Lost in Transnistrien oder das Land welches es gar nicht gibt
Lost in Transnistrien oder das Land welches es gar nicht gibt
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Stage 3 Jump jump to Czernowitz

Publicatu: 13.06.2019

Today woke up from the sweaty bed, showered, drank half a bottle of water, and jumped into the even sweatier clothes and off we go. Unfortunately, no breakfast or coffee. Forgot to take a starting picture and almost lost the tank bag. Scratched the bike and made a small crack in the fairing from the vibration. Other than that, everything went smoothly.

Quickly filled the Guzzste with 'Mustang', that's what they call premium fuel here, and then got lost. I was actually headed to Ivano Frankivst and must have taken a wrong turn, so I ended up in Ternopil. Until then, I thought it was a good choice, great asphalt and hardly any traffic. But then...

The quasi bypass was already full of sinkhole-sized potholes. And it was going to continue like this for the next 101km, or more. That meant working today. Despite everything, I wanted to keep moving forward, so I tried to handle it with speeds of around 90-110km/h and lots of evasive maneuvers. It mostly worked, except for three bumps in the suspension. Then I had to turn the rear shock absorber 3 notches harder and off I went. It's crazy, I still got overtaken every now and then. To top it all off, something stung me in the face because I usually ride with my visor open for better visibility. I kept on riding, hoping it wasn't a wasp 🐝. I would have noticed in 15 minutes at the latest, and there would have been enough time to stop and pass out ☠️.

Well, today the 300km went by quickly, and I arrived in Czernowitz at 2 o'clock. Nice room, huge bed, garden, and breakfast tomorrow. 😋

Yesterday the capital of Galicia, today the capital of Bukovina, Czernowitz, also known as the city of dead poets, was apparently even more of a melting pot of cultures than Lviv. Many nationalities used to live here side by side, which can be seen especially in the many churches of various denominations. The architectural style is again grandiose from the turn of the century, very little Soviet, just like Lviv, but smaller. A short walk and central market, and then it's time to eat.

After a day without food, I had to replenish myself. Borscht and fried strips of beef with grilled vegetables in polenta on top of sheep cheese shavings. It's noticeable that my right hand has no feeling and no strength. Holding a fork is difficult, but I can still handle a beer. 🍺

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