Anyway, following this we caught the metro to Red Square and met Leo and Matt to visit St Basil’s Cathedral, which, although less impressive inside than out, was still very interesting and worthwhile. I’m not sure that I’ve ever been in a two storey church before. A quick last minute visit to the outdoor market to buy matryoshki preceded lunch once again in McDonald’s. Well, you never know when you’re next going to be fed do you?

Back at the hostel we nervously checked the airport website and saw that our flight was still scheduled, meaning that it was time to begin the journey there, cases in tow. After several stops and much cursing we managed to get all our possessions safely onto the metro which brought us to the train station. We paid R300 for our tickets and hopped on the train to the airport, sitting opposite a selection of soldiers. The journey was approximately 45 minutes, giving me just enough time to have a nap and get over the travails of having dragged about 40 kilos of luggage behind me.

When we arrived at the airport we immediately completed online check in and queued to get rid of our burdensome cases. Mine rang up at 22kg; precisely 2 over the allowed limit but luckily I wasn’t charged any excess. Others who were slightly more overweight weren’t so lucky. Elated to be one bag down, we made our way to Subway to ensure that the trip had come full circle. Having stuffed our faces, it was time to go through the security checks, which were actually fairly lax to say that we were in a major international airport. Very little attention seemed to be being paid to the contents of the bags on the x-ray scanner and we were ushered through quickly.

Once in departures I bought a bottle of water and yet another key ring to use up the last of my roubles, leaving me with the equivalent of around £1. Our flight was supposedly half an hour delayed, and as I watched another flight from Moscow take off I began to hope that ours would do the same shortly. In the event we were delayed by around an hour and a half, though this was the best we could realistically have hoped for- we were glad just to be flying. Again, the pre-flight checks were very lax and we were more or less shepherded onto the plane.

The flight was once again great, with Christmas dinner, salad, cake, juice and two small bottles (ok, half a full bottle) of 13.5% wine for dinner. I began to watch Salt but decided it was more enjoyable to sit and chat with Matt and Ashley instead. Behind us were sat a selection of the twenty or so English people who we later discovered comprised to roadie crew of Florence and the Machine- hence the vast amount of baggage they had been checking in.

When we came in to land at Heathrow the feeling was one of elation, which only continued when we made it through passport control and into the baggage reclaim hall, which was laden with unclaimed cases. My luggage arrived fairly speedily, followed by all the others, except that of Ashley. Eventually, we realised it was simply not coming and he headed to the nearest help desk to fill in the appropriate forms. Not the best end to an otherwise good flight.

But we couldn’t dwell on it too long, as our relatives were waiting for us in arrivals. It was wonderful to see the parents again, and we very quickly said our goodbyes to one another and went our separate ways. The journey home was going to take a while; particularly as the sat nav first took us the wrong way and dad then went the wrong direction up the M25.

Still, it was great to be back in Blighty and heading home. We dropped Ashley off at around 1am and arrived back in Wollaton half an hour later. I walked inside the house, greeted the family and realised that yes, English houses are quite cold.

Unfortunately the gallery is one of those annoying places with a duel pricing policy for foreigners and Russians, meaning that even though we got student prices (R220), these were foreign student prices. However, you can’t go to Moscow and not do the Tretyakov so we spent the rest of the morning perusing the vast number of rooms of old Russian masters before hitting up the souvenir book shop.

By this time it was around 1.30 which means one thing: lunch. Unfortunately there was no conveniently located McDonald’s (what has become of me?!) so instead we decided to do the Art Muzeon sculpture park, billed as an eerie place full of Soviet-era sculptures. Here we did manage to fool the attendant into thinking we were Russian students, meaning we paid just R10 for the pleasure. This was indeed a good thing, as I certainly wouldn’t have paid any more- most of the ‘park’ was filled with bits of trellis, portaloos and the odd small sculpture.

Disheartened, we headed to the cafe within the park and had a quick lunch of very average food, though luckily the prices reflected this. We then decided to leave as soon as we could find an exit and head to the New Tretyakov Gallery housing 20^th century Russian art. En route we realised that the park was actually better than we had given it credit for and that there were some Communist party figures to be found.

Inside the gallery we paid another R220 (or R200 in Leo’s case) and went off on another multi-hour art perusing session. I’m not ashamed to say I enjoyed this gallery much more than the main Tretyakov, as the art was modern but not garbage. If that makes sense. Let’s just say, the work had plenty of artistic merit unlike some I could name. Most of the artists featured I was not familiar with, though I was looking forward to seeing Kandinsky, which in the end turned out to be dwarfed in my opinion by some of the other pieces I saw.

