'Allo 'allo.


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Europe » Russia » Centre » Tver
March 14th 2006
Published: March 15th 2006
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A small market near Ploschad' Sovetskaya.A small market near Ploschad' Sovetskaya.A small market near Ploschad' Sovetskaya.

There are thousands of places to buy socks in Tver - never a reason to go without.
My season-sickness had died down to to a head cold this morning, so I was well enough to go to classes. Zhanna talked with us about hobbies and how we spend our free time. I realised at some point in the middle of the lesson, that when I taught little Anya in Yaroslavl I spoke to her at the same level as Zhanna does to a class of people in their twenties.

In the break Natalia called the hostel reception telephone from Moscow, for her weekly Tver 'check-up'. As we were talking a lady entered the conversation, I have no idea where from. There was a distant crackle and a 'clunk' as she picked up a receiver somewhere, then both of us heard her saying confusedly "allo? allo? allo?". Both myself and Natalia replied to no avail, and the next sound we heard was another clunk as she hung up.

Yulia walked to the train station in the afternoon, to buy a ticket to go and see her family in Volgograd in a months' time. I went with her for some fresh air and to stretch my legs after four days wasted inside. The snow is melting, so the streets are covered with grey slippery mud that is terrible to walk through.

I allowed myself a quiet chuckle as Yulia (born in Petersburg, dual Finnish and Russian passport) enquired about train times; even her lips tremble slightly as she approaches a woman behind a desk, although her voice doesn't falter quite as drastically as mine. She invited me to go with her; sometimes you plan for an adventure, sometimes they happen sponateously. It's a very tempting offer but I haven't made my mind up yet; I'm put off by the thought of two dark and humid 29 hour journeys, and was hoping that during that week my 3000 word project would apear from somewhere. That said, it would be great for both the linguist and the explorer in me.

Café 'London' was too dirty for her liking, so we had a shashlyk at Ali Baba on the way home. In the evening I swapped my mattress for Tamzin's spare one, and dropped it off in the obshezhitie lounge on the way to my flat for a maximum of three people to do their homework on.

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