer. This, by the way, is as good as any you’ll find in Europe, unlike their wine. Then we get togged up for the beach and settle on the pebbles for a couple of hours’ sunbathing, snoozing and reading – and of course, our first swim in the Black Sea – it’s cool and clear if a bit tricky to negotiate the large stones at the water’s edge. The locals make suggestions as we slip and trip our way in – go down on all fours and get swimming as early as possible is the message. That was really enjoyable and again very Greece-like. Folk on the beach are a real mixture of Russian families and couples. Only one is properly obese, the rest just a bit podgy. But I must revise earlier comments about clothes in Russia. In Pete people’s clothes, apart from the fashionistas on Nevsky Prospekt, seemed dated and worn. Generally, though, you’ll see the same sort of cross-section of old and new, fashionable and dated, cheap and pricey, as in Leicester. The majority of women take great care and girls are straight out of fashion mags. Here at the seaside the styles are casual, as you’d expect, and even the sarong and straw hat solutions are very much present just as in Spain and Greece.

By late evening the road down to the beach has emptied of cars and so our fears of late revellers subsides.