FROM SHANGHAI TO LONDON BY TRAIN: Russia: More Moscow

I was left to tackle Moscow by myself the next day which I did by walking around the Red Square area, aimlessly, but that wasn’t until I spent the morning trying to get my next train ticket: Moscow to Warsaw, Poland’s capital. First I went to the train station where it took thirty minutes to find the correct ticket office only to be told I needed a Belarus visa, as the train would cross Belarus, a vague new post USSR country I knew nothing about except the capital is Minsk. She handed me the address of the Belarus Embassy which I found an hour later, arriving at 11.55am only to be told that visa applications were accepted from 10 to 12 and I was too late, regardless of the fact that it was actually before 12. I was insane with frustration and started to seriously consider how I could get to England around Belarus. There was nothing I could do until the next morning.
That evening I met Maria and her sister for a tour of Moscow’s pretty area during sunset including the main university, which we wouldn’t enter due to obscene security. It seems Russia is as paranoid as America. We settled in a semi-bohemian café having eaten cheap street-vendor pies and chatted about travel horror stories. I told them about Fabio getting attacked and Maria responded with a “I can do better than that!” style gusto as she launched into a story of how she was mugged at knife point and nearly raped within the same day. I was a little perplexed at the glee with which she told the story, almost like she was proud of it and happy for it to happen again. Her naivety was worrying. If these events didn’t make her stop and think, how easily will she allow such things to happen again?

And so the next morning I arrived at the embassy just before 11am to a queue of about twelve people. I waited for just under an hour until it was 11.55am and again I was thoroughly pissed-off with the prospect of having to come back yet again. I went up to the counter, put on my best “little boy lost” look and struck lucky. This seemingly hard Russian woman was an English speaking and middle-aged who mothered me a little: my photo was too big for a visa but that’s ok, I hadn’t made a copy of my passport, that’s ok, she’ll do it. I needed to pay exactly $45 in US dollars with bank notes that were no older than three years. Crazy. Luckily, a guy next to me offered to exchange some of my roubles for dollars but I had no idea how much money I had. He gave me a $50 note and I just about had enough roubles, according to him. She gave me change even though there was a notice on the counter window saying that no change could be given. She chatted to me about my journey.
“So you’re a traveller?”
“Yeah, from Shanghai to London by train”.
“And you don’t speak any Russian?”
“No, none… yeah, I guess it is kind of difficult.”
She laughed, “well, good luck. Are you writing a book about it?”
“Actually, I’m trying to.”
“Good luck. Be careful with your money and your passport.” When all else fails, use the “little boy lost” look.
I had to return at 4pm to pick up my new Belarus-friendly passport which now allowed me a narrow two day window to pass through Belarus, so I had to get a ticket on thee days. So I went to the railway station, queued for thirty minutes to be told I was in the wrong queue, queued for a further twenty minutes and managed to get a Moscow to Warsaw ticket to leave three days later. Then I met Vania and we walked through a nice lively studenty street with lots of street musicians, stalls and pickpockets. One guy started to walk by me while firing questions to me, edging closer and closer. After a meal at a cheap school-canteen style restaurant we went back to Vania’s place, a tatty apartment on the edge of the Metro system.

The next day I spent two hours in Moscow’s main museum, the Pushkin gallery which was surprisingly bad. It cost 300 roubles for foreigners (100 for Russians) and an extra 250 roubles for an audio guide which was pretty much essential as none of the exhibits featured any English. This was Moscow, a capital city, and there was no English.
Most exhibits featured ancient Greek copies of plaster casts, which are incredibly boring even with an English guide. The highlight was a twentieth century room with some famous Monets, Gauguins and Van Goghs, although I didn’t recognise them myself. Chris was to arrive in Moscow that evening, having spent a week in Mongolia and four days on the train. By coincidence, he was due to stay at Vania’s, having contacted him some days before. I went to meet him at a rather strange train station where the platforms were across the street from the main ticket office and waiting hall. It was a novelty to see him and to take him to a park, where we were due to meet Vania later where we caught-up with each other.

I spent most of the next day on the internet in Vania’s home, emailing friends and starting to apply for teaching jobs in London. The plan was to live with Maki and another person in London, renting a place. Maki would continue her degree at the London College of Fashion that she interrupted to work back in Japan to save money for her return to London. And I’d get a job as a high school music teacher. May was the peak month of teaching vacancies so I was trying to get ready, get started early, although the most I could do was ask for application forms to be sent to my home, ready to fill on my arrival. Not the nest things to do upon arriving home after such a change in life.
I met Maria and some of her friends in the evening. Chris was supposed to show up but never did so we left to buy a few bottles of a local speciality: honey beer. It was sweet and strong and gave me chronic heartburn, but of course the Russians had no problem. We sat by a huge fountain, lined with huge gold statues of women, each one depicting one of the new states created by the demise of the USSR, although of course, they all looked the same to me. The surrounding area was peaceful. People were roller-skating or drinking. The area was once a large soviet exhibition, which supposedly showed the USSR’s great achievements. At one end there still remained a couple of small passenger Aeroflot planes and a small space rocket which looked old and faded. We walked around and bought kebabs which reminded me that I really was getting closer to home, and then we went home with the sun going down at around 10pm.

Again I did pretty much nothing the next day before leaving to meet Chris which was to be our last few hours together on this journey. The plan was to meet at a station at 6pm. I was hoping to take a walk around red square so I could get some photos of St. Bail’s cathedral just before dusk but again Chris showed. I waited until 7pm until I walked away thoroughly pissed off. I need to return Vania’s keys to Chris so Vania could get them (Chris was going to stay for a few more nights) so I had to go all the way back to Vania’s place to throw them under the door and back again, which was pretty much my last few hours in Russia. I did however get some nice pictures of St. Basil’s at dusk, which was surprisingly important to me. A song in Japan called “Kremlin Dusk” had meant a lot to me as it was playing when me and Aki first dated, more specifically when I first stayed over at her place and felt really happy. And I always pictures the scene of Kremlin under a nice sunset and here I was, actually in Moscow, staring at the Kremlin under a cloudless pink sky.