Christmas Special!

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Coming to you live from the midst of Russian snowy Christmas (real Christmas - the 25th December, not the 7th January like Russia believes) and the roads are white chaos!

In a stroke of super-duper Christmas irony I have just witnessed a big red coca cola truck being stuck in the snow... A little truck attempting to drag it out (it's always the real thing! --- sorry couldn't resist).

And then came the realization- British and American Christmas is the sham. The real Christmas day is the 7th of January, but it was changed by the-powers-that-be roughly two hundred years ago.

So British Christmas is not the real Christmas, but here is what I can say; no one does it better than Europe! The marketing, the traditions, the stories, Dickens, goose, turkey, presents. We do it properly. It's more than a religious holiday. It's family. It's a memory maker. It's a patience teacher (waiting to open that gift, waiting to receive, or even waiting to give a gift and see that reaction.)

Christmas isn't "here's a pressie, where's mine? Happy birthday, Jesus."
It's an indescribable emotion, something that says "let's stop all the BS. Let's have an excuse to stop and breath."


For Russians- New Years Eve is their real Christmas. This is their time to stop and breath. And they do it in style- for a whole week (that suicidal first week of Jan... Probably explains why Russians aren't big on the suicide statistics.)

In the words of tiny Tim; God bless us, everyone!

Check out my books here: www.jamesbrough.com

Part 8: Russian Taxis

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Russia has an amazing taxi system; stand on the side of the road and stick your arm out, and someone will pick you up.
I kid you not.
The car will be a square item from another time, but the fair will be cheap. What's scary is I've seen young girls doing this. Maybe I've watched too many horror films, but if a beautiful person climbs in a vehicle with an odd-faced character wearing driving gloves (be prepared for that) their odds of showing up on the back of a milk carton are fairly high.

If gambling isn't your thing, there's a taxi service called City Mobile. The App can be downloaded to your phone and you can order a taxi to your door. You can even track the progress of your taxi on his way to you.
While this sounds too good to be true it's because it is; I've ordered one or two taxis where I can see the person accepting to drive me is far away, he clearly accepted the order to be a greedy little cabby. This means, if I've been monitoring his progress, that I have to order another, wasting my time.
Next problem; for some reason you're car driver likes to call you. Why? You have the pickup destination with an alert sent to your phone that says he's arrived. Why would I want to talk to you? What do we have to discuss? You know where to find me and you know where I'm going.
Especially if you don't speak Russian, it can get tiresome to say the least when these characters call you to tell you they're 2 minutes away. Yes, I can see your car on the app, dumbass. It gets frustrating to a degree that you would rather walk 500 miles (queue the Proclaimers) in the snow then put up with this unnecessarily lost in translation mess.
Next is the cab fare. The app calculates an amount for you, so you'll know if you're getting ripped off.

The main bonus is cabs are still a damn sight cheaper than most major cities.

Check out my books here: www.jamesbrough.com

Part 7: The Metro

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Where to begin... Let's see. First is the journey down to the famous metro. The escalator seems like an endless tunnel to hell for most commuters, and I've often fantasised about them installing a slide for those of us that grind our teeth at waiting on an escalator.
Try walking up or down them. I dare you. In Russia to do this every day would be enough for a short gym session (could explain the lack of joggers.)

The metro themselves are marble wonders. Impressive but on first try are perhaps too complex. A pleasure for first time tourist gawkers but a pain in the ass for regular commuters. The crisscross of walkways and lack of English signage make for a frustrating campaign for tourists. How are we to know that on the metro map, where it shows circles over stations, that it means they are linked and can be walked to. And not a quick walk I might add. Everything in Moscow is a journey (or trek for the South Africans reading this.)

Rush hour is insane. I've been in the March of the Penguins at Waterloo station. I was one of those sad penguins. This is some other kind of monster; a Russian wave of pushing and squeezing (let's just say Russians aren't afraid to get up close and personal when it comes to our personal space) that makes you yell in your head "how can there be this many people in the world?"
It's chaos. It's rude for lack of a better word.

Some trains are brand new with (thank the Lord) English beneath the Russian words. The older trains are some death machine from the 70s. Listening carefully for the name of your station otherwise you won’t know where you are. The trains are very Loud. Very very very loud. Squeaky. Swaying like a ship in a storm.
I've climbed on and off the wrong train so many times in the beginning it became not funny very quickly.

The good news is that the trains are fairly consistent; one every two minutes give or take.

