A Day at the Museums

Grey skies and snow, what could be more Russian! Today is a day in Moscow, a cultural day if you will, where the objective is to visit two of Moscow's lesser known museums. The first the Gulag Museum and then onto the Bulgakov Museum..  

Both of these museums are within walking disrance of the Kremlin so we alight at Teatralana, meet Dave at McDonalds, consume a Big Mac and large fries and then head to the Gulag Museum.

The Gulag Museum is situated in very fashionable and expensive area of Moscow, on Petrovka Street, "Excuse me, could you tell me where the Gulag is?"

"Yes surely, it's just on the right past Louis Vitton!"
And indeed this is where the Gulag Museum is situated, tucked back a little way off the road, if you were not aware that it was there you would almost certainly miss it. The entrance is constructed as a Gulag camp entrance would have been, a sentry box on the left and barbed wire and lights lining the entranceway. Inside you climb a short flight of stairs and turn left to the ticket office. We paid our 100 rubles each and then were a little confused as to where to go. Ahead of us was a large room with a video playing and to the left was a set of stairs leading God knows where. However all was not lost for at exactly the right moment as if out of nowhere appeared an old lady who was ready to take us a around the place. First stop a reconstructed camp barracks with beds and stove. Certainly spartan! At least two people slept on each bunk and according to many accounts up to four people, pretty cozy.

I had just completed Anne Applebaum's "Gulag" which is an expertly researched and intelligently written account of the Gulag system from 1917 to its closure in the 1980's. At least 28.7 million people went through the Gulag system; and millions died. How many died is a matter of debate among scholars as records are hard to find relating to death and killings. Although the Gulag can be compared to Hitler's concentration camps there are some marked differences. the primary one being that no one was actually sent to the camps to die. In the 20's and 30' they were part of the economic machine that created wealth for the Soviet Union, mining, forestry, agriculture etc. The first camps were established in the time of the Czar's to imprison dissidents, after the Revolution dissidents constinued to be imprisoned at Solevky, a monastry complex on the White Sea. It was here that an enterprising individual named Frinkle, started the work system, this met with much enthusiasm from the leaders and soon become the basis on which camp life was established, with bread as the reward for work. The camp system expanded as the Soviet Union started to tap its enormous resources particularly in Siberia and the far North. At some points quotas wrere even issued for prisoners to fuel the camps! Anyone could get sent to the Gulag, and, unlike Hitler's system, was not targeted at any particular groups of people. The organization was profoundly inefficient and it was this inefficeinecy, particularly in food supply that led to the deaths of so many people. But, like I say this was not the main reason for the camps, it was a work machine, the "meat grinder" as Solzhenitsyn called iit.

After the barracks we made our way upstairs and were met by the English speaking museum guide, a young girl who looked like she had just lost a fight with her biro, she had a large smudge of blue ink below her lip and two more on her forehead, but it did not seem to demotivate her as she pointed to various maps and charts showing the locations and the size of the Gulags. She spoke incredibly fast, I wondered if there was a time limit, and if we were running short of time, I could see no other visitors that needed her attention, so concluded it was her style. We saw various exhibits, paintings, and home made items from the camps.

The museum is young, it was only established six years ago, and is State funded, it is the result of the endeavours of a camp survivor who is now in his 90's, and there is one wall of pictures and information dedicated to him. As our young guide pointed out, those who survived the camps have generally lived to a ripe old age, interesting we thought; some sort of scheme was starting to work its way into my head that should not have done and I pushed my thoughts aside. 

Soon we had seen all there was to see and after a few concluding questions we were finsihed. 

OK. here is the deal, this museum is dissappointing. Having been to the Holocaust museums in London and Washington it is really dissapointing and the reaon is that it lacks the human element, it is difficult to identify with the inmates, to feel what it was really like to be there, to feel that for a short poeriod of time you had been with them. and could see life from their perspective. The pile of shoes and suitcases in the Washington Holocaust museum, the names, the passport type document you are given when you enter with the details of one prisoner, make you feel like you know the individuals involved.

