As soon as I board the RUS ferry headed for Vladivostok, I can't help but notice that times are changing - and it's not just because the clocks are adjusted to Siberian Time. Once the hospitable, carefree environs of Japan are left behind, you immediately get the feeling that you are going to have to fight for your survival, and my first trial begins when I have to secure some space between hundreds of used Japanese cars in order to tie up the bike. The staff assesses me with looks that seem to say, "Let's see if he can manage this himself. Right now, we can't be bothered."

The ocean crossing from the Scottish Highlands to Norway has taken 22 hours. Waiting for the okay to progress ashore, I sit astride my BMW GS on the ferry's worn polished deck and do my best to ignore the cold, gnawing wind. My thoughts drift back to countless warm evenings over the past three years, nights that Lisa and I had spent in preparation, excitedly devouring the contents of hundreds of different maps, books and travel guides in the planning of our around-the-world motorcycle adventure.