It's what I came for ...

Finally the day dawns when I fulfil the obligation that brought me to Moscow. I'm speaking at a GreenIT Forum sponsored by Kyocera Document Solutions Russia. This entails an 8.30 pick-up and, working backwards a 6.30 alarm. All fine - except that by the time I get home tonight this will translate to 2.30 am. Oh, and it's snowing.

I arrive at the Radisson  before 9am, ahead of all my colleagues. But there are people who know what to do with me and, more importantly, coffee. The conference room is looking good, too. In due course Julia and Maksim arrive, followed by the delegates. I'm handed a small receiver with an earpiece through which I'll be able to hear the Russian speakers translated into English. I'm the opening speaker, after a brief introduction, and we're soon underway. My talk over, I regain my seat and the conference continues. It's now that I realise the value of the translators. In 30 minute shifts, they translate the speaker's comments in real time. Without them I wouldn't have the foggiest idea what's going on.

During the lunch break I have to do a video interview - again the translators step in to help - and then we're into the afternoon. A couple of the speakers are a bit rant-y and at one point the translator resorts to "blah, blah, blah", much to my amusement, but the organisers, sponsors and audience seem well satisfied. I, on the other hand, have a flight to catch and Moscow's traffic to contend with.

After a brief diversion to secure more Rubles -  I told you it was expensive! - I'm ready to leave for the airport. I'm pleased to see that my driver is Roman, who picked me up on arrival. I'm less pleased to see that the snow has turned to icy slush and the traffic is horrendous. Most of the jams seem to be caused by accidents, some of which look quite serious. Seemingly oblivious to the danger, Ramon serenely browses the internet for alternative routes around the obstructions and writes my receipt while driving.

We arrive without incident and in good time for my flight, which is no more than a third full. I safely negotiate the meal, which is described as "meat pasta" or vegetarian - the steward is unable to tell me what kind of meat so learning from recent food origin issues I opt for veggie. I watch the Hitchcock movie, which is not as bad as I expected. And then I'm home.

Looking back, I'm so glad I took the extra days to explore Moscow. It was a fascinating insight into a nation that on the surface aspires to be European but gives the sense that, just below the surface, has a seige mentality and an "every man for himself" approach to life. The people I met were unfailingly pleasant and hospitable, but when push came to shove - as it literally did on the Metro - no prisoners were taken and no quarter given. I've been impressed by the skills of craftsmen that can recreate architecture and interior finishes from medieval times and turn the rather turgid ideals of a soviet society into inspirational art, and frustrated by red tape that makes a simple transaction into an endurance test. I wouldn't want to live here, but I've enjoyed Moscow and would like to visit again.

On my arrival back at Heathrow I learn that a new Pope has been elected. Ironically, I overhear this news in a conversation between two stewards, both so camp that I'm certain the new pontiff would not consider them deserving of the church's blessing.

The Kremlin

An earlier start today, as Irena has pre-booked tickets for The Kremlin Armoury and our entry time is at 10am. Julia has been very reluctant for me to travel independently, but Irena is more relaxed about it and I have arranged to meet her at the Metro station to save her the trip to pick me up. We have a kerfuffle picking up Irena’s guide pass from the ticket office and she bemoans the way processes are constantly changed and always increasing in complexity. It’s another sunny day but bitterly cold again so it’s not comfortable hanging around while the issue is resolved.

The Armoury is more of a treasury, containing historic costumes, carriages and gifts presented to the Tsars by foreign rulers. There are a few weapons but we spend more time on the other exhibits. Some of the women’s dresses have ridiculously small waists and Irena tells me that one of them fainted 3 times during her coronation because she just couldn’t breathe. There is an astonishing amount of precious metals and jewels on display, much of it belonging to the church – the priests’ robes used to encrusted with pearls and embroidered with gold and silver thread, and even their bibles were bound in gold and gemstones. Irena is very knowledgeable and her stories bring the exhibits to life. I’m amused by the story of the two brothers who were made joint rulers while still very young and had a double throne constructed for them with a hidden opening in the back so that their elder sister – literally the power behind the throne – could whisper instructions to them when dealing with affairs of state. I also learn that Ivan the Terrible should properly be translated as Ivan the Awesome, although he beat his son to death in a fury after arriving unannounced at his home and discovering his son’s wife with her head uncovered – which I feel merits the “terrible” label.

