Blessed, blessed release. When we finally pulled into Beijing, I was one of the first off of the train. I'd already said my goodbyes and collected email addresses. There was no final lingering on the platform, bidding fond adieus. Nope, I was for a shower, food, and laundry.
The first obstacle to these worthy goals was getting a cab to my hostel. I had taken the precaution of learning to say my street name in Chinese, writing out the address in characters, and circling the location on a map of Beijing. Despite these elaborate preparations, I could not get one single metered cab to admit that he knew where Nan Luo Gu Xiang was. I tried between 10 & 15 before finally giving in and going through a tout. Thus, my entry to Beijing was marked by my needing to pay 70 quai (local for yuan - translates as buck) for my 26 quai ride. I was not pleased, but was so desperate for food and a shower that I didn't mind too horribly.
At my hostel, I was shown to my lovely 8 person dorm. There, I monopolized the bathroom for a good 1/2 hour. I scoured myself. I washed my hair twice. It was heaven. Hot water. Wow.
Then, I packed up almost all of my clothes and dropped them off to be washed. This left me in my pyjama pants, but hey! it's China. Loads of people were wearing pyjama pants. I had no qualms in walking next door to the cafe and getting a huge salad and mozzarella sticks, which for some reason seemed like the perfect meal.
These important tasks completed, I booked my Great Wall hike from Jinshanling to Simatai for Thursday (this was Tuesday), an acrobatics show for Wednesday night and a kung fu show for Friday night. That completed the duty portion of my day. I was now free to goof off online and then hit the hay.
Funny, I actually had a hard time getting my land legs. I kept feeling like I was still in motion and I had a horrible time sleeping. I missed the rocking motion of the train. Isn't that pathetic? All those days on the train longing for a bed, and then, I couldn't sleep.
I still got up at 8:30am to get a start on my day. First stop was the Bank of China to pull some currency out of the ATM. That was no problem. Next was find the Forbidden City. Easy enough. It is absolutely enormous after all. Nope. My sense of direction is completely skewed in Beijing. I walked in the opposite direction. For those who've never been to Beijing, it is immense. A block can go on for a mile. Everything is far apart. After walking for over an hour, I determined that I might be lost. OK, easily fixed. I knew that I hadn't gone far, so I jumped in a taxi, asking for Tienanmen Square.
Harrumph. I don't think that she did it deliberately, but instead of driving straight down the street to the square (I'd walked in the exact opposite direction), she went the other way and jumped on the ring road. So, not only did she add distance and price to the meter, she got us stuck in Beijing's worst traffic. A 10 yuan, 15 minute trip turned into a 28 yuan, 45 minute trip. I was not amused. I vowed not to get in another Beijing taxi. I was also dropped off about 1/2 a mile from the square, and my driver pointed me in the wrong direction.
I walked into the hutong for a bit, finally meeting fellow tourists who were at least able to point me in the right direction. I also found a camera shop that carried a battery charger for my lithium ion camera battery. This put me in a good enough mood to enjoy my sightseeing. I was starting to get nervous about finding a charger and I was down to the last of my three batteries.
The square...it is the world's largest public space. It is enormous. It dwarfs the Zocolo in Mexico City. I was there during the early afternoon, so I didn't see anyone flying a kite, but there were multiple kite vendors. Sadly, Mao's tomb was closed for renovations, so I am unable to offer a comparison between Lenin and Chairman Mao. However, I did find a wonderful clock/calendar counting down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until the Beijing Olympics. They are SERIOUSLY excited about the Olympics. Everyone talks about it, and practices English, and renovates for the tourists, even Mao's crystal crypt.
The square was fine, but really, just a square. I bought a pink parasol and continued on to the Forbidden Palace. I did the audio tour, which was excellent, if only for the pure use of Chinglish. For those unfamiliar with the form, it is English translated directly from the Chinese that comes off very strangely. See my pics for many excellent examples. I tried to snap pics of good Chinglish signs.
The palace museum is immense. It's an enormous expanse of stone and paint. Honestly, it looks very uncomfortable to live in, but extremely grand. I wish that I'd been there between 1911 when the last Qing Emperor was overthrown and 1924 when he was evicted from the Inner Palace. In1915, the Outer Palace, including the Hall of Supreme Harmony (I love it!), was opened to the public. Imagine, entering a place that's been closed off for over 400 years, and yet still not being allowed to even see into the heart of it. My imagination would have run wild! It must have been incredibly romantic.
I wandered through as much as I could take of the Palace's 800 buildings, making sure to stop by the Palace of Concentrated Beauty, the harem. This was depressing. Such a small space, enclosing so many women and keeping them from living any sort of a normal life. The garden was quite nice. Lots of gnarled Cypress trees and strangely shaped rocks. The 24 emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties who ruled from here liked to sit in the small pagodas and write poetry.
After the Forbidden city, I didn't feel like walking and wouldn't take a cab, so I got myself a rickshaw to take me back through the hutongs. The hutong districts are old areas of Beijing that are filled with twisting, narrow alleyways and traditional courtyard houses. They are full of charm and are really an example of living history.
That evening, I went to see the Chinese National Acrobatic Troupe. First, I was surprised that they were all children. The performance they were putting on was of the "#1 top class - stars of the future". I really thought that I was seeing the training school perform and was disappointed. Some of the tricks were quite impressive - my favorite was when 12 girls rode in circles on one bicycle. After the show, I asked my driver when the adults perform. He was confused. We finally worked it out to communicate that the performers are fired when they hit 20. They are all children. During the show, there was an emphasis on particular performers being "so young aged", or "as graceful as a falling snowflake and as delicate as tender flower." I guess youth is the big attraction in acrobats in China. All of the 21 and over performers must join Cirque du Soleil.
For pictures, see http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Beijing
Monday, September 10, 2007
Thursday, September 6, 2007
TransMongolian Railroad
First off, the train left Moscow on August 28 at 9:30pm local time and pulled in to Beijing's Main Train Station (there's also a West station) on September 3 at 2:30pm local time (5 hours ahead of Moscow). That is 5 and a half days. On a train. Trapped in a space made up of tiny little sleeping compartments, narrow halls, and minuscule (not to mention filthy) bathrooms. If you are at all claustrophobic, do not take this trip.
That said, I was locked in for the duration with an eclectic and interesting assortment of people - admittedly, most were drunk for the entire trip, but that added to the interest factor. I also passed through some of the most beautiful scenery that I have ever seen. The trip was an adventure, a wonder, and an experience that I am so glad to have had. That said, I would NEVER do it again! :)
Yes, the scenery was beautiful, but it also never ended. It just kept going - being gorgeous and interminable. The inmates got a little rambunctious. There was a water fight; singing; noodle-eating; experiments in chucking things out windows; itinerary exchanges; kissing (my swedish roommates met some very nice polish gentlemen); card playing; reading; drinking; drinking; drinking. Anything to pass the time. We generally didn't sleep more than 7 hours a night. Strange, you'd think that sleeping would be the way to make the time pass, but it seemed difficult to sleep with so many awake and partying people around.
I read 4 books, yes that's not very many for me, i was too lethargic to be bothered by the last couple of days. The most interesting was Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov which I had never actually read. Very strange. Very very strange. I wrote in my journal; stared out the window; planned my itinerary in China (I'd left it for the train deliberately); chatted with new friends; got drunk once and abstained for the remainder of the journey; contemplated life; learned to shower in a tiny (filthy) toilet stall using only a water bottle; and banged my psyche against the walls. I had recurring fantasies about getting out at one of the stops and catching a flight to Beijing. I went so far as to look up flight info in my TranSiberian Railway Lonely Planet Guide. It was possible.
