Author: TC0241

A toast “to the health of the Russian people”

Now toasts are a big deal in Russia that is the ones you raise a glass to not the ones you put Marmalade (Jelly) on. At any gathering of above 2 people you are likely to encounter someone standing up and providing a toast. They can be at the start middle or end of your meal and there is not specific protocol it’s a bit like karaoke where anyone and everyone can participate.  Of course there needs to be an obligatory drink involved and nobody seems to shy away even when the 7th person is on their feet lifting up yet another glass. Not only are there no formal rules there does not seem to be any planning it is more like random people getting up and pretty much repeating what the last person said, with a few amendments though.

This does tend to prolong meals as does the number of courses they have. Not that there are mountains of food more that there are lots of things offered and you choose to dip in or not as the fancy takes you. Looking at the local cook books there seems to be an awful lot of things either pickled or in aspic (Google it) which is “interiesna”. I am sure they would feel the same if they were offered jellied eels (En) or chittlin (Us) or snails (Fr) but each to his own.

The drink was what I wanted to comment on as President Medvedev (you know the one who swapped jobs with Putin) has just passed a law stating that a bottle of Vodka can now no longer be sold for less than $3 which is slightly worrying as it “doubles” the price of the cheapest brands. Anyway they have a goal to half the amount of alcohol consumed by Russians by 2020 with a 15% reduction by the end of 2010. The average Russian drinks 15 litres (26 pints) of pure alcohol per year, or half a pint a week, compared with 5.4 litres in 1990. To put it in some perspective it is twice as much as the US and 50% more than the UK. Of course this is an average so if you take away the babies and kids we might get an even more frightening scenario. One thing I can commend the Russians on is that their drink drive law says 0% alcohol is allowed so nice and straight forward then. 
They quote that at least 2.3 million people in Russia are alcoholics, and it is blamed for rising mortality rates, particularly among men. Male life expectancy has fallen to less than 59 years, compared with 72 for women. Maybe why I don’t see that many old men around (I will be in the minority in a year or so).

It’s not the first time they have tried to deal with the problem. Mikhail Gorbachev, the last Soviet leader, declared a war on alcohol abuse in 1985, ordering dramatic cuts in the production of wines and spirits and introducing strict controls on public consumption. It led to a surge in illegal production of low-quality, home-brewed drink (‘samogon’). So maybe it is in the genes they just like a drink or two.

Anyway Mr Putin (you know the one who swapped jobs with Medvedev and may well swap back) is supporting the initiative to improve the general health of the population by supporting this alcohol reduction although they don’t seem to have come up with a solid plan yet other than increasing the duty on it. Not sure that is a long term deterrent and they may want to consider other options. Possibly education as children start drinking between 13 and 15 so they could add something to the curriculum if they want.

Now does this mean that the place is overwhelmed with drunks no not in the least whilst there might be the odd party at the entrance to the Metro in general they are well behaved and you do not see hoards of people staggering around making a nuisance of themselves later at night neither do you see a lot of confrontation or fights. Maybe they are all too “tired and emotional” to care
 