After the armoury we explore the churches of Cathedral Square and the giant bell and cannon, neither of which were ever used except as displays of wealth and power. The Kremlin is an architectural treasure-trove, with curvaceous churches, ornate domes and elegant palaces. And plonked in the middle is a hideous 1960s monstrosity in concrete and glass, built as a convention hall for the soviets and now a concert hall with, according to Irina, rather poor acoustics.

 

The Kremlin tour over, it’s time to set out alone. Irina has kindly written me instructions explaining how to reach the Tretyakov Gallery by Metro. She suggests I eat lunch at the food hall in the underground mall that runs along the side of Alexander Gardens. I choose some sausages and mash, for which I am charged by weight. My journey to the gallery is uneventful, apart from being asked for directions, but it’s quite a speedy visit as Julia has invited me to the office and she’s expecting a call about 4pm to let her know I’m ready to be picked up and walked there. I get back about 4.10 but when I try to call her the number won’t work. When I’ve exhausted all the options I can think of I google the address and copy it in to Nokia maps. It says it’s 7 minutes away so I set off, finding it quite easily. Julia is so surprised to see me, and slightly horrified that I attempted it. I decide not to mention that I took myself off to the gallery, or that I’m planning to return to Red Square to see it after dark.

 

From the office I go straight to Alexander Park to buy the obligatory snow globe and fridge magnet at the kiosks I had noticed earlier, as well as some snacks and sweets to bring home, from the nearby supermarket. The evening sun casts a golden glow over the buildings and I wander round the park and take photos, then move on to Red Square to find Gum is illuminated in the style of Harrods. It’s dusk now and I want to stay until it’s really dark, but I’m aware that I still have to get back to the hotel, eat dinner and pack and tomorrow will be a long day. With my sensible head on I head back and treat myself to the first vodka of my visit while uploading my photos to the netbook. It costs 500 Rubles – about £12.

After dinner and a quick Skype home I go to bed, but the room’s too hot, the air conditioning won’t stop humming and I don’t get much sleep.

Red Square and St Basil's Cathedral

I slept wonderfully well, and awake to a bright, sunny morning. Breakfast is excellent and I wrap up warm for a day of sightseeing. My colleague in Moscow, Julia, has arranged a guide for me and Irena meets me in reception wearing a long mink coat. We quickly recap the brief I had emailed to Julia and set off to explore the Metro which is reputed to be a tourist attraction in its own right. I have plenty of layers on, which is just as well as it’s a very chilly walk to Prospekt Mira station. We take the circular brown line to Komsommolskay station which is decorated with mosaics celebrating the values of the communist era, then to Novolslobodskay which does the same in stained glass, then Kievskaya (historical panels). Switching to the dark blue line we visit Kievskaya (paintings) and Revolution Square with its bronze statues. There was certainly no lack of creative talent in soviet Russia: even though the subject matter was quite consistent, the executions were varied!

We emerge in a square fronted by 16^th century walls, the Hotel Metropole and the Bolshoi Theatre and with a statue of Karl Marx in the centre. We haven’t got far before my face – the only exposed portion of my body – begins to ache with cold. It’s a bright day but there is snow on the ground and the wind is icy. We walk towards Red Square (the name actually means “beautiful square”) and enter through the Gate of the Resurrection. I immediately recognise St Basil’s Cathedral at the far end with its candy-coloured domes but the outdoor skating rink is less familiar and blares out “Gangnam Style” as we pass. To one side of the square are the red walls of The Kremlin, with Spasskaya Tower and the so-called Secret Tower from which Ivan the Terrible would covertly watch the action in the square. The other side of the square is flanked by the grand façade of Gum, the famous department store.

