Tuesday 
1.9.2015 
336km Total: 7101km 
17
The maps in the GPS have left a lot to be desired for some parts of the but regardless I go in completely blind, we're obviously riding in the right general direction towards the border so how wrong can we go?
Well, we did go in the right general direction and we did arrive at a border crossing... in to Hungary.
Hungary wasn't part of our plan at so we have no idea what the rules are regarding road tax so once again I consult our support crew and get the message back that yes, a vignette is required for this country.
But we sort of sneak just inside the Ukrainian border on some kind of moonshine route so we never even get near a place where we would be able to buy one.
After riding a few dozen kms we arrive at the border crossing at Tiszabecs.
The border police's English vocabulary was obviously as limited as his sense of humour so when he barks why you go?! my standard reply of why not? does not appease him. It does not appease him at all.
So on the next round of why you go?!! I adjust my reply to that I of course wanted visit his beautiful country in general and the city Lviv in particular.
That was obviously the right answer so I get a snappy OK!
Next problem. He needs to register the temporary import of the Tiger which is obviously of an unknown make to him since he points at the bike and asks, what is, what is, to which I reply that it's a Triumph motorcycle.
He's obviously got some kind of index he's flipping through and counts out the letters loud in this for him probably very confusing game of scrabble but when he get's to tah,tah,tah and then jubilantly exclaims Trabant! I had a pretty hard time keeping a straight face.
We did finally agree on the post a few clicks further down in the index that said Trihumphf!.
After this he refers me to the niiekst windov pliiis misstarr Tohmie Frunkk! with an absolutely bad ass accent worthy of even the most diabolical of Bond villains.
Now it becomes completely obvious we're entering former communist territory because the second guy (in the same both just separated from the first guy by a wall) did the exact same thing the first guy had already done with the only addition being that he gave me a note with the registration number of the Trabant which he stressed was extremely important that I didn't loose.
I would have to be a very disorganised person to be able to do that since we were to part with the note to uniform #3 just 20m further down the road...
Pretty much right away we realize that the detour into Hungary had been time saving since the roads are in such a state it was almost chocking.
And I had even been warned by a friend of the sad state of the Ukrainian "roads".
It's apparently a fact that in the former Soviet states the roads where built on banks of dirt instead of gravel which causes frost damage in winter and bleeding asphalt in summer which causes the road to get deep ruts lengthwise.
He also warned us about potholes large enough to hide a small cow and even though it never got that bad I still don't understand why they don't remove the asphalt altogether, a dirt road can at least be raked into drivable condition.
Because of the on-going Crimea conflict our normal traffic insurance doesn't cover Ukraine and you normally get traffic insurance at the border, in Kosovo it was obvious we're we should get it.
There is no such place here and trying to get any kind of directions from Mr. Why you go would quite obviously have been completely futile.
We never got to any place that looked like they would supply what we needed and perhaps because of this we saw police absolutely everywhere.
I have never ridden so painstakingly legal in my whole life as I did from the border and all the way to Lviv, almost 300km.
In Lviv they have sorted the bad asphalt dilemma by instead paving with cobble stone... everywhere.
I'm sure glad it didn't rain when we rode into town because that would have been like riding on ice, now it just turned out to be a full body massage.
The Swiss hotel was one of the more luxurious places I've ever stayed, the whole place just exuded pure class and the doorman didn't just offer he promptly demanded to carry all our gear and the receptionist was so cute I almost proposed right on the spot.
Water break and money exchange somewhere close to the border in Ukraine.
A special combo offer at a petrol station. They put a 0.5L vodka with 0.5L Pepsi.
A warm welcome in Lviv.
A couple out on an evening want though we where so exotic they wanted to pose with us.
Supper on the terrace.