However it is more difficult for the Gulag history, there was no "liberation" of the camps, there is very little filmed detail of the camps, no one has made it a cause to track down psychotic camp gaurds or governors. Very sad. But hopefully over time they will gain more exhibiits more artifacts, more documentation and make this a real memorialof what was truly one of the most forgotten and ill comveived diasaters of the 20th century, and to the 28.7 million people and countless additional family and friends who all suffered as a result.

We leave the Gulag Museum and head across town to Teverskaya Street, it's cold, snowing and wet underfoot, perfect Moscow weather! We head North on Tverskaya until we reach Mocovskaya Metro and then take a left. In less than 200 meters we are at the entrance to the coutryard containing the Bulgakov museum, awesome! Bulgakov was a writer and playwright who lived in Moscow in the 30's and 40's. he was originally trained as a doctor but gave that up to pursue his literary carrer, He wrote during a time of great censorship and lived in fear of getting arrested and sent to the Gulag. He wrote his masterpiece "Master and Margarita" in the 30's. He then hid it and it was not published until 1966, 26 years after his death, by his wife. "Master and Margarita" is one of the great novles of the 20th century, if not the greatest, masterfully written it is fantastical, ironic, satirical and in a word brilliant!! A large part of the story centers around Apartment 50, in Moscow, this is where Bulgakov lived for 3 years and has now been turned into a visitor center, for Bulgakov enthusiasts.. Immediately on your left, as you enter the courtyard, is the Bulgakov Museum, this is not in Apartment 50 but in the partment block next to it. The museum is on the first floor. This is a bustling active place, people everywhere, lots of arty farty types; there is a music recital going on behind some closed doors, and old ladies are bustling round organizing God knows what! In a number of rooms you can see Bulgakov related stuff, typewriters, clothes, pictures etc etc. All excellent and exhibited in a relaxed atmosphere that gives a genuine insight into the lifestyle and the times in which he lived.

Howver I was keen to get to Apartment 50 and we hotfooted it down the courtyard to the entrance to the apartment. On enetering the door you have to proceed up 4 flights of stairs, the stairwells are lined with graffiti, brilliant!! It is just as it should be slightly chaotic, and mysterious, the graffiti adds to, not detracts from the experience; there are passges written from the book, drawings, messages and some great art work all done on the walls. Apparently they painted over it all about 5 years ago, but it all came back, good! The doors to Apartment 50 are tall, on openeing them you enter a long passageway with doors on either side. The first door on the left is the cloakroom where you just sort of put your coat where you can, very un Russian this, as ususally they check everything in meticulously, but here there is a feeling you are amongst friends and so no need, nice touch. I am starting to think, "he lived in some style this Bulagakov, very large apartment for the times, very nice crib", it was then pointed out to me that this was a communal aprtment in which 9 families lived with one toilet and one kitchen, not so good. Communal aprtments were dreadful, and have been a feature of Russian life, in cities for a long time. Ayn Rand describes it brilliantly in her book "We The Living" as does Dostoevsky in "Crime and

Punishment" It was tough living, fights would frequently break out in the kitchen, and in Soviet times people had to cook on primus stoves. The kitchen in Apartment 50 is just as it would have been back then, complete with primus stoves and all the paraphenalia of 9 familes trying to seperate their stuff from each other. Bulgakovs room, where he lived with is wife, is quite small, it has his writing desk, his miror, and the bed frame. According to a very earnest young man who looked at us from under his eyebrows and was incredibly serious, it was still the original door to the rooom! The remaining rooms conatin exhibits and pieces from life in those times. The aprtment is also the home to a Theatre Group and there was no end of people coming and going to a meeting in one of the rooms. Photos of the Thetare Group were on display which gave it a great "lived in feel". As I walked round, I could imagine the events that unfolded here in "Master and Margarita" and enjoyed every minute of it. It is just right, everything about it, and on top of that you know that everyone who visits is a Bulgakov fan, older people, younger people, kids even, all enjoying the ambience that has been created in this historic place. We asked our earnest friend if "Patriach's Pond" was nearby, seven minutes walk he said. Next stop "Patriach's Pond"! This is where the opening scene of the book takes place on a warm spring evening. We made our way there under slightly different weather conditions, but neverthless it was a joy to walk round and again imagine the scenes unfolding as in the book. It is exactly as described, totally unspoilt, and a must see for Bulgakov fans.