We explore St Basil’s Cathedral, which is actually a cluster of churches, each dedicated to a different saint; St Basil (or Vasily) is simply the most highly revered. Irena explains the traditional layout of the orthodox iconoclasty, which has the church’s nominated saint to the right of centre and a strict hierarchy of icons. Frescoes also adorn the other walls, again following a specific format with judgement day on the wall facing the altar. In the central chapel a 3-man choir sings – the size of their sound and their vocal range are impressive. Apparently choirs always sing acapella in orthodox churches so the booming low notes we associate with church organs are created with the voice.

Our next stop is Gum, which turns out to be more of a mall than a department store and populated mostly by the more upmarket global brands. We explore the rather exclusive delicatessen on the ground floor – which feels like it comes from another era and smells divine – and then have a rather more modest lunch of Porhzovski (traditional pies) at Café 57 on the first floor; these come in both sweet and savoury flavours, encased in a kind of glazed bread.

 

The afternoon begins with Alexander Garden where we see the tomb of the unknown soldier and its eternal flame and then walk along the opposite side where there are statues depicting fairy tales and four lifesize horses outside what used to be the state riding school. We take the metro once again, this time to the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour which is a modern reconstruction of an earlier cathedral which was demolished to make way for an ill-fated soviet civic construction project and now has a basement church beneath it – The Church of the Transfiguration – where a swimming pool briefly existed.

There’s a walking bridge next to the cathedral, which has great views of the upper parts of The Kremlin in one direction and the ridiculously huge Peter the Great memorial in the other. From here we can also see the former Red October chocolate factory and a soviet apartment block so large it has its own power station. The next stage of our tour is by tram; the 5-journey ticket I bought for 135 Rubles (about £3.50) is good for any length of journey on any form of public transport. I think it’s really good value but Irena remembers when a journey cost 7 Kopeks. We finish at a mall where Julia and her colleague have arranged to meet me for some shopping before the ballet. There are few stores I don’t recognise and the prices are pretty high – a fur hat (not that I would buy one!) is anything upwards of 200 Euros and a large proportion of people wear them. Fur coats are also worn by a large proportion of women - and they start at about 2,000 Euros.

Julia recommends a snack before the ballet and proposes pancakes which are traditionally eaten in the week before orthodox lent begins. Then it’s back on the metro to travel out to the theatre where we are meeting Maksim’s wife for the ballet. We see Spartacus, which is remarkable for its raunchiness and the brevity of the male dancers’ costumes – plus, of course, the artistic interpretation of a classic legend! After the show Julia and I travel back towards the hotel and stop at a restaurant called Yiki-Palki which serves traditional Russian dishes. It’s pretty late by the time I get back to the Garden Ring but before I can go to bed I have to pay some attention to my face which has red, swollen blotches from the cold.

 



Moscow bound

An inauspicious start – the flight was delayed for an hour due to ice on the flaps and some missing paperwork. The cabin steward (Darren – I made a special note!) was particularly offhand and abrupt. But, on the plus side, a strong tailwind enabled us to make up the time and we arrived more or less on schedule. Only a four hour flight, but the 4 hour time difference meant a whole day spent getting to Moscow.

Surprisingly, getting into Russia turned out to be easier than entering Australia – a short queue at immigration and a long wait for baggage, but otherwise uneventful. As promised, I was met in the arrivals hall by my driver, Roman and driven to my hotel. The traffic was a bit sticky but this was less of a concern than the laptop mounted on the dashboard which Roman consulted frequently, both to check his emails and to show me photos of his daughter Deanna and his cat, whose name I can’t recall.

