Today is making me believe that it might really be spring. The sun is out and it’s warm. The sky is a bit cloudy, but that’s a small complaint. I have to go out and about to do a couple of errands then I might just sit on the deck for a while and do nothing but watch the birds and grab a bit of sunlight.

Our last travelog had me arriving in Moscow, a city filled with smoke which our guide couldn’t see. Our bus wasn’t there. None of us were surprised. Since the evil guide had joined us, the tour had taken a turn for the worst. We waited over an hour before the bus arrived to take us to the hotel which was a bit out from the center of Moscow. The next morning the guide and a bus met us for our first day of touring. We went to a museum about the revolution. My favorite exhibit of all time was in that museum. In a small class case were two chunks of break: one tiny and one very much larger. The tiny bread was a portion from the time of the Tsar and the large chunk was from the time of Lenin. Oh the plenty the revolution brought! That day we also went to Lenin’s tomb on Red Square. No hand-holding the guide told the Italian married couple. The tomb was the coolest place in all of Moscow which was so hot that the Italians keep fanning themselves and saying caldo, caldo. We had found out the smoke came from the peat fields which had begun to smolder spontaneously from the heat. It was the hottest summer in a 100 years. I would have stayed in that tomb longer if I could have. Lenin looked waxed to me, a product of Madame Tussaud. One of our group started to whisper and was shushed immediately. Lenin’s tomb was a holy place. The next stop was the wonderful State Historical Museum facing Red Square. We got booties to put over our shoes. I figured it was a cheap way to keep the floors shiny. The museum housed many artifacts from the days of the Tsar including Fabergé eggs. There was a carriage that had belonged to Catherine the Great which was pulled by a large stuffed horse. The Frenchman wanted to know if that was the fateful horse (I’ll let you do the searching for this one). The guide ignored him, good move on her part. We also went to the church of the Assumption, a beautiful golden onion domed church. That’s where I scared the crowd of Muscovites. All over the city were Вода́ machines, pronounce vah-DAH, and meaning water. A small glass sat on one side, and you pushed down to wash it then inserted a couple of coins, köpeks, then moved the glass under the spout. You paid one for plain or two for colored water. I didn’t get either. The American in my tour who was standing next to me said to tap the glass front of the machine, like pounding a coffee machine that didn’t work. I did that. Nothing. I did it again. Nothing. The third time I did it I broke the glass with my hand. The crowd made such a sound of horror you’d think I kicked a grandmother a few times when she was down. The side of my hand was bleeding and had shards of glass stuck in the cut. The Argentina offered to help. He said he did cleaning of cuts and other wounds for himself when he was on the pampas. His arms were filled with scars. I politely declined. The American said he was a medical student and he’d do it. That man patiently took every piece of glass out of my hand using tweezers then took a band-aid and covered the wound. We did that a distance away from the broken machine. I kept looking for police. Later I thought about that machine and realized that the glass, a nice glass, just sat there not at all connected and was never stolen. By the reaction of the crowd to my mishap, I guessed why.

The tour continued. We visited St. Basil’s Cathedral and GUM Department Store, the largest in the world according to nasty guide. I bought a few scarves as souvenirs for people. We were done for the day and dropped off at our hotel. Dinner there was the worst so we took a streetcar into the city. The streetcars were on the honor system: put money in the slot and take a ticket. We put in dimes or quarters and I threw in some Finnish money and took my ticket. We took that streetcar often and never failed to put in money. Good thing too as a couple of times the streetcar was stopped, police got on and checked to see that everyone had a ticket.

One night we went into the city and had dinner in the Hotel Metropol, the grand dame of hotels. It was beautiful, majestic, ornate and one of my favorite stops in all of Moscow. We finished that evening by stopping at one of the foreign currency bars and having a nightcap before the trip back to our dismal hotel. At least the bed was comfortable and the bread with breakfast was fresh.

The last of my trip will be tomorrow, and I guarantee some excitement. That next day after dinner in the Metropol, we started, as did many of my travel mates, taking the tour bus into the city then ditching the tour and taking off on our own. That was the best part.

