The busyness began two Mondays ago with a trip to the local zip-wire park, Adrenalin. A bit like Go Ape, for those of you who've been, but with approximately 99% less health and safety regulations. There is something very liberating about going to a place like that without sitting through a compulsory 2 hour safety demonstration and having staff in hard hats waiting around every corner to check your ropes, remind you of the rules and stop you from doing anything too wild like fun police. Then again, as previously mentioned, I had a date in Moscow to get to so I was pretty keen to escape with my life and all limbs intact. With this in mind, I didn't go mad with my new found freedom, settling for semi sensible fun.
The very next day (muscles aching from head to toe from all the ladder climbing and zip lining) I packed up a little bag and headed to the train station. I was very excited at the prospect of meeting Dave in Moscow but with a 15 hour train journey and a half-day alone to get through before his arrival, I had to try to remain calm - 23 straight hours of intense excitement is just not sustainable. The train journey went pretty smoothly, as did finding the hostel once I'd arrived in Moscow. I then went to meet Yoanne for lunch who, by amazing coincidence, just happened to be in town that same weekend as part of her journey from Saint Petersburg on the Trans-Siberian Railway. We had a very lovely (albeit brief) catch up and before I knew it I was headed to the metro to get to the airport express train to meet Dave in arrivals. It suddenly struck me that (bar a slight detour to the hostel and to lunch) I was carrying out the exact reverse of the journey I'd made seven weeks previously when I first arrived in Russian, only this time I was happy and excited and carrying a tiny handbag instead of terrified and tired and lugging two suitcases. A very happy contrast indeed.
Moscow is a hard city to sum up - it doesn't feel all that friendly and I don't reckon it's very accessible for tourists (most of the signs on the metro are only in Russian, which is pretty mad for the capital city of the biggest country in the world) but it's certainly got its charm. On Thursday (Dave's birthday) we met up with Andrew - a Muscovite student of Tatiana's who she'd convinced to meet us for the day and show us round a bit (I swear she could sell ice to the Eskimos if she needed to). He was the perfect tour guide. Relaxed, friendly and full of little anecdotes and interesting bits of information about the major landmarks and the city's political history. In the evening Dave and I headed out for his birthday treat. We'd found a restaurant online called Cafe Pushkin, which sounded pricey but too cool to resist. We decided there's no better reason to splash out than a birthday and what a fantastic decision that turned out to be - Cafe Pushkin was definitely the highlight of our Moscow Adventure. The food was pretty sensational and the service was amazing - a very rare phenomenon in Russia indeed. We probably stood out like sore thumbs in our desperate attempts to take sneaky photos of the décor and grinning at each other like little children every time the waiter came to refill our wine glasses with a flourish.
On Friday we went to the Kremlin - the supposed highlight for any tourist in Moscow. It was certainly very impressive - beautiful in places - and holds a heck of lot of fascinating Russian history but I have to say (I hope Putin isn't reading this) that I wouldn't be inclined to recommend it all that highly as a Must See. Apparently the Armoury and the Diamond Vault are breathtaking so perhaps we would have been more impressed had we managed to see those too but we were pushed for time (and cash!) and settled on the basic entry tickets instead. On Saturday our plans were slightly scuppered by a pretty intense downfall of rain so instead of going to Gorky Park as planned we ended up at the State Tretyakov Gallery, which houses a bigger art collection that I ever thought possible to exist under one roof. Naturally (because it's becoming increasingly clear that we have no restraint whatsoever when it comes to food and drink) a lot of our time in Moscow was spent drinking beers and vodkas and cocktails and eating delicious meats and dumplings and ice cream. And suddenly it was time to head back to Ulyanovsk. The train journey was infinitely more enjoyable with a companion. We made the most of it by drinking some train beers, eating lots of train chocolate and playing train cards.
Tatiana had secured us a flat to stay in for three nights in Ulyanovsk because overnight guests are technically not allowed in the dorm. We knew that it was an empty flat and that there'd be an air-bed but otherwise we didn't know what to expect. Little did we know that the landlady and landlord were a fantastically friendly Russian couple in their 50s living on the same corridor who'd want to spend as much time with us as possible and feed us until we were fit to burst. We had vodka and pancakes and cheese and sour cream (of course) and sausage and bread and honey and fresh tomatoes and cucumber and apples and pears and grapes (all home grown). And that was just breakfast. The landlord took a very large shine to Dave, commenting more than once on how handsome he is and how well he sings and plays the guitar (after coercing him into giving a private concert in the lounge) and wanted to tell him all sorts of jokes and anecdotes. The only problem was that my translating skills were not quite up to scratch so I'd translate Yevgeny's jokes as best I could... "Something about a farmer... a Chinese farmer... working in a field..." etc etc, but once it got to the punchline I'd pull a blank and have to resort to telling Dave to just laugh and nod as if I'd understood. We got away with it but I can't help feeling a pang of guilt when I think of all those wasted punchlines. One time I lent across the table and ended up inadvertently dipping my finger in the sour cream. Without hesitation, Yevgeny grabbed my hand and licked it clean off whilst Dave looked on, powerless and bemused. And another time, when Nadia (the landlady) was out I happened to leave the room for 30 seconds, in which time Yevgeny poured a secret vodka shot for himself and Dave to hurriedly down while the women weren't watching.
It was a slightly overwhelming but highly enjoyable experience and my first real encounter of the renowned Russian hospitality that I'd read so much about but had yet to really come across first hand. It was a shame to say goodbye to them but I very much hope to see them again before I leave for good.
And then Wednesday evening arrived and it was time to head back to station to wave goodbye once more. They don't get any easier - these goodbyes - but there was a definite silver lining this time in that it was the official last goodbye of the Year Abroad. Crazy.
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