By around 5.30pm we had seen all there was too see (and all our feet could bear) so after a short break we made for Gorky Park. By this time it was dark, cold and windy so Charlotte and I took the opportunity to take our leave of the guys and go for a drink in what turned out to be rather a posh bar. We naturally went for the cheapest thing on the menu and were grateful for the warmth and large comfy sofas.

When we met back up with the lads we realised that not going into the park was probably a sensible move on our part: for one, you had to pay, and for two, everyone else was skating along the paths on ice skates. Not my cup of tea.

We had arranged to meet the girls who had flown in from Kras earlier in the day (see, flights don’t get cancelled in Russia!) for dinner at last night’s venue. After having made our way up a pavement which was essentially sheet ice we arrived a few minutes late and ready for dinner. Despite the choice at this place being extremely wide I went for the same as last night with a glass of the cheapest beer going, followed by some kind of apple cake. Unlike most self-service venues, tonight there was live music which would have been pleasant had it not been so loud. Still, there was a guy playing the trumpet and keyboard at the same time- a definite redeeming feature.

A metro ride later we arrived back at the hostel for the evening which was not as relaxing as we had hoped given the confusion and worry about getting home tomorrow. If my flight were guaranteed I would be sad to leave Russia but as it is I just want to get home. Wish me luck!

After this we left and made for Red Square, where we took a few more photos whilst trying to dodge a workman’s vehicle which made repeated attempts to run us over. We then split into two groups, with the lads going to investigate Lenin’s mausoleum whilst Charlotte and I took a look round GUM, aka the State Department Store. This maze of shops (mostly far too high end for our budgets; Hermes anyone?) was decorated for the upcoming holiday in sumptuous style, making it more of a tourist destination than serious shopping venue.

Once the boys had gawped at Lenin it was time for us to swap, giving me and Charlotte the opportunity to stare at the rubbery face of the man himself. First we had to give up phones and cameras before going through airport-style scanners. We were then finally permitted to walk the route into the vast boxy marble mausoleum. Said route was policed by a selection of heavies giving us unnecessary directions (honestly, I had no idea why that barrier was there…) and urging us on when we slowed down. We were given just a minute or so to look at the body in the box, which would have annoyed me had I queued twenty minutes or so to get in. Thankfully we had walked pretty much straight in. Anyway, my perception of the experience was that it was nothing if not surreal: it was hard to think of him as a real person and not a waxwork copy. The nature of his tomb also gave the impression that perhaps it wasn’t a case of keeping riffraff out but rather a case of keeping Lenin in, as though he might open his eyes and make a bid for freedom at any moment.

Having made our escape from this temple of doom (see what I did there?) we went back to GUM to rendezvous with our chums. This supposedly simple task was harder than anticipated given that mobile phone contact could not be made, leaving me with the potentially difficult task of locating them in the maze of a shopping centre. In the end it took only about ten minutes, given that when left in such a place most males make for the nearest music and DVD store.

Next on our hit list was the Kremlin itself. We had been warned that if we wanted to avoid foreigner prices we should speak only in Russian, so we asked по русски for student tickets to the main buildings and the armoury. Upon producing our SFu cards we were asked to show the English version, which was then queried for not including the word ‘student’. However, we managed to get our tickets at student rate which we considered quite an achievement.

Once the lads had left their rucksacks with the baggage office (for some reason females were allowed to keep theirs) we marched quick time to the armoury, given that our entrance time was in precisely four minutes. Although we were late we were let in and picked up our audio guides before making our way to view the biggest collection of gold, Faberge eggs, thrones, crowns and the like I have ever seen. The exhibition was almost numbingly opulent, the audio guides (we opted for Russian) annoying in that they skipped over half the exhibits, and the rest unlabelled. Still, it was worth visiting despite the overwhelming presence of annoying guided tours.

By this point my feet, back and shoulders were not in tip top condition so trailing round the Kremlin’s other buildings- mostly former churches in various states of disrepair- was not the most fun experience of my life. However, it was very interesting and not at all how I had expected the political centre of Russia to look.

Once finished here we made our way through the heavy snow back towards the baggage office, from where once again we decided to pay a visit to McDonalds which seems to be our new favourite haunt. In our defence, it was by now around 3pm and we had eaten and drunk nothing since breakfast at around 8 this morning.

