My first glimpse of the former Soviet Union was through endless soupy clouds.
I looked for bears in amongst the popsicle firs but with no luck.
In the arrivals hall at one of Moscow's 7 airports (DME, i think) I was exposed, suddenly, and without warning to some truly horrible couture. In a random visual sweep of the queue I spotted a ghastly silver ski suit, some bizarre white studded trainers and a nasty K-Pop haircut with a heavy greased back top flop. This was just one guy...
Having already undergone a cavity search and organ donation at the Russian Embassy in London my visa took me through immigration with very little bother. Just one question at the border. "How much money do you have?" I laughed and rattled my pockets and the guard actually helped me into the waiting area. Nice guy.
And, wait I did. For almost an hour before someone from the office arrived to meet me. It shouldn't surprise you that after the first 15 minutes I started to hurriedly think about what my options might be if she failed to show up, they were limited and luckily Rita arrived and we travelled the hour by taxi to the apartment.
Moscow is massive. Huge!! And when Rita pressed a sim card and a set of keys in my hand and then left me alone on the 5th floor of a truly grotty apartment block I was feeling a little out of my depth. I mean where exactly was I? Ain't nothing in the Lonely planet about this side of town.
My new flat mate was out but her two slightly feral house cats were very much in evidence. The place was pretty disgusting if I am honest and I really didn't know what to do first.
It hadn't escaped my notice that I had come through 6 strong bolt doors to actually get into the place and had three keys and a touch disc just to get from the street to the hallway. That's some heavy security.
So, if you said "show me impoverished Soviet Russia", I would show you this place where I was to be expected to live for at least 4 months. Still there was a very hot cross country skier in the lift so things were already looking up...
Everything was stinking and there were loads of cockroaches in all the cupboards and the corners. I did the only thing I could think to do at that moment and curled up in a clean sarong (thank you Simone!!) and tried to sleep which wasn't easy seeing as I am basically on US time which is 10 hours behind.
It was a miserable first night.
Yesterday morning 'essence of Grandma' kicked in and I rolled up my sleeves.
Heidi, I did ask 'Alexa' for help but she was strangely silent.
I spent most of yesterday cleaning and killing cockroaches. My flatmate emerged from her room about midday. She told me that she had had 7 people come and go in the last 6 months and then proceeded to list all her allergies which sadly included incense but did not include cats, clearly.
She was from the States and odd in that charming academic way. Totally oblivious to the gopping latrine the flat had become but delighted that the freezer was defrosted and could be used without the risk of the perfectly preserved body of 'green boots' sliding out onto the lino!
The flat (I feel that it is misdescriptive to call it an apartment) is like a dinosaur from Chekhov's Russia. The landlady has left cabinets of glassware and some bizarre silver urns for our general use..
I have no idea how I would get out of here in a fire.
I feel I should wear black crinoline and wander the hallways wringing my hands and lamenting the failed potato harvest.
By the lift is a rubbish chute. I couldn't help but think about disposed dead babies and body parts as I sent a bag of waste into the yawning abyss.
Out on the streets there is a homogenised mixture of retail outlets. Grotty dark 'Tabak' stores and a Domino's Pizza nestle together on the streets where the snow is so high as to present the many children with a delightful selection of shoots down which to slide. At least the kids were somehow on board with my excitement over more snow than I have seen since Canada 3 years ago.
My mental 'set point' for snow is days in the pub and a delightful ceasing of all obligation.
Here not so much. Everything just goes on as normal.
The only nod to my English Victorian Christmas mind set was an elderly woman feeding pigeons. But she had a fag in her gob and was more channelling 'Parklife' (Blur) than 'Feed the birds' (Mary Poppins).
When I woke up this morning I knew I had to tackle the transport thing as I am due in the office tomorrow. I am somewhere in the West and the office is in the centre and about an hour and a half away by public transport.
To be honest I was shitting myself and my flat mate said she wasn't able to help me as she prefers to stay inside at the weekends...
So what to do...
Overnight we had had an enormous amount of snow but the trams and the buses pottered up and down, cars were dug out and driven off and the pedestrians walked with purpose to the their destinations.
I walked to the tram stop and immediately felt terrified by the fact that the Russian alphabet bears no relation to anything I know.
I had written myself some phonetic notes and had a vague idea of direction. I had made a point of writing down the translation for "Help, I am lost".
I boarded a tram that I hoped might be right and by counting the stops I found the metro station! Success!
I then navigated a short circuit, stopping at the sports centre to ask about swimming. This involved front crawl arm movements to convey meaning but we got there and the lady receptionist was lovely.
I start work tomorrow and it has been a nightmare trying to bring enough of the right kit for business and weather but right now the best thing I shoved in my bag has been the waterproof trousers I bought for milking! Who knew! Well travelled dairy separates indeed Lewis Edge!! Ha Ha
Anyway, first day tomorrow and all that. Hoping for at least a couple of hours sleep tonight in preparation!
I just wanted to add that although I am far away many of you have really secured a place in my heart of over last few weeks for your friendship, generosity and support. Without you I am nothing and the telling of these tales would be without purpose.
Loving and Missing.
Maria, Mozza, M, Maz, Mousey, Wembs, Marie. XXXXXXXXX