Clingfilm (Stretch wrap) is it stretching things too far
As usual Clingfilm or cling wrap or stretch wrap to our American readers was invented in 1953 by a scientist who was trying to make a hard plastic cover for his car; his experiment was completely unsuccessful but he then found the usefulness of plastic wrap which he happened to create instead. So the wrap’s history is built on a lab error and serendipity as usual in these cases.
Anyway it has many uses but is normally to be seen wrapped around food items of various sorts although it has been seen, covering pallets, windows, etc. Being inventive we can find lots of reasons to cover things in this thin film some less effective and as an emergency condom is not recommended (or so it says on Google something about chafing)
The food area is probably the most popular use and taking leftovers and wrapping them tightly in little bundles to carefully place in the fridge or freezer for later consumption is the norm. Now I could ask how many times they are actually brought back out and eaten verses how many times you would open the door and wonder what the smell is before hunting around to find that item you just could not face throwing away. Likewise you may well find that small section of frozen lasagna only resurfaces when you either defrost the freezer (come on when was the last time you did that honestly ? (Michelle excluded)) or when you have run out of room and are trying to find a place for that bit of lasagna you make six months later.
If you are not at the stage of storing cooked food don’t despair you can individually wrap fresh items as well which involves taking the cling film off the item you have just purchased and dividing it into small portions to wrap again and for future forgetting,, sorry future use at you convenience. That is if you can get the flaming stuff off once it is frozen as the defrosting seems to make the thing so slippery you may get frustrated and sling it once again into the depths of the freezer.
No sure what the knack of using this wonderful item is as my efforts seem to consist of not being able to unwrap it whilst is it inside of the packaging and also not being able to snap it off cleanly even when using that thin strip of metal on the edge of the box, you know the one you catch your finger on then why the film has to immediately want to wrap itself together into a tangled mess. I understand it’s probably static electricity but it is difficult to ground myself being in a sixth floor flat and taking it all outside would be unhygienic I think.  So the act of wrapping these items is a challenge in itself.  Whilst I think about it why am I trying to individually wrap half a dozen chicken breasts into individual portions? It’s not like there is a shortage or they are even difficult to get hold of. The supermarket is 400 meters away so not difficult to get to and they are not heavy either. So the only logical reason for trying to perform this rather difficult task is because I saved 15 rubles by purchasing 6 at once (51 cents, 31 pence) and possibly the amount of film I waste trying to complete this Mensa test will probably negate my savings so maybe not so smart. I could of course tell the assistant I want a single chicken breast six times but given they are not the friendliest of people I am not prepared for the inevitable fallout as word of my request filters around the store and people begin to point at me and mutter under their breath.
Maybe it need one of those dispensers they use in the shops they don’t appear to have the same issues I encounter although they are doing it continuously every day so maybe it is in the wrist action. Not sure where we would put it or if it should be constantly on the worktop but I think we have better use of the limited space we have so a none starter really even if I could find one.
So the usefulness of clingfilm is beginning to escape (and annoy) me although covering things to cook in the microwave is I have to say is not only useful but in the main essential although not actually having a microwave makes this less attractive. So I will have to find user uses for the remaining three quarters of a roll we have that is if I can find the end of it or avoid cutting my finger on the serrated edge of the box. I am not intending to throw it away as I am sure in the not too distant future I will have a burning need for it. Life can be very complex at times.
Now of course I may have a jaundice view of all of this as I am a Tupperware man myself ever since we got our carrousel which eliminated a whole cupboard full of lids and containers which did not fit each other. You probably have a similar collection in one of your cupboards. Maybe there should be a Tupperware swap club where people gather together and try and fit lids to containers. I of course am above all of this as I have 3 different container sizes but only one lid size which fits all of them.  This of course does mean that I have a fridge half full of translucent boxes of various sizes with items I have forgotten or am ignoring until they start to smell or start moving around on their own.  Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

They are stealing the snow !!!

Hello I’m back sorry about that, I will fill in the gaps as we go along but first I thought I would tell you about the snow stealers.

They come in the dead of night with diggers and big trucks and shovel it all away. During the day time the road sweepers shovel it all into nice piles then overnight it gets taken away and then they start again. Now you might think why move it at all just let it melt well let me tell you it’s -10 and likely to stay that way until late March so this snow is not going anywhere soon. Not sure where it ends up but I imaging a real ski slope somewhere around the city which will probably operate until April.
We were in England over Christmas and whilst they are experiencing the worst winter for 20 or 30 years it’s not the same. For the most part it is pretty and lasts a few days bringing catastrophic predictions of shortages of Gas and grit, food, travel disruptions and worst of all cancellation of football (soccer) matches (even in the US snow is not allowed to stop sports matches). People scramble to get sledges or something else to slide down the local hill on.  Here the snow is not pretty at all it absorbs all of the smoke and fumes and is a light brown color.
They don’t grit here you just take smaller steps if you know what’s good for you. Every few minutes you see someone sliding around and you remember short steps. In a few places they add some specks of something but it is not salt as it does not melt anything it just makes some patterns until it get covered by the next dump.

