Shit Happens and Bye Bye

Privet tavaritj, I suffered from post traumatic hangover yesterday but here comes the summary of last weeks 'business'-trip to Mother Russia;

My first encounter with Russian administration came in customs; Christ, I stood basically still for one hour before I made it by a depressing looking woman and into Russia.

Well inside Russia I discovered what many have done before me, the classy Russian dames are absolutely top class! The others look like they escaped from a zoo.

I co-travelled with a colleague who had arranged for a private driver to take us around during the business part of the trip. In neo-classic Russian style we travelled in a huge Mercedes through beautiful contrast Moscow to our top class hotel. Very classy start. Food at nice restaurants is also very good and relatively cheap. Always served with vodka, that one is supposed to drink pure of course.

Day two was filled with two meetings and an event at the evening. Event one went well, with a translator of course. Hilarious. We passed by the KGB academy on the way to meeting two.

Meeting two was very different. We were greeted overwhelmingly and straight away taken to lunch. Borstj, salad and vodka of course. Then time to do business. After the same procedure with a better translator in a bigger office the Russians started arguing wildly before surprisingly letting us know that we could do business. In the office stood a prancing little pony statue. At its hooves lay hard cash and credit cards. Russian feng shui for success and wealth they said. Grasping the context I quickly donated 10 quid for a successful deal. Big cheer from the Russian comrades. I wonder how I shall go about expensing that..

The last event was held at very classy Marriot hotel. In short it went well. Yawn. So far only the best of the new Russia, country of contrast.

Having spent a full day with a polite business smile it was a great relief to join forces with old friend 'the Colonel' and his friend S for some evening drinks. Let the debauchery begin;

1st stop; The red square, the Kreml and the cathedral 5 minutes from the hotel. Threw a coin outside a circle in the absolute centre of Moscow for a great night with my friends.

2nd stop, small club. Fabulous place, all vodka was served with a pint of beer. Not the other way around. This is Russia, mind you. We got nicely drunk. Then we moved to Solyanka, a bigger club. Gorgeous women, more vodka and soon my meeting the day after seemed distant. Somewhere in time my phone magically disappeared. About the same time as the Colonel. Sheit. Luckily I had subconsciously anticipated this and had the card to the hotel with me. Moscow is brighter than Stockholm in the summer and since the phone was my only time control I was a bit lost.

I think I took a cab home to the hotel. Took a deep vodka breath and strolled up to the concierge to get the phone barred. Must have been a sight for gods. I remember being very, very proud to remember ordering a wake up call to 9.30 as I had a meeting at 11. Also remembering that I had the Colonels no. on facebook I crashed in bed quite content knowing that I would get through the next day.

Sudden awakening as the phone rang in my unconsciousness to wake me up to an interesting day. It took a couple of seconds to remember why this was. Ok ok ok I figured. First a great breakfast, then the meeting before I could work for a while or go to the hotel spa and a police station. I think I took a shower before rolling down to an empty breakfast room. The waiter was kind enough to tell me that it was 12.15. Euuuh sheit.

-'I ordered a wake up call at 09.30' I grumbled with shiny red eyes to the kind woman in reception.
-'We called you at that time Sir, you did not answer'. Euuuuh Sheit.
-'What time is check-out?'
-'12.00 Sir'. Euuuh Sheit.

I made a quick check out. Then checked back into the business centre to resolve everything. Fortunately service at the hotel was top class and everybody spoke good English.

No number to the Colonel on Facebook. Crap. Moscow has some 30 million inhabitants. Slim chances to run into him on the street. Managed to get a hold of his number through my operator. Tried to resolve the case with the insurance company. Need to go to the police they said. No shit. Magically the Colonel was not at work as planned either and actually answered the phone. Phew.

We joined forces at 15 in the hotel, both having seen better days. Off to the closest police station, and officially the end of the luxury part of the trip. The local police station was a shack full of tired guys with machine guns and a supposed prostitute. Not a word of English was spoken.

Plan B; bar. After a pint and a coffee we managed to get a Russian flatmate to come down to help us translate. His job was to take pictures of people handing out flyers to make sure they did their job. Hopeful we went back. This time it went better, me and flatmate Sasha were escorted into the back room to the detectives. The room consisted of three old computers, two tired cops, one microwave oven and a tiny Matruschka doll. Nothing in the room had been cleaned for ten years. One of the guys looked mentally challenged to say the least. I struggled with keeping from laughing.

