Episode 21: Moscow, Marilyn Monroe and mad organisation

An acoustic guitar (and Marilyn Monroe)

So there I was, falling asleep on top of my suitcase on the Aeroexpress train from Moscow Domodedevo Airport to Paveletsky Station. I'd been up since 2am. (British time) I needed either coffee or sleep. I had no idea what to do when the train journey ended. It was supposedly -19...

Outside the window was a rush of slush and snow and the snowy trees of  a scraggy forest. The carriage was populated with several suntanned Russians returning from some far-off island holiday and heavily drinking the rum they'd bought as a souvenir. A little boy pretending to be a soldier kept opening and closing the carriage doors. Each time he did this the compartment was filled with icy blasts of air. Come to think of it he is probably the only reason I didn't fall asleep completely.

45 minutes later I dragged myself and my case up the platform and into the metro below the station. I took it all the way to the stop closest to my hostel and retraced my novemeber steps along Kuznetskaya Ulitsa. Soon I found myself collapsing in the reception of the hostel that i'd visited with Jaya, Marilyn and Alex last year. (See this post:  http://fromrussiawithrob.blogspot.com/2011/11/episode-18-part-one-moscow-hostels.html )

This time, however, I wasn't inserted next to the builders in a bottom-floor room and instead found myself in a perfectly reasonable single on the upper floors of the hostel. Venturing to this previously unknown quarter of the building I found myself staring at endless pictures of Marilyn Monroe that adorned every wall and flat surface. At first I thought this was a symptom of my tiredness but it seems that, before the current overhaul, this part of the hostel was a separate hotel know as "Marilyn Hostel" It's almost borderline obsessive decor plasters images of the 50's superstar nearly everywhere. Their rigid adherence to their scheme stretches as far as the toilets which also don't escape her stare and cheeky smile - oi, what you looking at! Luckily the shower cubicles are her biggest blind spot so for a few minutes a day I can escape this bizarre big brother. After a night's sleep I got used to it and in fact find it a little disappointing that the staff aren't dressed like the cast of "Grease".

A cool bookshelf for guests to swap literature (and, of course, Marilyn pics)

The next afternoon (I slept til 2pm) I took a walk out in the freezing temperatures towards Red Square and the Kremlin. I bought a brunch in a coffee house and began to relax and acclimatize. It only feels truly cold here when you're walking into a breeze or taking your gloves off to use a phone or fumble for change. By far the biggest annoyance is slush. This muddy matter clings to boot tread and delights in coating the ends of your trousers or flicking up the legs as your walk. Muscovites, as far as I can tell, have some inert ability to wear whatever they like and pass through it unsoiled and composed. The day I stop walking round the city looking at my feet will probably be the day I finally blend in.

Home base for the next few days

So much still to do over the next few days! I need to get registered with the paper, view apartments and hopefully prolong my stay in the hotel until I am able to move in somewhere. It's been months of frantic organising to even get myself this far and with the end just about in sight i'm unsure whether it's frustration or excitement that I feel. Nonetheless, the boy is back in town.

More soon!

Episode 18 (Part One): Moscow, hostels, builders and Basil's

"ты хочешь знать, что видел я на воле?"

Mikhail Lermontov, "Mtsyri" 

Oh would that I had a smart phone so that I could have better kept my word and filled you in from the road dear reader! Or rather not, because I was having far too much fun to write blog-posts! So stop complaining! Jeez!

Bags all packed!

Of course we arrived a little heady and tired-eyed into Leningrad Station (also known by its old name Oktyabersky Vokzal as our confusing train tickets taught us) and dropped our bags underneath the giant Lenin head in the entrance hall. The train journey was pretty good. Alex took a fantastic photo of me cramming a bun into my mouth but unfortunately his camera went missing later in the trip...(that’s another story.) Spending the night in the platzkart (cheapest) carriage was pretty much ok. We were not robbed or murdered. We did not encounter “bizarre people” as one of our university teachers guaranteed. Our conductor was pleasant and once the large lady sat opposite us stopped snoring we were able to shut our eyes and drift away into sleep as the Karelian forests dwindled outside the window...

We knew we were in expensive, metropolitan Moscow because all of a sudden all the toilets cost 20 roubles a go and in every direction we were confronted by H&M and Zara advertising. The pavements were clean and unbroken. People from various ethnic groups cropped up all over the place. The tang of a nearby Mcdonalds drifted over the streets. Yes still Russia, but sadly a lot more like anywhere else in the world.

A gorgeous fountain in the 'Alexandrovsky Sad'

The Moscow metro was our first port of call and we easily navigated our way to “Okhotni Ryad” which was the station nearest our hostel. Our eyes opened wide as we emerged onto street level and came face to face with not only the newly-opened Bolshoi Theatre but also with the State Duma (parliament) and the red walls of the Kremlin. Who knew the main attractions were so close together! The sun was shining, we were in high spirits and I didn’t even need my mittens! Moscow grasped us immediately and the brief illusion that we were in any-old, global city was shattered by the red Russification of those searing onion domes.

"rising majestically" (ignore the manhole)

We found the hostel no problem, tucked in an alley near the Armenian Embassy annex. The friendly reception staff adored our fragrantly accented Russian and showed us the windy, confusing route to our room. Our four- bed dorm was nestled under several flights of stairs and the neighbouring rooms were being renovated by a gang of sketchy builders smoking, swearing and loitering in the hostel. Their sleazy sneers and loud protestations made our first trip to the showers a little tentative but hey we’re young and pretty aren’t we? Nothing to be ashamed of and no awkward towel slippages... So yes we felt a little uneasy at first but had a prime location near the communal kitchen and showers and our door had a decent double-lock so we soon settled in.

After taking a short break to wash ourselves up and wipe the sleepydust from our eyes we hit Red Square – a candidate for the country's greatest icon- and were greeted by the stunning St Basil’s Cathedral rising majestically on the skyline. It was our very own Virginia Woolf "moment of being" but we couldn't shake the gruesome story that Ivan the Terrible, according to legend, blinded the architect who built it so that he could never design anything more awe-inspiring. As always I find myself returning to my philiosophy that no matter how beautiful or crazy Russia seems it will never, ever be boring!

More really really soon. (no, really. I’m not having you on anymore)

Episode 17: I made it to Moskva! (or Rob has no time for blogging right now...)

Oh so much to let you all know and so little time! Instead of writing up all my adventures now, hurriedly and without photos, I have decided to wait until I am back in PTZ (what the cool kids call it) where I can upload at my leisure and put my thoughts in order. For now, click the link on the right to find my twitter page where I'll be keeping you all updated, as usual, with weird thoughts from the road.

Basically get ready for one massive episode when I get back featuring waxwork communists, looking like Gogol,  haggling with bored market traders, looking for a curry, taking "shocked face" photos in Red Square, giant cleaning ladies and the super rich...oh Moscow.