Our next port of call was Park Pobedi metro station, home of… Europe’s longest escalator! This bad boy took around three minutes to ascend and descend, making for a very exciting ride indeed. This is what our lives have come to.

After this we went back to the hostel to relax for a while and give the tootsies a rest before heading back out for a drink or two. The place we had originally opted for turned out to have changed hands so we went to a столовая instead, which in the event provided very tasty and suitably budget food and cocktails. After this I used my immense directional skills to locate a bar Matt wanted to visit, though we arrived to discover that there was a private party to which we were apparently not invited.

The metro journey home was once again quick and simple, and tomorrow marks our last full day in Russia… providing Heathrow is open on Monday.

What followed was a rather unpleasant journey on foot and by metro (traversing many steps, unfortunately) to the hostel. However, once we arrived it transpired that mine and Charlotte’s room was free, giving us somewhere to leave our bags and flop down on the bed to recover for a few minutes. Looking at my hands, I now have a few lovely blisters on their way.

I was so dehydrated by this point that I was eager to get out for breakfast, the venue for which was a cafe we had passed en route. I opted for kasha, apple juice and a coffee, though the waiter obviously realised how desperate for a drink I was and so deliberately left mine until last. Better late than never I guess.

After this it was time to begin our timetable for the next few days. This meant a journey on the metro past some stunning stations to Novodevichy Convent and the adjacent cemetery where such luminaries as Gogol and Chekov are buried. Russian graveyards are very bizarre, incorporating a range of large and ostentatious gravestones, the majority of which feature either an etching or a full-blown sculpture of the deceased. Many also included Soviet imagery, aeroplanes and the like.

Spending excess amounts of time in cold eerie graveyards isn’t my favourite pastime, so soon after we hopped back on the metro (10 tickets for R240) to the large and very beautiful Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. This afforded us our first view of the Kremlin, though the inside of the cathedral itself was equally impressive, full of beautiful icons and painting. A short walk over the nearby bridge for a better view of the river and Kremlin followed, before we decided it was time for a spot of lunch. The venue was none other than McDonald’s; somewhere I would never set foot inside in the UK but hey, we’re in Russia. Perhaps the only thing more at odds with the country’s Soviet past are the frequent Coca Cola Christmas adverts.

Having filled our bellies with greasy rubbish we took a stroll up one of the main streets before again hopping on the metro to Arbat Street; a legendary avenue now lined with tourist shops and pavement artists. There were no less than two Starbucks outlets: we really are in Europe again. We spent the time souvenir shopping before moving on to the Bolshoi to investigate the potential purchase of student tickets for the Nutcracker.

Unfortunately it transpired that these are not for sale this week (too close to New Year perhaps?) so instead we decided to dine at Yolki Palki, which thankfully- my feet were aching somewhat by this point- was not far away. I opted for a mushroom pirozhki followed by pelmeni with smetana in a chicken broth, both of which weren’t bad and more importantly weren’t badly priced for Moscow. 

Once finished we decided to have a stroll to Red Square to see it after dark, pulling in a souvenir market along the way. Standing in the square was a very surreal experience given that there is a building of note in every direction. GUM (the major department store) was lit up with a million tiny fairy lights, an ice rink stood in the centre and Lenin’s mausoleum provided a complete contrast with the bulbous onion domes of St Basil’s. We took the obligatory photos (to be followed up with a daylight version tomorrow) before taking a wander over the bridge over the frozen river.

By this time the temperature had cooled considerably so we entered the metro system at the next available opportunity and made for the hostel. After properly checking in and paying up we spent the evening relaxing and preparing ourselves for the next day’s excursions.

Having been on the train since Tuesday evening we were beginning to get decidedly stinky so Charlotte and I decided to check out the shower facilities a few carriages along. I’d forgotten that you have to pass basically through the open air between carriages so went in just a vest top and pyjama bottoms. Still, I survived and we located the shower for a bargain R50 each. Seeing as cleanliness is next to godliness I don’t really mind paying £1 for it. Having washed my hair I felt so much better and returned to the carriage ready to go for lunch in the dining car.

We were about the only ones in the food wagon, where we opted for the set menu lunch. This consisted of a ‘salad’ or tomato, cucumber, ham and mayonnaise followed by borscht and finally chicken with rice and more cucumber. For R200 it wasn’t bad and gave us the chance to spend some time out of our tiny compartment. We also had some lovely views through windows on both sides of the forests as we headed towards Kirov.