You would have thought with all of those salt mines in Siberia they would have some spare but no.

Here of course they are used to this type of weather and just get on with things. The roads seem ok as everyone has winter tires on and driving is not really an issue in fact it is slightly better now as they don’t drive at such reckless speeds. The pavements are a different matter. All the buildings have downspouts I say downspouts rather than drain pipes because they just splash out onto the pavement as they don’t have drains. So when the sun does shine and some of the snow on the roofs melt they fall onto the pavement and create mini ice rinks. There are also huge icicles hanging from the roofs as the downspouts freeze up and overflow. This has people putting out barriers to stop you walking underneath them. Fine except you then have to walk into the road or over the mounds of snow waiting to be stolen. So you need your wits about you looking up down to see where the next hazard is. Our road which normally has people parking on both sides (and the pavement) and still had room for two lanes of traffic is now a single lane track as it gets narrower due to the mounds of snow being piled up by the sweepers that is when they are not hiding in the bus shelters drinking that is (the drinking has reduced but not stopped).

Right now I can see a man walking across the roof opposite pushing the snow of the edge and banging the guttering to remove the ice. No safety harness or protective roping off for these people they just climb up and bang away. I think I need to stop watching him as I am getting a bit queasy.

Almost everyone has a big hat and coat but not many have scarfs not sure why maybe they think it is sissy. Well I don’t and mine gets double wrapped around my neck just to be sure. Judi says there is now 20 minutes “Faffing around” before we go out as we prepare. (Remember always go to the toilet BEFORE you start) and the same when we get back and of course now we understand why all good Russians take their shoes off outside. There are lots of fur coats on display and one has to believe they are effective and there is no stigma attached to them around here.

They do know how to heat the shops and houses and I am typing this in my t-shirt, well the office but wearing a t-shirt. Our radiators came on 1st of October and there is no thermostat just on or off so heat regulation is simple. No 57 page document to quiz to set up the heating just on or off which even I can manage.

Familiarity breeds something you are already used to

Ok a crap title but it was the only thing I could dream up so early in the morning. Second day of my trip to Johannesburg and woke up at 5:20 and not leaving the hotel until 8:00 so got to do something and this is it.

I was in the taxi going to the airport Sunday which was a late booking. Luckily Judi asked which airport I was using as I would have been on the train to the wrong one Doh and the taxi driver was only slightly strange. A Vauxhall car not too big just an ordinary saloon car but he had driving gloves on which seemed a little unnecessary and seemed to have made an office out of the front two seats. There were clips and folders and holders of various sized all laid out neatly. Phones and pens and his Bluetooth were all laid out to hand. Not one but two air fresheners and given they were different scents the fragrance in the car was slightly nauseating. Car air fresheners are a little intense at the best of times so you can imagine two different ones can fast become overpowering.  Curiously there was also quite a large pair of scissors not sure what they were for but no matter.
Anyway he cut down a street I had not been on before but I though I know where this comes out and sure enough a couple of moments later we were next to the English pub. When I say pub it is a real English one, sticky tables and smoke stained walls. Not like you get back home. Up across the bridge and around by the White house (where Yeltsin stood on the tanks and saved Russia from reverting back to communism. A sharp left onto Tervertskia past the gourmet food shop which can only be likened to Harrods. Onward past the high price clothes shops up and across the Garden ring and out of the centre. All of this is familiar to me now and a thought crosses my mind that it is almost a year since we first “nipped” across to take a look at the place and see if we could life here.

A year wow, somehow it just flies by.
Now of course it is all second nature once you get a handle on where you are and where to get Cigarettes, milk and vodka things get easier. The Metro which is my friend has taken me too many places, not quite sure where they all are but the train knows and that’s all that matters.

Once you get the hang of a place it all becomes familiar I know which short cuts to take and when places open and close. The assistants recognize the weird Englishman who points at things and never pays with any coins always notes. (It is difficult to add up the very small coins they have so I save them up and use coins to purchase Metro tickets which only delays the queue slightly.
 