At the end of it all, I never want to see a train again - with the full knowledge that I will be riding the iron rooster throughout China; and I am so glad that I went. I met people that I'll never forget, and saw things that might not exist in another ten years. I fully expect that if I repeat this trip in ten years, it'll be a vastly different experience. The days of eating dried fruit, bread, and hard boiled eggs, drinking instant coffee made with the water from the samovar, were all worth it.
Here are some excerpts from my journal:
August 29th 4pm - "I just ran into a couple I'd met in St Petersburg. Small world. They showed me around their 1st class compartment. Nice. 2 bunks, an armchair, and a SHOWER en suite. There is wood paneling in the hallway, etched glass on their door. They have plush mattresses. I should have paid the extra." Note: my compartment had 4 bunks and that was it - no armchair and definitely no shower.
August 30th 2pm - "I am so hungover. I miss Greg."
August 31st 11am - "I washed my hair in the sink and gave myself a manicure. Much better. Unfortunately, the food situation is a bit dire. I have eggs and potatoes and bread in the restaurant car; fruit, bread and soy jerky in my berth. That's it. I'm going to be seriously unbalanced when I get to Beijing."
August 31st 1pm - "Beautiful wood houses with pool cue chalk-blue shutters and panes. There are trees everywhere. Birch and fir. Some are starting to change colors. There are meadows with tall grasses and bursts of wildflowers. Streams and ponds. Marshes with pussy willows...It's so gorgeous - the land. However, it's over 100 degrees and full of mosquitos in the summer and it's buried in snow in the winter. Beauty is something I'll travel to see. Comfort is what I look for in a home."
September 1st 4pm - "The Swedish ladies seem to have gone the non-bathing, no-wet wipe route. They're starting to smell a bit ripe. Make that rank."
September 2nd 12:35am - "I think that we just crossed into Mongolia. We spent 3 hours at Naushki on the Russian side of the border. Now, it's the Mongolian border patrol's turn to inspect our passports and look us over. I think that we're not supposed to go to sleep 'til after we get done... I'm sleepy. All of the excitement (excursions to the shop, exercising on the platform, missing Swedish roommate who'd been dragged into customs by the Russian military) wore me out! Now, I just want to sleep."
September 2nd 9am - "We're just outside Ulan Baatar. I'm checking out the new Mongolian dining car. Yummy breakfast. Bread with soft butter and jam, an omelette that's scrambled egg with onion, juice and coffee. Perfect. So much better than the Russian car." Note: each country had its own restaurant car. The Russian car was the worst, as well as being with us the longest. I had the choice of bread & butter, olives, eggs (fried in about 1/2 a cup of oil in a metal plate which was also the serving dish), potatoes (see description of eggs), and that's it. The Mongolian car was the best, but was quite expensive. Really expensive - not cheap backpacker expensive. He wanted $25 for a set lunch menu. The Chinese car was free and good for meat eaters, I just enjoyed the rice with soy sauce.
September 2nd 12:30pm - "Mongolia is lovely. Rolling grasslands with herds everywhere. The herders might be on horseback, motorcycle or car. I'm still excited to see the occasional ger (yurt). Maybe in a few hours I'll be bored, but so far, this is a nice section of the trip."
September 2nd 3pm - "We just stopped at a station. I bought 'Russian ice cream' from an adorable little girl. So cute! I also bought king chips (odd) and 'Number One Most Softness tissues'. I skipped the surfing baby Buddha chocolate crisps."
Septermber 2nd 3:30pm - (written in Mongolian dining car) "I ordered rice and made the mistake of asking if he had soy sauce. He said yes. He then brought back my rice covered in meat chunks and broth. I shrieked, NO! and repeated soy sauce. He brought the bowl back with the meat still on, just now with ketchup squirted on top. Finally, I got him to understand that I don't want meat and he brought me back plain rice. I had that and coleslaw for lunch. Oh, and the ice cream. I'm still hungry, but that wasn't too bad."
September 2nd 5pm - "We've hit the Gobi. Huge dust clouds. My hair has turned to straw and my hands feel mummified. Maybe I should've waited 'til tomorrow for my big shower."
September 2nd 8:42pm - "Approaching Chinese border."
September 2nd 9:30pm - "Still on the Mongolian side of the border. I really need to pee and am not allowed...I'll hold it 'til 10, then I'm demanding a toilet."
September 3rd 1:39pm - "We were held up at the Chinese side of the border for 4 hours."
September 3rd 2:24pm - "I think we're here!!!" Note: we had arrived in Beijing. I was off that train like a shot. No dilly-dallying saying goodbye. I'd gotten the emails I wanted earlier. Now was the time to flee that mobile prison!
To learn more about the trip, please see my Picasa web album, TransMongolian Adventure at: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/TransMongolianAdventure
That said, I was locked in for the duration with an eclectic and interesting assortment of people - admittedly, most were drunk for the entire trip, but that added to the interest factor. I also passed through some of the most beautiful scenery that I have ever seen. The trip was an adventure, a wonder, and an experience that I am so glad to have had. That said, I would NEVER do it again! :)
Yes, the scenery was beautiful, but it also never ended. It just kept going - being gorgeous and interminable. The inmates got a little rambunctious. There was a water fight; singing; noodle-eating; experiments in chucking things out windows; itinerary exchanges; kissing (my swedish roommates met some very nice polish gentlemen); card playing; reading; drinking; drinking; drinking. Anything to pass the time. We generally didn't sleep more than 7 hours a night. Strange, you'd think that sleeping would be the way to make the time pass, but it seemed difficult to sleep with so many awake and partying people around.
I read 4 books, yes that's not very many for me, i was too lethargic to be bothered by the last couple of days. The most interesting was Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov which I had never actually read. Very strange. Very very strange. I wrote in my journal; stared out the window; planned my itinerary in China (I'd left it for the train deliberately); chatted with new friends; got drunk once and abstained for the remainder of the journey; contemplated life; learned to shower in a tiny (filthy) toilet stall using only a water bottle; and banged my psyche against the walls. I had recurring fantasies about getting out at one of the stops and catching a flight to Beijing. I went so far as to look up flight info in my TranSiberian Railway Lonely Planet Guide. It was possible.
At the end of it all, I never want to see a train again - with the full knowledge that I will be riding the iron rooster throughout China; and I am so glad that I went. I met people that I'll never forget, and saw things that might not exist in another ten years. I fully expect that if I repeat this trip in ten years, it'll be a vastly different experience. The days of eating dried fruit, bread, and hard boiled eggs, drinking instant coffee made with the water from the samovar, were all worth it.
Here are some excerpts from my journal:
August 29th 4pm - "I just ran into a couple I'd met in St Petersburg. Small world. They showed me around their 1st class compartment. Nice. 2 bunks, an armchair, and a SHOWER en suite. There is wood paneling in the hallway, etched glass on their door. They have plush mattresses. I should have paid the extra." Note: my compartment had 4 bunks and that was it - no armchair and definitely no shower.
August 30th 2pm - "I am so hungover. I miss Greg."
August 31st 11am - "I washed my hair in the sink and gave myself a manicure. Much better. Unfortunately, the food situation is a bit dire. I have eggs and potatoes and bread in the restaurant car; fruit, bread and soy jerky in my berth. That's it. I'm going to be seriously unbalanced when I get to Beijing."
August 31st 1pm - "Beautiful wood houses with pool cue chalk-blue shutters and panes. There are trees everywhere. Birch and fir. Some are starting to change colors. There are meadows with tall grasses and bursts of wildflowers. Streams and ponds. Marshes with pussy willows...It's so gorgeous - the land. However, it's over 100 degrees and full of mosquitos in the summer and it's buried in snow in the winter. Beauty is something I'll travel to see. Comfort is what I look for in a home."