It was getting dusky by now, so we hopped on the metro to Arbat, a short stroll to the John Donne for a couple of Greene Kings and a meal and then back to Konakovo. An interesting day, a visit to the Gulag, and a visit to the home of a genius who was broken by the thought of going to the Gulag.

   

Moscow - By Day

Moscow, the spiritual, political and financial center of Russia, is one of the great cities of the world. An ancient city that has been rejuvenated over the last 15 years, it is clean, hospitable and endlessly interesting. Every time I go I find something new that I had not seen before or find an even more fascinating shop or cafe. Today we have a group of us, three Americans, an Australian, a Russian and myself; our goals, sightseeing and some shopping in the centre of Moscow. We exit the Metro at Teatralana, right in the heart of the centre, across from our exit we can see the Bolshoi Theatre, but we turn right and head towards Tverskaya Street. This is because we are desperate for a McDonalds!! OK, maybe desperate is an overstatement, but after five to six weeks without any fast food, the thought of a BigMac and large fries plus coke is highly motivating. We pass the Duma on our right, the home of the Russian Government, a huge granite fronted building with a guard on duty out front, behind barriers. To the left we can see the Kremlin, we go under the road, all of the centre has convenient underpasses under the main streets; these are home to a wide variety of shops, selling everything from jewellery to lingerie. I often wonder who actually shops here, I mean buying lingerie in an underpass strikes me as somewhat odd, but I guess for the busy comrade rushing home these shops are a delight. Anyway we soon reach McDonalds and settle in to eat our brunch. The McDonalds on Tverskaya was the first McDonalds in Russia, and was established during Soviet times, on the day of opening it is claimed that the line was over 5 kms long, stretching down to the Kremlin and around the inner ring road. This McDonalds is flagship first class stuff, very clean very chic and comfortable, it even has some sort of McCafe place in one corner where you can relax on sofas and drink designer coffee and eat fancy pastries, I avoid it like the plague.

After refreshing ourselves at MickeyDs we head back down Tverskaya to the Kremlin and Red Square. From our slightly elevated position on Tverskaya you get a great view of the city walls with the Kremlin behind it. As we head up to the gates and the entrance to Red Square we pass street vendors selling all the tourist stuff, Tshirts, Russian dolls, mugs, Russian hats. It is here that Steve, American, spots a particularly tacky Tshirt, featuring a cartoon fat Russian bouncing an enormous jug of beer on his even more enormous belly, Steve wants this Tshirt; I am called over to conduct the transaction, but unfortunately, or fortunately, they do not have one in his size. However we have not heard the last of the Tshirt.

Passing through the gates we are on the North side of Red Square the view is stunning. St Bails in the distance slightly shrouded in haze, the Kremlin to the right, close by is the Russian Museum and to the left the Church of the Ascension. As we walk down the length of Red Square, it is impossible not to think of the military parades that were such powerful images in the West, growing up as we did during the height of the Cold War. None of us ever imagined that one day we would be taking a leisurely stroll through Red Square. We take photographs of all the correct places marvel at the beauty of St Basil's and then head back, with the Gym, ( pronounced Goom) store on our right. The Gym is an enormous department store, located on the ancient market site that was just outside the city walls. It is very upmarket, very expensive and very beautiful. We walk the length of the store and come back onto Red Square. Lots of tourist groups are coming in at this time, we see Chinese, Japanese and even a group of Indonesians all dressed in blue robes and smoking clove scented cigarettes. The lines are forming to visit Lenin's mausoleum, always popular for tourists the line stretches a long way. We make our way out of Red Square declining to have our photos taken with Stalin, Lenin and Napoleon look alikes, and turn left down to Alexandrovsky Park.

Next stop the tomb of the unknown soldier. This is a really interesting place, it is guarded by two soldiers and a third who comes out to check them every twenty minutes, they change soldiers every hour. Here is the interesting piece, these soldiers are picked because they all look the same, they measure their height, their facial measurements, hair color and if they fit the profile they are selected for this duty. Every Russian male has to serve one year in the army, but to get this gig is considered a real honor. They train for nine months for this duty and then stand at the tomb of the unknown soldier for one hour and then that's it, they are discharged having completed their service to Mother Russia. The Russians lost 20 million in the Second World War and there is always a crowd of people here photographing and being photographed, soldiers are also allowed to lay flowers at the memorial where the eternal flame burns.