Life is still ever so slightly routine that is we have regular places to eat and shop but we do push out on a little and adventure off the beaten path occasionally. There must be something of a wandering bug in us but you knew that anyway.

The Russians know how to keep warm and the heating came on 1st of October and 2 days later I was opening windows as the place got warmer and warmer. We even have two rooms with under floor heating. The car goes in the underground garage and the winter coats hats, gloves and scarf’s are all out of their storage and in use. Judi and I both purchased fur lined boots as we prepare for a cold but more importantly a dark winter. So far it has by local standards been mild which means the temperature hovers around freezing all the time with only a couple of short snowfalls which disappear in the city quickly.  

Did I every tell you about the day when…………….

Not much happening right now so though I would tell you about a trip we took one time whilst on holiday. We were on a tiny (and I mean tiny) Caribbean island called Bequia which is reached via a very small plane from Barbados. Now not sure if you have ever been in a 10 seater plane which actually had 10 people on it but there is not much room especially after you put your own luggage on. I wonder if this is what sardines are thinking as the lid closes

Think I have said before I prefer airplanes to be big, actually the bigger the better. Anyway this was not big and you could feel every dip and climb. It got slightly better when most of the passengers got off at Richard Branson’s luxury island but not us. We are going to meet up with Judi’s parents who have already been there for a week or so. Landing on grass airstrips is also not something I look forward to however as they say any landing you can walk away from is a good one. Customs control was interesting it consisted of someone passing our case through a hole in the wall of the terminal building, I say terminal building I mean hut. The taxi was actually a pickup truck and we sit in the open back whilst the driver casually ambles to our final destination.

Bequia is one of those quiet islands not yet spoilt by the mass tourist trade. The main reason being that it is not easy to get to. 10 seater planes do not bring the volume of people needed to support a McDonalds or all inclusive resorts so it still retains that relaxed “we will get around to it sometime” atmosphere.

We hook up with Mike and Lan and find the little house we will be staying in. Mike is on a mission to make the perfect Rum punch (well some form or rum drink) and seems to be doing a fine job of the testing process.

When you live in a fast paced world it is difficult to just shrug it off and it takes a few days to settle in. I read a couple of books (I only really read on vacation) however the first book I read is about all the details of the World War II Normandy invasion was possibly not conducive to relaxing but the rum helped.

The island is so small that when I decide I want splash out one night and have Lobster for dinner Mike has to ring around all the local restaurants to see who has one. (now that’s a small island). Interestingly it is one of the few places where whaling is allowed the locals are ok to catch up to 4 humpback whales per year using traditional methods. I have no idea if they actually do as the culture seems to be more of a “maybe tomorrow” type of place.

This blog is actually about a trip we took from Bequia to St Vincent the closest island. There is a ship which shuttles back and forth between the two islands. Quite a nice looking ship actually an ex Norwegian fiord boat. Good and sturdy and not too small so by the Tuesday we have developed a taste for an adventure and hatch a plan that on Wednesday we want to take the aforementioned ship on the 1-1.5 hour journey to St Vincent a much bigger island (everything is relative). Not many people join us possibly only 3 maybe 4 (which should have been a clue). We sail off only 20 minutes after the schedule says which causes Judi to make some comments. (You know being late is never acceptable with Judi) so out of the bay and into the Atlantic. This is the point you suddenly start to fully appreciate the difference between a quiet calm Norwegian fiord and the Atlantic Ocean. This thing is rolling around like a barrel up and down and side to side and the sea is not even rough, it is just the shape of the boat is not designed for open water. Also of course true to local custom it is going very slowly. So slow in fact a small sail boat passes us which gives me some good photos whilst also being somewhat of an embarrassment.

We arrive and disembark only staggering around for a few minutes whilst we regain our balance. The place is a lot quieter than we had expected. In fact almost all of the shops are shut. Ok its Wednesday so possibly the traditional half day closing, its 2:30 pm so if they have closed for lunch it’s a long one. Anyway armed with a small map (and you thought Judi would not have one ? Shame on you) we make our way through what could be called the “town center” Mmmmm still no shops open and not many people on the streets although the ones we see are very well dressed. Smart black suits and clean white shirts for the men and the women are dressed as if it is a Sunday and they are on their way to church.

