On my travels I will be drifting through Moscow for a few days. I’ve done a bit of research (okay, so I have a travel folder, quit making fun of me and my paranoid anal organising!), and there are a few things I would like to do when I get there.
Of course the Kremlin with Red Square and St. Basils Cathedral will be first on the agenda, but I also want to eat at a random restaurant in the arbat and pretend to be a ballet dancer on the steps of the Bolshoi. I may decide to do a bit of intellectual tourism and head to the Tretyakov Art Gallery, but then again, I may not. Who knows how we’ll feel when we get there. I think it is of the utmost importance that Kate and I pretend to stalk each other in Gorky Park and drink too much vodka at an underground bar. Ooh, and I want to run amuck inside the Moscow metro – It looks beautiful. Who’d have thought there would be a stunning underground train system somewhere in the world?
My aim in Russia is to not get arrested. Getting arrested is bad. I did get a complementary ride in the back of a police car in San Francisco for trying to walk along the side of the freeway to get to the Golden Gate Bridge at about 10pm… that was funny though. And I spoke the language. One of the guys from work thinks I can try to pull off Russian by adding “ski” to the end of words, but I would rather have a little more to work with than mutated pigeon Russian… I am trying to learn the Russian alphabet because apparently being able to read the words will help me a lot, even if I don’t understand a lot of what it means.
One of the many things I want to do while in Budapest is go to a communal bath. I have heard some interesting rumours regarding the clandestine activities undertaken in certain baths, which I intend to avoid. My interest in the baths is purely from the perspective of one who loves hot water. And cold water. And really hot rooms. And beautiful architecture...Now, so that I don't get thoroughly freaked out by the communal bathing experience in a foreign country, I decided to have a go at this "experience" in Brisbane first. I went to a place in Woolloongabba called "Apollo's Day Spa" where I got a massage from a most peculiar lady, and was then given a towel, a smaller towel and a locker key and pointed in the direction of the female spa. Through the door there was a number of chairs in a suitably dimly lit waiting area. Walking past this deserted room I arrived in the change room. Basically this was a series of lockers, some benches and sinks. A normal change room. Being female I am used to, on occassion, seeing a bit of nipple in the change room. But I wasn't quite prepared for the absolute comfort with which the two ladies in the change room were stripping off whilst maintaining a conversation. I didn't quite know what to do when they started speaking to me. Needless to say my friends aren't really the wander around naked types. I decided to pretend I wasn't a complete innocent who had never been in a bath with numerous other naked women before, and got undressed in what I took to be a suitably nonchalant manner. I took my towel and attempted to cover my nudity before heading into the baths. I was instructed to shower by the numerous posters on the wall, so I did, pulling the shower curtain closed behind me. I then, most bravely I felt, hung up my towel in order to walk the two metres from the towel rack to the hot spa without the wonderful layer of material to hide behind. I hit the water and immediately slunk to the far side of the spa, as far away from the other women as possible. Under the water up to my neck with my legs curled in front of me. Very brave I am.The system of the spa was to go from the hot to the cold spa then into the sauna, then back to the cold spa and back to the hot spa - or whatever combination took your fancy. Once you had finished your journeys of temperature you had the option of using what I could only describe as a cleaning station. There is a small stool about ten inches high that you sit on. You're facing a mirror and there is one of those movable shower heads that you can pick up and wash wherever you please at any moment in time. One lady sat at this station for the better part of an hour, in that time she put on a face mask, exfoliated her entire body and attacked her feet with one of those pedicare sandpaper things. It seemed a bit strange to me the idea of sitting down and washing when you can just as easily stand and wash, but I suppose it is all about getting clean in a luxurious manner, and why stand when you can sit and take even longer?Ultimately, I enjoyed the whole experience and I think I will go again. I came out feeling ridiculously clean and refreshed, and it only took me an hour to get used to all the naked women.
I have created this blog so that I am able to write to my friends whilst I am away on my exciting, thrilling and generally travel-like adventures, and not send mass emails.
I make no claims to being a raconteur or that I am talented in the way of the anecdote. I will attempt to write with at least a modicum of grammatical correctness.
As of today, there are exactly 135 days until I leave. There are only 26 days until Kate (my sometimes travelling companion) leaves. There is 145% of the length of my trip to go until I leave for my trip. That is depressing, I want to go now!
For those who haven’t heard me rave about this journey over and over again here is my route:
Brisbane – Christchurch – Auckland – Toronto – Boston – New York – London – Travel to Scotland & Ireland – Dublin – Moscow – St. Petersburg – Helsinki – Tallinn – Riga – Vienna – Budapest – Prague – London – Singapore – Brisbane
Yay! The anticipation oozes.
