My new hotel (the Hotel Turist) is a real dump, kind of like a cross between a youth hostel and dormitory built in eight massive "blocks." Everybody is typically unfriendly and unhelpful, and the free breakfast was a jar of instant coffee, hot water, a slice of bread and a wrapped slice of welfare cheese (American cheese) in a strange little room. The lift didn't work, and there is no hot water from the beginning of May until June 1!! I have to get on the train to get a hot shower!
I must say, though, that so far Moscow is quite pleasant-- very green, lots of trees everywhere, and my hotel is in the middle of a park-like place. Everybody strolling around, drinking cans and bottles of beer all the time, sitting on benches in groups of old people and young people just blabbing . . . and drinking. The air too, as in St. Petersburg, is quite clean and refreshing-- very different from most of the other cities of this size I have been in around the world.And!! Happy Happy, I finally got my Trans Siberian train
ticket yesterday!! After all the crap Intourist put me through I was nervous. . . I kept calling the phone number they gave me from the time I arrived, and either there was no answer or somebody spoke in Russian and when I answered in English they hung up! Yesterday I finally got through to a pleasant women, and she said that the ticket had been delivered to the Hotel Cosmos, one quick subway stop away from my depressing dump hotel.So, intrepid Metro rider that I have become, I jumped on the train and went to this huge casino-hotel, had a beer, and picked up my ticket! So that made me
happy. . . AND, I had absolutely no problem brining my Jim Beam on the flight here in the morning. Although I almost missed the plane because I wasn't sure which airport (Pulkovo 1 -- mostly domestic but some international flights, or Pulkovo 2, mostly international but some domestic flights, and my e-ticket simply said "Pulkovo" and the Siberian Airlines website was no more informative and nobody would make a phone call for me), and of course at the airport (I went extra early to the domestic one in case I had to switch, but I lucked out) there were no signs in English, the flight number was not the same as on my ticket, and nobody would do anything other than say "Nyet" if I asked a question or showed them my ticket.I barely got in the right line, slipped through the security check, and when asked to show the contents of my plastic "duty free" bag I opened it up, the guy smiled and gave me the thumbs up, and waved me to my flight! Whereas in the States they confiscated my shampoo.
So. Hell one moment, Heaven the next.
Still, I am happy to be getting out of this place. Russia and the sullen/surly/rude thing does get boring and depressing pretty quickly. I am spoiled from places like Japan and Thailand. Surly and unhappy, except for the kids and young folks, who seem to have much more fun. Maybe everybody over 30 is scarred from the past or something. I have some great pics of kids doing gymnastic flips off the wall in front of the Cosmo Hotel, and kids are "snogging" (smooching) everywhere, including on the wall overlooking Lenin's tomb! And, of course, drinking beer in the streets.
The Kremlin is amazing, truly hard to describe. What I thought were huge buildings in St. Petes are nothing compared to the Kremlin. . . . it goes on and on, surrounded by onion-topped churches (or something) and one of the largest, hugest, longest buildings I have ever seen, all ornate 
and carved and marble and granite and 15 foot windows and glass and . . . it is a high-end shopping arcade! Armani, Gucci, Hugo Boss, Faberge, and more. . . Alicia would love it.My two hats are working well-- the Kangol cap and the Japanese JozipF. military-style one--nobody else here wears hats at all, and both of mine apparantly give my a slightly russkie look-- one a kind of military tougher look and the other a more middle-class prof sort of thing. . . in any case, I have numerous times been approached and asked for directions!
My feet hurt. . . I walk and walk and walk. . . in part because I don't know where
I am going and don't know how to use taxis (everybody says "avoid taxis, they are the mafia and will rob you"), and in part because that is just what I do when traveling in order to just wander around and see what the normal folk are doing. In any case, I look forward to getting on the train and doing nothing and only walking to the restaraunt car now and then. I even bought some postcards to write and while away the time-- hope that some station will have a post-box to put them in.And oh yes-- hookers! In my last hotel there were, every night, 3 or 4 older fatter trashy looking women hanging out in the lobby, and if you looked in their direction they worked hard to make eye contact and smile invitingly. . . one even beckoned me over. . . shudder! And then, last night, about eleven or so (after a really good "Georgian" meal of stewed veal, some sort of baked beans, and various pickled thingies), I am getting ready to sleep and the phone rings! What the hell???? Who knows I am here? Did I leave something at the restaraunt? A bad English voice: "Russian girl massage? Massage Sex?" "Nyet, nyet, nyet!!" Oh well.
So that's it. I am checked out of my hotel, will take the Metro over and find the train station and check my luggage for the day (train leaves at 9:21 pm) begin Phase Two.
I miss all you folks-- send me a picture of a boat or something!
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