September 1st 4pm - "The Swedish ladies seem to have gone the non-bathing, no-wet wipe route. They're starting to smell a bit ripe. Make that rank."
September 2nd 12:35am - "I think that we just crossed into Mongolia. We spent 3 hours at Naushki on the Russian side of the border. Now, it's the Mongolian border patrol's turn to inspect our passports and look us over. I think that we're not supposed to go to sleep 'til after we get done... I'm sleepy. All of the excitement (excursions to the shop, exercising on the platform, missing Swedish roommate who'd been dragged into customs by the Russian military) wore me out! Now, I just want to sleep."
September 2nd 9am - "We're just outside Ulan Baatar. I'm checking out the new Mongolian dining car. Yummy breakfast. Bread with soft butter and jam, an omelette that's scrambled egg with onion, juice and coffee. Perfect. So much better than the Russian car." Note: each country had its own restaurant car. The Russian car was the worst, as well as being with us the longest. I had the choice of bread & butter, olives, eggs (fried in about 1/2 a cup of oil in a metal plate which was also the serving dish), potatoes (see description of eggs), and that's it. The Mongolian car was the best, but was quite expensive. Really expensive - not cheap backpacker expensive. He wanted $25 for a set lunch menu. The Chinese car was free and good for meat eaters, I just enjoyed the rice with soy sauce.
September 2nd 12:30pm - "Mongolia is lovely. Rolling grasslands with herds everywhere. The herders might be on horseback, motorcycle or car. I'm still excited to see the occasional ger (yurt). Maybe in a few hours I'll be bored, but so far, this is a nice section of the trip."
September 2nd 3pm - "We just stopped at a station. I bought 'Russian ice cream' from an adorable little girl. So cute! I also bought king chips (odd) and 'Number One Most Softness tissues'. I skipped the surfing baby Buddha chocolate crisps."
Septermber 2nd 3:30pm - (written in Mongolian dining car) "I ordered rice and made the mistake of asking if he had soy sauce. He said yes. He then brought back my rice covered in meat chunks and broth. I shrieked, NO! and repeated soy sauce. He brought the bowl back with the meat still on, just now with ketchup squirted on top. Finally, I got him to understand that I don't want meat and he brought me back plain rice. I had that and coleslaw for lunch. Oh, and the ice cream. I'm still hungry, but that wasn't too bad."
September 2nd 5pm - "We've hit the Gobi. Huge dust clouds. My hair has turned to straw and my hands feel mummified. Maybe I should've waited 'til tomorrow for my big shower."
September 2nd 8:42pm - "Approaching Chinese border."
September 2nd 9:30pm - "Still on the Mongolian side of the border. I really need to pee and am not allowed...I'll hold it 'til 10, then I'm demanding a toilet."
September 3rd 1:39pm - "We were held up at the Chinese side of the border for 4 hours."
September 3rd 2:24pm - "I think we're here!!!" Note: we had arrived in Beijing. I was off that train like a shot. No dilly-dallying saying goodbye. I'd gotten the emails I wanted earlier. Now was the time to flee that mobile prison!
To learn more about the trip, please see my Picasa web album, TransMongolian Adventure at: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/TransMongolianAdventure
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Chores and the Banya
This was my last day in Moscow. First, I woke up at 7 (with the help of my alarm) to shower, pack, and check out of the hostel and still have time to get to the internet cafe and call Greg at a reasonable hour. I tried to shave time by taking the metro. That was a mistake! I ended up further from the internet cafe than my hostel was and trekked a bit to get back there. Oh well.
After getting my Greg fix, I went grocery shopping for the train trip. I know that the book (Lonely Planet) says that there is food available at every stop as well as a restaurant car on the train, but I am a little paranoid and decide to load up on fresh fruit, dried fruit, crackers, yogurt, pastries, nut bread, water, rum and vodka. Nothing like having the essentials covered. I was done with my shopping by 2pm and had plenty of time for a nice long trip to the Banya before my train left at 9:30.
Back at the hostel (they have a left luggage area), I dumped my groceries and checked with the hostel staff to find out what I'd need at the Sanduny banya. Note: the banya is the Russian baths - the sauna and birch branch whipping and nude lounging spot. I was told by the two women working at the time that they never went to the banya in the city. It's too expensive and not very good. Harrumph. Not having the choice of going outside the city, I pressed on to ask what I should bring. They said, "oh, nothing. They'll have anything you need there."
I took the scenic route, since I had so much spare time, and got to the baths (Moscow's oldest) by 3. Right away, I started off feeling a bit wary and cheated. The only English language info available is a sign saying that the price is 600 rubles. Then, the woman at the ticket booth wouldn't let me in for less than 1000. Nice. If she was cheating me, that sucks. If not, they need new signs.
Well, I paid the 1000 ($40 US) and went in to the lounge room. There, I was given a key to a locker, assigned to a booth and was told that I'd need to pay to rent sandals and a towel. There were 4 types of towels listed. I splurged and went for the sheet (100 r). Then, the woman managed enough English to try to sell me a massage. The cheapest was the birch branch (1200 p) "massage", so I picked that one. I was assigned a burly, butch looking masseuse who spoke about 10 words of English. She took me in the large bathing room and told me to wait. I waited. About 20 minutes. In the main room, there is a Japanese wood tub with cold water, two Jacuzzis with cold water, various wooden benches and coat racks and about 5 open shower stalls. Very spare, and not at all luxurious. Think concrete walls and floors. I stood around in my towel feeling increasingly annoyed. Finally, masseuse lady came back and told me to sit in the sauna for 2 minutes with my sheet wrapped over my head. I waited in there about 15 minutes and she never came back. The sauna is a large two level room. The stove is on ground level and is surrounded by a rising plane of tiles. There are stairs leading to the wooden loft with benches surrounding the area and a wood floor in the center. There are two small windows for ventilation. Oddly, the point is to get heated as quickly as possible, so I saw more naked people in the bathing area than actually in the sauna.
I finally got out and took a tepid shower then splashed myself with cold water. I waited some more. Then I got back in the sauna, got out and splashed myself with cold water, repeat. After about 45 minutes, I was BORED and confused. I looked around for the soap, product, whatever was offered and found a nice little layout of product on a towel on a bench offering products with labels in Russian, English, and French. Nice, at least they do something well! I washed my face and applied a glob of coffee body scrub (very good, by the way), only to realize that I had just helped myself to someone's private stash. Whoops! Apparently, you're supposed to bring your own. The girl was very nice about the whole thing, but still, quite embarrassing.
I went out to get some water and was denied water and gestured to get back to the sauna. The masseuse came in and told me to lay on the floor of the sauna. Problem, the floor was full of naked Russian women with sheets over themselves. There was plenty of space between bodies, so I asked them to please make space for me. No response. I asked what I was supposed to be doing. No response. The masseuse made me wait in the bathing room. I asked for help and/or to be told what was going on. No response. I called them all a bunch of bitches, suddenly they all spoke English! Amazing.
After an hour and a half, I had not been massaged, had not received water, had not been told what the hell was going on and was pissed! I also started to think about last minute prep for my train. I decided to skip the massage and got the hell out of there. Of course, I was still charged 300 rubels for the birch branches for the massage I never received, and 100 r for the water I never received. I finally learned that this was meant to be a 3 hour "very relaxing" experience that is quite ritualistic. I was told that I really should have come with a Russian friend. Hah! They need to set up a stand selling those.
That was pretty much it. Up until my "treat-myself" experience at the banya, I'd been feeling rather fond of Moscow. I'd finally gotten a handle on the required lack of facial expression, and vague impression of disdain that the true Muscovite gives off and was really enjoying the pastries and blinis, but now, I was ready to get on the train, and meet some people who actually smile and seem happy that you are giving them a great deal of money. Goodbye, Russia!
