Goodbye
I walked hurriedly under the mid-day sun, breaking out into a jog every now and then as the wave of panic and paranoia got closer to overwhelming me. As I approached the entrance of the bazaar I readied my 10 ruble entrance fee, a fee which was non-existent for the previous 2 days. At the gate I promptly handed over the money as I strode through the entrance, barely pausing to receive my “entrance pass”, all the while cursing this supposedly communist gate keeper for his opportunistic, capitalist hypocrisy. As I walked further into the bazaar my mind hardly registered the familiar rows of dolls and soviet memorabilia, I was focused on one thing and one thing only- finding Carol. She had missed our meeting time some 45 minutes earlier and the concern that I initially felt had quickly slipped to worry with each one that passed. The fact that she was supposed to be with Yock Song, our unofficial tour guide who “always keeps the time”, further exacerbated my fears that something had gone horribly wrong…
The day’s events were turning out to be a sharp contrast to the placidity of the previous 18 hours. Nothing much had happened, after we left the Kremlin we walked around the city. We took a look at the famous Bolshoi Theatre and tried in vain to find tickets for a cheap opera/ballet/show. After having dinner (at KFC) we headed back to the hotel and that was about it…
I headed deeper and deeper into the bazaar in my desperate search. Panic had started to gnaw its way into my heart, causing it to beat faster as I despaired over how large the bazaar was; there were whole sections that we had left unexplored. Just then I bumped into another of our (Taiwanese) travelling mates, and I asked him if he had seen Carol and Yock Song. He said he had, about a half hour ago, and that they said they were heading back then. With no news to allay my fears and no plan besides frantically tearing through the whole bazaar, I decided to head back to the hotel to touch base with Debbie and the others who were waiting. My mind was quite a blank on my walk back, the only thing I can remember thinking was how hot it was, how sticky I had become and how we were supposed to be heading to St.Petersberg that night. Supposed to be- if I could find Carol… Without over dramatizing, it would suffice to say that morbid thoughts had started to creep in. In that frame of mind, there was no way I could have guessed what would happen just 20 meters from the hotel. From about those 20 meters away, I saw someone round the last corner that would lead me to the hotel entrance. She was wearing her black jacket, faded blue jeans and green shoes. With a concerned look on her face, she hurried towards me as I did the same, and we shared a moment of relief. Carol quickly apologized that both she and Yock Song had forgotten the time, as well as causing me so much worry. I was just so relieved!
The 5 (or was it 6) of us did the usual thing of depositing our bags and the train station and did more shopping and eating at Arbatskaja. Carol and I managed to find “moo moo”, the restaurant that served reasonably priced local food, while the rest ate at a Georgian restaurant. From there Carol and I split from the rest to try and visit more places. We landed up at a spot where, slightly less than 200 years ago, a Frenchman by the name of Napoleon was stood up by the Russians. Poklonnaya Hill. Napoleon’s Grande Armée had overrun the city and he had expected to receive the keys to the kremlin, which was the symbol for surrender. The Russians never surrendered. The victory park is dedicated to the wars that Russia has fought, but has a particular emphasis on the Napoleonic war and the Second World War. In the far western side of the park, the huge museum you see in our photos is the Museum Panorama “Battle Borodino”. The Battle of Borodino took place just a few days before Napoleon took Moscow, and was a particularly bloody and indecisive battle, after which Napoleon had remarked: “Of the fifty battles I have fought, the most terrible was that before Moscow. The French showed themselves to be worthy victors, and the Russians can rightly call themselves invincible”. I could go on and on about the park, the obelisk, the always awesomely cool St.George slaying the dragon, or the blood-red-lit-by-night-fountains, but the pictures will suffice. We tried visiting the museum but were too late, and so we left the park in our efforts to cram one more attraction into our schedule.
Read what Wikipedia has to say about our final attraction in Moscow: “The Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts is the largest museum of European art in Moscow, located in Volkhonka street, just opposite the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. The museum's name is misleading, as it has nothing to do with the famous Russian poet. After the Russian capital was moved to Moscow in 1918, the Soviet government decided to transfer thousands of works from St Petersburg's Hermitage Museum to the new capital. These paintings formed a nucleus of the Pushkin museum's collections of Western art. But the most important paintings were added later from the State Museum of New Western Art. These comprised Impressionist and Post-Impressionist artwork, including top works by Van Gogh, Gauguin, Picasso, Dufrénoy and Matisse. In 1937, Pushkin's name was appended to the museum, because the Soviet Union marked the centenary of the poet's death that year.” – Doesn’t it sound awesome and cultured? We never found it… After strolling through a park with some interesting sculptures, we made our way to the train station.
It was finally time to say goodbye Moscow, and hello to St.Petersberg!
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| From Moscow Magic! |