Post 106: Usserijsk Bike Rally

I was drinking beer and learning new and interesting Russian phrases with unknown friends when I was suddenly accosted by ‘The Architect’, vice-president of the Vladivostok Iron Tigers. He took me towards and then onto the stage as the music stopped and the huge crowd for a brief moment became silent. The MC was talking loudly and people listened intently, …. I understood none of it.

At the centre of the stage, …. I looked out at the gathered mass, .. all now cheering and saluting the ‘Crazy Anglian’. ‘The Architect’ put his head to my ear and translated what the MC was saying. As I left the stage the crowd was still chanting my name, .. I was mobbed, … I was everybody’s latest best friend. I was plied with drink and food, I was interviewed by Russian television, I posed for photographs with hairy arsed bikers and beautiful young ladies, my back was sore and my ribs bruised from slaps and giant bear hugs, …. for somebody slightly more used to anonymity it was all quite difficult to take in.

Apparently it’s not every day that a biker clock’s up 1,000,000 road miles, … and the people here were proud that I’d done it whilst in Eastern Russia, ….. but not half as proud as I was.

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