European Russia
I was going up quite a steep incline in light rain. Finland,
which had been signposted, was steadily getting closer. I felt
happy and sad at the same time. Should I call it a day and
turn back? My time there and the distances covered in Russia
had been considerable. I had accumulated many memories
and warmed to Russia. If it weren’t for Ireland, I would
dearly have loved to spend more time travelling around the
country. I so wanted to meet more Russians There would be
no more cafes from here on. No more old boys in cafes. No
more pelmeni, no more borscht, and no more hypershashlik.
I could no longer eat tasty morozhenoe for my
snack break. No more listening to Russian techno. Atkuda.
Priama, Priama. Schastlivo! Davai! Davai! I would no longer
hear these exhortations either.
Mad Lada drivers would no longer fly past me and there
would be no more wide open plains, fiery vodka and
infinitely kind and homely Russians . . .
The next moment the border post sucked us in.
Spasiva, Bolshoi, Russia! Until we meet again, do svidaniya!
I heard a voice somewhere say ‘Pozhaluista’ (‘Don’t
mention it’).
(from "Against the Wind" - Poolbeg Press)
