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| Father Frost |
Yeah yeah yeah I know...slight break in blog updates. If you knew how much vodka i've drunk recently then you'd understand the need for a break. I can only concentrate on one thing at a time and seeing as it was New Year, it was Vodka's time to rule. Writing whilst drinking vodka would be an earth shattering mistake as I think I could wake up and have one of those ' Oh no, I shared lots of intimate secrets with the whole of the internet world' or more precisely ' Oh no, I wrote a load of rubbish that no one can understand and shared it with my 2 followers' again - this will not be an experience I wish to partake in, call me old fashioned. Anyway, I managed to do a few embarrassing things recently which I will share with you and then you can laugh at me with a knowing smile.
The worst thing about leaving it so long to write is that I have to try and remember everything that happened in the last two weeks and trust me, I hate to bring up the vodka again but I've lost a few brain cells in the last wee while plus the vodka made me (IT MADE ME I TELL YOU!) fall over onto black ice quite a lot so my head is not what it used to be....and the learning Russian thing and trying to remember vocabulary is pushing my brain capabilities to the limit so be gentle folks, I am trying hard to think back before the vodka haze started and it's quite difficult.
Christmas Christmas...let's start there. So, main point about Christmas was we were not supposed to be here. We were supposed to be in Scotland, going to pantomimes, singing round the Christmas tree and eating Turkey - I was really looking forward to the break but as we were not allowed to fly we were stuck in Moscow which if planned would probably have been lots of fun but sadly we lost the spirit of Christmas along the way as we couldn't really be bothered to celebrate at all...baaa bloody humbug. We were knackered and ill...it seemed that Arthur and I were passing sore throats and colds back and forwards and he wasn't sleeping so I found myself watching strange programs on small villages in Africa and their ability to buy goods through their mobiles on BBC world at 3am whilst Arthur played with his pots and pans as if it were 3pm. The African village thing was highly interesting by the way - no house but a mobile to buy cows...you gotta love technology. Anyway, I digress....
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| Even Alice is knackered.... |
So the only thing within the house that looked slightly Christmassy was a small fir tree that my lovely friend Georgia bought me to help add a little 'hohoho' to the Ogilvie household. I placed this fir tree on our sitting room window ledge to keep it away from Arthur. Sadly the cats found it fun to knock it off every two seconds so my plan only half worked. We did have a rather amusing incident with the fir tree as when we had people to stay, Arthur's travel cot was under this same window ledge and I had put him to bed for an afternoon nap. Suddenly on the monitor I hear ' Mama, Mama? MAMA?' it wasn't a particularly distressed call, one more of enquiry - so I pop my head around the door only to find my child has been squashed by a fir tree...the fir tree had fallen into the cot and was laying on top of Arthur - he looked like the wicked witch of the East - just his fat legs poking out from underneath.
Bless him, he didn't scream, just wanted to know what on earth was going on. I kindly removed said fir tree and we haven't spoken about the incident since - he may need counselling in further life to deal with a terrible fir tree fear but we'll wait and see. By the way, child services can't contact you through a blog can they?
So Christmas was a bit of a non event in the Ogilvie household - we did run out and buy Arthur some tacky plastic gifts to really give him the sense of why Christmas is such a special time -
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| Christmas morning |
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| Building a garage - |
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| Destroying a garage |
Graeme felt the good old frustration that many fathers feel of having to build stuff at 6am only for your child to demolish it 10 seconds later....ahhh what fun.
Arthur also decided that the boxes that the toys came in were definitely worth more attention...
We had been kindly invited to Christmas lunch at the house of some American friends - it was goose and roast potatoes and cabbage - the goose was fantastic and the company was great which gave us some definite Christmas cheer. Arthur managed to avoid the cabbage but had a hearty portion of goose which he seemed to love.