Today is making me believe that it might really be spring. The sun is out and it’s warm. The sky is a bit cloudy, but that’s a small complaint. I have to go out and about to do a couple of errands then I might just sit on the deck for a while and do nothing but watch the birds and grab a bit of sunlight.

Our last travelog had me arriving in Moscow, a city filled with smoke which our guide couldn’t see. Our bus wasn’t there. None of us were surprised. Since the evil guide had joined us, the tour had taken a turn for the worst. We waited over an hour before the bus arrived to take us to the hotel which was a bit out from the center of Moscow. The next morning the guide and a bus met us for our first day of touring. We went to a museum about the revolution. My favorite exhibit of all time was in that museum. In a small class case were two chunks of break: one tiny and one very much larger. The tiny bread was a portion from the time of the Tsar and the large chunk was from the time of Lenin. Oh the plenty the revolution brought! That day we also went to Lenin’s tomb on Red Square. No hand-holding the guide told the Italian married couple. The tomb was the coolest place in all of Moscow which was so hot that the Italians keep fanning themselves and saying caldo, caldo. We had found out the smoke came from the peat fields which had begun to smolder spontaneously from the heat. It was the hottest summer in a 100 years. I would have stayed in that tomb longer if I could have. Lenin looked waxed to me, a product of Madame Tussaud. One of our group started to whisper and was shushed immediately. Lenin’s tomb was a holy place. The next stop was the wonderful State Historical Museum facing Red Square. We got booties to put over our shoes. I figured it was a cheap way to keep the floors shiny. The museum housed many artifacts from the days of the Tsar including Fabergé eggs. There was a carriage that had belonged to Catherine the Great which was pulled by a large stuffed horse. The Frenchman wanted to know if that was the fateful horse (I’ll let you do the searching for this one). The guide ignored him, good move on her part. We also went to the church of the Assumption, a beautiful golden onion domed church. That’s where I scared the crowd of Muscovites. All over the city were Вода́ machines, pronounce vah-DAH, and meaning water. A small glass sat on one side, and you pushed down to wash it then inserted a couple of coins, köpeks, then moved the glass under the spout. You paid one for plain or two for colored water. I didn’t get either. The American in my tour who was standing next to me said to tap the glass front of the machine, like pounding a coffee machine that didn’t work. I did that. Nothing. I did it again. Nothing. The third time I did it I broke the glass with my hand. The crowd made such a sound of horror you’d think I kicked a grandmother a few times when she was down. The side of my hand was bleeding and had shards of glass stuck in the cut. The Argentina offered to help. He said he did cleaning of cuts and other wounds for himself when he was on the pampas. His arms were filled with scars. I politely declined. The American said he was a medical student and he’d do it. That man patiently took every piece of glass out of my hand using tweezers then took a band-aid and covered the wound. We did that a distance away from the broken machine. I kept looking for police. Later I thought about that machine and realized that the glass, a nice glass, just sat there not at all connected and was never stolen. By the reaction of the crowd to my mishap, I guessed why.

The tour continued. We visited St. Basil’s Cathedral and GUM Department Store, the largest in the world according to nasty guide. I bought a few scarves as souvenirs for people. We were done for the day and dropped off at our hotel. Dinner there was the worst so we took a streetcar into the city. The streetcars were on the honor system: put money in the slot and take a ticket. We put in dimes or quarters and I threw in some Finnish money and took my ticket. We took that streetcar often and never failed to put in money. Good thing too as a couple of times the streetcar was stopped, police got on and checked to see that everyone had a ticket.

One night we went into the city and had dinner in the Hotel Metropol, the grand dame of hotels. It was beautiful, majestic, ornate and one of my favorite stops in all of Moscow. We finished that evening by stopping at one of the foreign currency bars and having a nightcap before the trip back to our dismal hotel. At least the bed was comfortable and the bread with breakfast was fresh.

The last of my trip will be tomorrow, and I guarantee some excitement. That next day after dinner in the Metropol, we started, as did many of my travel mates, taking the tour bus into the city then ditching the tour and taking off on our own. That was the best part.