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Published: June 17th 2007
After disembarking the Trans Siberian at Moscow we were welcomed with open arms by the charming locals including a stripper who was at work in the car park.
We gathered quickly that Muscovites are either helpful and very nice or very bad-mannered and grumpy. Before long, Jo was falling out with the ones who refused to understand the concept of queueing up to see Lenin.
A trip to the Moscow State Circus was enlightening. While Mark was in raptures about the tigers who jumped through hoops of fire ("It's just liking making a dog collect the newspaper"), Jo was perturbed to see that a brown bear was capable of riding a moped, a skill which has thus far eluded her.
If your budget is less than 25 quid a head, Moscow food is so bad that McDonalds becomes a thrice daily occurence. However we did splash out one night in a restaurant which employed staff dressed as serfs. They're not smurfs and they don't surf, they just serve.
In between the Kremlin, Red Square and other sites, Mark got beaten up while bartering for a baby blue tracksuit and started reading Dostoyevsky.
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