We walk through Alexandrovsky park, past the fountains and then enter an underground department store that I didn't know was here until I discovered it on my third trip to Moscow! It is bizarre, built recently, slightly down market from Gym but still plenty of good shops. It is here that I start to glimpse the shopping abilities of Scott and Steve, the two Americans; they are into everything. If the rest of the group had not intervened we would have been there for the rest of the day, pleasant as it is I did not really want to spend the next eight hours, three floors underground.

So, we finally get out and we are heading back up Tverskaya Street. I point out the world clock that is mounted on the corner of the Telegraph building. This clock, which revolved and told the time in numerous time zones around the globe, mysteriously, some would say supernaturally, stopped, when the Soviet flag finally came down in 1991. We then continue past a wonderful bookshop on the right and then past the Mayor's headquarters with the statue of the founder of Moscow, Uri, seated on a horse opposite. We then reach one of the highlights of our trip, the supermarket in Catherine the Great's palace ballroom. It is superb, not just for the great, reasonably priced food, but the ornate decortaions are stunning, huge gilded chandeliers, wonderful cornices and pictures, it is beautiful. The food is great and I pick up some marmalade and peanut butter, along with some wonderful salsa and Tostitos. It is here that we find, in the fish display, the largest shrimp I have ever seen, I call our Aussie over,

" Hey blue! Look at these shrimp mate, how do they compare to the ones you sling on the barbie back in Oz?"

He walks over obviously confident that whatever they have in Moscow will be poor fare compared to Aussie shrimp! He takes one look and is stunned, word's fail the poor chap, he makes a sort of gurgling sound I think he might faint, and grab his arm,

"You alright blue?" I ask,

" Yeah mate I'm alright, what shrimp mate! Never seen bloody shrimp like that mate, never mate! Where they from?"

"Russia" I reply.

He is speechless and we move on.

Having got some much needed provisions, and some water to help Aussie Dave recover we carry on to the next intersection, where we go under the road and exit on Tverskaya Boulevard. This is a beautiful walkway, built by Catherine the Great for her nobles to stroll down in the evenings it is quiet, tree lined and quite long. The houses on each side tell of the time when the nobles and aristocracy lived in some style in Moscow. There are benches on either side, and this is a great time to take the weight off, kick back and do some people watching. I think it must be an English thing, I could spend a whole day sitting on a park bench, enjoying the warm weather and people watching. Unfortunately the woman on the bench next to us, sadly appears to be living on a park bench, she has all her worldly possessions laid out on her bench to air in the warm sun. Couples and families stroll by and while I am enjoying myself, it appears that this is not much fun for the rest of the team so we get up and head down to Nikitski Boulevard which will eventually lead us to Stari Arbut.

It is a warm day, maybe it will be the last warm day of an historically hot year, and as a result it seems most of Moscow is out enjoying the day. On Nikitski we reach an expat favourite in Moscow the "John Donne" pub. Serving real English beer and great English food it is a meeting place for beer and sports lovers on Saturdays and Sundays, when they televise Premier League and European football. We slip into here and have a couple of refreshing pints of Fuller's bitter and then head on down to Stari Arbut.

Stari Arbut is an ancient street in Moscow, and is now a pedestrian walkway, cobbled, it is lined with restaurants, tourist shops and cafes. It is really the tourist centre of Moscow, and stretches for about two kilometres. It also has excellent street performers, artists, dance troupes, trick cyclists, musicians and comedians. Steve soon noticed that the very same Tshirt he had seen near the Kremlin was on sale in the tourist shops here, surely it would not be difficult to find one in his size? To cut a short story long we ended up going into every Tshirt type shop on Arbut, there must be close to a hundred!! At the end of it I was exhausted and Steve had not got a Tshirt! But, he did meet a lot of people and after we had had a beer at the Hard Rock and were heading back down Arbut, the good friends he had made on the way up Arbut, were smiling and waving at him like he was a long lost relative!

