There is nothing more interesting than sharing your overnight sleeper train with a naked Russian - what an introduction! Vodka and overnight nudity are an interesting mix on a train journey. No, it was not Brad in a shapku ushanka. Welcome to Moscow.
Oh, it burns my precious, it burns! The wind strips back our flesh and slowly grips us vice like; dragon breath is expelled and we layer our body ready for the assault as we step forward on to the streets of Moscow. As we briskly walk to stimulate circulation the Sara Lee ad plays through our mind, 'layer upon layer after layer'.
The Metro is the easiest way to navigate down town Moscow; however, nothing and we do mean nothing is written in English. The Metro is a working museum: Mosacics, chandeliers, bronzed statutes and marble busts adorne every station and all depict the stuggle, the notion that nation comes before self-interest and the sacrifice the fore fathers made. Six million people use the Metro each day and we reckon we met many of them on our Metro journeys. A tin of sardines would have had more space than we did. The rules of getting off and on the train are pretty simple, you push and shove and you hold your ground, nothing more and nothing less.
Our 5 stop journey took us to Moscow's Red Square. It is interesting to note that Red in feudal Russian means beautiful and we can concur with this. A cobbled square brings you to the Church of St. Basil, the embalmed Grandfather Lenin lies waxed like in his mausoleum watching out over all that he created and the all imposing Kremlin with its red brick enbankment frames the entire square. Golden domes, colourful onion, a bell that never rung sits adjacent to cannon that was never fired and Tsars were married, crowned and buried within the walls of the Kermlin.
The Red Square, home of emperors, tsars and revolutionaries is truly an amazing place.
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