After getting my Greg fix, I went grocery shopping for the train trip. I know that the book (Lonely Planet) says that there is food available at every stop as well as a restaurant car on the train, but I am a little paranoid and decide to load up on fresh fruit, dried fruit, crackers, yogurt, pastries, nut bread, water, rum and vodka. Nothing like having the essentials covered. I was done with my shopping by 2pm and had plenty of time for a nice long trip to the Banya before my train left at 9:30.
Back at the hostel (they have a left luggage area), I dumped my groceries and checked with the hostel staff to find out what I'd need at the Sanduny banya. Note: the banya is the Russian baths - the sauna and birch branch whipping and nude lounging spot. I was told by the two women working at the time that they never went to the banya in the city. It's too expensive and not very good. Harrumph. Not having the choice of going outside the city, I pressed on to ask what I should bring. They said, "oh, nothing. They'll have anything you need there."
I took the scenic route, since I had so much spare time, and got to the baths (Moscow's oldest) by 3. Right away, I started off feeling a bit wary and cheated. The only English language info available is a sign saying that the price is 600 rubles. Then, the woman at the ticket booth wouldn't let me in for less than 1000. Nice. If she was cheating me, that sucks. If not, they need new signs.
Well, I paid the 1000 ($40 US) and went in to the lounge room. There, I was given a key to a locker, assigned to a booth and was told that I'd need to pay to rent sandals and a towel. There were 4 types of towels listed. I splurged and went for the sheet (100 r). Then, the woman managed enough English to try to sell me a massage. The cheapest was the birch branch (1200 p) "massage", so I picked that one. I was assigned a burly, butch looking masseuse who spoke about 10 words of English. She took me in the large bathing room and told me to wait. I waited. About 20 minutes. In the main room, there is a Japanese wood tub with cold water, two Jacuzzis with cold water, various wooden benches and coat racks and about 5 open shower stalls. Very spare, and not at all luxurious. Think concrete walls and floors. I stood around in my towel feeling increasingly annoyed. Finally, masseuse lady came back and told me to sit in the sauna for 2 minutes with my sheet wrapped over my head. I waited in there about 15 minutes and she never came back. The sauna is a large two level room. The stove is on ground level and is surrounded by a rising plane of tiles. There are stairs leading to the wooden loft with benches surrounding the area and a wood floor in the center. There are two small windows for ventilation. Oddly, the point is to get heated as quickly as possible, so I saw more naked people in the bathing area than actually in the sauna.
I finally got out and took a tepid shower then splashed myself with cold water. I waited some more. Then I got back in the sauna, got out and splashed myself with cold water, repeat. After about 45 minutes, I was BORED and confused. I looked around for the soap, product, whatever was offered and found a nice little layout of product on a towel on a bench offering products with labels in Russian, English, and French. Nice, at least they do something well! I washed my face and applied a glob of coffee body scrub (very good, by the way), only to realize that I had just helped myself to someone's private stash. Whoops! Apparently, you're supposed to bring your own. The girl was very nice about the whole thing, but still, quite embarrassing.
I went out to get some water and was denied water and gestured to get back to the sauna. The masseuse came in and told me to lay on the floor of the sauna. Problem, the floor was full of naked Russian women with sheets over themselves. There was plenty of space between bodies, so I asked them to please make space for me. No response. I asked what I was supposed to be doing. No response. The masseuse made me wait in the bathing room. I asked for help and/or to be told what was going on. No response. I called them all a bunch of bitches, suddenly they all spoke English! Amazing.
After an hour and a half, I had not been massaged, had not received water, had not been told what the hell was going on and was pissed! I also started to think about last minute prep for my train. I decided to skip the massage and got the hell out of there. Of course, I was still charged 300 rubels for the birch branches for the massage I never received, and 100 r for the water I never received. I finally learned that this was meant to be a 3 hour "very relaxing" experience that is quite ritualistic. I was told that I really should have come with a Russian friend. Hah! They need to set up a stand selling those.
That was pretty much it. Up until my "treat-myself" experience at the banya, I'd been feeling rather fond of Moscow. I'd finally gotten a handle on the required lack of facial expression, and vague impression of disdain that the true Muscovite gives off and was really enjoying the pastries and blinis, but now, I was ready to get on the train, and meet some people who actually smile and seem happy that you are giving them a great deal of money. Goodbye, Russia!
Stary Arbat, Egyptians & Capoeira (not)
On my third day in Moscow, I'd taken care of the most "must-do" tourist crap, and had some time to relax. I decided to wander over to Stary Arbat, the Haight street of Moscow. I made my way there through the Garden Ring, happening upon an incredible 2 block long outdoor exhibit of nature photography. It was unbelievable. Pandas, horses, elephants, sharks, monkeys, polar bears. If it moved, there was an unbelievable photo of it. I was quite humbled by the exhibition. I think I need a better camera. :)
Well, I made it to Arbat and found the usual array of portrait and caricature artists, as well as a large number of tattoo shops, cafes, street kids, and street artists (musicians, jugglers, etc). At one point, I had climbed up on a rather unsteady pile of bricks in the hope of getting a better picture. I don't know if the picture is any good, but I got a henna tattoo out of it. I was helped down by none other than an Egyptian from Luxor. After I'd greeted him with "sabah el kher" (bright the day/good morning), he insisted that I sit and talk with him for a little while. He asked if I wanted a henna tattoo, I said no, he said for free, I said sure, why not! Sam comes to Moscow every summer to work Stary Arbat as a henna artist. At home, in Luxor, he co-owns three spice shops with his brother. I forgot to ask, but the spice shops or the temp tattooing must pay well to be able to get out of the country and travel. Oh, he was also the first Egyptian I'd met who loves our President Bush. He admires that Bush is so strong. It turns out that Sam is a Coptic Christian and he agrees with Bush that Muslims are very bad people! He said that Hilary definitely would not be strong enough to be the President, and supports "a senator, what is his name?" Funny.
After saying goodbye to my Egyptian friend, with a parting invitation to meet him at 8 when he quit for the day, I continued down the street admiring the universality of the street punk mentality. There was a whole crew in goth and punk garb hanging out by a wall with loads of graffiti, smoking something, maybe tobacco, maybe not. I decided against getting a Russian tattoo, and had to tell various people with signboards that I would not be visiting their fine establishment. I stopped to listen to bad singing and amazingly good guitar playing. Of course, there were three people spinning poi. The global fire spinning phenomenum is hysterical!
That took the afternoon. I stopped off for one more serving of caviar blini and then went back to my hostel to prepare for....capoeira!! I was sooo excited. I'd googled Moscow Capoeira and found the Inbi Center which has a few global locations. Transcendental center for global understanding. Very hippy-like and in Moscow, hosting Axe Capoeira. I was thrilled. I asked the girl at Godzilla's to call the number for me and find out if/when they were having an all-level class. Being Russian, she said no. Nice. I called myself and lucked out (seemingly) when the man who answered the phone spoke English. I asked if there was a class soon, and he answered, yes - at 8:30. Wow! I verified, tonight? He said, yes. I asked if it was at the location given on the website, his English wasn't up to it. We hung up.
Well, I was on the metro by 7:30 (it was only 2 stops down the blue line), and looking for the place by 7:45. I had an address, and an intersection. from there, it was a mystery. I managed to find the place in an off-street courtyard, behind a playground, by 8:10. I peeked in the workout space and saw a bunch of women doing yoga. Cool! I want to do yoga! Well, I settled in to wait for capoeira.