Of course they actually are. It would seem that a local Journalist / Politian had been shot dead a few days earlier in mysterious circumstances and was being buried this afternoon. The circumstances were that he was naked in in the back seat of his car at 1:30 in the morning and had been shot dead. Now that seems to be the plot line of a good thriller but that thought escapes me as we round a corner and find 90% of the population huddled around the local church. Now how conspicuous do you think two Caucasians dressed in shorts and bright shirts would look in the middle of several hundred people dressed for a funeral. Its one of those times when you have to just go with the flow. As quietly as possible we slip through the crowd. I desperately want to take some photographs but think this might inappropriate right now. There were some wonderful outfits and lots of somber faces, this contrasted to our straw hats and flip flops. You can not help but feel out of place and whilst none commented you got the sense we should maybe get the hell out of there. You need to know he seemed like a very popular guy and they were giving him a good send off. Everyone seemed to have turned out and the local Prime Minister Dr Ralph Gonsalves said that in his relatively short life-span, and an even shorter working life, Glen Jackson excelled in diverse roles and touched, for the better, the lives of thousands of persons; and he did so joyously and selflessly.

I read later that Scotland yard were sending forensic experts to assist in the investigation and the whole thing got very messy.

All a little too much excitement for us so we head back to the ship to wait for our roller coaster ride back to Bequia. Another interesting day and another experience to remember.

How many do we really need ?

I’m talking about blades on my razor (what else) I had inadvertently bought 5 blade heads for my 4 blade handle an easy mistake but an expensive one. No chance to return them given I am on a different continent so forced to buy a 5 blade handle.

Now why are you not keeping up with the latest trends I hear you ask (well I think I heard you ask). Do I really need that extra option to trim my sideburns I don’t think so I have never been able to grow any. So to put it simply I don’t need 5 blades I actually don’t need 4. I was very happy with 2 or maybe even 3 but time moves on. Once the world decided it could not live without adding yet another blade to its already high performing razors I had to reluctantly move along with it. The down side was the shave came so close I had to stop using aftershave as it actually hurt, not just the initial sting but it went straight through and man it made my eyes water.

Now I know from the initial trials that 5 is one too many I can not seem to complete the task without nicking myself. It may be that I so early in the morning my hand is not so steady or my eyesight that good. It may be the fact that peering into a foggy mirror and seeing my older brother Joe staring back at me is too much of a distraction but whatever the case 5 is one too many but of course now I have 5 brand new blades to get rid of. I am not disposing of them (that’s a pun) and to cap it all when I buy the handle guess what I get another 2 free so now I an around $20 down and know that I now have 6 weeks of “be careful” shaving to look forward to. Managed to cut myself twice already one quite severe and I think they originally called them “safety razors”.  My theme of impressing people with my array of crisp white shirts took quite a knock with clumps of dried blood on my face. (maybe nobody noticed (I think not))

Now one has to ask if all this is necessary I mean really necessary or is it just marketing pushing things forward. I already know I will not enhance my life by adding yet another metal strip. In fact it may even endanger me but maybe there are millions out there who are actually looking forward to the next generation of cutthroats and maybe would even preorder them like you do with Cd’s to download or books on Amazon before their release. The fact that for some reason you can not interchange blades with handles seems somewhat unfortunate how easy life would be if like Microsoft all things were backwards compatible but alas no this is not possible. Whilst we can put men on the moon (granted it was a while ago) see out to the farthest reaches of the universe. Send emails right around the world in the blink of half an eye we can not master having the same locking mechanism for razors made by the same company. One might even believe they may do it on purpose. I apologize for even thinking it.

There are many things which are new and improved however I am not sure they are life enhancing although my flat screed high definition TV could be said to make mine that little bit more palatable and of course I still miss the tivo.