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| Yummy Christmas dinner |
We had decided a few weeks back that we would try and find some bars in the evening to take our friends to when they arrived for New Year - a bar reccy of sorts. The 25th December means nothing to Russians and so we knew that the city wouldn't be busier than normal and it was a good chance for us to get out and celebrate a little Christmas cheer together. I had read about some interesting bars and a club that celebrated new year every night. I had researched all this online and in expat magazines and was sure that I had a plan sussed for when my friends arrived. The first place we were heading to was an Ice bar very near to where we lived. It had rained in Moscow for two days which is very unusual for this time of year but had then dropped temperature so that there was black ice everywhere. As we walked to this first bar we had to pass in front of The Bolshoi and the whole area was like an ice skating rink - you could see your reflection in it like it was a mirror. We stumbled across clinging onto each other and eventually found the bar in the bottom of a mall. We were then told very swiftly that the bar had closed down the week before - sorry. Oh great, that's just fine - onto the next bar on my list - City Space bar - found on top of the Swiss hotel with views across Moscow. We couldn't be bothered to get the Metro as walking anywhere was a nightmare on the ice so what do you do in these conditions? Hail down a gypsy cab! A young guy with a battered old Lada stopped and took us in - I have taken some pictures from the back of the car as I thought it might be my last journey - we were going at whatever the top speed for a broken old Lada is and we were pinging down the back streets across the black ice - rally driving at it's best I do believe -
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| Lada deluxe |
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| Took a picture of myself in Lada to help identify my remains if need be. |
So off we zoomed to the City Space bar which was worth the drive. It is classed as one of the top ten bars in the world and has lots of original cocktails - plus there was something rather 'Heston Blumenthal' about the drinks with ' vanilla foam', 'rose petals', 'Essence of violet' and 'egg white micro dust' (I made that up) but you get the general idea. The views from the bar were spectacular -
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| 'Midnight Rain' best cocktail I have ever tasted... |
Things were looking up - I had a bar to take my friends to! I called the waiter over and asked if I could book a 'table of 6 for January 2nd' - to which he replied ' sorry madam but we are closed from the 1st until the 10th of January' - WHAT? So far we were two bars down with only one left on my list to go - things were not looking good. If anyone comes to visit though, the City Space bar is well worth a visit - and always ask for a 'Midnight Rain'.
We then proceeded to the last of our destinations - a club called 'Purga' which was supposed to lie off a lane that was near our flat. The lane was only about 50m long so I thought we would find the club quite quickly. An hour later I was still dragging Graeme backwards and forwards down this damned lane with a determination I never knew I had. I kept asking people where the club was - some people said they had never heard of it, some people pointed me to doorways that looked like people's houses. At one point we knocked on a door that looked like a regular flat door and it was opened by two guys with suits and bow ties - I was getting desperate by this point and started to shout 'Purga' at them and then decided that my accent might be off so tried every variation of the word - Graeme said that he found it hysterical as I confronted these two guys shouting at them 'Purga, poorga? Pooga? Poogoo? For Feck's sake - can nobody understand me here?' At last one of the guys (maybe in desperation to get rid of me) said that he knew the club and that it was through a bar down the road. I think I hugged him at this point and then ran off in the direction he had pointed. We eventually found the bar - an Irish bar - yes, another one and I looked for the fire place - why was I looking for a fireplace you may ask? Well, you were supposed to get to the club through the fireplace of the bar - I know, it's sounding like I was on acid but seriously, the club had a website and everything. So, I finally see this newly painted, breeze blocked wall near the fire place and ask the waitress where the club entrance is, to which she replied ' Oh , that closed down last week' - OH MY GOD! What is it with this city and things not staying open for longer than 10 minutes?! I got my guide book and threw it to the ground in a temper and stamped on it a few times for good measure. Yet again we had ended up in an Irish bar, crying into a pint of Guinness. Thank god I had made us do a reccy of the bars - what a fun night that would have been dragging my friends around closed and disused warehouses, nice. The night had given us a glimpse at how quickly things change in Moscow - the city that never stands still, even for a beer. We ended up going to an American diner ' The starlight diner' to gorge ourselves on hamburgers and chips at 1am in compensation for my crap bar tour - the waitresses wear full cheer leading outfits so it wasn't all bad for Graeme. So, we didn't find our little Russia - we found, Swiss, Irish and American....the only thing I did that was remotely Russian was drink vodka and even that I watered down with carbonated water so I don't think I can even claim that.