After what seemed a very long time and a collection of new mosquito bites, I finally found someone who spoke English to tell me that it was now 9:15. Yoga was still going. When asked about capoeira, he told me that TriYoga shares space with the Inbi Center and that Inbi wouldn't have the space for another 3 days. Great. Either the guy on the phone meant that there would be a class on 8/30/2007 (this was the 27th), or tonight's class was at a different location. I headed home in defeat.
But wait! There's a sushi restaurant! At least I can drown my sorrows in sake and/or bury them in spinach salad. Nope. I was refused admittance by a caucasian Russian man dressed in a samurai costume. Remember, I was in workout gear. In Russia, women wear full makeup/hair/outfit/torture shoes to go out. I was told that the restaurant was full despite the clear view of many empty tables. Ouch. Blocked by a guy in a Samurai outfit. That was it. I gave up and went to bed early.
For pictures, please visit http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow
Well, I made it to Arbat and found the usual array of portrait and caricature artists, as well as a large number of tattoo shops, cafes, street kids, and street artists (musicians, jugglers, etc). At one point, I had climbed up on a rather unsteady pile of bricks in the hope of getting a better picture. I don't know if the picture is any good, but I got a henna tattoo out of it. I was helped down by none other than an Egyptian from Luxor. After I'd greeted him with "sabah el kher" (bright the day/good morning), he insisted that I sit and talk with him for a little while. He asked if I wanted a henna tattoo, I said no, he said for free, I said sure, why not! Sam comes to Moscow every summer to work Stary Arbat as a henna artist. At home, in Luxor, he co-owns three spice shops with his brother. I forgot to ask, but the spice shops or the temp tattooing must pay well to be able to get out of the country and travel. Oh, he was also the first Egyptian I'd met who loves our President Bush. He admires that Bush is so strong. It turns out that Sam is a Coptic Christian and he agrees with Bush that Muslims are very bad people! He said that Hilary definitely would not be strong enough to be the President, and supports "a senator, what is his name?" Funny.
After saying goodbye to my Egyptian friend, with a parting invitation to meet him at 8 when he quit for the day, I continued down the street admiring the universality of the street punk mentality. There was a whole crew in goth and punk garb hanging out by a wall with loads of graffiti, smoking something, maybe tobacco, maybe not. I decided against getting a Russian tattoo, and had to tell various people with signboards that I would not be visiting their fine establishment. I stopped to listen to bad singing and amazingly good guitar playing. Of course, there were three people spinning poi. The global fire spinning phenomenum is hysterical!
That took the afternoon. I stopped off for one more serving of caviar blini and then went back to my hostel to prepare for....capoeira!! I was sooo excited. I'd googled Moscow Capoeira and found the Inbi Center which has a few global locations. Transcendental center for global understanding. Very hippy-like and in Moscow, hosting Axe Capoeira. I was thrilled. I asked the girl at Godzilla's to call the number for me and find out if/when they were having an all-level class. Being Russian, she said no. Nice. I called myself and lucked out (seemingly) when the man who answered the phone spoke English. I asked if there was a class soon, and he answered, yes - at 8:30. Wow! I verified, tonight? He said, yes. I asked if it was at the location given on the website, his English wasn't up to it. We hung up.
Well, I was on the metro by 7:30 (it was only 2 stops down the blue line), and looking for the place by 7:45. I had an address, and an intersection. from there, it was a mystery. I managed to find the place in an off-street courtyard, behind a playground, by 8:10. I peeked in the workout space and saw a bunch of women doing yoga. Cool! I want to do yoga! Well, I settled in to wait for capoeira.
After what seemed a very long time and a collection of new mosquito bites, I finally found someone who spoke English to tell me that it was now 9:15. Yoga was still going. When asked about capoeira, he told me that TriYoga shares space with the Inbi Center and that Inbi wouldn't have the space for another 3 days. Great. Either the guy on the phone meant that there would be a class on 8/30/2007 (this was the 27th), or tonight's class was at a different location. I headed home in defeat.
But wait! There's a sushi restaurant! At least I can drown my sorrows in sake and/or bury them in spinach salad. Nope. I was refused admittance by a caucasian Russian man dressed in a samurai costume. Remember, I was in workout gear. In Russia, women wear full makeup/hair/outfit/torture shoes to go out. I was told that the restaurant was full despite the clear view of many empty tables. Ouch. Blocked by a guy in a Samurai outfit. That was it. I gave up and went to bed early.
For pictures, please visit http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow
Monday, September 3, 2007
Flea Market, Cemetary, Convent, Boat trip, Caviar blini & the hunt for Skype
Sunday was another big day. I started off the day with invitations from two different groups to team up with them for sightseeing. Unfortunately, both duos were still passed out when I was ready to hit the streets, so I made my way alone. First, I wanted to visit Novodevichy Convent & Cemetary. The Convent was supposed to be amazing, and was the place where Peter I locked up his half-sister after she tried to over-throw him. The adjacent cemetary is the latter-day home of many of Russia's greatest luminaries.
I took the metro, arriving at Sportivnaya station with no problem. Then, I had a choice: exit to the right or the left. I chose right and ended up in the biggest flea market I've ever seen. Seriously, there were tour buses that had brought Russians in to do their shopping from all over the area. No wonder Russian women are so stylish! They have these amazing places to buy $10 knock-off Chloe purses, etc. It was tempting, but all I had to do was remember that I'd have to carry it, and I was able to resist buying anything. Unfortunately, I was lost. There were no handy signs saying, "this way to the cemetary". Russia is one of the least tourist-friendly places I have ever been. I finally asked two bus drivers which way to the convent, convulsing them with laughter. I'm guessing that they'd been drinking. With their gestures, I did end up finding the place.
Wow, I entered the grounds of the cemetary first. Amazing. Check out my pictures. I lost hope quickly of actually finding any of the famous graves, since there are thousands, and there are no signs reading "-----> this way to Chekhov!" Instead, I wandered around enjoying the individual gravestones, happening upon Popov by chance. After I'd enjoyed the peace for an hour or so, I started making my way out when I ran into a Japanese tour group. Hah! They led me straight to Molotov and Chekhov.
With that glow of success, I made my way to the Convent. I had assumed that I'd catch a bite to eat there. Nope. Like I said, Russia. Anywhere else in the world, where there's a tourist site there will also be restaurants, food kiosks, soda stands, etc. Not in Russia. Nothing.
Well, I still wanted to explore the convent, even hungry and thirsty. I bought my ticket and even sprung for the photo pass. I learned that this is actually still a working convent. Go figure. The chapels were beautiful. The icons were ornate. I was wearing my bandana (with respect this time) and all seemed well. Then, I was evicted by a nun. I was in a chapel, taking a photo, when a nun came at me. I showed her my photo pass. Apparently, that's no good in this particular chapel, which would have been fine if someone had told me (all other chapels, photos are fine). I said sorry. She yelled. I checked my camera to see if the one shot I'd gotten was any good (no). She thought I was taking another picture. I was tossed from the church. Wow! Nuns really are scary!
I refused to let a crazy (or deeply spiritual depending on your point of view) woman ruin my day, and continued viewing the convent grounds. Then, I went off on a serious search for food. I'd had cornflakes and a banana at 9am. It was now 3:30pm and I was STARVING. Wouldn't you know. Nothing. I took the metro to the Kremlin area and instead of heading straight for Sbarro at the Garden, I stupidly looked for a restaurant. Nope. I also had a boat trip on my itinerary for the day and decided to combine the two by crossing over to the little island in the Moscow River. I crossed a bridge to find the 2 restaurants nearby both closed. I did find the boat launch though and decided to settle for mini-croissants and a water on the boat and lunch afterward.
