Moscow Treasure

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oday was rather extraordinary, to say the least.

We started off checking out Russia’s version of McDonald’s for breakfast- which of course had pancakes which made me happy. And what looked like non-sweet potato pie. Halleluiah, civilisation.

Then Hugo and I queued up, a tad jumpingly, to see Lenin. After a brief queue (“the end of the queue is back there!””Is it? Oh.”) and a kerfuffle over Hugo’s phone being denied entrance, we walked past some plaques to dead Communists and into Lenin’s mausoleum. The Asians (possibly Japanese) in front kept talking so the visit was to a soundtrack of “tssh!” from the soldiers. We wandered down marble steps, around the glass coffin and back out again. Hugo and I disagree as to whether it is him, but I can’t believe we can preserve a body for 80 years like that. That and he looks like Lenin- not like a Lenin close to death. I was rather chuffed at seeing him as I now have the full house of Communist leaders- Ho, Kim, Mao and Lenin. Points for me.

Then we headed to the Kremlin. We wandered in and out of churches although they are to me like temples, all the same and not particularly interesting. I miss the familiar Anglican tradition.

Then to the Armoury. I can say without hesitation the Armoury is the most impressive place I have ever been. It is crammed with case after case of the most expensive, fantastic, unique objects. Even something tucked away in the corner of a case would be the star of another museum’s show. There were cases of silver given to the Tsars that were priceless. Gem encrusted silver gospel covers-tens of them. Silver jugs, plates, imperial dinner sets, ornaments. Gold, silver, diamonds everywhere. Faberge eggs (Mum’s favourite). Collections of the most ornate guns and swords- all inlaid with pearl and diamond. Suits of armour- both of man and horse. Another of ornate horse tack and a room of huge, opulent, almost god-like carriages. A room showing dresses the Tsarinas wore (my favourite). It was like a dragon’s horde. I cannot stress how filled with awe I was to wander through those rooms filled with such treasure- both in terms of sheer raw material as well as supreme craftsmanship and historical value. It got to the point where my eyes were exhausted from seeing all those wondrous things. It just blew me away.

Every object was priceless. I can’t possibly list the particularly amazing ones but there was a gospel cover with huge carved emeralds, large silver snow leopards (gifts from England), huge gold covered carriages needing 23 horses to draw it, thrones of ivory, dresses of gold and silver thread, silver dinner sets, huge silver models of castles on rocks, I could go on.

Mum rather liked the Faberge eggs. They all have surprises inside and one had a train with gold carriages that Mum liked. I liked a crystal one with a horse. The display of horse tack was fantastic- such intricate work.

It was just jaw-dropping. When we got outside we sat there, slightly stunned.

Eventually we roused ourselves and had lunch- I had borsch-which was rather tasty. There was a surprisingly cheap bottle of champagne we ordered and sat in the sun watching the world go by. Nice.

Then to Tretyakov art museum which houses a collection of art by exclusively Russian artists. Some of it was very good- although there were endless forested landscapes. Some of my favourites included a painting of a street in Paris using very indistinct brush strokes. Another was a woman combing her hair with a confident smile of one going to pull on her night out. Another was one of three people on ponies, of course.

I still can’t get over the Armoury.  

Moscow Treasure

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oday was rather extraordinary, to say the least.

We started off checking out Russia’s version of McDonald’s for breakfast- which of course had pancakes which made me happy. And what looked like non-sweet potato pie. Halleluiah, civilisation.

Then Hugo and I queued up, a tad jumpingly, to see Lenin. After a brief queue (“the end of the queue is back there!””Is it? Oh.”) and a kerfuffle over Hugo’s phone being denied entrance, we walked past some plaques to dead Communists and into Lenin’s mausoleum. The Asians (possibly Japanese) in front kept talking so the visit was to a soundtrack of “tssh!” from the soldiers. We wandered down marble steps, around the glass coffin and back out again. Hugo and I disagree as to whether it is him, but I can’t believe we can preserve a body for 80 years like that. That and he looks like Lenin- not like a Lenin close to death. I was rather chuffed at seeing him as I now have the full house of Communist leaders- Ho, Kim, Mao and Lenin. Points for me.

Then we headed to the Kremlin. We wandered in and out of churches although they are to me like temples, all the same and not particularly interesting. I miss the familiar Anglican tradition.