After Arbut it is time to head home, we catch the Metro and we are soon back at Leningradsky, then the train home to Konakova, our batteries recharged and ready for the weeks ahead, until our next day trip.

Day Trip - The Train

Life in Konakovo can get, if not boring, samey. It is not a big town and options are limited to the market, cafe and Volga. So a day trip to Moscow is a welcome opportunity to escapes it's confines and get a shot of civilization for a day.

The train, an electric train run off overhead cables called surprisingly "the elektrtishski" runs frequently to Moscow. The one we want leaves at 7:25 on Sunday mornings. The beauty of the Russian train system is that the trains do actually run exactly on time, not one minute late or early. Growing up in England 7:25am meant anytime before lunch, so this is a wonderful experience. For this daytrip we have Steve, Scott, Dave, Tom and Tanya and of course myself who organizes, translates and generally makes sure we get there and back and have a good time. Taxis are ordered and we all meet at the station at the appropriate time. Tickets are purchased, one way, for 226 rubles, and we are good to go. The train is not exactly luxurious the seats are plastic or wooden benches which numb your backside after about 30 minutes, but getting up and walking about a bit helps. The train takes two and a half hours so a book and ipod is essential for the early part of the journey, later on as more people get on board and the train vendors start to operate people watching makes the time pass quickly.

There is only one class on the train, but there are three classes of passenger. There are those passengers who actually purchase a ticket, like ourselves, we are in the minority. There are those people who pay on the train, the ticket checkers come by three times on the journey, they charge a non ticket holder 50 rubles each time so a total of 150 rubles a significant saving of 76 rubles. Then there are the non payers, as the ticket checkers make their way down the train, people get up out of their seats and start to walk ahead of them, eventually this becomes a herd of humans moving up the train. Eventually one of two things happen, at an appropriate station they will run out of the train back down the platform and enter the train again behind the ticket checkers, this is a risky business and only for the young and fit, those who are unable to do this end up in the last compartment where they are locked in. They are then let out at Moscow, without paying, and just left to go on their way! It really is a tremedous transport system, run on the pay as you are able basis.

Anyway we are on the train, if not exactly hurtling to Moscow, making good progress. Unlike the Metro system where one takes a vow of silence to enter it, people chat and talk freely on the elektrishki. Soon our accents and language give us away and a group of three teeneagers come over, nervously, to investigate. "Whare are we from?" What are we doing here?" When we explain that we are from America, Australia and UK they look at us in disbelief. When we explain to them further that we work in Russia and that we enjoy it, they are incredulous. They look like life has played a very cruel joke on them, all they want to do is get out of Russia and here are foreigners living and working here, in Russia, who enjoy it! Once over the shock, they chat about their lives, they are students, on a day trip to Klin, a large town about an hour from Konakovo, they learnt English at school but only can remember a little, they love all things Western and would love to live in the USA. They ask us if we have seen JayZ, Snoop Dog, or Fifty Cent, we ask do they mean on TV or what, they say "No, just walking around the place, have you seen them?" we have to reply "No" which seems to disappoint them somewhat and makes us wonder if they wonder wether we are for real or not!! They are good fun though, and we have a good chat to them as we approach Klin.

Klin is a large town on the road from Moscow to St Petersburg, it has an enormous glass factory, Europe's largest, and manufactures glass for skyscrapers. It is a large employee in the region and a close shopping center for Konakovites. Klin is a psychological waypoint, on the way to Moscow you have another one and a half hours to go, which does not seem too bad, on the way back you have one hour left which seems no time at all. The rush of endorphins does wonders for your bum, which by this time has completely lost any feeling, and settling a littel more comfortably on the seat you believe you can easily put up with the relative discomfort. The country stations come and go, the train stops at every station, the doors open, albeit briefly at the small stations and the announcers says, "stand clear the doors are closing" once closed the next station is announced and we are on our way.

The countryside is interesting, villages and dacha communities pass by, I love the dachas and imagine myself owning one. Just a small one, maybe two rooms a large garden, an outside toilet and a small banya. I would grow tomatos and some vegetables, onions of course, and green peppers. In the evenings other dacha owners would come over we would drink some vodka, eat pickles and fish, discuss our gardens; discuss our renovations or expansions to our dachas. Maybe I could build a goat shed, goats milk I love, this would attract more friends and livestock husbandry as well as agronomy would be discussed. This daydream actaully lasts for quite a long time and looking up I see the thickening approach of appartment blocks, we are approaching Zelonegrad on the outskirts of Moscow.

