The shop manager, a plumpish lady probably in her mid to late 30s, not unattractive but no beauty either, helped me to a selection of biscuits, canned fish, water, chips and beer for tonight's meal. She weighed each biscuit individually and recorded them all in a ledger - what I had bought - and how many were left (this is traditional in Russia where there is more emphasis on recording the transaction than provision of the sale/service).
As I wandered back to the bike and loaded the goods onto the bike I looked back and she stood in the doorframe of the magasin watching me.
I could see a far away dreamy look in her eyes, wondering who I was, where I had come from and thinking that she too should have an adventure like this some day, but never would.
I realised at that point just how fortunate I was, not just on this journey but for everything in my life - travelling so far from home in such a magic country. I camped that night in the middle of a wheat field and waited until midnight for the midnight sun.
I went to sleep that night feeling all was good with the world.