Then to the Armoury. I can say without hesitation the Armoury is the most impressive place I have ever been. It is crammed with case after case of the most expensive, fantastic, unique objects. Even something tucked away in the corner of a case would be the star of another museum’s show. There were cases of silver given to the Tsars that were priceless. Gem encrusted silver gospel covers-tens of them. Silver jugs, plates, imperial dinner sets, ornaments. Gold, silver, diamonds everywhere. Faberge eggs (Mum’s favourite). Collections of the most ornate guns and swords- all inlaid with pearl and diamond. Suits of armour- both of man and horse. Another of ornate horse tack and a room of huge, opulent, almost god-like carriages. A room showing dresses the Tsarinas wore (my favourite). It was like a dragon’s horde. I cannot stress how filled with awe I was to wander through those rooms filled with such treasure- both in terms of sheer raw material as well as supreme craftsmanship and historical value. It got to the point where my eyes were exhausted from seeing all those wondrous things. It just blew me away.

Every object was priceless. I can’t possibly list the particularly amazing ones but there was a gospel cover with huge carved emeralds, large silver snow leopards (gifts from England), huge gold covered carriages needing 23 horses to draw it, thrones of ivory, dresses of gold and silver thread, silver dinner sets, huge silver models of castles on rocks, I could go on.

Mum rather liked the Faberge eggs. They all have surprises inside and one had a train with gold carriages that Mum liked. I liked a crystal one with a horse. The display of horse tack was fantastic- such intricate work.

It was just jaw-dropping. When we got outside we sat there, slightly stunned.

Eventually we roused ourselves and had lunch- I had borsch-which was rather tasty. There was a surprisingly cheap bottle of champagne we ordered and sat in the sun watching the world go by. Nice.

Then to Tretyakov art museum which houses a collection of art by exclusively Russian artists. Some of it was very good- although there were endless forested landscapes. Some of my favourites included a painting of a street in Paris using very indistinct brush strokes. Another was a woman combing her hair with a confident smile of one going to pull on her night out. Another was one of three people on ponies, of course.

I still can’t get over the Armoury.  

Vladimir

After 70 long, long, long hours on the train we arrived in Vladimir. Vladimir is a former capital of Russia but, after meeting with the Mongols, lost out to Moscow eventually. It seems to be composed of older buildings brightly painted and the odd concrete district lurking in the background. Cars range from comically old Soviet types to BMWs. No McDonalds.

One thing about Russia I should mention are the minibuses. They act like normal buses, with routes and numbers, but are faster. Their drivers never speak English but now I have mastered the Russian for Lenin Square/Street (which seems to always be our destination) we get along fine. I think they should introduce these minibuses in the UK- they'd be great for rural routes.

I am confused by the non existent level of English skills here. If they speak it in Laos, why not Russia??

Luckily my ipod speaks Russian so we can scrape by... Although Russians are rather bewildered by what I'm doing.

Our hostel is called Pilgrim Hostel. It has a rule that un-married couples can't share a room. None of this rang warning bells until I looked at the directions to the hostel today and saw it was near an Evangelical Church. And, lo and behold, there is a distinct Christian theme here. Jesus is everywhere. The wifi password is "bethlehem". Thank god it's only for one night.

Bizarrely we are rather jetlagged- even though we spent the train journey trying to adjust. 4 hours is enough to make a difference I guess.

As I was starving we traipsed around trying to find food while I got crosser and crosser, not helped by hitting my head for the millionth time on a random metal pole. Eventually we found a nice place and planted. With the cafe's most English fluent waitress and my ipod we ordered a pizza, red wine and sprite followed by cherry pie. After 3 days of jam sandwich and dreams, it was grrreat.

On the way back we went past Vladimir's Golden Gate, which had brides queuing up to have pictures taken with it. Reminded me of Qingdao. I miss Qingdao. Mostly the teppanyaki restaurant in Qingdao, but the rest as well.

P.s. I go offline for 3 days and world markets are crashing- did I miss something?

70 Hour Train

Our last day in Irkutsk we spent trying to see the sights. However we turned left instead of right out of the hostel and the sights consisted of one church and a box of kittens. Which was enough for me. The church was Orthodox and was the first Orthodox one I’ve been in. The walls were stuffed with paintings that looked like they used to belong to other churches that got destroyed and the paintings were saved and kept in this one. There was a service going on or something. A woman asked me a question in Russian and I was so surprised at not being recognised as obviously foreign, I gawped back. She took this as a yes and seemed content.