At this point, or maybe a little earlier, the train vendors start to appear. Selling all sorts of stuff they stand at the end of the compartment and give their pitch. First up is a very enthusiastic women selling cosmetics, she is able to hold every sample in one hand while pointing them out with the other, her "piece de resistance" is a leg cream that if you were to believe her would make the lame walk, unfortunately nobody buys anything and she moves on. Next up a guy selling train time tables and maps, his selling point is that he has had his photo, copied onto the front of his merchandise, he is not an overly handsome guy and a sunset or a tree would have been more effective, but I admire his salesmanship and buy a train time table for 15 rubles. Next we have three soldiers, one plays guitar, one sings and one has one leg missing, they are collecting money for their disabled mate and for others like him, they sing a soldier's song, not bad, and so we each give 10 rubles. Next we are treated to a guy selling flashlights, every type immaginable, he has a secret weapon, an amplifier strapped to his belt and a microphone sort of starpped to the side of his head, very enterprising, we can all hear him, but alas the demand for flashlights at 9:30 in the morning on the elektrshski to Moscow is not overwhelming. Finally we have the video and DVD seller, his lack of passion for the job is stark compared to his enterprising colleagues, he needs some training, we all agree. Voice projection, postutre and some flair in displaying his products could increase his turnover by 20%. I decide to go into the train vendors consulting business, as we pull into Leningradsky Vauxhall.

From Leningradsky we get onto the Metro system, the ticket we purchesed to get the elektrishski has a bar code on it which gets you free entrance to the Metro. Finally the non- payers meet their Waterloo as they have to line up for ever to get a 40 ruble pass to the Metro. The Moscow Metro has to be the most beautiful, effective, cleanest and cheapest metro I have ever had the pleasure to travel on. Firstly it is an architectural wonder, as we walk onto the platform at Komcomolskaya the golden chandeliers cast their yellow light over white and black marble. The mahogany benches are polished to a shine and the scale makes you feel like you are in a stadium. For 26 rubles you can travel anywhere on the Moscow Metro system, when you exit, if you want to get back on you buy another ticket, but all is electronic so you can puy a ticket with 4 trips, 6 trips whatever you want, each time you use it the electroic display at the terminal tells you how many more trips you have left on your ticket.

During the day and quite late into the evening a train runs every 90 seconds, you could actually spend the best part of a day travelling on the Metro looking at the great architecture and the statues and reliefs on the stations, for instance on Partizanskaya there are huge bronze statues depicting all aspects of Soviet life, the teacher at school. the mother, the worker, the soldier all working together in joyous harmony for the good of the Motherland.

We take the red line to the center, we get off at either Lybyanka, famous for its infamous prison during Soviet times, the building is still there, or at Teatralana close to the Bolshoi and Red Square. We spend the day in Moscow, the subject of my next blog, and catch the 8:55pm back to Konakovo. The journey is uneventful, we are all tired and ready to be home. During the summer I caught the train back one evening, it was unbearably hot, the windows in the compartment were open but provided no relief; an enterprising comrade managed to find two beer bottles, giving one to me, unfortunately it was empty, he explained how at the next station we would jam the beer bottles sideways between the closing doors. This effecting some serious airflow through the compartment by jamming the compartment doors open. This we accomplished and then in a totally unselfish act he encouraged all the occupants of the comaprtment, there were about ten, to sit in the seats nearest these doors. The air, though warm, whistled through the compartment, everybody was smiling wth relief, wiping sweat from their brows and necks they positioned themselves to get the maximum benefit. Me and the guy would get up at every station grabbed the beer bottles as the doors opened and then replaced them as they clsoed. Brilliant, Russian ingenuity at its finest, these people are definitely survivors!

