My car has a moon roof - I think it's called a moonroof cos there is no sun!

It's -14 today, down from a balmy -4 yesterday and I've taken to wearing thermal underwear under my sweaters (practice the lingo Hazel - Jersey is a place in NY, not a garment) as my office gets quite cold.
It's the last day at work(love those short weeks) and pretty much deserted. The car is holding up well though already has a scratch...Which we think happened when M took it to the supermarket to get a plunger for the garbage disposal...The scratch looks suspiciously trolley height - I shall have to remember who scratched MY car....Hopefully we'll pick up his today and I can scratch it in return :>)
The garbage disposal suffers from that well known kids disease 'I don't wanna eat my veges' and requires everything to be chopped up into little pieces, well I know this now after the unfortunate stirfry remains incident.
Well, better get cracking at work...think the document has finally loaded up for me. Have a wonderful warm Christmas where ever you are.

Walking in a winter freezerland

Today is a balmy -10 degrees, an improvement on yesterday when it was -16 when we first looked at the thermometer. I'm not sure I can cope with weather this cold, and it's only December. Apparently it gets much colder, but S says that after a while it all feels the same temp, and you don't notice the 5 to 10 +ve or -ve. I'll have to harden up a lot before then, and stop thinking about kiwi Christmas at the beach as well. The in-laws went to the Packers game on Sunday and that's in an outdoor stadium, they had ski suits on and were about 3 sizes larger due to excessive amount of Thermal layers...I'm surprised they could bend enough to get into the car. Gotta admire that for hardcore fanaticism, specially when the Packers lost...to a team from FLORIDA. Still only a light dusting of snow on Saturday though, just as everyone headed of to the hardware store.
We had the Weaver whanau down helping this weekend and they did a smashing job...Literally when B moved the wardrobe door into the light shade! We had a long list of tasks and they had accomplished 1/2 of them by Friday night. Finally got all the wedding presents into the house (they've been stored up in Merrill) and boxes moved to storage and the tree decorated (thanks J) and new doorhandles, wardrobe doors and they even put a new fan up in the lounge while we went out for work drinks at the bosses. Not sure we'll need the fan for a while, but it looks great. We've now booked them for 'electrical weekend' and 'plumbing weekend' in which the lighting gets changed and we put in new bathroom units. Think we might be doing some extended dog sitting in return.
Get to pick up my car tonight, looking forward to 2 bits of it the most. Heated seats and sat nav. In NZ, heated seats are what you get when you forget to put a towel on the vinyl seats of your old ford falcon after a day at the beach (ouch - just remembered how it hurt when you leap off the hot seat, and your skin stayed behind). Our rental at the moment take about 10 mins to warm up, by which time we're usually just getting to work, or I've frozen in the hunched shape of the seat. I shall probabley spend the first five minutes in the new car making embarrassingly orgasmic noises of pleasure as the seat heats around my back and bottom.
Satellite navigation will also be great as I'm still getting lost. This is someone who's driven in most European countries, sometimes in the dark and up (and almost off) steep hillsides looking for hotels, with completely unintelligible signs...Ross and I never did work out what 'farten' in Norway meant, but we still laughed everytime we saw it on a sign. Here it's flat and the roads are usually cross over in neat squares with some running north/south etc...and I still get lost getting from the house to the supermarket...all of 5 minutes away.
I worked out why the other day. I navigate by landmarks...'go down to the Shell station, turn right and then the supermarket is on the left after Target' etc. This worked fine in the UK with a pub on every corner and a roundabout on every other. You missed where you were going, just turn around at the next round about and come back. Everything looks the same here and there is an indentical Walgreens (pharmacy chain) on every corner (apparently this is actually their mission statement and they are pretty close to achieving it)...all the corners look the same, all the housing looks similar and I'm still concentrating on driving on the right side of the road. Bring on the sat nav now please...I'm hoping I can push a button and it will just get me there with no pain or detours...Funny how I hate M giving me directions inthe car but I'm happy for an anonymous voice to do the same at an extra $1,500...I wonder if you can chose the voice...I think I'd like Shawn Connery to be telling me' turn right at the next lights onto Cobbler lane'....now that would be good.