Having eaten (and paid R120 for an apple in Ashley’s case) we decided to take a wander to the end of the train. The provodnitsas all found this very strange and asked if we had gone in the wrong direction. It wasn’t really worth it as we couldn’t see much out of the back window but it killed a bit of time.

Back in the compartment we occupied ourselves reading and listening to music until it was time for our Moscow meeting, scheduled for 5pm Perm time, aka +2 on Moscow. Said meeting, once convened, ran very smoothly and a rough itinerary was arranged for Moscow in less than an hour- incredibly efficient I’d say.

Following this we received a visit from a Russian a few cabins down who told us that there was an Englishman to be found in his compartment! We dillydallied for a while before deciding to meet him just before arrived at the next stop to give us a get out clause in case he happened to be weird. In the event he was a man of over 60 sharing space with half a dozen Russians. It transpired he didn’t speak Russian but they all spoke English, though after telling him what we were doing here he seemed reluctant to return the favour and we left to get food.

For a while afterwards we listened to music and chatted before he wandered down the corridor to the samovar and noticed us. He stood chatting and told us he was on his way to Nizhny Novgorod in his role as a broker between Caterpillar and a small Germany company before returning to Blighty in a few days.

Little more was accomplished in the evening before it was time to consider packing up our things ready for our imminent arrival in Moscow in the morning.

Back on the train and Matt was already asleep again; a state in which he remained for the next few hours. The morning was spent eating, reading and talking, before we settled down with a beverage or two to watch Inception in Russian. Now, this is a film I’d not seen in English though I had intended to, and it turns out that whilst it is very good it is also extremely confusing, particularly in a foreign language. So this was swiftly followed up with a bit of light relief in the form of Russell Brand before we decided it was probably about time to sleep. It’s very difficult to decide when sleeping and eating is appropriate given that you’re never entirely sure which time zone you’re in. I think we’re currently either +2 or +3 on Moscow, which is then +3 on the UK.

When I was satisfied that a reasonable amount had been done I caught the bus into town for my last rendezvous with Leo, Seph and Jo in Cinnabon. Seeing as it was lunchtime I decided to go for a regular (massive) pekanbon instead of small, though by the time I was about two thirds of the way through I was beginning to regret my decision. Still, I ploughed on to the end whilst reminiscing about our time here and planning our takeover of the rah-filled wine soc in fourth year.

The temperature today was a very mild -16C so I didn’t mind having to leave the warmth and bright lights of the cafe to go back outside. Only in Siberia can the temperature fluctuate by 24C between one day and the next.

After wandering round a few shops I hopped on the 12 for the last time (are you sensing a theme here?) and made my way back home.

There was time for a spot more packing before the dinner gong was sounded (aka Dennis came up to tell me) at 6pm. My last supper was some kind of red fish with vegetables in a creamy sauce and rice, along with pink champagne (note not shampanskoye), port and a liqueur similar to Southern Comfort called Vana Tallinn. By this time I had figured that I would be being picked up by the bus organised by Valentina as opposed to being dropped off by my host: pick up time was to be about 8.15pm; two hours before we were due to depart.

A family friend I hadn’t met before was there and many toasts were made, including EV giving a speech assessing me and my character (and Dennis telling me I look just like Uma Thurman), which was followed by a request for me to make a speech about my time here. I decided to do it in Russian though the friend spoke some English and I think managed to convey just how much I have enjoyed this experience.

When the time came to depart and all my bags were lugged downstairs I said my goodbyes to the family (HG and EV both quite fancied coming along for the trip) and loaded all my luggage into the minivan. I was the first to be picked up so had a nice chat with Valentina (turns out she doesn’t know my host so I don’t know how EV knows everything) before we eventually found our way to Charlotte’s flat.

Once everyone had finally been collected and the vehicle was jam packed we made the short hop to the station. Valentina helped us up (and down) the several flights of stairs to the platform and onto the train itself, which otherwise would have been something of a struggle seeing as I am only in possession of two arms.

Somehow we managed to find space for all our goods and settled down just in time to watch Krasnoyarsk slowly disappearing out of view. It was a very bittersweet feeling but my hosts have already invited me back and I fully intend to take them up on their offer. Anna asked if I had Facebook and when I told her that I have vkontakte too she immediately went up to the computer to find me which was very sweet.

Anyway, back on the train we acquired a selection of mugs and I cracked open the bottle of champagne my hosts had given me for the journey. The first toast was naturally to Krasnoyarsk- we’re Russian now. We talked late into the evening, feasting on draniki and smetana and cheese crisps before settling down to bed in our shiny new cabin. The train is very well equipped and our beds were already made up for us which was a nice touch.