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| 24 hour diner.... |
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| If you see a tour guide that matches this picture...walk away quickly. |
Christmas came and went in a rather normal calm and very non commercial fashion. I guess we won't be able to do this again as Arthur will start to wonder why he is the only child that has never heard of father Christmas. We have decided that staying in Russia for Christmas and New Year will probably be what we will do whilst we are living here as with all the disruptions with the weather in Britain and all over the world it is just not worth the risk of being stuck at an airport for 2 days, Graeme also wants to minimise air travel. Renting a Dacha in the countryside will be our aim to get some peace and quiet which is quite possible here without the manic Christmas spirit that takes over the west. I'm already looking forward to the day that Arthur can pick up a snowboard and we can do a bit of Christmas boarding...how old does a child have to be to snowboard? Can I masking tape him onto a board at 2 years and hope for the best? I've just looked it up and they can ski from 2/3 years but not board until later as they don't have the right balance and motor skills at 2 years for a board - I guess I'll have to put up with him looking tragic on a pair of skis for a while...maybe I can get Alice on a board instead.
On Boxing day we were invited to the house of some fab German friends where we sipped on Gluwein and ate small German biscuits. All very civilised and again, gave us the feeling of Christmas! My friend Georgia had actual candles on her Christmas tree like in years gone by and as I watched the flame dance I thought how beautiful they were and also how quick it would be in our house for a cat to catch on fire....or dog, or indeed baby or let's just say the whole flat and be done with it.
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| Black Ice - my nemesis |
Moving swiftly on to New Year - Our lovely friends arrived from Britain with their babies on the day before New Year. I had a rough plan although I was worried that most of the things I had found in the guide books were actually just total rubbish and didn't actually exist. New Year's Eve we decided to stay in the house and have a nice dinner and then get the babies up at 11.30pm and walk down to Red Square.
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| Hats obligatory.... |
We had enormous amounts of booze - including many straight vodkas. I wish to point out at this time that I haven't really drunk for months and so I seemed to want to catch up on all that drinking I'd missed out on...
We managed to wake the babies and trot down to just outside the Kremlin walls by Red Square for New Year - it was a little weird as people didn't know when it was midnight and so we had a few false 'Hurrahs!' and then it all went quiet again as people looked at each other in confusion - at last the fireworks went off and it was confirmed! The fireworks were pretty sub standard as fireworks go although having drunken a lot of vodka my expectations may have been too high or my eye sight impaired. It was snowing heavily which meant the sky was very white and cloudy but I found myself watching what seemed like a few red lights in the sky - Red being the obvious choice for the nation.
On reflection, do you think the very large bang at the end of this video was someone being shot rather than a firework? It is Moscow after all.
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| Kit, John and Amelia |
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| Arthur not very impressed... |
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| Jess on our street where they had stopped the traffic to the Kremlin |
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| Happy New Year! |
So we all returned to the flat and drank some more - as you do. I then decided that I wanted to go outside and build a snowman as it was snowing so heavily - I do think this idea was planted in my head by John as I have never had the urge to build a snowman - especially at 2am or 1am or 3am - what ever time it was. Myself, John and James headed outside for me to then declare that we should all go to a club - I might add that I don't remember all the finer details at this point as clarity had disappeared with the 40th shot of Vodka. The fact that I don't know any clubs didn't seem to worry me as I darted across the road to a local square, through an archway and then knocked on a door which was opened by a doorman and we entered. Now, I don't know whether I had been taken over by a lost Russian spirit or what the hell happened as I have no idea how I knew there was a club in this place behind this door - I might add that the door had no markings to indicate it was a club...very weird indeed. So we are allowed in - I'm amazed that they let us in our rather dilapidated state as we had been sliding all the way up the road through the snow. We go down into this club and are faced by thousands and millions of small white polystyrene balls. It was supposed to represent snow I think and came up to your knees. There was also a woman dancing on a platform with a fur bikini thing on and a fur hat if I remember correctly. I only have a few memories of being in the club - it is all a slight blur. I do remember being in the loo and then thinking I was locked in and that the door had broken. I was banging on the door and shouting for help which obviously brought many doormen into the toilets to help - I also remember one of the doormen shouting through the door for me to turn the lock - ahhh, that old chestnut, I'd forgotten that I had to turn the lock in order to escape the toilet....oh the embarrassment. I found it fun to dance like a child on the dance floor whilst throwing the balls up in the air with glee. I also remember leaving the club as I had decided that I wanted to go home and sleep and getting all the way back to my flat and thinking ' oh no, I've forgotten the boys' and so trudged back to the club only to be refused re entry and so sat outside in the snow waiting for them to realise that I'd vanished which wasn't long!