My river cruise was refreshing, and the croissants revived me enough to fortify me for a trip back to Kuznesky Most area for a caviar blini. Yum. Seriously, I LOVE salmon egg blinis with sour cream. They are so, so good. By the way, for those not in the know, I figure that if I eat chicken eggs, logically, I can eat fish eggs. That's how it fits in with my vegetarian diet.
After blinis, I determined to find an internet cafe. Armed with the Lonely Planet, I found a giant nightclub/gaming den, with no Skype. I found an internet club whose only advert of existence was a tiny brass plaque in Cyrillic lettering on the inside doorway of a building under construction. No Skype. I found an expensive Italian sidewalk restaurant where an internet cafe once was - that was on an awesome little pedestrian street filled with sidewalk cafes. Then, I entered the underground mall. At Okhotny Ryad metro station, if you continue down past the subway level, you'll discover three floors of underground shopping. On the very bottom floor is Time Online, the one internet cafe with Skype, Yahoo! Messenger, MSN Messenger, etc. in all of Moscow. For 100 ruples an hour, I was able to call home.
Successful, I stopped for Mexican food and then called it a night. Cheese quesadillas in Russia are a little odd, but still good. The strawberry salad was even less authentic, but delicious! Belly full, I toddled off to bed, footsore, but happy.
For pictures, please see: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow
I took the metro, arriving at Sportivnaya station with no problem. Then, I had a choice: exit to the right or the left. I chose right and ended up in the biggest flea market I've ever seen. Seriously, there were tour buses that had brought Russians in to do their shopping from all over the area. No wonder Russian women are so stylish! They have these amazing places to buy $10 knock-off Chloe purses, etc. It was tempting, but all I had to do was remember that I'd have to carry it, and I was able to resist buying anything. Unfortunately, I was lost. There were no handy signs saying, "this way to the cemetary". Russia is one of the least tourist-friendly places I have ever been. I finally asked two bus drivers which way to the convent, convulsing them with laughter. I'm guessing that they'd been drinking. With their gestures, I did end up finding the place.
Wow, I entered the grounds of the cemetary first. Amazing. Check out my pictures. I lost hope quickly of actually finding any of the famous graves, since there are thousands, and there are no signs reading "-----> this way to Chekhov!" Instead, I wandered around enjoying the individual gravestones, happening upon Popov by chance. After I'd enjoyed the peace for an hour or so, I started making my way out when I ran into a Japanese tour group. Hah! They led me straight to Molotov and Chekhov.
With that glow of success, I made my way to the Convent. I had assumed that I'd catch a bite to eat there. Nope. Like I said, Russia. Anywhere else in the world, where there's a tourist site there will also be restaurants, food kiosks, soda stands, etc. Not in Russia. Nothing.
Well, I still wanted to explore the convent, even hungry and thirsty. I bought my ticket and even sprung for the photo pass. I learned that this is actually still a working convent. Go figure. The chapels were beautiful. The icons were ornate. I was wearing my bandana (with respect this time) and all seemed well. Then, I was evicted by a nun. I was in a chapel, taking a photo, when a nun came at me. I showed her my photo pass. Apparently, that's no good in this particular chapel, which would have been fine if someone had told me (all other chapels, photos are fine). I said sorry. She yelled. I checked my camera to see if the one shot I'd gotten was any good (no). She thought I was taking another picture. I was tossed from the church. Wow! Nuns really are scary!
I refused to let a crazy (or deeply spiritual depending on your point of view) woman ruin my day, and continued viewing the convent grounds. Then, I went off on a serious search for food. I'd had cornflakes and a banana at 9am. It was now 3:30pm and I was STARVING. Wouldn't you know. Nothing. I took the metro to the Kremlin area and instead of heading straight for Sbarro at the Garden, I stupidly looked for a restaurant. Nope. I also had a boat trip on my itinerary for the day and decided to combine the two by crossing over to the little island in the Moscow River. I crossed a bridge to find the 2 restaurants nearby both closed. I did find the boat launch though and decided to settle for mini-croissants and a water on the boat and lunch afterward.
My river cruise was refreshing, and the croissants revived me enough to fortify me for a trip back to Kuznesky Most area for a caviar blini. Yum. Seriously, I LOVE salmon egg blinis with sour cream. They are so, so good. By the way, for those not in the know, I figure that if I eat chicken eggs, logically, I can eat fish eggs. That's how it fits in with my vegetarian diet.
After blinis, I determined to find an internet cafe. Armed with the Lonely Planet, I found a giant nightclub/gaming den, with no Skype. I found an internet club whose only advert of existence was a tiny brass plaque in Cyrillic lettering on the inside doorway of a building under construction. No Skype. I found an expensive Italian sidewalk restaurant where an internet cafe once was - that was on an awesome little pedestrian street filled with sidewalk cafes. Then, I entered the underground mall. At Okhotny Ryad metro station, if you continue down past the subway level, you'll discover three floors of underground shopping. On the very bottom floor is Time Online, the one internet cafe with Skype, Yahoo! Messenger, MSN Messenger, etc. in all of Moscow. For 100 ruples an hour, I was able to call home.
Successful, I stopped for Mexican food and then called it a night. Cheese quesadillas in Russia are a little odd, but still good. The strawberry salad was even less authentic, but delicious! Belly full, I toddled off to bed, footsore, but happy.
For pictures, please see: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow
The Beat-Down & Jagganath
My nap was interrupted by a workman climbing a ladder outside my curtainless window and getting an eyeful. It was hot! That excitement got me up and back on the streets by 8ish. I wandered for awhile searching out internet cafes (no luck) and a vegetarian restaurant called Jagganath. Oh, strange aside, by this point, I'd taught myself to read the Cyrillic alphabet by sounding out signs for MacDonald's; PizzaHut; etc. I don't think that I'll retain the knack, but it was quite useful.
Anyway, while looking for Jagganath in the nightclub/bar area near Kuznetsky Most, I turned a corner and happened upon a vicious beating. A car squealed to a halt right in front of me. I smiled, thinking it was a young man showing off his parking skills. Nope. In another second, 3 young men burst from the car. In two seconds, they were running toward a group made up of three young couples dressed for a night on the town (the women were in tiny dresses with high heels). One attacker threw a bottle while still running toward the group. The women started screaming. A second attacker kept hold of his bottle and used it as a club, taking down the apparent main target of the attack. I say that he must have been the target because as soon as he was on the ground, all three guys started kicking and hitting him while he was already unconscious. They only broke off to take on his two friends. At the apex of the event, the women were even involved, beating the heads and shoulders of the people attacking their dates. The attack lasted about 2 minutes. During this time, I had quietly scooted up the block, and stopped to take some photos (yes, I know that I'm a ghoul). There were also about 10 men standing around watching events unfold, and making not the slightest move to intervene. After the beating stopped, the two groups yelled at each other in Russian, while the downed man's girlfriend rushed to cradle his head in her lap. Then, the attackers pealed out. I lingered for a good 10 minutes. No one approached offering help. The police didn't arrive. The beaten guy didn't get up. Finally, I left feeling much less optimistic of the outcome of any cries for help I might make while in Russia. When I described the incident to the hostel worker on duty that night, she assured me that oh yes, people mind their own business in Russia and this was probably mafia related. Cheers.
I did finally find Jagganath that evening and had a good meal of tofu and vegetables in my newest cult-run veggie restaurant. I was especially excited by the discovery of a vegetarian shop onsite selling fake sausage. Yum. Mostly though, I was so unnerved by the beat-down I'd witnessed that I gave up my vague plan of a night out and was back at the hostel by 11. I noticed on the way home that the streets were pretty quiet and most restaurants were closing. Moscow is not the city that St Petersburg is. Despite the warm summer night, people still tend to go home early.
