Solyanka

I'd heard many a good word about this haunt and I was eager to see if such rave reviews were justified.  I read one review that claimed "If you ask any trendy Muscovite where the best club is in Moscow they will undoubtedly send you to Solyanka".  After making it past face control it was clear to see why it is a scenesters paradise. Its mismatched and natty furniture is adorned by fashionable young folk who puff smouldering on their cigarettes between sips of the house liquor.  Some talk, some simply sit, content in silence.  They wait nonchalantly for the evenings proceedings, spectating for the moment.  The dim lighting creates a living room-esq effect perfect for pre-party ambiance. There is no doubt that Solyanka hosts the mother of all house parties on a weekly basis, resident home to Moscow's hipster elite.

Moscow by night...

Friday finally arrived and I hurried back to my my apartment to slick on some lippy and change into something a little more city slicking chic :)  Driving into the city, leaving the shady canopy of the forest behind I had that Friday feeling.  I was excited about seeing Moscow after the days light had departed and the illuminating lights were shining bright. 

After hopping out a Gum shopping centre next to Red Square I had a random encounter with some men from Monte Negro, after a friendly exchange I set off to meet Jessie outside the Lenin Central Library.  Unknowing to the underpass in the Metro I attempted to cross the road which is a main artery into the city.  Trying to fathom how I was going to make it to the other side in one piece I soon realised that I was the only person trying to make a dart in front of six lanes of turbo engines. 

I went under through the metro walkway and then stopped to ask for directions to the Library.  I admit that my expectations of Russian friendliness were incredibly stereotyped and a stark contrast to the reality. I approached three girls and before I could begin to speak one hugged me and gave me a bunch of flowers.  I explained that I was English and she tried to recall the word that she was searching for, pausing with a broad smile.  "Present, for you" she said and the three girls wanted to take photographs and they introduced themselves.  Anne commented that I have nice teeth (the family nashers always seem to prompt some comment!) while Natalie insisted that I have some of her beer. 

After taking photographs and our giggle ridden exchange Deena showed me where I needed to go to meet Jessie and told me that she was a doctor and a dance teacher.  She told me that she loves to help people and being a doctor allows her to do this whilst being a dance teacher allows her to continue something she is passionate about.  Such a lovely, warm natured person and the kindness of these girls eradicated any misconceptions I may have had previously about the manner of Muscovites.  

After meeting Jessie we hopped in a 'Gypsy cab', travelling in true local style.  She gave me some tips about hailing one down to ensure that its a safe set of wheels you're getting into.  Sure enough a car pulled into the side of the road, dusty and rusty as if fresh from a building site.  We arrived at Solyanka and I left my flowers in the cloakroom just incase it didn't go down too well with the 'face control' team waiting at the top of the stairs.  After convincing the lady on the door that we were meeting people inside we were able to enter the realm of Moscow's hipsterville. 

Where?

She sits here in this unfamiliar place

far flung, widespread

the vast landscape sprawling.

Desolate wooden structures

dot through the woodlands blind

Abandoned tricycles,

Wendy house doors left open. 

Why did everyone leave in a hurry?

Fled.  The children aren't out to play today.

Perhaps tomorrow,

when the sun will poke through the sheltering peaks.

The squirrels will come to collect their nuts

not hide away in the bowels of the forest.

Perhaps she will see a smiling face,

or something that resembles.

St Basils Cathedral, Red Square

Tretyakovskaya Metro Station

The Ivan The Great Bell Tower Ensemble

Forged Footsteps

Gently drawing back the curtain she leans on the window frame and watches the frost glazed morning.  The trees are sparse, stripped of their leaves they stand bare and exposed.  A man crouches on the ground and blows into his clenched fists, nipped by the early chill.  He lights up a cigarette, and pauses with each reach to his mouth.  The faint glowing flicker slowly fades.  The day is still and undisturbed, even by the sound of a morning lark.  The fridge hums as she runs a bath and soaks, enveloped by warmth. 

She turns the keys but isn't sure how many times, a kitten is curled up on the faded armchair as she passes to call the iron lift.  Her breath is one step ahead of her new footsteps as she tries to take in everything around her.  The abandoned glass bottles, cigarette stumps like Hansel and Gretel breadcrumbs.  Buzzing the gate she smiles at the security guard who has one eye closed.  Making her way through the parted thicket blacked out cars in convoy pass and continue along the stretch.  She sees a lady foraging in amongst the woodland picking mushrooms, careful to avoid the toadstools.  Pine cones and leaves crunch underfoot as she makes her way...

From Russia with Love

I wait in the departure lounge at Helsinki airport and suddenly reality dawns.  I am waiting for a flight that is going to take me to the land of mysticism and intrigue.  As I board the airbus to take us to the plane I look around at the unfamiliar faces, expressions that i've never seen collectively before.  A fusty smell lingers between the frozen figures and as I inhale deeper the faint scent of vodka clings to my nostrils.  The stereotypes fit and there was no doubt that our final destination was the motherland, and I could hear it calling.

My messenger in disguise?

Gently lifted, transcending above

the norm.

The scatter of green flowered tops

soon switch to dancing clouds.

The sunlight peaks from beneath

the shutters tilt.  It warms my hair.

Illuminates my scribbling hand

My blinking eyes flutter, strained.

I listen intently to the pilots announcement

though I cannot decode a word.

Looking at the faces I try to distinguish

and define

difference.