I suppose I am destroying my own argument but still there are some things which don’t need incremental improvements what they need is radical changes like the leap from tape players to walkmans. Now that is a radical change so lets hope the next “improvement” in shaving is radical maybe the “No blade” razor now wouldn’t that be something.

“they are all short they are Japanese” I said

I was responding to the minder at the customs at Moscow’s Domodedevo airport who was instructing us to “choose the short queue” and given we had just landed behind a Jumbo Jet from Tokyo all the queues were full of “shorts” which is not stereotyping or racial profiling its just they are not tall. Anyway my humor was lost on her and I headed for the line with the least people in it.

As I wandered up 6 of these diminutive tourists step across so the queue was not that “short” by the time I joined it. My flights had so far gone quite well. A couple of hours hanging around OR Tambo airport in Johannesburg which is fine I can get into the lounge and play on face book. They have some good snacks but for some reason some terrible wines, one from Tasmania which given all the local choices seems slightly perverse of them. I also know where the smoking area is so not too much stress.

We had to get bussed out to out plane through a quite severe thunder storm, this is after waiting whilst all the crew filed passed (late) all laden with Duty free bags some so late they were on the bus with us the “Guests” we took off almost an hours late but given we are flying for around 10 hours I doubt we will be late in.

A couple of drinks and some fish later I am ready for sleep, so ready in fact that I fall asleep with my ear plugs and mask still in my hand. I had tried to watch a film with Michelle Pfeiffer in but got bored and flicked it off (she was on my laminated list I say was as I think I need to renew it and I fear she won’t make the cut). I was woken abruptly by loud talking and the clanking of cups. This is the point where I think the ear plugs would have saved me but no matter I get coffee then another and another. I should be awake by the time we land in an hour and a half.

The clocks do not go forward in South Africa so we get in around 5:20 am so lots of hanging around time. Customs in terminal 5 are very good and you can get from the plane to the street in 15 minutes. They do have some broken chairs which clutter up the place and seem to have been there for a couple of months making the first impression of the place less than ideal. Anyway I have my expenses to post so I try and find a Post Office I of course go to the Airport information who are not sure if they have one, I casually suggest they may want to Google it and they find on in terminal 3 but is does not open until 9 am and by the way they are on strike I am informed with a smile.

Wandering off to buy Judi some entertainment magazines and get some more coffee I pass a Marks & Spencer’s and pick up a couple of Pork pies (a very English thing).

I also pick up 2 CD’s live sessions from the BBC which if you like live music are extremely good value. I stick as much as I can into my case and get my ticket. These automated machines are a bit of a pain and it soon gets confused by an English man going to Moscow with a ticket purchased with an American Visa without a British Airways card and it suggests I get assistance ( I think I heard it sigh). Only a slight delay whilst someone checks my Russian visa and I am though to scanning which is always fun. They got the design wrong and there is no enough room for the hundreds of people queuing and the solution is a series of mini queues where nobody really knows where they are. The whole system is over engineered. It is almost worth a blog of its own. Just go with the flow ant 20 minutes later I am clear. I want another coffee but boarding is showing so decide to go straight through. The plane is possibly a third full and I have a whole exit row to myself. A snooze and a couple of coffee’s later and we land to light snow. I notice the Nippon Airways jumbo but was not quite prepared for the nigh on 400 tourists who have managed to slip off before us.

We are held up by the swine flu check. Not as bad as it used to be. They used to come on in gumboots latex gloves and masks as a team and keep you for 30 minutes. Now there is only one girl and as she passes me I am sure she gives me one of those “you again” sort of looks but maybe not.

So here I am in the queue which is going very slowly as these are first timers. One guy tries to go through the electronic gate too early and gets a rather nasty reproach from the burly customs girl. I did think for a moment she was going to call the boys over but it soon passes. Ok now only 4 in front of me and two customs girls. Then of course the crew arrive and it would seem the ratio of crew to passenger on Nippon Airways is quite high there is a long line of them and they are all going to get straight to the front of my queue. I barge over to another queue but now back in 12^th place. Deep breaths it will all be over soon. Ok through and waiting for my bag, excellent it comes quite quickly and out through the green channel. Nobody takes any notice of me as they are scanning the very small bag of a girl in tight leather trousers and 4 inch heeled boots. In fact all the guards seem to be involved in this exercise nice to see them being so though although given she could be described as stunning this may have influenced them somewhat.

