I first visited Moscow in 1972, on an educational school cruise round the Baltic on the SS Nevasa, happy days which we don’t need to relive here.
I had started the overnight train from Leningrad as ships prefect; by the morning having enjoyed a bottle of Russian vodka for the first time, I wasn’t. Having seemingly enjoyed telling one of our chaperone school masters to “fuck off you stumpy little twat” and “tell your fat mate to fuck off as well”. When told it was lights out
A) mr wills was just about 5’1” so I wasn’t lying
B) mr coleman was rotund so what’s the problem?
C) some people have no sense of humour
D) I was never the best behaved schoolboy
E) nor the best behaved adult either when I think about it
F) one life, live it
Any other fellow Nevasa travellers part of peak?
(Source)[https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Nevasa#/media/File%3APassagierschiff_NEVASA_(brit.)_(Kiel_48.936).jpg]
Anyways, I digress, I fell in love with all things Soviet, especially the vodka and their cigarettes, about 2” of tobacco connected to a cardboard tube that was longer than the fag! But at about thruppence for 20 who cares.
That love affair still exists and I have been fortunate to re visit the former USSR several times since. Some say I walk round with rose tinted glasses on. Still imbibing vodka, but the nicotine habit well and truly kicked.
This trip was seeing me travel on TSE as far as Ekaterinburg.
Touching down at Sheremetyevo late afternoon and eventually arriving at an overnight hotel in the city centre, my fellow travellers were a bit apprehensive about leaving the hotel and wandering around Moscow at night.
FFS! Am I stuck with these bed wetters for two weeks, still I quite enjoy my own company, and off I set.
Having not eaten since a Frankie and Bennys big breakfast at Manchester airport many hours ago, I was feeling a bit peckish; furthermore the sun had crossed the yardarm, ‘twas time for alcohol.
Out of the hotel and allowing Siri to guide me towards Red Square, I was pointed in the right direction for a traditional Russian eatery, mmmmm yummy pigs trotters and dumplings
Now I’m a selective eater, my love of all things Soviet does not include food. ( unless it’s macadees, who can get that wrong?).
Foregoing said trotters, joy of joys an Irish bar!
A) unexpected
B) welcoming
C) needed
D) authentic
E) magners on drought.........
..........and the local delicacy chilli con carnski
It really was getting too comfortable in here and I had to drag myself back into the warm autumn evening and continue on
Wasn’t long before I spied my first, Oligarch? Gangster? Pimp? Pusher? Cruising the streets in his lah-di-dah RR
Yes I was standing in the middle of the road like a tacky tourist!
On my right, situated in in Alexander Garden a monument to Patriarch Hermogenes, a 17th century Patriarch of Moscow and Russia,.
On my left the Moscow Ménage, latterly an exhibition hall, formerly an indoor riding academy for cavalry officers. Rebuilt after a fire in 2004.
Making my way past The Troitskaya Tower, the highest tower of the Kremlin at 260ft, built in 15th c just peaking out over the treetops, of Alexander Park and then turning right at the State Historical Museum, which contains, allegedly millions of objects, including just under 2 million coins. I arrived in Red Square.
Red square looking back at aforementioned museum, I’m not a fan of museums to be honest, you are being shown stuff they want you to see. It’s a bit like listening to the radio, all those hip, funky, “I’m down with the kids” disc jockeys playing shite, whether you want to listen or not. I fucking hate the radio.
I used to love the brief glimpses of the May Day parades that were occasionally shown on British telly.
My mother once nearly choked on her mock turtle soup, when I announced to my parents that I wanted them to address me as Stepan and that I intended to retire to Russia. They never did: and I never did.
(Source)[https://thewire.in/external-affairs/moscow-50-years-of-russian-revolution]
So now walking the cobbles where the mighty military forces paraded in front of their leaders
The tomb of Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov, to the background the impressive Spasskaya clock tower , to the foreground an impressive pair of legs.
The darkness was fast approaching, the light fading, the numbers promenading diminishing, it was time to turn back. St Basil’s Cathedral, The Church of the Intercession, built on the instruction of Ivan the Terrible, in the 16th c, in white marble the domes were not coloured until 200 years later. In my humble opinion, as stunning as this is I do prefer The Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood.
So leaving Red Square via Nikolskya Street, flanked by the massive GUM Department Store, guided not by the stars but the fairy lights
It was time to head back to my hotel, not directly, maybe just maybe, via a wonderful Irish Bar, for Magners and muscovite craic.
So thank you for walking with me, spokoynoy nochi.
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School trips to Moscow?.., the best I got was London. I remembered the food was fucking awful and we got robbed with burglars creeping in the dorm and nicking a lot of stuff. The school moved all the pupils to somewhere in Crystal Palace after a big row with the landlord.. hehe, none of my stuff got nicked. !WINE.
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Sounds fun!
Hiya, @ybanezkim26 here, just swinging by to let you know that this post made it into our Honorable Mentions in Daily Travel Digest #1132.
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