The big news this week is that I've ventured outside of Ulyanovsk for the first time since arriving. Last weekend Andrew, Richard, Tina and I took a trip to the very nearby city of Kazan. We're slowly learning that the concept of 'very nearby' by Russian standards is an entirely different kettle of fish. Considering that they consider a 3 day train journey to be no big deal, the 4-hour marshrutka ride that we took was a veritable walk in the park. The previous afternoon we'd had a little baking session to make some delicious piroshki (otherwise known as greasy meat treats or heart attack pies) for the journey. Then it was just a case of getting up bright and early on Friday morning to head to the bus station. Upon arrival we found our hostel pretty easily and wasted absolutely no time in heading straight out to our first stop: not the magnificent Kremlin, not one of the many museums nor any of the history-steeped streets of the city. No no. Our first stop was Aqua Park. And I have no regrets. Aside from being reminded just how much fun it is to throw yourself down a vertical pipe made of plastic and full of water, I can also report that the Russians do not know how to queue. Not one bit. And I'm sure I don't need need to tell you quite how much that got our goat. We are British. And we queue. And that's that.
On Saturday we re-repressed our inner children and headed out in search of cultural enlightenment. Everyone back in Ulyanovsk had told us that the Kazan Kremlin is stunning but we still weren't fully prepared for the sight that met us as we walked up the steps out of the metro station. I thought maybe we'd accidentally missed our stop, taken a wrong turning and ended up in Disneyland.
The word Kremlin seems to have become synonymous with the one in Moscow but it does actually apply to any citadel or fortress. The Kazan Kremlin is home to a 16th-century cathedral, the palace of the President of Tatarstan and the Kul Sharif mosque. While it can't quite match up to that of the capital in terms of size (what with Moscow's five palaces and four cathedrals) I would have to say that the Kul Sharif mosque (pictured above) is probably the most beautiful building I've ever seen in real life. I nearly burned out the memory card on my camera in a desperate attempt to get a picture that came even close to doing it justice. We had a pretty perfect day wandering around, taking in the sights and basking in the sun. Then in the evening we headed out for a night on the tiles which came to a mojito-fuelled climax in an amazing bar called Cuba Libre. When worlds collide. Our Sunday activity was to head to the central stadium to watch a very conveniently timed match between Rubin Kazan and CSKA Moscow. I'd love to say that I awoke bright eyed, bushy tailed and full of football-ready energy. Suffice to say, my sunglasses were my best friend for most of the day and it was all I could do to not add to the tense atmosphere in the stands by vomiting on the head of the man in front of me. Crippling hangovers aside, it was a very interesting experience. The game itself never really got started but the spectators, the Moscow fans in particular, provided more than enough entertainment by letting off fireworks in the stands, releasing blue clouds of smoke and being generally terrifying. After the match it was time to head home and we were all very sad to have to say goodbye. Kazan gets a 10/10.
And yesterday we had to say another sad goodbye, this time to Andrew who is leaving us in search of Spanish-ier climes. He will be missed her in Ulyanovsk. To mark his departure we headed out for dinner and drinks on Thursday.When we arrived back to the hostel we decided to watch Game of Thrones in Andrew's room (on the 6th floor) so I ran upstairs to my room (on the 8th floor) to grab a drink and then nipped down to Tina's flat (on the 7th floor) before heading back to Andrew's. I rang the bell and stood waiting to be let in, clutching my carton of wine and a glass. The door opened and I was greeted by the nice young man from Palestine who lives in the flat next to mine. He seemed confused, looked at his watch and asked if I was hoping to come in for tea. I stuttered for a long time as my brain tried to process what was happening before the realisation dawned that I'd been in such a rush to get back to Game of Thrones that I'd absent-mindedly gone back up the stairs from Tina's flat, ending up back on my own floor. Of course, I couldn't begin to explain that in Russian. I muttered a hurried apology, waving my wine in his face by way of explanation and legged it. So I may be losing a friend in Andrew but I'm pretty confident that I laid some excellent groundwork for a stunning new friendship that night.
It's strange to be a Brit in Russia this week. If you haven't already seen Putin's homophobic Russia being expertly put under the spotlight by the wonderful Mr Stephen Fry, read this. I feel like a soldier who's accidentally wandered into enemy terrain but then sits down to have a cup of tea instead of giving them what for. We've signed contracts saying we won't engage in Russia's political life in any way and it's a well known fact that tourists in Russia can be arrested for promoting 'homosexual propaganda'. So can all my lawyer friends please remain on standby, just in case.
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