Researching Russia before we arrived I read plenty to warn me about drivers and their lack of etiquette. Stalin was rather keen on wide streets as it meant that it was easier for tanks to get around. This means that there are lots of roads where there are eight lanes of traffic going in one direction. Yes, that’s sixteen lanes of traffic in the middle of the city. Pretty bloody scary. Russian drivers are quite mad and impatient. They don’t really care if the light is red or green. Crossing the road was done with great nervousness. Apparently, pedestrians are quite frequently hit and mangled.
Travelling can really wear you down and make you experience emotions that you wouldn’t normally feel. Friday September 19 was angry day. The morning started badly with a huge leery man grabbing my arm in the hotel and grunting as drool dripped from the side of his mouth. I yanked my arm away, strode off, turned around and gave him the finger and I think I told him to ‘fuck off’. I was shocked and then furious. Glen, Matthew and Tracey had to hold me back from searching him out and kicking him in the goolies. They calmed me down a little and off we set for the Kremlin.
They charge for everything in Russia. “Want to get in here: 250 roubles please, but you have to leave your bag in the coat check, 60 roubles please, and yes the bathroom is over there, 5 roubles please. And if you want to take photos that will be an extra 50 roubles”. Actually I lie. They don’t say please.
We arrived at the Kremlin and immediately had a guide slither up to us asking if we would like to avail of his services. We entertained him and asked how much? 200 roubles. Each. “Thanks, but no thanks”, we politely replied. He kept on. We won’t understand. There’s very little explanation inside. We’d be much better off with him blah blah blah. “That may be true we replied, but we are poor travellers and we can’t afford such a service, we aren’t even happy that we have to pay so much to get in, in the first place”.
“You’d pay this much in Paris or London”, he replied with arrogance in his voice.
“Yeah, but I can drink the water there”, Tracey quipped.
It’s so aggravating. You wouldn’t mind paying first world prices if you didn’t get treated like dirt all the time. Fair enough, people from Eastern Europe had a pretty crappy time for quite a long time, and they have good reason to be suspicious of Westerners. But surely it wouldn’t be too much to ask for just a tincy wincy amount of respect as a human being?
The babushka at the coat check frowned at us as we approached. We saw that it cost 60 roubles per bag, so economising, we stuffed Tracey’s bag into mine. I took it up and she said 120 roubles. But it’s only one bag. She sneered back with what could only be pure hatred. I wasn’t going to put up with this shit, so I argued with her. There’s only one bag. Then from who knows where she said that there was a one-kilogram limit on the weight of bags. What?! Where does it say that? Where’s that rule written down. I was livid. I was seeing red and I’m not talking good-old-blood-of-the-workers commie red. I stormed off and told Tracey to deal with it before I hit something or someone.
After all the fuss about getting into the place, the Kremlin was quite disappointing. The churches were all very impressive but there comes a point where a gloriously beautiful church isn’t so amazing anymore. There was the bloody big bell that was never rung because it fell and a piece broke off — that was pretty impressive.
And there was the thrill of being blasted by a whistle from a Kremlin guard. They don’t let anyone walk around much. You’re not allowed to stray from the painted walkway and the guards blow their whistle and point their truncheon at you if you do! I guess it is their national parliament – security and all that gaff.
Later we watched the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. There were a couple of American girls in their early teens standing next to me — bad move. At first they were just being a bit silly and saying things like, “don’t they look like ballerinas”. But as the new guards marched forward, one of the girls said quite loudly, “Come on guys; smile. You know you can”. I snapped. I hissed at them, “Be quiet. This is a solemn occasion, commemorating people who died in wars. Be respectful”. They shut up and slinked away as soon as it was over. An angry day all round.
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