That was something to get used to- to being asked questions by Russians about if I knew where such and such was. For the past year, I have been obviously a foreigner and therefore dumb.

The kittens were very cute. Their mum looked a bit stressed but the church seemed to be feeding her. I picked one kitten up and it was adorable. I’m a sucker for baby animals.

Eventually we had another go at sight seeing and wandered down

Karl Marx street

which was rather nice. We found a square to sit in and I read a book by Christopher Hitchens called “Letters to a Young Contrarian” which I’d found in the hostel. I am a great admirer of Hitchens, and indeed have a not insubstantial amount of respect for his younger brother Peter Hitchens, so I rather enjoyed it.

A fat Russian woman came over and tried to sit in the small gap between me and someone else which involved sitting on me. Which annoyed me.

Russian women are very tall, slim and beautiful until they marry and then they turn into short, fat crones. An interesting phenomenon.

The main conundrum of Irkutsk was in fact the time. We were west of Beijing but oddly the local time was one hour ahead, as if we were to the east. Eventually we discovered that Russia is now on permanent summer time.

We found a café and sat outside. I was very taken with the Europeaness of it all. I had Siberian tea which was basically tea with cranberry juice. I like tea and I like cranberry juice but I wasn’t sure they went well together. At one point the local Navy regiment passed by. It was around 2pm but they were already rather drunk and caroused past waving bottles and shouting. They were all wearing sailor berets and stripy vests. If this hadn’t been Irkutsk, I’d have thought it was a Gay Pride march.

Getting to the train station was a tad hairy but my coolheadedness combined with some inventive miming by Mum meant we got there. We pulled away in the Siberian dusk.

I’m writing this on the train as we pull out of Yekaterinburg, after 2 days on the train. Mum has just braved nipping off the train to buy peanuts and twixes. I’m not going to lie; food has occupied the vast majority of my thoughts recently. Our rations consist of jam sandwiches and some eeked out snacks, as well as an excellent supply of teabags. After 2 days of stale jam sandwiches, I crave pretty much anything else.

We had a foray to the restaurant cart which did not disappoint our expectations of expensive prices. We had some weird chopped ham and tomato mixed into fried egg on a hot plate thing. Not bad. In fact, positively ambrosia at this point. But expensive.

Our berth is rather snazzy. There are two beds either side which fold up to form the back of a cabin length chair. There are several handy compartments and even coat hangers. The toilets, at the end of the carriage, are rather scary and when they flush, make my ears pop. They are slightly better than the last train’s one though- you could see the track under the train every time you flushed the contents out…

This train ride is a rather meaningless existence. The landscape has consisted of mostly trees. We have watched the two films on my computer and are listening to Around the World in 100 Objects, which can be a bit wearying when heard all at once. I have played many games of chess against the computer on the easiest setting and won once, drawn once. (The last one I had two knights and the computer had nothing but the king and I still managed to draw…)

We keep seeing the Beijing-Moscow train and alternate being ahead and behind. Our train originally came from Vladivostok, on the Pacific coast.

I came across some pictures on my ipod of tuna sashimi and teppanyaki. Tasty steak and onions. I can’t stop thinking of pork crackling, with roast pork, carrots, peas, roast potatoes, mash potato, Yorkshire pudding, gravy and apple sauce. Or chicken and mushroom pie. Or ploughman’s sandwiches. Or Korean BBQ. Or, sweet Jesus, a McChicken sandwich and fries.

24 hours to go.

Lake Baikal

Lake Baikal is the deepest lake in the world, at over 1600m deep. Two thirds of its flora and fauna are found nowhere else on Earth, including a freshwater seal. It was formed in a rift and so is not particularly wide and only has one island, which we did not visit. The water is famed for its purity and I can say that it was very clear. The water was a strange deep blue-green that hinted at its normal occupation as being ice several feet thick. The vegetation I could see was rather sparse, and again looked like it spent a large part of its time being very very cold. The water, even now, is exceptionally chilly. I dipped a toe in, which was enough, and some brave Russian went for a brief swim, although he had the several layers of blubber I lack.

The lake is surrounded by steep hills covered in coniferous woods and the odd house of wood. There are a few boats ferrying people around. In winter you can just drive across the lake but in the summer, you need a boat.

