When night fell, we rented a small apartment along the road for, I think, 20€ each with kitchen, living room, balcony, everything. This was our nice view of the sunset.
The next day, we had only a few miles of Poland left, the road growing smaller and smaller.
Kaunas, the second-largest city of Lithuania.
While we were filling up, this old tractor stopped at the next pump. During the 10 minute pit-stop the engine was roaring loud as ever. By the time we left, there was a small puddle of oil at the bottom… :confused1:
We haven’t seen any camp sites since we left Germany and decided to take the turn-off, when we saw the signpost. Campsites are always great for meeting people and maybe there is even some infrastructure.
We arrived at a farmhouse that had huge grassland for camping. There were no other guests, though the lady was very nice. I think she was pleased and amused to have us as guests and invited us for a coffee.
It even had a small pond for a short wake-up dip in the morning.
After a small meal of pasta and tomato sauce it was night-time.
While we were packing our stuff in the morning, the neighbors turned up and took us for a short ride. They were ethnic Russians living in Lithuania and had just finished building some huts to take guests and wanted to show us around.
Before we could enter the premises, they had to tether their huge and furious dog.
It took some persuasion for them to let us go. Even though the huts were nice we really had no intentions of staying.
Soon, we reached Latvia, another country we’d only see from the main roads, unfortunately.
Lesson learned: a white front is arduous to keep clean with all the freaking mosquitoes.
We stopped at a bus stop in a small town for dinner when it started to rain. After a while, we were surrounded by a few inquiring locals. One of the guys was intrigued when he learned that we were riding to Murmansk. He was stationed there some 30 years ago and suggested us to check out Severomorsk, just north of Murmansk.
Since Russia’s Northern Fleet is stationed there it’s a closed town, only open for locals living and working there. He was insistent that it’s possible to go there. It is not, though.
He was a little drunk and got all pushy. And how much does he know about the current status when he’s still calling everything the Soviet Union and referring to St. Petersburg as Leningrad?
When the sky cleared up, we packed up and left. Soon after, we found ourselves on a nice gravel highway. We opened up the throttle and sped over the nice and wide gravel road, sometimes reaching 120km/h (or 75mp/h). Closely followed by a local in his pickup truck, probably being limited by our slow riding.
We took another short side trip through the woods to have some fun.
When coming around a corner I saw Andi lifting his bike out of a ditch – as he said he changed into the wrong gear and missed the turn. :lol3
Estonia. Again, we didn’t really see a lot besides the main roads. Though what struck us was how different Estonia is from Lithuania and Latvia. While the latter seem very Eastern European, with bumpy roads, shabby cars and decaying buildings, Estonia was different. It felt more like Finland. Smooth roads, clean small towns and modern bars and restaurants along the road.
In the evening we reached Narva at the Estonian-Russian border and rented a small hut at a local campsite. The Russian border was to be crossed next day in the morning.
This is our route so far:
For the Estonian side, there is an online queuing in place, where you have to register in advance (or at the border waiting area) and pay a 1€ for processing it (credit cards only).
https://www.estonianborder.eu/
For all vehicles, there are queues in place, sometimes with waiting times of a couple of days if you didn't reserve in time. But since this is Eastern Europe, motorcycles as always get preferential treatment. That means you can take any spot you like – no queue.

You just pick a time and show up at the border waiting area. NOT the border, as we did!
You first have to show up at the border waiting area (left), where you will register and have to wait for your slot. On motorbikes it’s only a formality. We went there, got some stamps and then could ride to the border. We talked to some German guys in RVs, who told us they waited for over 16 hours now. They did only reserve a place in the queue once they arrived here.
Approaching the Russian border I felt the same tremble and butterflies in the stomach as I did two years earlier. But this time, not out of a little anxiety and fear of the unknown. This time, with some knowledge of the Russian language on board and the right bike to experience every road we wanted to, we were excited for what’s to come.
The last few days have only been about making distance, getting into travel mode. Now – it counts.