Against the odds, we arrive safely and I check in. The Garden Ring Hotel is fairly new and my room is comfortable, apart from the faint whiff of drains in the bathroom. Once unpacked and fed (Beef Stroganov in the hotel restaurant) I Skype home. After a late night and an early morning, the time difference is negligible – I’m definitely ready for bed.

Homeward bound

An early start and a pleasant surprise when pretty much a full breakfast buffet awaits us in the restaurant at 6am. We load up the car and set off for the airport in the dark. We're planning to fill up at the filling station behind the car hire office but although we follow the credit card pre-pay instructions we just can't make the diesel come out. We give up and hand the car back with 3/4 of a tank, and the fuel surcharge is not much more than it would have cost to fill it at the station.

The terminal is a short walk away and we have chores to do - claim the tax back on the volcanic rock bracelet I bought at Gullfoss and change our Kroner back to Sterling. Both are accomplished without drama, Alex has a hot dog for breakfast (!) and we arrive at the gate to find our flight is already boarding. An uneventful flight home, arriving to unseasonably mild weather and a bright blue sky - a rare treat after perpetual twilight.

We may not have achieved our objective, but this was still a fantastic holiday. We have seen so much that it feels we have been away much longer than four nights. Now to find another destination to search for the Northern Lights ...

Fool's errands 1, Northern Lights 0

While we were sleeping it must have thawed, because the snowman’s head has fallen off. Lucky we took advantage of the snow last night. The sky is still heavy and when we leave the hotel we discover that it’s raining. But first, breakfast: make-yourself waffles is the highlight. While we eat, we check the routes to Gullfoss and the travel news. The route using primary roads is twice as far as retracing our steps from last night, and the conditions are reported as reasonable so we decide to go cross-country.

The drive is uneventful and we are among the first to arrive at Gullfoss; the snow on the path to the falls is unmarked. We can hear the falls long before we reach them, and they are truly magnificent. The water flows down a wide first drop, then some rapids and then a second drop into a deep gorge. Apparently the flow is sometimes so powerful that the water overflows the gorge. 

Visibility isn’t great and it’s raining still, but I take many photos while Alex and Simon build a snowman at one of the best viewpoints. It quickly becomes a tourist attraction of its own – people are photographing it before they have even finished building it.

After a brief – but expensive! – shopping stop, we set off for Reykjavik. Again we take the most direct route, past Geysir and along the fault at the edge of the Eurasian plate. As we pass the geysers the steam mingles with the low cloud. The road appears to be only wet but I discover it’s ice beneath when we power slide around a bend. In the national park there is a lot of snow on the road and the monster trucks throw it over the windscreen as they pass, blocking my visibility. It’s pretty scary.

Leaving the national park the road climbs higher towards a ski resort; there is more snow here and taller road markers. Then suddenly we are descending, the driving conditions improve and we reach Reykjavik at about 2.45. Arriving at the Hotel Klettur the receptionist kindly offers an early breakfast and Alex is happy to find the first “real” bed of the holiday.

We’re hungry but we decide to check out the cathedral before we eat, as it will begin to get dark soon.  Its design is inspired by the basalt columns we saw near Vik, and there is a statue of Leif Ericsson outside. We take the lift to the top of the tower, from which there are great views of the city and its colourful houses, the port and the surrounding mountains. Then Simon navigates to the old part of the city, beyond the lake, with a brief stop at a noodle shop on the way.

I don’t find Reykjavik a particularly attractive city. The newer houses are drab and grey, made of concrete and corrugated iron, and look institutional. The older buildings are more colourful but built from the same utilitarian materials. There are some impressive detached specimens along the lakeside, and the view is made more picturesque by the lights reflected in the wet roads and pavements. We find a restaurant for dinner and browse the shops, but it’s not particularly enjoyable walking in the rain so we head back to the hotel.

In reception, we notice that the Northern Lights tours are going ahead and the receptionist tells us that the area around the airport is expected to clear later. We check the weather and Aurora forecasts and, although the chances seem slim, we decide to drive out and take our chances. After “epic” burgers at Café 73 we pick up the car at the hotel and set off for the most westerly village on the peninsula, beyond the airport.