Mum and I wandered up and down the thin stretch of pebble beach. We looked at the lake. Then we wondered what to do for the next 4 hours. The lake was very pretty but, as with the Great Wall being just a big wall, this was, really, just a big lake. I was only wearing a t-shirt and although it was warm, when there was a breeze it was a tad chilly. I lay down on the beach under the breeze and had a snooze. After a bit we wandered around and found a war memorial. Using my Ipod, which speaks Russian as well as Chinese, I tried to find out which war. One bit was definitely WW1 and another WW2 but one was dated 2010 and was about the Fatherland War. I couldn’t remember a war in Russia in 2010 so was, and remain, a bit confused.

We had dinner overlooking the lake before catching the bus back. It was very pretty.

Nihao Russia

We arrived in Irkutsk 30 hours after we started, although a large amount seemed to have been spent stationary. Geographically we were still in Asia but culturally this was definitely Europe. The people were mostly white, although had those rather indefinable features that are definitely Slavic. The frenetic energy of Asia had dissipated- no more endless neon signs or street stalls. No KTV. The architecture was now either composed of rather cute wooden buildings with carved liniments, or European influenced brick buildings with facades coloured in pale greens and yellows. Irkutsk is around 350 years old and the concrete monsters have mostly been kept out of the centre.

We emerged out of the station at around 8:30. Early mornings in Siberia are fairly cold and there was mist and dew everywhere. I led Mum to a minibus and we got on. I hesitantly said “

Lenin Street

?” to the bus driver and he replied in Russian. I picked out “Lenina” and was reassured. We trundled over a bridge and into the city and got off at the 3^rd stop. Following my instructions, we wandered around the back of a building and I found a small sign for our hostel. Success.

After checking in we caught another minibus to the main bus station. At least that had been the plan but when it came to a halt not near a bus station it was evident something had gone wrong. The driver didn’t speak a word of English and my Russian is about the same standard so I pointed at our map. After jabbering at us he waved at someone who came over and led us to another bus. It turned out we’d got the bus in the wrong direction and eventually arrived at the bus station in time to see the bus to Listvyanka fill up and leave. We went inside and bought tickets which involved the seller writing 12.00 on a piece of paper and me trying to pay 12 roubles, which wasn’t right, and then 1200, which comically wasn’t right either and then realised 12 was the time.

We waited in a fast food restaurant across the road before it was time for our bus and we were off to Listvyanka. Which is where the deepest lake in the world, Lake Baikal, is.

30 hour Train

A mate of our hostel’s owner drove us to the station and happily spent the journey telling us how we’d picked the slow train which wasn’t as fast as the fast train which was therefore worse than the fast train. He refused to take a fare and then Mum and I were left on a long platform in the dying light of a Mongolian sunset. We had a slight problem in that I had several thousand tugrugs left so had to wander around trying to spend it. I bought some twixes.

           Then we hopped on and found our berth. We were sharing with two Australians, a man with Dutch ancestry, and a woman, originally from Brazil, who was trying to collect her third passport from Portugal. They made for acceptable travel companions, although like all Australians they were obsessed with talking about the economy. Cos theirs is doing rather well.

            We arrived at the border around 6 in the morning but weren’t prodded to hand over passports until around 9 am, which pleased me very much. International border crossings are always at some ungodly hour. For some reason the train was staying at that station for around two more hours so I got off and wandered up and down. At this point every muscle in my body was aching because of the riding so I hobbled slowly from one end to the other. There was a little puppy also hobbling around, calling for its mother who was distressingly not there. I went over and cooed at it for a bit and it decided to snuggle into my trousers. Heart melted. A guard gave it something to eat and I tore myself away.

            The train moved away to change tracks or something and Mum, who had got off, thought it was leaving and got back on pretty sharpish.

            Eventually we chugged away for real, and we left Mongolia.

            At the Russian border there were no puppies, only rather large guard dogs patrolling, drool hanging from their enormous teeth. Mum reckoned they used the puppy to feed the guard dogs. The Russian guards got on and looked around. One was a female, rather tall, with long blond hair in a plait. She wore enough make-up to work at Harrods and a uniform of black jacket and leather jackboots. She looked like a Bond girl.

            Occasionally a dog ran up and down the corridor. We stayed in our berths.

            After a few hours we moved on.

            The landscape itself did not change so much but there were no more gers. There were rather ramshackle houses of wood with corrugated iron roofs. Each tended to have a vegetable plot, with mostly potatoes planted, surrounded by a wooden fence. There was not much livestock, although we saw chickens for the first time. As we carried on it became obvious we were no longer on the steppes, rather the wooded hills and valleys stretching away from us were now Siberia.