I settled into the hostel, and decided to go to bed and get an early start the next day. My two English roommates (girls from Brighton), woke me up stumbling in at 2am from the Hard Rock Cafe, but I was still up and out by 9am.
For pictures, see http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow
Anyway, while looking for Jagganath in the nightclub/bar area near Kuznetsky Most, I turned a corner and happened upon a vicious beating. A car squealed to a halt right in front of me. I smiled, thinking it was a young man showing off his parking skills. Nope. In another second, 3 young men burst from the car. In two seconds, they were running toward a group made up of three young couples dressed for a night on the town (the women were in tiny dresses with high heels). One attacker threw a bottle while still running toward the group. The women started screaming. A second attacker kept hold of his bottle and used it as a club, taking down the apparent main target of the attack. I say that he must have been the target because as soon as he was on the ground, all three guys started kicking and hitting him while he was already unconscious. They only broke off to take on his two friends. At the apex of the event, the women were even involved, beating the heads and shoulders of the people attacking their dates. The attack lasted about 2 minutes. During this time, I had quietly scooted up the block, and stopped to take some photos (yes, I know that I'm a ghoul). There were also about 10 men standing around watching events unfold, and making not the slightest move to intervene. After the beating stopped, the two groups yelled at each other in Russian, while the downed man's girlfriend rushed to cradle his head in her lap. Then, the attackers pealed out. I lingered for a good 10 minutes. No one approached offering help. The police didn't arrive. The beaten guy didn't get up. Finally, I left feeling much less optimistic of the outcome of any cries for help I might make while in Russia. When I described the incident to the hostel worker on duty that night, she assured me that oh yes, people mind their own business in Russia and this was probably mafia related. Cheers.
I did finally find Jagganath that evening and had a good meal of tofu and vegetables in my newest cult-run veggie restaurant. I was especially excited by the discovery of a vegetarian shop onsite selling fake sausage. Yum. Mostly though, I was so unnerved by the beat-down I'd witnessed that I gave up my vague plan of a night out and was back at the hostel by 11. I noticed on the way home that the streets were pretty quiet and most restaurants were closing. Moscow is not the city that St Petersburg is. Despite the warm summer night, people still tend to go home early.
I settled into the hostel, and decided to go to bed and get an early start the next day. My two English roommates (girls from Brighton), woke me up stumbling in at 2am from the Hard Rock Cafe, but I was still up and out by 9am.
For pictures, see http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow
Moscow morning - St Basil's; Lenin's remains; the Kremlin
I arrived in Moscow at 7am. After struggling through the throng of people at the station and through the little market in copyright infringed items outside of the station, I made my way to the Metro. Like a good backpacker, I scrimped and skipped a nice easy cab, choosing (after a night train) to introduce myself to the wonders of Moscow's metro system. I have to say, NICE! Lenin decided that since the workers would be spending a lot of time in transit, the metro stations should be beautiful and the trains should never be more than 2 minutes apart. Wow. I changed trains once and saw 4-5 stations on my way to my stop. Each was gorgeous. Wood ceilings, stained glass, chandeliers, marble pillars, carvings. Unbelievable. Not to mention, my entire time in Moscow, I never waited more than 2.5 minutes for a train. I know this because at every platform, there's a digital clock that tells the time on one side, and on the other side has a stopwatch that starts ticking off the seconds after a train departs until the next one comes. I am so jealous.
I arrived at Godzilla's (my hostel) by 8am and was able to take a shower and dump my pack, but was told that I couldn't check in until after 2pm. Instead of sitting in the (quite nice) lounge and numbing my brain with their excellent digital television, I decided to beat the rush to St Basil's and the Kremlin. Neither of these attractions opens before 10am (Russians do like to sleep in), so I had high hopes. Moscow's historic district is laid out like a wheel. The Kremlin & Red Square are the center and there are major streets that shoot out like spikes (on one side as bridges over the river). This is bound at one point by the Garden ring - a park that circles the Kremlin from either bank of the river, about 10 blocks out. There is a second ring in another 5-6 blocks. I was staying just outside of the Garden ring, so a quick walk took me to the center.
There, I found, St Basil's!!! Amazing! Truly a fabulous thing to happen upon from the opposite end of Red Square. Two factoids: one, St Basil's actually only refers to the northeastern chapel of Pokrovsky Cathedral; two, Krasnaya Ploshchad (Red Square) originally meant Beautiful Square. It was only in the 20th century that krasny took on the dual meaning of beautiful and red.
Back to the narrative. I duly admired the cathedral, going so far as to climb over a Russian army placed barrier to get an unobstructed photo, with no other people in the shot. Though, Moscow doesn't seem to have nearly as many tourists as St Petersburg, and Russia really doesn't have very many tourists at all. Gee, I wonder why (pain in the butt to get a visa, need to register your visa in every city, etc. etc.). Digression aside, I now believe that there are two jobs created for soldiers and ex-soldiers. Current members of the army have the extremely important job of setting up barriers for no apparent reason and then moving those barriers for no apparent reason - barriers around nothing, blocking noone - very odd. Ex-soldiers get to renovate buildings. Almost every historic (or rebuilt once-historic) building is currently being renovated. Luckily, they'll drape the "restored" or for all I know, newly created "historic" area in tarps printed/painted with a design of how it'll look when completed, so that the tourists don't really miss anything. Funny.
After photographing St Basil's, I decided to hit Lenin's tomb next. First, I queued for and bought my ticket for the Kremlin, then dropped off my camera at the left luggage area, then queued for my momentary descent into grotesquely morbid curiosity. After a 30 minute wait, I was ushered into the granite tomb holding the earthly remains of Vladimir Ilych Lenin, despite his request to be buried next to his mother in St Petersburg. The guards there do not have any vestige of a sense of humour. One Russian toddler asked his papa a question while entering the tomb and was emphatically "shhhhhh"ed. You'd think they'd be a bit more approving of a father bringing his small son to worship at the shrine! The line moves past the glass enclosed corpse fairly quickly. The room is also very dark, so it was hard to get a good look. While lingering trying to see if Lenin's fingertips were a little brownish (yes), I let a gap open between me and the person preceding me. I was hurried along by a man with a machine gun. Though, really, would they allow soldiers to have live ammunition so close to the revered mummy? Not unless that is bullet-proof glass. Then, while trying to get one last look at Lenin's head, I fell down a couple of stairs. Whoops! Those were hard to see in the dark. I wonder how many people break a leg in Lenin's tomb every year?
After my return to the world, I went through the mini-graveyard outside the tomb and had a chance to stand over Joseph Stalin. I think that standing at Stalin's grave, staring at a bust of his mustachioed face, was creepier than looking at Lenin's actual body. Strange.
Then, it was off to the Kremlin! The Kremlin is actually quite a small enclosed area with a few government buildings and a few churches, a huge bell that has never rung, and a giant cannon that has never fired. All in all, a bit of a dud. I decided not to pay the separate entrance fee to see the Armoury, thinking that I'd catch enough gold, jewels, and icons in the rest of Russia. This might have been a mistake, given that I went without seeing one single Faberge egg in all of Russia. I'll have to wait for an exhibit to visit San Francisco.
Mostly, I just wandered around the grounds. I tried to approach the Senate, the current Presidential offices, but was waved off by armed guards. The oddest part of wandering through a still-in-use-by-the-government tourist spot was the near-constant flow of official black sedans with tinted windows and one blue flashing light on top. It was fun to watch people get in and out of the cars. Of course, I didn't recognize any of them. I did go in and see a temporary exhibit of Cartier's jewelry c. 1920-1970. A good display of conspicuous consumption. My favorite was a "necklace" of two alligators crusted in diamonds. Cool.