Lastly the consumers; there will be the usual suspects; beggars, old ladies, people carrying bags way too big, little kids, people selling stuff, stinky people, bearded people, but the amount of black people in Russia that I see; if I count more than two for a whole month, this is standard. For a kid growing up in Africa, seeing this many white people is just down right odd. The naughty raisins are missing from the pudding, so to speak. Here, they call Islamic or Armenian "black." That's Middle-Eastern. Or Indian, etc. Black is African. Black is black. White is white. You get the idea.


Check out my books at www.jamesbrough.com

Part 6: Gorky Park

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Yes, yes, just like the Scorpions song (who make a living out of visiting Moscow often to sing that one track that I never heard of until I moved here.)  - - - Listen to it here

The thing is Gorky Park is something to write home about; in the summer it's the epicentre of all that's fun and happening in Moscow; over-priced drinks (in Russian terms anyway), lots of little eateries... But that's not the main pull.

Volleyball, ping pong, skating ramps, biking ramps, dancing, cycling, outdoor cinema in English (gasp), paddle boats, roller blading (all of which can be rented if you bring your Passport along?).
If you want to chill and relax there's beanbags and sun loungers. Benches overlooking a dancing fountain. Interesting displays and statues. Some of the Russian girls will simply sunbathe in their Victoria’s secret if the day is hot enough (yes, boys, this does happen on occasion.) On the other side of the bridge paintings and decor are for sale. It has to be seen and experienced to be enjoyed.

Winter time it becomes a wonderland that I dare say Hyde Park pales in comparison. Gorky is converted into a giant ice rink with wooden platforms crisscrossing above. You can skate your way to an Italian restaurant and have some glue wine, then somehow skate your way back out.

It's so well done you can't fault it. It is the Russians ace up the sleeve. To visit Moscow and not go here is to go to London and not see Buckingham Palace.
Yes, it's that important.

Check out my books at www.jamesbrough.com

Part 5: Russian People

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I know a lot of good Russians. This chapter is about the cliche; what you will, without doubt, encounter. This is not to say all Russians are like this. Let's get to it.
From my observations the average man in Russia is 6 foot tall. He owns a pair of blue denim jeans and a black leather jacket. Though majority of them are shipped off to compulsory military training they do not appear to be overly muscular, broad shouldered or dangerous. He doesn't wear gel or wax in his hair. When you see them you will feel like you are in the set of Party of Five. That's right, a 90s theme television show. You will feel like you are from the future. I was wandering around like Marty McFly with my mouth open.

Next, the girls.
Russian women are, sorry to disappoint women of the world, naturally beautiful. Most have slim figures, chisel like features and good nails. Wearing big fur coats is a sign of wealth in Russia.
Most people tell me it's in their genes that they all look slim and healthy. I say it's this:
A: Russia doesn't have a massive junk food regime as Europe or the States. Most people have cold soup for starters. This is super healthy. Most of their produce is natural and organic.
B: they aren't a huge drinking culture. You don't have pubs on every corner, which means you don't have pint after pint. Thick cut chips aren't a regular in restaurants. The alcohol they do have is either neat spirits (very few use mixers) and/or a glass of wine, and most people don’t drink as they have to drive.

That being said, I believe it's their diet that keeps them slim, as I don't see many of the locals running about the car-fume infested streets. There are a modest amount of gyms, but strange that they are top Contenders for gold medals at the Olympics. Jogging and cycling isn't huge on their to-do list either. In Gorky Park you mainly see skaters and roller bladers (again a 90s reference.)
The work force is fairly straightforward. Not many people run around in suits as you see in cities like New York or London.
In winter Russians wear the famous Russian hats (shapka)- capable of folding over your ears, back of your neck and your face (why?).

For the older generation, wearing a big fur coat was a sign of wealth. Some of this ideology has rubbed off on the younger generation that isn't against slaughtering mink.

Part 4: Moscow Traffic and the Mashrootki

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Traffic is a way of life in Moscow. It seems to me that people in Russia wake up and decide “I think I’ll climb in my car and drive on the freeway just so I can be a part of the traffic,” even if they have no reason to be there.
I’ve been stuck in traffic jams at 2am, Moscow time. It is insane. For someone like me who believes every second of my life is a god/universe given gift, this is a waste of a life.
The reason the traffic is so bad;

A: If there is a fender bender (sometimes even a scratch), the cars have to stop dead where they are and wait for the police to arrive on the scene, assess what happened, and then things can proceed. Ridiculous, right? In a world of smartphones and modern technology, no one is capable of exchanging their insurance details, taking photos (possibly uploading them to a traffic police website), or even able to pull away to the side? Really?

