>>1986104>And? Leaving us on these cliff hangers makes me think you're embellishing your story. I already told everything there is to the story in a previous post. Get in my sleeping bag at around 9pm in a cozy cornfield, car arrives at half past 1am, military dudes get out pointing rifles at me, one of them calls the police which arrive shortly after, passport check (Russian visa, not good), I can get in their car to warm up, interrogation (what are you doing here, why were you in Russia five years ago, are you retarded, what do you do for a living etc.), pannier search, thorough phone and photos check for any possible connection to Russia, photos taken of me and the bicycle. They let me off the hook at around half past 3am, telling me that I can't just sleep in an open field because of the curfew at night and that I'd be an easy target for shaheds.
>Also, most people who travel through a war torn country try to get something out of it, a book, film or some charity fundraiser. There's nothing I'm doing here that is worth exploiting for social media fame. It would probably work, but it would also be endlessly cringe. Anyone could do it really. The reality is I'm mostly just cycling on mostly shitty roads in mostly gray environments. The war is very, very present everywhere but it's not like I'm constantly shahed-dodging or riding through minefields.
Again, there are real risks involved in traveling here, particularly on a bicycle, but they are relatively insignificant in the grand schemes of things. You might as well die in a traffic accident or hit a pothole so deep it leads straight to hell on these roads. Getting hit by a stray missile or being found by Russian saboteurs in border regions at night are just additional small risks on top of the inherent risks associated with bike touring.
I will admit I underestimated the Ukrainian military and police presence in the border areas though.
