Oops

Yesterday was black Thursday. The train journey was fantastic as always and we both managed to get more sleep this time.

However on departing the train, Mike realised that he no longer had his migration card in his passport which is where it has been the whole journey so far.

The migration card is actually a small slip of paper that appears in two halves. You fill out both on arrival to Russia with passport control keeping one half and you keep the other until you leave the country. According to realrussia.com, the company that helped us get our visas, the loss of that form could result in anything up to a £1,000 fine and a ban on returning to Russia in the next five years. That’s an expensive piece of paper. And Mike had lost his.

Off to Britain we walked. Well, to the British Embassy in the hope of meeting a nice English gentleman, dressed in a tweed suit, bowler hat, sporting a cup of tea and the latest copy of the Times. I don’t want to ruin this image for anyone so let’s pretend this fictional jolly British chap actually greeted us by name on the door, not a burly female Russian security guard with a union jack flag sewn onto her shoulder. Once inside, Geoffrey (as we’ll call him) laughed politely and informed us that it is common for people to lost this form. Some don’t even get given one if they drive into the country. He assured us that there would be no problems but gave us the number of the consular just in case.

Despite the reassurance, Mike was still pretty nervous about the lasting implications of losing that bit of paper not to mention the thought of being arrested and fined at passport control.

We went on to find a website for the Federal Migration Service which explained replacement cards were available at no cost, but we presumed a long wait and much confusion with important information lost in translation. Our hostel receptionist was happy to call them the next morning and Sofia, the daughter of the circus family, was ready to help us in person should we have any difficulties at the office.

It was at this point, after a day of anguish and worry, that Mike found his card hidden in his wallet, where he’d put it sub-consciously for safe keeping right before boarding the train. He didn’t want it falling out on the platform after all did he? Imagine losing that important piece of paper!

So all is well with the world once more. We’re back in familar surroundings with a circus family being so incredibly kind to us (they took us on a driving tour of Moscow) and we’re making even more crazy friends in our local bar. Their English may be broken and our Russian non-existant, but it’s amazing how the mixture of beer, football and smiling and nodding can break down international barriers.

From Russia With Love

The cow flies at midnight.

Ah but the moon is in the sky.

We must be in a spy movie. That’s what it felt like last night on the trans-siberian express. We were certain that there was at least one former KGB assassin on board. We could tell by their black polo neck jumpers and beards.

We were joined in our cabin by a famous Russian newsreader. She insisted she wasn’t that famous but we got her autograph just in case. Mike was preparing to PR her right until he realised she focused on cultural stories only. The train was quite noisy and so we didn’t get much sleep. Definately going to invest in a pair of earplugs for the return journey.

Before catching the train we were priviledged to go and watch a Russian circus. We even got to go backstage. The acts were amazing including the diablo and girls flying through the air. We were hoping the lions would turn on their tamer but the show was still impressive.

We’ve just arrived at the Crazy Duck where we’ll be spending the next week as we explore St Petersburg. Thanks to Scott’s superior map reading skills we found it without any problem. It’s a really nice place and is luxury compared to the hostel in Moscow.

We’re off to wander the streets and find a cafe for breakfast. Thankfully we’re starting to understand the Cryllic alphabet so we now know ‘cafe’, ‘bar’, ‘restaurant’ and ‘Macdonalds’. We should be fluent in a week!

At home with the Panovs

The guide book says you should try and gave an authentic meal with a Russian family. How likely is that? You can hardly walk up to a stranger in a bar and, as a foreigner, ask to pop round to theirs for dinner. Thankfully Scott already knew a Russian couple and their daughter. Well Ukranian to be precise but close enough.

And so we were treated to an enormous meal that consisted of potato and chicken soup, black bread, cold meats, new Russian salad, guerkins, roulade and vodka. Lots of vodka. That’s a toast, with vodka, every 15 minutes. It was amazing. The whole family joined us and we were privledged to use their best silverware which was obtained by mother Larissa climbing onto the shoulders of husband Slava. Did I mention they are a circus act? We didn’t expect to get a live show but it was hilarious to watch a circus family at home.

The food was amazing. The drink was exceptional. The hospitality was bar none. Probably the friendliest family in Moscow.

One of the most interesting points ofvthe night was on the topic if Georgia. The Russian family are certain that Georgia is on the verge of genocide. Lining up children and executing them. That’s why Russian invaded. That’s why they refuse to back down without NATO forces monitoring. Media spin or the truth? Either way they’re not too fond of the Americans, that’s for certain.

We’d already spent the day with Slava, seeing the sights, including the Kremlin, Church of Christ Our Saviour and Lenin’s tomb ( he’s not looking well).

After a slight (hour long diversion) we finally made it back to the hostel. One more beer then time for bed.

Glasnostfest

So we arrive in Mosow ( via Copenhagen), full of anticipation, only to be greeted with hundreds of people trying to get through passport control. Absolute chaos. Arguments in the queue and just as we’re nearing the freedom of Russia, they close the gate I’m front of us! It was like waiting for a band to start playing at Glastonbury!

Eventually we made it through and were greeted by Slava, Scott’s friend, who guided us to our hostel. Without him we’d still be wandering the streets of the city.

Of course if you’ve ever tried explaining what PR is to someone in English, try explaining it to a Russian!

Speaking of PR, I think Russia is leagues ahead of the UK. Well imagine if you managed to get your client to shoot a tiger seconds before it attacked a group of journalists. That’s what Vladamir Putin did. Now that’s a PR stunt!

After a hot meal and two vats of beer we feel much better (and drunk). Just one more before a good night sleep.

Traveling light

So we’re on the way to Russia. Despite pretty much packing exactly the same, Mike’s bag is much heavier. Taking out three shirts did little ease the load but it was worth trying.

Hopefully we’ll be able to continue this blog(ski) from Russia but might go wrong as we pass through the iron curtain.

We’re incredibly excited and a little apprehensive of the country that seems to get two extremely opposing reactions:

1. Why on earth are you going to Russia? And why are you going for two weeks?

Or

2. Wow. I’ve always wanted to go there!

Well we’ve always had the latter reaction which is why we’re flying into a war zone. As a special EU summit about Georgia and Russia takes place today, it’s going to be interesting to see the story unfold and the reactions from the other side of the curtain.