The next morning, Graeme got up to find hundreds of polystyrene balls all over the sitting room floor.....and was truly stumped to figure out what the hell had gone on in the flat whilst he was asleep - he was worried that he'd savagely attacked a pillow in his sleep - when I was asked what they were doing on the floor, I supposedly shouted from under the blanket ' They fell out of my trousers'. Ahhhh, well that solves that then. They didn't get much conversation out of me, James and John for a few hours and so the problem of where the balls came from went on for a while and was a heated breakfast discussion. When the reprobates awoke the puzzle was solved....although only a hazy version.
On the Saturday afternoon, we handed the babies over to a couple of nannies and we all went off to a famous Ukrainian restaurant called Shnook. The place is quite bizarre in the way that it has live animals in a farm like setting in the centre of the place.
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| You can see a cow in the background and a few chickens ...weird. |
It was an extremely fun time as we were all still slightly worse for wear - James ordered chicken kiev and stared at it whilst his stomach made washing machine noises. I spent 20 minutes in the toilet wandering whether I would be able to eat anything at all - I stayed off the alcohol although I was in the minority. The restaurant also had Ukrainian folk singers who walked around singing and making you join in - it was all rather hysterical - I managed a video of us all with bells and tambourines like a drunk Russian version of a Harry Krishna group. James was feeling particularly uncomfortable with the bell ringing....!
Laugh...god did I laugh..belly aching.
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| Ukrainian madness.. |
We went to see the 'Nutcracker' at The Bolshoi on the Sunday which was truly magical. The lead male was incredible and you have to admire their muscle structure. A male ballet dancer reminds me of the statue of 'David' by Michael Angelo - the perfect male physique - I don't find ballet dancers attractive but I do think they represent the most perfect state of the human body - muscle wise anyway. The main Bolshoi is closed for years for refurbishment and so you watch the performances on their practice stage called 'The new stage'. It certainly isn't as spectacular as The Bolshoi but the performance definitely was.
We then walked across to the Ritz Carlton for a very civilised Vodka tasting. As I tried each large glass of vodka my ability to retain any information regarding the vodkas diminished and so I am unable to recount many words of wisdom. I do know that one of the best vodkas in the world is actually made in France from grape skins - not your usual potato or wheat based spirit. It is called CIROC and tasted slightly of oranges and lemons (said the bells of St. Clements - did you not sing that in your head after that sentence or was it just me?) We also tried a couple of Ukrainian vodkas as the water in Ukraine is the most pure. I'm writing this from a very sketchy memory so please don't quote me. We were also served some food that Russians eat whilst drinking vodka like pickled herring and smoked salmon - the pickled herring remained on most of our plates...not a big fan. After 5 or 6 glasses of vodka we then had a massive snow ball fight on the top of the Ritz Carlton which looks over Red Square. All slightly crazy and I'm hoping that they let me into the Ritz Carlton in future - I may have to wear a fake beard and glasses. On the subject of glasses - when we left the hotel, the ice on the pavements was horrendous and I managed to fall quite dramatically, pulling down my poor friend Kit and both of us smacked our heads on the floor. The fall was so chaotic that I managed to lose my glasses - by that I mean spectacles not glasses of vodka i'd stolen from the Ritz. We managed to get to an Irish bar around the corner where I sat on the end of a bench and the whole thing went up in the air like a see saw depositing me unceremoniously on the floor...time to go home for Chloe.
The moral of this story - don't save up all your drinking time for when people visit - we live in Moscow so not many people will visit. Don't drink vodka when trying to walk on black ice - granted the lubrication probably saved me a few broken bones. Try not to be possessed by the spirit of a mad Muscovite who wants to lead you astray and take you to strange clubs and don't sit on the end of an unsecured bench if there is no one at the other end.
Apart from these hard lessons that I have learnt over the last past weeks we all managed to have a rather fabulous Christmas and a very splendid and joyous New Year with very dear and special friends.
I thank you! Take it away Arthur -