The Banya

The Banya has been an integral part of Russian life for centuries. Originally every village had a banya, it was where the towns people washed, cleaned up and got refreshed, as no houses had bathrooms. The banya was a weekly event for all Russians. Every town has a sort of central banya and out in the country many homes have a banya. The banya is a steam bath, rocks are heated by fire and then water poured on the rocks to create steam and heat. After your core body temperature approaches nuclear reactor level, you go out and frolic in the snow, or if there is no snow available pour large quantities of cold water over you.

Anyway, as a sort of late birthday celebration our good friend Valera invited us to his parents banya in the old part of Konakovo. Valera and his father built this about 7 years ago. out of logs. Not very big it has three rooms, one is the sort of relaxing, eating area about 4ms x 2 ms. This also has the fire box in it with a chimney up the central portion of the banya. The next room is where you get undressed put on swimming shorts or wrap a towel around you and houses the cold water, as it was not winter we could not run about in the snow so we had cold water here. Then there is the banya, quite small, about five to six people can fit in it, be warned if you go with Scot and Tom this goes down to three people, unless you are not worried about serious physical contact.

Of course, as we are in Russia, serious eating and drinking are all part of the experience and armed with 8kgs of freshly marinated pork neck, large quantities of chips, bread, beer and vodka we head to the banya.

The fire has been lit for about an hour, but it is not quite hot enough to go in yet, so we chill a little drink some beer and chat. About forty five minutes later we are good to go. Sebregt and I decided to go first. There are three benches in the banya, the top one is where you feel the most heat, but there is only enough room between the bench and the ceiling for a circus performer, however, I manage to wedge myself in there and Sebregt handles the water. A wooden ladle is used to throw the water through a small opening onto the rocks, OK here was the first training need identified - DO NOT stand in front of the opening when you throw the water in! A jet of steam hisses out hitting our Dutchmnan right in the mid rift and sinking him to the floor, I cannot respond quickly due to my confinement on the top bench, however the Dutch are made of stern stuff and he appears to make a quick recovery, well he didn't do that again! So not only is he tough he is a quick learner. Three or four ladles follow in succession and the heat is really intense, sweat is not the word it just pours off us, about 10 - 15 minutes is all we can manage and then out to the cold water. It really is best if someone pours the water over you but Sebregt and I decided on the more European approach of DIY the first time round. My God the water was cold and an involuntary sort of half groan half yelp comes out of you.

Then it's too the table for beer and shashlik. Russians do drink vodka at the banya but the preferred beverage is beer, to replace lost body fluids. Vodka is not very good for that.

Next up the ladies, while we wander around outside and admire the garden, the rabbits and the general lay of the land. Valera's father comes over to check that we are having a good time and shares some vodka with us, 100g each and the banya is starting to turn into quite the experience.

OK now it's the American's turn but Sebregt and I are up for another go, so we all squeeze in, then Andrew decides to come in. As you can see form the pics he is the BIG guy, I mean quite frankly there is not much room left when he is there on his own, so with six of us in there it is wall to wall flesh. God it's hot, Andrew is throwing water on the rocks like there is no tomorrow. I am sitting on the bottom bench but where the steam sort of hits the opposite wall, it's hot! Then we start to hear this sort of moaning noise, is someone in distress? No, it's only Steve making the only noises he knows how to in this sort of setting, he truly is a primordial being our Steve! We last until we can't stand it and then hit the cold water, Steve is now making noises that make me wonder if he has suffered brain damage in there, but after a beer and a couple of shots of vodka he appears his normal self.

The shashlik is delicious, you get a real appetite in the banya and snacking all afternoon is part of the experience. We now put on sort of stupid felt hats, the objective is to prevent heat escaping through your head, thereby increasing your body temperature faster and more intensely. I can't say I really cared for it myself but hey, all part of the day.

The rest of the afternoon carries on much like this, taking it in turns with the ladies we steam up, cool down rapidly, eat and drink. Andrew manages the fire, Tanya the Shashlik and we share duties on the drink.

It all passes too quickly and Andrew has passed out! Steve is really enjoying hinself now, hopping in and out of the banya, he appears to be in his element. Unfortunately there are no publishable pictures of him! We are refreshed, clean, and in amazingly good spirits as we leave the banya. It really is a great tradition, good food, a good time and therapeutic, what more can you ask for! A good time was had by one and all.