Kazan: monday.

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Liisa spent yesterday in Ulyanovsk, a town four hours away by minibus. It has been re-named as it is the place in which Lenin was born. I went to the station at 5.20 in the morning to meet her, to save her walking back on her own. It can't have been a particularly interesting town, as all she spoke about was the people she met while buying her tickets and the journey itself. We got lost on the walk back to the hotel and ended up in a Shokoladnitsa café. We watched the sun rise out of the window while drinking cocoa, while 'Easy Like Sunday Morning' by the Commodores played quietly on repeat.

It made me think even more that I want to work in a Russian speaking town when university is over, as among the amounts of stress that Russia will put you through there are some surreally tranquil moments. And my refusal to live in the capital means I have to find somewhere else. Perhaps Kiev now has a rival. What helps is that there is another culture and language to compliment the Russian part, just as the Ukrainian capital has, and that keeps me interested.

I slept again from 9 until 12, and woke up to find that we were being told to leave the hotel, despite the reservation I had made last week. There are no hard feelings; if I am old enough to have a favourite hotel then Fatima is definitely it. The man in reception told us to try Hotel Tatarstan, a large ugly concrete building in the centre. We went there and I was told that they had no free rooms.

Luckily the babushka who was sitting in a chair in the corner of the lobby - it might have been her job as she was dressed smartly - overheard me. She had an acquaintance with a flat to let, if we waited for twenty minutes she would call her to meet us at the hotel. And so we did, as 1500 roubles per day was too good to refuse. When she arrived she was very friendly, a small dark-haired lady of about 50 called Mila. Liisa ordered me to "be a man and do the talking" so I did. My Russian is always better when there is a responsibility attached to it and once we I had met Mila I couldn't stop myself from talking. We agreed on the price then got into a taxi to go to our new home. On the way our landlady asked us a lot of questions, and said that the young man speaks Russian very well. Compliments from people I meet mean more to me that university marks, as they are exam results in themselves.

We arrived at a neighbourhood behind ulitsa Butlerova, grey and run down but not falling apart. Block number 32, fourth floor. The girls were excited about their first Russian flat but to me it felt eerily similar to how I lived in the autumn. I still hate Russian keys. Mila showed us a bedroom with two beds in, a bathroom that is a foot higher than the rest of the appartment, a fold-out double bed in the living room and the small kitchen. She made sure we knew everything we needed to, and underlined her mobile number four times on a map of the town in case we needed her. The flat is quite dark and the floor was cold but it was cosy enough.

I complained at being made to eat in a children's café last time I was in Kazan, but maybe this time I have grown up enough to enjoy the irony. We had dinner in a different one, Kafe Skazka, where a shrieking parrot tried his best to put us off our food until the waitresses put something in his water bowl that knocked him out.

I hadn't felt this peaceful for a long time. My head still hurts from pressure coming from all sides - and will until I leave - but I escaped from it for a day. Maybe the secret is to always get up at 4.45. I also had a good nights' sleep in a comfortable bed.

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Photos

Our neighbourhood for three days.
Behind ulitsa Butlerova.

Kazan State University, Physics building.
The reason why so many of the world's leading scientists are Russian - it's better to be on the inside working than on the outside admiring the view.