But anyway, eventually we got on our way and I made it into town in time to wander to the market and back via a supermarket for train supplies and Kodak for a disposable camera seeing as mine doesn’t seem to be reacting very well to the weather. A trip to John Lewis with the warranty may be in order when I get home.

Once we were too cold to contemplate any more shopping I headed to Kofein in an attempt to use the internet. When that didn’t work I tried Travellers’ Coffee. When that also didn’t work I opted for Matt’s host’s cafe, where I finally managed to get online and have a spot of lunch, if you can call the tiny blini which were served up a meal.

Following this I went to meet my Russian friend Симён for tea at the cafe in the cinema complex. He had very kindly agreed to look over my essay (or what I’ve written of it so far) and correct the multitude of errors. Thankfully there weren’t as many as I was expecting, so I now have around 750 words of pretty accurate Russian.

I skipped the afternoon’s ‘classes’ (they turned out to be simply informal discussions) and instead met the others at Dublin Irish Bar for a drink and game of pool before going for dinner. This meant walking for about 15-20 minutes from the cinema, which in -34C is quite a big achievement. I made it there without frostbite, though grabbing the iron door handle to get into the place was not my best move ever. Still, it was nothing a glass of wine couldn’t cure.

Once we had drunk up we made our way to Mama Roma; probably the best Italian restaurant we have been to here. As per usual all was great apart from the sour faced waitress who decided that we all wanted the largest glasses of Coca Cola I have ever seen simply because we were foreign. I ordered risotto with asparagus and prawn and was then press ganged into opting for dessert too; panna cotta which luckily wasn’t as huge as the tiramisu and chocolate cake ordered by many of the others.

The final stop of the night was a Croatian restaurant/ bar to meet Stas and Olya for drinks. As per usual Stas arrived late, meaning that I would only be able to stay for around half an hour before the last bus. Of course, when the waitress brought us all large beers that went out the window and Charlotte and I decided to share a taxi. Stas and Olya presented us each with a pair of knitted socks before deciding they would like to wave us off at the station tomorrow. We ordered a taxi which arrived at around 1am and headed home. The driver turned out to be from Tajikistan and insisted before dropping me off that I take his phone number for next time I’m in Kras so that we can ‘socialise’. What a catch.

The morning- or what was left of it- was dedicated to essay evasion. My main tactic involved sorting carefully through all my papers to get rid of the vast majority (weight saving, don’t you know) before beginning the task of packing. I think I may have found a means of transporting some of the more fragile goods through means of a shoes box, though whether this will work or not only time and a plane journey will tell. I’d forgotten quite how much stuff I have accumulated; a matter which will not be helped by the fact I still need to buy all my food for the train journey.

A little packing done (much still left to do), I finally knuckled down to my essay, which by the time I had to leave to go into town stood at a not unimpressive 600 words. So only 400 left then.

On the way to the bus stop I made a detour to the nearest bin to deposit a selection of my discarded possessions, my beloved black Diesel jeans amongst them. Though I wasn’t happy about this, logic told me that they were now more hole than jean so it was probably for the best. I made it into town in good time to meet Charlotte, Jo and Seph at the Opera and Ballet Theatre for our bargaineous Nutcracker viewing.

Charlotte and I settled for the pair of seats located right at the top and to the left of the stage. The view was fine, though it’s a good job neither of us suffer from vertigo as it was bloomin’ high and the steps up to our seats followed the Old Russian Tradition of not being of even height. Still, for £1.50 I was pleased even to have a seat. The production itself was very pleasant to watch, though we found it highly amusing that when the soldier changed to a prince we were able to see the guy creeping along behind another dancer’s cape due to our elevated position. I don’t think it was as good as Swan Lake (though I do love the music) but it put us in a suitably Christmassy mood.

After this we made a very quick detour to a bar for a pot of tea- yes, I know we’re cool- before going our separate ways. I headed to the bus stop via a produkti store to begin purchasing goods for the train journey (cheese, instant noodles, plastic cutlery with which to eat said noodles, chocolate, a box of wine and all those other essentials).

When I arrived at said bus stop I was gratified to see that the sign said the 12 would arrive in four minutes. It also said the temperature was now -35C, meaning that these were going to be a long four minutes. As I waited, these four minutes became longer and longer and I became progressively colder and colder, until eventually 20 minutes had passed and the bus arrived. Any longer and I think I would have been in trouble- tomorrow I shall wear two pairs of tights.

