First morning on the Trans-Siberian. Slept far better than the previous train, aided by the many vodkas downed after lost games of Shithead. Moscow is not a pretty city, but there are some wonderful sights - the Kremlin, Red Square, St Basil's Cathedral, the Space Museum. Strangest of all was Lenin's Mausoleum. After a few attempts to beat the system of checking in ours bags, we went in. It is eerily silent, soldiers at each corner mutely point you onwards, demanding respect be shown by removing hands from pockets, and taking off hats. And then there's Lenin, reposing in a glass-sided showcase. His skin is shiny, looking all the world like a dead mannequin. Stopping is not permitted. It's odd that he is on show at all, but that he is still part of the Russian state system, and minded by military, not some museum curators.
We've reached Balezino, and a swarm of babushkas have gathered around the door of the carriage. They sell everything from fish to meat, or beer, or furs. They are mostly old women ('babushka' translating as 'granny'), but some young people too.
The highlight of Moscow was almost certainly the circus - a high wire act that opens with two men passing a woman across their heads is going to be fantastic, and it didn't disappoint. Some ballet, an aerial dancer, an African tripe who danced and performed acrobatics on a pole. Some little dogs did tricks, which was cute, but the dancing horse looked uncomfortable. The final act were the monkeys. It wasn't even a good act, just dressing them up and making them jump. But then the trainer started hitting one monkey with a stick. It was horrific. Left a sour taste in everyone's mouths.
Maria was our Moscovian honcho. Not as laid-back as Nazeem, she seemed like she would be efficient. I t was, however, her first tour, and she wasn't sure where the hostel was. But she made up for it with her recommendations - a boat trip and a look at the Moscow skyline. She seemed taken aback by our genuine interest in the sights of Moscow, rather than drinking and partying all night.
Travelling on the train so far has been mostly pleasant. The compartments are roomy enough, and we haven't even been to the restaurant car yet. Within an hour of leaving Moscow, two locals joined us in a compartment, with no respect for personal space. Funny at first, but tiresome after a while. Inevitably we nicknamed the biggest guy Boris, who was making advances on Hollie. Eventually he left, purely out of boredom I think. We locked the door then, but he returned quickly, a little angry, but he left us alone then. He returned about three hours later to ask us to delete our photos of him. He roams the carriage still, like a grouchy bear.
The attendants are quite nice though, minding us at stations, making sure we don't get left behind.
I've been in Russia a week and a half now, and so have some impressions of the place and the people, at least in the cities. There seems to have been an explosion of wealth in the last few years, so that there's an obsession with showing off wealth, and conspicuous consumption. It's evident in the cars many people have, and the habit of Russian girls posing for photographs like models - a trophy wife phenomenon. Weddings are also a huge deal, and frequent in SPB. I counted 13 on Saturday, and we saw at least 10 on Monday. There is a Russian tradition of shouting 'gorika' at the bride and groom so that they kiss - it translates as 'sweet'.
It's also apparent because there's a price for everything. In the Peter & Paul Fortress there was an extra charge to climb the battlements. On the plus side, services are provided in a more widespread manner - especially public toilets. Public amenities are well looked after - workers sweep and clean often, there's very little rubbish anywhere.
Dom's diary for the days:
http://domcheeseman.blogspot.ie/2011/09/day-99-moscow.html
http://domcheeseman.blogspot.ie/2011/09/day-100-moscow.html
http://domcheeseman.blogspot.ie/2011/09/day-101-train-to-irkutsk.html
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| Lenin's Mausoleum |
***
We've reached Balezino, and a swarm of babushkas have gathered around the door of the carriage. They sell everything from fish to meat, or beer, or furs. They are mostly old women ('babushka' translating as 'granny'), but some young people too.
***
The highlight of Moscow was almost certainly the circus - a high wire act that opens with two men passing a woman across their heads is going to be fantastic, and it didn't disappoint. Some ballet, an aerial dancer, an African tripe who danced and performed acrobatics on a pole. Some little dogs did tricks, which was cute, but the dancing horse looked uncomfortable. The final act were the monkeys. It wasn't even a good act, just dressing them up and making them jump. But then the trainer started hitting one monkey with a stick. It was horrific. Left a sour taste in everyone's mouths.
***
Maria was our Moscovian honcho. Not as laid-back as Nazeem, she seemed like she would be efficient. I t was, however, her first tour, and she wasn't sure where the hostel was. But she made up for it with her recommendations - a boat trip and a look at the Moscow skyline. She seemed taken aback by our genuine interest in the sights of Moscow, rather than drinking and partying all night.
***
Travelling on the train so far has been mostly pleasant. The compartments are roomy enough, and we haven't even been to the restaurant car yet. Within an hour of leaving Moscow, two locals joined us in a compartment, with no respect for personal space. Funny at first, but tiresome after a while. Inevitably we nicknamed the biggest guy Boris, who was making advances on Hollie. Eventually he left, purely out of boredom I think. We locked the door then, but he returned quickly, a little angry, but he left us alone then. He returned about three hours later to ask us to delete our photos of him. He roams the carriage still, like a grouchy bear.
The attendants are quite nice though, minding us at stations, making sure we don't get left behind.
***
I've been in Russia a week and a half now, and so have some impressions of the place and the people, at least in the cities. There seems to have been an explosion of wealth in the last few years, so that there's an obsession with showing off wealth, and conspicuous consumption. It's evident in the cars many people have, and the habit of Russian girls posing for photographs like models - a trophy wife phenomenon. Weddings are also a huge deal, and frequent in SPB. I counted 13 on Saturday, and we saw at least 10 on Monday. There is a Russian tradition of shouting 'gorika' at the bride and groom so that they kiss - it translates as 'sweet'.
It's also apparent because there's a price for everything. In the Peter & Paul Fortress there was an extra charge to climb the battlements. On the plus side, services are provided in a more widespread manner - especially public toilets. Public amenities are well looked after - workers sweep and clean often, there's very little rubbish anywhere.
***
Dom's diary for the days:
http://domcheeseman.blogspot.ie/2011/09/day-99-moscow.html
http://domcheeseman.blogspot.ie/2011/09/day-100-moscow.html
http://domcheeseman.blogspot.ie/2011/09/day-101-train-to-irkutsk.html
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