Business lunch.

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We got up at 8.30 and watched some Moscow breakfast television. My shower was a real treat; I hadn't touched warm, clean water for three weeks.

On her way to work Helen left me at Mayakovskaya metro station, which is half way down ulitsa Tverskaya. I strolled down the same street for three hours, trying to get a feel for the place.

Being 'downtown' it is incredibly loud; a permanent traffic jam with pavements packed with people. Red Square is half an hour's walk from Tsvetnoi Bulvar, so I walked as far as the Kremlin and back. Looking in some of the shops for a belt and spring jacket was fruitless as every store on each side of the street was very expensive.

I glanced up rather than left and right, to take stock of how many brands and companies are vying for space on the skyline. Nokia, Nevskoe beer, the newspaper Izvestiya, Kofe-Hauz, McDonalds and dozens more. There are brightly coloured banners across the street every 50 yards advertising an upcoming concert or an exhibition. For ten minutes I sat myself down on a bench outside Pushkinskaya metro, choosing my seat so that the statue of the man himself was gazing at a giant flashing Pepsi advert.

Pushkinskaya metro station - like most - has an underground mall attached to it, and I spent half an hour there looking in the small shops and stands. There are copied Hollywood films on DVD for 450 roubles, silk ties for 800, half-priced flowers for those who had forgotten women's day, watches, perfumes, books and jewellery of all sorts.

Moscow streets are the only place in Russia where fear is always at the front of my mind. I don't cross roads unless I am between two people, as zebra-crossings and traffic lights are dangerous. Even when I cross it is more of a jog than a walk, shaking my head to look for cars.

Two punks - both over six foot tall, black boots, camouflage army trousers, leather jackets, tattoes - walked in front of me and shouted "Russia for the Russians" in my ear as I tried to pass. Without opening my mouth I pushed through them.

Helen met me back at Mayakovskaya to have lunch. She chose an Italian restaurant where a lot of businessmen spend their breaks. Perhaps I will be one of them in five years' time - when I have a degree I will look for a job in Russia, as she has. At the moment being a student in the provinces suits me, but as soon as I have enough confidence in myself to live in the big city I will start looking. I said goodbye to Helen at 2.15, but hopefully not for long.

I took the elektrichka back to Tver in even more discomfort than on the way. I was one of the last onto the train which meant I had to stand. Every seat was taken, and the corridor between the aisles became even more of a scrum when more people got on at Kryukovo than got off. A seat became free half an hour from Tver, but the window was too dirty again for a photo of the sunset over the small villages.

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Photos

Tverskaya Ulitsa.
Noisy and busy.