Once inside the bus I realised the next forty minutes would be interesting, bearing in mind that I was still able to see my breath. As the journey progressed I began to get slightly worried about the lack of feeling in a couple of my toes: at these temperatures frostbite is a real possibility. I spent most of the journey shivering despite being very wrapped up, and as a slight feeling of sickness washed over me I wondered whether I wasn’t suffering the onset of hypothermia.

When we arrived at the end of the line I disembarked, every muscle in my body feeling like it weighed half a ton. I marched home as fast as the ice would allow and was greeted by EV asking if I wasn’t cold. Ha-de-ha-ha. Back in my room I made for the radiator before deciding the heated floor in the bathroom was a better option. Gradually the numbness began to recede, though I still felt decidedly unpleasant and upon closer inspection my legs were bright red and some of my toes a conspicuous white.

Dinner of cabbage and a large meatball along with a mug of tea began to improve how I felt, and now about two hours after getting on the bus my toes are beginning to feel almost normal albeit a little sore. I think I will begin to dress more appropriately now given the images of me minus a couple of toes which were floating round my head on the bus. The one consolation was my first lucky bus ticket in a while (194941), not that I felt so lucky at the time!

Today was even colder than yesterday, with the temperature monitor on my bus route giving a bone chilling (literally) reading of -36C. Impressive. By the time I met Leo at the bus stop outside the cinema I was already feeling quite numb; a feeling which was hardly improved once we were on a bus to the Автовокзал inside which I could still see my breath.

Gary the Australian who teaches at the language school had arranged to pick us up from the bus station to take us for lunch in his flat. We were both incredibly grateful to see his Jeep (fuelled by Arctic diesel) roll into sight to whisk us to somewhere warmer. As I said to Leo, I think the cold is doing something to my brain and sending me marginally crazy- don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Once inside the flat we made the acquaintance of the family: Gary’s wife, three young children and their new kitten. They were very accommodating and quickly made us feel at home, offering us a wide selection of teas(!!) and calling us poms in as affectionate a way as is possible(!!). Whilst we waited for the pizza to cook we discussed our experiences of Russia (they have lived in the country for four years) and the prospect of our imminent return to Blighty (apparently reverse culture shock may be a problem). It transpires that Aussies are not familiar with the word ‘aubergine’ and a variety of other terms which I am simply too lazy (or too frozen of brain) to recall right now. Unfortunately we had to leave all too soon, but it was great to have had the opportunity to spend time with such a pleasant (and English-speaking!) family.

Back on the bus I decided to get off as close to the internet cafe as possible to minimise walking time. The sacrifice I made for opting to get off when I did involved almost getting cut in half by the sliding door as the driver decided to close it and begin pulling out whilst I was in the process of disembarking. I managed to squeeze out and jump off the moving bus, almost falling on the ice in the process but hey, I’m still here.

I killed a little time before once again the cold got the better of me and I had no choice but to make for the cafe. There I ran into Seph, who provided me with ample essay distraction (much appreciated!) until it was time for the final instalment of my weekly parental Skype session. This mainly involved discussing the logistics of my return and shocking them when I revealed the temperature- I’m a sucker for a bit of novelty value.

I now had time on my hands before meeting some of the others and Stas at 7pm, so I opted to stay in the cafe once Patrick arrived and simply order more food (blini with smetana). For some reason I developed a bad stomach ache shortly after (can blini give you food poisoning?) but managed to kill it with a couple of painkillers so as not to be distracted from reading about the tuition fees scandal unfolding back home. This in itself was a distraction from my essay but hey, it’s important to be well informed about these things.

Once Charlotte arrived we left to meet Stas at the Dom Kino cinema which specialises in foreign films. At his suggestion we went to see the 80s film Permanent Vacation, an art house independent piece with a suitably high walkout rate and smug introduction by some Moscow critic or other. The film was short enough to avoid being dull despite the numerous scenes of the main character simply walking along. Some bits I would go so far as to say I quite liked. Either way it was better than Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, though that’s not really saying much.

After the film we went our separate ways and luckily I was waiting just a few minutes for the bus. I’d guess the temperature in Udachni was even lower than the -36C readout in town, as within about a minute of disembarking from the bus my nose was entirely without feeling. I got back home and proceeded to warm myself up as quickly as possible: I’m glad the temperature has dropped so much (some readouts were claiming -40C) but at the same time I’m equally glad that it’s only for a few days.