And so it begins...

I'm in Russia. I've pinched myself a few times but this would appear to be real life. Oh my.

Mum, Dave and I set off at 4am on Saturday morning. At this point I was still so firmly rooted in denial that I just kept thinking to myself "we really are going to a lot of effort to make this ‘Russia’ plot seem convincing" This thought prevailed right up until the moment when I had to say goodbye and make my way through to security, when it was all too real to deny any longer. And my reaction was to burst into tears. Unfortunately, the tears were as persistent as my denial had been, which was more than a little awkward for the lady who checked my passport, the woman who had to pat me down after I set off the buzzer, the young man who sold me my bottle of water in WHSmith and the couple who I sat next to on the plane. Thankfully once we took off I managed to regain control.

We landed in Moscow at 2pm local time only two spend 2 horrendous hours stuck in a mob of people trying to fight their way through passport control. The only time I can recall being stuck in such a sweaty, crowded and rowdy group of people is at Glastonbury except this time there was no Beyonce to make it all worthwhile. I made friends with a chatty Australian fella in the midst of the chaos which numbed the pain a little. Finally, we were through and I went to collect my suitcase and head for the express train. Coming above ground really surprised me - from the train window everything looked so... normal. Lots of normal green trees and a normal-looking motorway and normal buildings and things. I suppose I was expecting absolutely everything to be unfamiliar and strange. Russia-ified somehow.

Then it was on to the metro. Let me tell you... Navigating an extremely busy and dauntingly unfamiliar metro system in 30 degree heat dragging 35kg of luggage behind you is an unpleasant task to say the least. I ended up basically throwing my suitcase down a few flights of stairs to avoid having to lift it. The Russians weren't that quick to help a damsel in distress either. I had the route planned out but it turned out to be slightly more complicated than I expected - more stairs and much more walking. Plus all of the signs were in Russian. Bloody Russian. At one point I squeezed onto a crowded train and practically collapsed against the door absolutely drenched in sweat and a nice lady took pity on me and helped me to prop my cases up against the wall. When we got off the train she leaned in to ask where I was headed next. Unfortunately I slightly misread the situation and thought she was just saying a friendly goodbye so I kissed her on the cheek. Needless to say, that was awkward.

Eventually I made it to the main station where I was to get the train to Ulyanovsk. I've been told that Russians love ice cream but it was still a strange sight to see nearly all of the commuters and businessmen and travellers stood around the grey, muggy station eating ice-cream cones as if they were on holiday in Blackpool. The train was a very novel experience. I found my bunk (yep, bunk. That’s how we roll in Russia) pretty easily and managed to jam my cases into a corner with the help of two very nice ladies who had the bunks under mine. The stewardess clocked me immediately and came over to help me make the bed - my look of helplessness probably said it all. I was so knackered from the journey so far that I climbed up onto my bunk and spent the next 15 hours in various states of sleep.

The train arrived in Ulyanovsk at 9am and I was met at the station by a lady from the university called Inna. We got in a taxi and came straight to the campus, which is a little way out of town. My dorm is... interesting. Ulyanovsk ain’t got nothing on Collingwood that’s for damn sure. Three girls live here during term time but you wouldn't know they'd gone home for the summer judging by the fact that all of their stuff is still here. Food, clothes, toiletries, pictures and decorations and even rubbish. It made me feel like a squatter at first... Like I'd just snuck into someone else's flat and made myself at home. And then on Monday one of the girls came back unexpectedly for a few days and walked in to find me sitting in her bedroom listening to the Les Mis soundtrack in my PJs. Awkward is not the word. I was like a rabbit in headlights and mumbled something along the lines of "Hello, I'm English, I live here" and then ran to the uni to get help. There's no washing machine and apparently I have to ring a lady to come collect my laundry when it needs doing but I don’t like making phonecalls at the best of times so I'll be washing my clothes in the bath tub I reckon. And the toilet is like some kind of torture chamber. The view ain't bad though...

Ulyanovsk as a place has definitely surpassed my expectations. For one thing the Volga River is pretty spectacular. It's freaking massive! So big that they've made an actual sandy beach which is just as big as any beach I've ever been to. You wouldn't know you weren't on the coast. Until you go for a dip and you emerge with a slightly green sheen from the ever-so-slightly slimy water. But beggars certainly can't be choosers - a beach is a beach and I spent a lovely afternoon there on Sunday with some boys from Belarus. I even had a cold beer in the sun. The boys didn't speak a lot of English and I don't need to tell you how my Russian skills are, so we heavily relied on gesture and facial expression. It's amazing how much of a rapport you can strike up via a game of charades. In the evening we went to a bar at the top of a 28 storey building with a dazzling view out over the city. Strangely, a lot about Ulyanovsk is reminding me of my time in Costa Rica - the same climate (sweltering heat to thunder and lightning in 0.01 seconds), the same little wooden shacks oddly sandwiched between big concrete towers and the same the lack of brand names and franchises. The public transport is similar too - trams that look like they should have been taken out of service decades ago (and which cost 24p per trip) and taxi drivers with a terrifying disregard for safety.

On Tuesday a lovely Russian boy named Mark came with me to help me get a Russian SIM card and ended up showing me round a bit. My hopes were high that I'd made my first Official Friend. But unfortunately he left Ulyanovsk yesterday and won't be back until after I'm gone again. Mark told me that Russians can be like closed boxes - if you walk past someone in the street you'll be lucky to get a smile and there's something of a hostile vibe but if you have the chance to engage properly they can't do enough for you. From what I've experienced so far and the people I have had a chance to engage with - the few ladies who helped me along my journey, the friendly cleaner who came to my dorm this morning and certainly from Mark himself, that seems to be a pretty accurate appraisal.

Overall it's been a quiet week. My classes don't start until Monday so I've had to occupy myself, which is harder than it sounds given that there aren't many students around and there isn't an awful lot to do. But I've been getting my bearings and exploring and preparing for the learning to commence next week. It's been lonely but not dreadful. The next few months are pretty uncertain. I'm hoping for a language epiphany but if it doesn't come who knows what will happen. For the meantime I'm trying to keep an positive mindset. Verdict so far: Russia is interesting and strange and scary and kind of cool.

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