We squeezed into the minibus at 7 this evening, and set off for Kazan. The 850 kilometres of road was all bumpy and uncomfortable, and twelve seats for ten people didn't leave much room to sleep in. There were pot-holes everywhere that threw us around, and we even drove through two fields near Ivanovo when the driver got lost. Ivanovo in the dark was a frightening place, the fog and eerily silent wide streets making it feel hostile. We arrived in Tatarstan fifteen hours later, feeling very tired and sore. We got to Hotel Fatima at 10 in the morning, unpacked and had a shower. It is decorated in a middle eastern style: whitewashed rooms with low beds, Tatar paintings in the corridors, and cream teracotta floors and suede sofas in the foyer. I shared a
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