Dashing through the airport (you have to go all the way to the other end) to get my train I wonder why the taxi drivers are a little more aggressive today. Buying my ticket I work it out I have just missed the 4pm and need to wait 55 minutes for the next one.

Now a guy in a blue suit and white shirt with loafers on standing on the snow laden station platform next to people in great coats hats scarf’s and gloves one feels who ever is playing “spot the tourist” will have an easy game.

Note to self pack some warmer clothes next time and get some decent winter shoes.

Back after the break they have lifted another ring into place and whilst a girl dangling from the roof is trying to distract us we are all actually watching them build a rickety cage and as expected it is soon filled with 5 lions 1 tiger and a rather reluctant and rather small black panther (or maybe a cougar who knows). Anyway the ring is quite small so they take it in turns to do their tricks. The tiger having seen it all before keeps falling asleep and the lions a left to lead the entertainment. Walking in and out of poles and jumping through hoops and over fire (quite small fire sticks actually). Out ring master is also the lion tamer however I doubt the animals are bothered. They go through their routine and then escape down the tunnel to what ever feast they get for supper. The Small black thing is last to leave and seems bent on refusing to be involved in any of the activities. I have to say the Tiger was rather large and I am sure had it wanted to it could have taken them all out with a couple of easy swipes of some huge paws.

Yet another ring is lifted up from the subterranean area and this one starts to fill with water. We muse maybe dolphins or at the very least sea lions. There is a lot of water being pumped into the thing and it takes probably 10 minutes to get to a decent depth. What do we get? We get “parrots” which seem pretty tame after all that build up and to cap it all one flies off into the rafters and can not be induced to come back. The handlers are probably the most scary part, the guy looks like he is albino far too pale but maybe it is the costume. Now parrots are colourful but not really attention grabbers so the act soon passes.

After this we get the boxing kangaroo which keeps forgetting the script and needs reminding to punch (then kick) its opponent who has a very hefty chest protection suit on. Maybe the water is to stop it gettign away or maybe they are just showing off that they have it anyway the significance escapes me.
After this they start to call it a day and we get another parade with all the girls and anyone else they can muster prancing around the outside of the ring. There is so much sparkle it is difficult to focus on any single item and it sort of fizzles out as the ring master and the young boy who started it all climbing a large set of stairs and waving as hard as they could until the lights come on and everyone get up to leave.

We queue for our coats along with everyone else and make our way to the exit and the Metro. All in all a very entertaining evening and one which will live in memory for a while. It is not often you get to visit one of these iconic things. I remember as a child watching the famous “Moscow State Circus” on the TV along with the annual Military Tattoo ( they pulled guns around and took them to pieces in a race ) and of course who could forget the Brian Rix Farce’s wich were also an annual event. (Hey its my blog so I will be as nostalgic as I want) Google these if you think my memory is failing I am getting on a bit now but they were a big deal back in the day.

 

And after a short interlude we will recommence with

Not quite sure where I left off but need to tell you about our visit to the “Moscow Sate Circus” something which was our surprise for Mike and Lan when they visited the other week. One of the reasons for the surprise was it did not allow them any time to say they objected given there would be animals involved and you never know these days what people object to. Anyway Mike worked out where we were going about 4 stops before we got off the Metro. You see there is still an art to decoding maps and working out where you are and what the options are.

The actual metro we were on was packed to the rafters as it was on the same line used by the Russian soccer fans on their way to the World cup qualifier with Germany being held locally which they lost however there were no riots or fights and given the high police presence and the massed ranks of army personnel hanging around not a complete surprise (you don’t mess with those guys you just do what you are told).