Looking for a dark corner, we park behind a church at the far end of the village. It continues to rain. We walk a little way along the track to check whether we can turn around at the end. It rains some more. It’s 10pm, Alex’s cold is worse, Simon doesn’t feel well either and the rain shows no signs of stopping – and we have to get up at 5am. We’re in the car debating our next move when a convoy of three tourist coaches passes on the main road. Wondering if they are Northern Lights tours, we decide we have nothing to lose by following them. Their destination turns out to be the airport. It’s still raining so we decide to drive back to the hotel and get some sleep

Continental plates 2, Northern Lights 0

Following in-depth research last night, it had been decided that I would get up at 6am to check for the Northern Lights. My enthusiasm was somewhat diminished by the time the alarm went off, but I pulled on my warm clothes over pyjamas and ventured outside. So glad I did! Not that the Aurora appeared but it was beautiful nonetheless; still and silent, the snowy mountains glowing in the moonlight and a million twinkling stars. Just our luck that perfect weather conditions coincide with a period of very low auroral activity.

Back to bed for a couple more hours before proper waking time, still well before dawn. We sit down to breakfast at 9; not such an impressive spread as yesterday but as it's new year's day we're not sure where our next meal will come from so we eat well and I pack a sandwich for Alex.

When we set off for the Golden Circle the moon is still high in the sky. We drive for half an hour before seeing another car, then find a petrol station open and stop for drinks and a coach party arrives - the first we've seen.

Our first stop today is the crater of a small volcano at Kerið. We take a brief look from the rim, then found a path leading right down to the frozen pool at the bottom; there was even a bench down there! Alex enjoyed skimming stones across the ice.

We continue on to Þhingvellir national park and drive around the plain between the Eurasian and North American continental plates. The scenery is dramatic, with deep rifts, rocky escarpments and corrugated rocks made when oozing lava solidified. We stop briefly at the information centre for lunch and the woman who serves us advises us where to go - there is a path through the rift valley to the place where Iceland's ancient parliament first sat, and a bonus - another waterfall.

 The sun has already set when we set off for Geysir but at this latitude twilight lasts a couple of hours, giving the illusion that time has stood still. We can tell when we're nearing our destination as the plumes of steam are visible in the distance. The original Geysir no longer blows unless there is an earthquake but Strokkur lets rip every 8-10 minutes. There are a number of steaming pools of various sizes and they cast a pall of steam that looks pretty atmospheric in the gathering gloom.

We still have Gullfoss waterfall to see today but it's almost dark when we set off and although it's only 10km down the road it's impossible to see it when we arrive, although we can hear it rumbling. Our hotel is only 30km away so we can return in the morning.

The route to Flúðir starts off as an unmade road but it's well maintained and clearly marked. There are points on the horizon where an eerie orange glow lights the sky; we think it's the sodium lamps in greenhouses. We find our hotel easily, it's larger and more modern than the others we have stayed in, but there's only one car in the car park - although a coach arrives as we bring in our bags. Apart from this, the sizeable town seems deserted - there's nobody about and the silence is slightly surreal.

Our room is rather like a beach hut, and the bathroom has a door opening onto a central garden where the beach hut effect is even more pronounced. We turn on the tv and find that Celebrity Mastermind (formerly compered by Icelander Magnus Magnusson) was about to start, followed by Up. Having postponed an earlier trip to Iceland in search of the Northern Lights, Simon had insisted we shouldn't let the trip become an "Up" moment - if I was superstitious. I would definitely consider this A SIGN.

We check the forecast again and see that we have total cloud cover and low auroral activity, meaning no chance to see the Northern Lights tonight. But we all agree that it's not too much of a disappointment because of everything else we've seen. After dinner in the hotel we discover that it's snowing: a definite bonus for Alex. We end our day with a snowball fight and build a snowman.