and B: most of the cars are not road worthy. Russia is pretty lawless when it comes to vehicles. Cars drive without plates or have their plates covered in enough dirt and soot that you can’t recognise the numbers. I’ve seen vehicles chugging along that wouldn’t even make it down the road in London. One such death design is a monster I’ve used on numerous occasions. It’s called the avtobus (or Mashrootki). Not the big bus, that looks clean and slow, I’m talking the little mini-bus that you stick your hand out and he near rolls his vehicle to pick you up.
In British terms, it’s dodgy.
The automatic doors have sharp pointy bits that could cost you some digits. There are no seat belts. Hell, some of the chairs are barely secure. The first one I ever travelled in had a broken sunroof, and it was raining.

Then there’s the driver. While travel is relatively cheap in Moscow, it appears he (because it’s always a HE) would do anything for this 35 Roubles (less than 50p with the current exchange rate) fare.  The problem is he takes your money and gives you change. And his phone is in the other hand… while he is driving!  I kid you not.
The next part to mention is that you have to yell to the bus driver to stop.
“Stop” isn’t used in Russian, you would have to say “ostanovit pozhaluysta” which is a mouthful for any Brit, I guarantee. Russian is rated as the third most difficult language to learn in the world (behind Polish of course), and majority of bus drivers are not native Russian themselves (I’m talking Kazakhstan, Armenia, Mongolia) and English isn’t in their repertoire. My wife often laughs at some of the things I used to say to the driver, thinking I was saying the correct Russian phrase. One time I asked him “can I drive?” instead of “can I stop here?”
I’ve had moments where I’m watching an interaction between a driver and a potential costumer, where it looks as though they are yelling at each other. This is normal apparently. They are just “discussing things.”

Let’s back track to the 35 Roubles. Russians enjoy the old school handover process. Pass this along. While that works with your classmates, a bus full of strangers coughing and touching each other’s dirty pennies leaves you feeling in need of a shower just from passing along some coins. Hygiene takes a back seat to laziness. Check out my books at www.jamesbrough.com

Part 3: The Supermarket

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First, let’s talk about currency used in the market. Roobal, rubble, potayto, potarto, makes no difference. All shops take Rubles. The coin system is too much extra effort. There are five different types of notes and six different coins. It’s worth noting that most businesses in Russia pay in Rubles or Euros.
Theres’ the 10 and 50 kopek coins (which you can’t buy anything with.) Then there’s the 1, 2 and 5 Ruble coins (which you can’t buy anything with.) From 10 Rubles onwards it becomes interesting. There’s a 10 Ruble coin and note.
Russians love their loose change. They LOVE it. So much so that you are often asked by the person at the checkout counter for their loose change.
 “Do you have 99 roubles?”
 “No… why would I if I gave you a 100 Ruble note?”
Bizarre.

I’m rubbing my hands together as I type (if that’s physically possible) with gems to share with you from Russia’s depths.
Bizarre items... Fish being clubbed to death… ah, it’s a writer’s dream in there!
A live fish tank... Isles and isles of frozen food that isn't covered up... Birds in the isles ... Tellers who ask you for more loose change...The list goes on.


While it's great that majority of  shops are 24 hrs, Alcohol is only available until 10pm. I'm told it's to stop the alcoholics. Surely, if you're an alcoholic, wouldn't you also be drinking during the day?
There are some exceptions that sell alcohol until 11pm on certain days (eg; Azbooka Vekoosa – kind of the M&S/Morrisons of Russia as at this store you find most foreign produce, but it is a tad pricier.)
The service can't really be discussed as there isn't any. Asking for help or paying with a large note can get you shouted at, or dirty looks, depends on what the person had for breakfast that morning.

The bakery isn't much to write home about; while they do have some tasty jam-tart like cookies, the baking seems more conservative and not as fat-filled as the European standard. That's to say if you want a good Victoria sponge or a scone you have a snowball's chance in hell.

Milk is called Moloko. For the life of me I can't figure out which one is full cream (as they have 0,1% up to 5%. Where's 100%?)
Dangerous to the sweet-toothed; condensed milk comes in a sealable sachet. Yum yum!
The salmon comes in cheap and plentiful. Caviar comes standard. It's decently priced and often served with pancakes or sushi.
Russians are consider the largest tea drinkers in the world (google it).
Coffee is expensive. Apparently it doesn't grow too amazingly in all these Russian forests. That's right, lads, beer is cheaper than coffee.
Book tickets now...

Check out my books at www.jamesbrough.com