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Published: April 14th 2010
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Domes
In the kremlin. My first impressions of Moscow, were much better than those of St Petersburg. If St Petersburg felt like a run down Vienna, Mocow felt like a slightly asian version of London, a nice spacious mix of old and new. A jagged skyline of high rise buildings, shopping centres, monuments and churches. It was, for me, a much less opressive city, with people who weren't overly friendly by western standards but did actually respond when you tried to communicate!
I got to moscow, as per usual in this story, by sleeper train; A sleepless night in yet another slightly too short bunk! As the journey was only 7 hours, we arrived early in the morning before the metro had even opened. On the train I was befriended by a Russian student who chatted with me until the city woke up. It was Easter weekend and he was returning after seeing his family. He gave me an easter egg, unlike the chocolatey ones I'm used to. This was a boiled egg with a beautiful shrink wrapped plastic religious picture on it (which made it rather hard to get into). And if this wastn kindness enough, him and his friend even escorted me
to the door of my hostel, before going off to the pub for an early morning drink!
The hostel in Moscow was a rather odd affair. The building was lovely and old and based on the pedestrain street 'Old Arbat'. There were elaborate curtains, wooden floors and even a piano. However it very cramped indeed, in a state of disrepair and seemed to have a number of very strange permanent residents that made everyone feel a bit uncomfortable. Most of the guests were friendly though and I ended up eating a few meals with an Englishman called Ed and an Irishman called Andrew. There was also a Scottishman involved, but alas no punchline to complete the joke, so I won't go into details.
The 'sights' of Moscow are not as numerous as St Petersburg but I think they are as splendid. The city centres on the red square, the site of much historical action, the resting place of Lenin and a very beautiful pace. The main entrance to the square is through a big gate surrounded by souvenir stalls. Next to this is a floor plaque marking the centre of the capital, the imposing redbrisk state history museum
and a small colourful orthodox church from which wondeful music ensues. Along the east side of the square is 'GUM' shopping centre, an ornate glass roofed mall that is lit up wonderfully at night. On the south side is St Basils Cathedral. It's brightly coloured, mismatched, onion domes are a synonym for moscow. They are a stunning sight, similar to the church of the spilt blood in St Petersburg, and inside, once again a small warren of sub-chapels with lovely walls of icons and a very welcoming feel.
The last side of the square is taken up by the imposing wall of the Kremlin. The seat of the rather scary Russian government. A walled citadel which, for a small amount of money, a stroll though some metal detectors and a quick bag search, anyone may see. Given that chance, I would highly recommend it. There is a whole square of cathedrals. At least five individual churches facing each other; Big, imposing, white marble structures with tall towers and gold gilt domes that glittered grandly in the spring sunshine. The insides were no less impressive. These are, after all, the Kremlin cathedrals. No expense is spared in their upkeep and
Old Arbat Street
A street full of souvenier shop and portrait painters and where my hostel was. furnishing. Unfortunately, no photographs were allowed inside, so you will have to trust me when I say that each cathedral was covered floor to ceiling in antique icons and freezes. Whirlwinds of colour and copious gold embellishment. There were massive pillars and beautiful stone floors, sourced from Siberia. The Kremlin was an unexpected haven of beauty and calm in the midst of the city. Some of the armed guards even smiled.
There are also a lot of museums in moscow and I did go to a few, although it really was the churches that stole the thunder. One interesting thing about Russia is that you never quite know if what you are looking at is genuine. Things are renovated and rebulit and reconstructed on a grand scale, and they don't always tell you what you are looking at. One thing that was entirely new was the spectacular Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. I found this rater amusing. You see, at some point in communist history, the origional cathedral was demolished by Stalin to make way for a grand palace. However this never got built so in 1997 the mayor of Moscow built a replica of the origional cathedral. It
looked the part and if it wasnt for my guide book, I wouldn't have known the difference!
In Moscow, I was blessed with warm weather and nice company. I ate ice cream in a park and bought Russian dumplings from a supermarket. I undertood cyrilic enough to navigate the metro system and managed to buy a train ticket to Irkutsk, my first destination on the Trans-Siberian railway. Perhaps most of what I've seen is fake. It's really hard to tell. The thing is, even if it isn't origional, it has generally been beautiful, and that, I guess, is enough for me.
Until next time my friends.
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what is real, what is fake?
I don't see what the concern is. Do you not consider yourself to still be yourself once every cell in your body has died and been replaced (excluding technicalities about bone marrow and such like that doesn't regenerate)? Similar arguments have been made for Ulysses' ship, and my bicycle.