I entered a few of the chapels and the Patriarch's Palace. I also experienced my first smile and look of approval from a Russian woman. I was extremely confused until I realized that my bandana (worn to keep the sun off the top of my head) was mistakenly thought to be a gesture of respect toward the Orthodox Church. Nice.
My favorite quote of the day came when I asked a fellow tourist what chapel she was leaving. She paused and answered, "The Church of the Demolition of the Robe". Hah! At some point (400 ADish +/-) a Byzantine Emperor came back to Constantinople with the robe/veil of the Virgin, and declared a feast day to celebrate. This day is the "Deposition of the Robe". Definitely a funny, lost-in-translation moment.
After I'd had my fill of icons and wood carvings, I headed over to the Russian Historical Museum. There, I really got an eyeful of treasure in their temporary exhibit. Royal artifacts. Nice. The rest of the museum is a history of Russia from Prehistoric times to the end of the 19th century. Oddly, it stops short of going into modern history, and by modern, I mean the last 100 years. A fellow traveler was specifically hoping to find loads of Soviet museums and history in Moscow, only to come up short. Current Russia is really deemphasizing its Communist past, instead choosing to focus on more distant Russian history.
I also had the fun of being yelled at for taking a photo of an entryway. In Moscow, all sites charge an admission fee and a separate photo fee. If you don't have a ticket to show the proctors, you'll get told off for taking a picture. The result of this is, most people have crappy pics from Moscow, a result of sneaking the odd shot or two.
By now, it was 4pm. I was exhausted and headed back out to my hostel to check in and take a nap. That's a record of my first morning/day in Moscow. I think you'll agree that I was quite productive.
To see my pictures, please visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow
I arrived at Godzilla's (my hostel) by 8am and was able to take a shower and dump my pack, but was told that I couldn't check in until after 2pm. Instead of sitting in the (quite nice) lounge and numbing my brain with their excellent digital television, I decided to beat the rush to St Basil's and the Kremlin. Neither of these attractions opens before 10am (Russians do like to sleep in), so I had high hopes. Moscow's historic district is laid out like a wheel. The Kremlin & Red Square are the center and there are major streets that shoot out like spikes (on one side as bridges over the river). This is bound at one point by the Garden ring - a park that circles the Kremlin from either bank of the river, about 10 blocks out. There is a second ring in another 5-6 blocks. I was staying just outside of the Garden ring, so a quick walk took me to the center.
There, I found, St Basil's!!! Amazing! Truly a fabulous thing to happen upon from the opposite end of Red Square. Two factoids: one, St Basil's actually only refers to the northeastern chapel of Pokrovsky Cathedral; two, Krasnaya Ploshchad (Red Square) originally meant Beautiful Square. It was only in the 20th century that krasny took on the dual meaning of beautiful and red.
Back to the narrative. I duly admired the cathedral, going so far as to climb over a Russian army placed barrier to get an unobstructed photo, with no other people in the shot. Though, Moscow doesn't seem to have nearly as many tourists as St Petersburg, and Russia really doesn't have very many tourists at all. Gee, I wonder why (pain in the butt to get a visa, need to register your visa in every city, etc. etc.). Digression aside, I now believe that there are two jobs created for soldiers and ex-soldiers. Current members of the army have the extremely important job of setting up barriers for no apparent reason and then moving those barriers for no apparent reason - barriers around nothing, blocking noone - very odd. Ex-soldiers get to renovate buildings. Almost every historic (or rebuilt once-historic) building is currently being renovated. Luckily, they'll drape the "restored" or for all I know, newly created "historic" area in tarps printed/painted with a design of how it'll look when completed, so that the tourists don't really miss anything. Funny.
After photographing St Basil's, I decided to hit Lenin's tomb next. First, I queued for and bought my ticket for the Kremlin, then dropped off my camera at the left luggage area, then queued for my momentary descent into grotesquely morbid curiosity. After a 30 minute wait, I was ushered into the granite tomb holding the earthly remains of Vladimir Ilych Lenin, despite his request to be buried next to his mother in St Petersburg. The guards there do not have any vestige of a sense of humour. One Russian toddler asked his papa a question while entering the tomb and was emphatically "shhhhhh"ed. You'd think they'd be a bit more approving of a father bringing his small son to worship at the shrine! The line moves past the glass enclosed corpse fairly quickly. The room is also very dark, so it was hard to get a good look. While lingering trying to see if Lenin's fingertips were a little brownish (yes), I let a gap open between me and the person preceding me. I was hurried along by a man with a machine gun. Though, really, would they allow soldiers to have live ammunition so close to the revered mummy? Not unless that is bullet-proof glass. Then, while trying to get one last look at Lenin's head, I fell down a couple of stairs. Whoops! Those were hard to see in the dark. I wonder how many people break a leg in Lenin's tomb every year?
After my return to the world, I went through the mini-graveyard outside the tomb and had a chance to stand over Joseph Stalin. I think that standing at Stalin's grave, staring at a bust of his mustachioed face, was creepier than looking at Lenin's actual body. Strange.
Then, it was off to the Kremlin! The Kremlin is actually quite a small enclosed area with a few government buildings and a few churches, a huge bell that has never rung, and a giant cannon that has never fired. All in all, a bit of a dud. I decided not to pay the separate entrance fee to see the Armoury, thinking that I'd catch enough gold, jewels, and icons in the rest of Russia. This might have been a mistake, given that I went without seeing one single Faberge egg in all of Russia. I'll have to wait for an exhibit to visit San Francisco.
Mostly, I just wandered around the grounds. I tried to approach the Senate, the current Presidential offices, but was waved off by armed guards. The oddest part of wandering through a still-in-use-by-the-government tourist spot was the near-constant flow of official black sedans with tinted windows and one blue flashing light on top. It was fun to watch people get in and out of the cars. Of course, I didn't recognize any of them. I did go in and see a temporary exhibit of Cartier's jewelry c. 1920-1970. A good display of conspicuous consumption. My favorite was a "necklace" of two alligators crusted in diamonds. Cool.
I entered a few of the chapels and the Patriarch's Palace. I also experienced my first smile and look of approval from a Russian woman. I was extremely confused until I realized that my bandana (worn to keep the sun off the top of my head) was mistakenly thought to be a gesture of respect toward the Orthodox Church. Nice.
My favorite quote of the day came when I asked a fellow tourist what chapel she was leaving. She paused and answered, "The Church of the Demolition of the Robe". Hah! At some point (400 ADish +/-) a Byzantine Emperor came back to Constantinople with the robe/veil of the Virgin, and declared a feast day to celebrate. This day is the "Deposition of the Robe". Definitely a funny, lost-in-translation moment.
After I'd had my fill of icons and wood carvings, I headed over to the Russian Historical Museum. There, I really got an eyeful of treasure in their temporary exhibit. Royal artifacts. Nice. The rest of the museum is a history of Russia from Prehistoric times to the end of the 19th century. Oddly, it stops short of going into modern history, and by modern, I mean the last 100 years. A fellow traveler was specifically hoping to find loads of Soviet museums and history in Moscow, only to come up short. Current Russia is really deemphasizing its Communist past, instead choosing to focus on more distant Russian history.
I also had the fun of being yelled at for taking a photo of an entryway. In Moscow, all sites charge an admission fee and a separate photo fee. If you don't have a ticket to show the proctors, you'll get told off for taking a picture. The result of this is, most people have crappy pics from Moscow, a result of sneaking the odd shot or two.
By now, it was 4pm. I was exhausted and headed back out to my hostel to check in and take a nap. That's a record of my first morning/day in Moscow. I think you'll agree that I was quite productive.
To see my pictures, please visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/christine7world/Moscow
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