After being led out, and listening to all the cops, military police (and the prositute) argue we were told to go to a police station in another district. No extra effort for a 200 pound salary a month.

Very well, we toured to the next station. It rained a bit of course which was quite nice considering the hangover. We mistook a liver croissant for a chocolate one. Interesting.

Station two was one big room with reception to the left, waiting hall in the centre and a counter next to a primitive cell to the right. The old style cell, containing three prisoners was so close to the counter that they easily could reach whoever stood there. about 1,2 meters separated the bars from the counter. Charming. Of course this was not the correct station either.

Station three took the price. As we were told for the third time to go to another station we finally realized that changing the location for loosing the phone to the closest metro would solve the problem. We took a piss at the worst toilet I have seen. The dirtiest thing was the soap.

With our successful change of strategy we were once again escorted by a man with a gun to the back room, this time containg a total of three smoking Russians. Not understanding sheit of the conversation I looked around the room. Posters of Che, Vodka, porn and a little playboy sign sat on the walls. It was like walking in to a shop floor in the car industry 20 years ago. I had a hard time not smiling. After some 10 minutes of argumenting one of the cops stood up, looked at his watch, concluded that it was now after working hours and that we were not his problem. He sent us off in decent English with a 'shit happens and bye bye'.

I was of course enjoying myself tremendously during this 5 hour adventure. None less when buiying a bottle of fine vodka for 3 pounds and returning to the Colonels flat. Without exaggerating it was in worse shape than the police station. The mould in the shower room roof had its own life and the flat was packed with people and random stuff. A japanese family lived in the stairway. Where I lay my head is home so no problem. Especially after walking around Moscow in office shoes.

At the pre-party I managed to get the Colonel to write down his address on a piece of paper thinking last night might happen again. Ditched the party and some random women to go to a hip club. Took a wrong turn and ended up on the wrong side of a train track. Walking an extra 30 minutes around it was not an option. We crawled under a train and climbed over a steel construction surrounded by barb wire before jumping down and passing through the VIP line into the club, James Bond style.

The club was awesome to say the least. Apparently we had a great time as I lost all my cash and my sweater there before we returned to the club of the day before. Surprisingly I lost the Colonel again and ended up on the street outside sometime in the morning without a phone and no cash. Deja-vu. Resourceful I found a cash machine and a cab, found the address note and off we went.

At arrival the place did not exactly ring any bells. But then I had not been there more than once either. Some dumbass had gated the only entrance unfortunately. Having a mind without limits helps. I slimmed down and started to crawl under. A passer by must have had a laugh when he spotted me, stuck with my arse under the gate at 8 in the morning. I pushed through, only to learn that it was the wrong house and being thrown out by a guard. Great success.

This was not the best part of the trip. Wrong address, no phone and the bar I found was closed. Incredibly lucky I was when a bypassing woman allowed me to use her phone to wake the Colonel up. Even more luck was that he answered and knew where I was at. Content I leaned on a wall to not fall on the street.

The colonel himself had mysteriously picked up two girls at a McDonalds line, so he was not too thrilled to come and get me. Even less thrilled when we discovered that they had taken off when we got home. I cared less and slept like a child on the floor.

We surfaced at 15. Flight time was 2130. Time to go to the local market. After the must-have vodka breakfast we came to the market and saw two live bears in leashes try to fight. Sad but cool. Little time to spend there in the vast amount of souvenirs. First time I have bargained to buy postcards. In the end I found the grand price, a Liverpool Matruschka doll. Stevie G is the big one, inside him Torres, then Kuyt and Alonso before a tiny Hyypia appears. Hilarious.

Rushed to the airport with the train, to the airport bar and a last vodka race befopre I almost missed the flight home. They were nice to let me on in fact.

You know that you have had a good weekend when;

-You wake up and the stewardess feeds you an hour after everybody else.
-She brings water without you having asked for it and asks how your weekend was.
-She asks if you liked the Russian vodka much
-At landing she asks if you will be all right since they worry about you.

In short, this was an absolutely fantastic trip.

Spatsiba

Piotr
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