We emerge from the Metro opposite the State Circus building which is a huge round thing. You could tell we were in the right place as there were two humped camels and pony’s giving rides to excited kids. There were stalls selling bright coloured animals and windmills, you know those plastic things on sticks which no self respecting kid or adult in Western Europe would buy any more as they are not sophisticated enough don’t need batteries or have remote controls or 5 pages of warning about choking hazards or safety instructions.

The Russian kids I find still have an innocence and are allowed to be “children”. The rest of us hurry them through this phase and quickly into designer clothes and gameboys or what ever the current fad is. Not sure why we do this maybe we are embarrassed about them playing with a hoop and a stick or maybe we are paranoid about the fact they may even laugh and get a bit dirty (god forbid).

So into the building and to the cloak room which stretches right around the inside of the building. There is no charge for this it is a service given everywhere and needed given the weather is turning quite cool these days. I go off to try and find some sustenance to keep us going and joint a long queue to buy some coke and water. Now this is something the Russians need to get a grip of. There are 4 places to buy things serving the whole building. Each has one person serving and there are probably 3 thousand people in the audience. The Americans would have a booth every 5 meters and several people eagerly waiting to detach you from you money with a smile and an “enjoy the show”. Here it is still somewhat of an imposition to want to buy food or drinks but I eventually get to the front and a sour faced guy takes my money with a bored sigh.

Finding our seats we are surrounded by families with children in fact the place is crawling with kids. The show starts with a monolog from someone which we do not understand but I think it this young boy is talking about how he wants to grow up and run away to join the circus or something similar anyway this done the show starts with a flourish of lithe ladies in skimpy sequined costumes and large feathered headdresses flouncing about in the ring. A grand parade with performers wandering around in different directions all sparkling in the spotlights. A real circus begins with the acrobats jumping around and throwing and catching each other with “some” element of danger. Clowns entertain us as they clear the ring of some items and arrange the next. A troop of Dalmatians are next performing a routine which seems at times a little random although some of the dogs do seem distracted by the audience and have to be reminded it was their turn to jump over or through something.

There is a vast array of animals which is slightly surprising Horses, camels, various monkeys / chimps, antelope, zebra’s even porcupines. Now one has to ask how you train porcupine however their trick is to jump over a pole which is possibly something they could do in the wild anyway so maybe not that tricky really.

To set the mood for these antics the floor of the ring is littered with animal skins. Maybe as a scene setting or as a warning of failure for the cast. This seems to have an effect on one poor zebra who is galloping around with a monkey on its back it manages to slip on one of these skins and tumbles over. The monkey clearly confused that this is not part of the rehearsed script decides to make a break for it and dashes off in the direction of an exit. With several of the “minders” in tow. Getting to the exit it may have though it better not to given it did not have its coat check with it and it was cold outside and decides to come back into the arena. Not wanting to rejoin the antics in the ring it decides to wander around the audience ending up in the row right in front of us. It manages to terrify several people before deciding to settle down in a seat just in front of us to watch the rest of the show. I assume it just though I will sit here quietly and nobody will notice. Not much chance of that as several people close in on it and it quietly gets led away.

There is a ring master who I should have mentioned before as he seems to be the animal trainer for “all” of the none human acts. He is only slightly weird, that is his hair is too long and slicked back making him look a little creepy. He must have a lot of influence or someone would have had the nerve to tell him he looks a bit of a prat.

Maybe there will be a feedback form I could not it down on. Anyway he keeps reappearing in different costumes but always with a stick of some sort to make sure his prodigies keep to the script (escaping moneys exempt of course). Jo and Trina will remember our visit to the famous “Circus Apollo” in Conway where the girl who sold us our tickets was also the same one who sold us popcorn and balanced on the high wire and rode around on the horse troop, well similar to that this guy seemed to be everywhere doing everything.

An interlude is called after a couple of hours like a time out as there were no gaps in performances. A constant array of acts running around on two or four legs leaping up to or down off things. We stretch our legs but decline the opportunity to have our picture taken with an angora rabbit. Judi describes it as a “hat waiting to happen” which I find rather amusing.