Interesting things I have noticed since moving to the US

• If it snows and then freezes and then you whack the snow off your car (to stop it falling into the boot on the groceries - tip 1) it also takes the dirt of and cleans the car...though this is negated by the runny brown slush that splashes when you drive through puddles
• we learnt fractions at school for a reason...you have to use them if you're stuck with imperial measurements, so you don't sound stupid in front of the carpet salesmen...duh-oh 12 inches and 14 sixteenth would be 12 and 7/8ths...I really miss metric!
• In the middle of the fruit section you can buy caramel dip for your apples...gotta be good for you cos it's in the fruit section right?
• you can buy postage stamps on the internet, and print out your shipping labels
• a 'red hot' is a hot dog as in 'Michaels Red Hots' is a hot dog shop, not a stripper joint named after my husband
• Drive through banking and pharmacies and drive up post boxes are a really really great idea when it starts to snow
• The bigger the car, the less need to use your indicators ( I think this might actually be an international fact)
• Most houses don't have overhead lighting, but do have overhead fans...must be good business for the lamp sellers
• Fanny Mae is a brand of chocolates...some with creamy centres ;>)
• All light bulbs are screw in (very sensible after having to buy both bayonet and screw in UK)
• The US is at least 2 generations behind in mobile technology and it's cool to wear your flip phone on your belt (In Russia its cool to wear it hanging down your front)
• Most people drink tea iced (if they drink tea at all) and don't put milk in it if it's hot
• Red sweets are usually cinnamon (bleeeeeeech -icky yucky-poo) and not raspberry or peppermint.
• Our office has a tiny inhouse StarBucks, Ramadan prayer room, and each meal on the lunch menu has calories and carbs listed (doesn't stop me eating chips...I think I might be pro-carbs)
• Everyone is real friendly and 1/20 will see through my 'English' accent and ask me if I'm from Australia!

On the train again...ah jest can't wait to get on that train again...

Day X plus 1 - Ulan Bataar to Chinese Border: expore the joys of stripmining, get to see wild camels, half a dog and the wheels come off the wagon.
It's a cold and frosty morning and after we've said goodbye to the boys (Goomba and Ita) we get onto the nice warm train. The carriage is much cleaner than the last one, but the decor is older than the Russian train and very floral. We tie the curtains back and use our patented cheese cooler (use the curtain tabs to hold the bag of cheese to the colder train wall!) spread our belongings around and we're off. Some of the faces in the first class carriage are starting to look very familiar. Mark and Julie finally board (we thought they were ahead of us and it turns out they slept through 2 wakeup calls and 1 alarm clock and only just made the train). They find out they are sharing a four berth carriage with a family of 3! General mayhem ensues but but no other option, they wedge themselves in for the ride.
Our first sight out of the station and 'ger-burbs is a man pooing in a field next to the rails...niiiice! I'm more amazed by the fact he's doing this over 2 inches of snow...not that it's in front of a 15 carriage train. It's the start of a day of peculiar sights.
We're retracing some of our steps through the national park, and this gives a perspective of just how vast the land is, and how small and lonely the settlements look at we trundle through. Even though we don't stop at most of them, each one has a railway guard waving a flag to let us through. People either go about their everyday business, hauling water, sweeping or tinkering with engines of some variety, usually the kids will wave back.
There are some good curves so you can really see the train and the first stop is a dusty station with pink and blue buildings and a silver painted statue of the cosmonaut.
The day becomes a constant drift of looking at the view, talking to our new train friends, reading and trying to spot wild camels...which we do, and they are wearing their special hairy winter coats.
We plan the toilet breaks carefully as at the end of the day we'll be going through the border. The usual amount of running around and hiding stuff takes effect and we stash the cash again.
The Mongolian guards are through fairly quickly and then we sit in no mans land, waiting to get though to the other side. Our german neighbours tell us the've used the half a puppy left on the rails as a cautionary tale to their 7 year old, who is prone to wandering off. We're all quite excited (well those of us with an inner rail geek) as they're going to be taking the wheels off on the Mongolian side and putting the smaller ones on for the Chinese side...You'd think it would be more sensible to have the same size...But I think this is one of those Russian/Chinese things that Mongolia got stuck with.
Customs on the Chinese side takes ages, everything is inspected, though they are not bothering so much with the foreigners, so we amuse ourselves by looking for guards with machine guns hiding in the bushes and the darkness (we spot 3) and trying to work out what they are signaling each out about (given what happens when they flash the lights I think the answer is 'time for a ciggie break')
Eventually we get through and after a bit of shunting we end up in the railway shed. It's all quite efficient and fast and similar to going to Jiffy Lube for a tire change. They put you on the lifters, unclip your underneath bits, raise you up, slide out all the wheels and slide in the new one. The funny part is the provinistia's putting on their grubby clothes and having to work with the rail guards to do the job. The more dainty (or lazy ones) obviously don't want to get their nails broken(despite the white gloves) so they flirt with the workshop guys to get more done. Lots more shunting later and the train is hooked back up with the Chinese dining car and we trundle through to the station...it's 1:00am and 3.5 hours later! There's lots of leg crossing going on at this stage and no-one is drinking anything.
We have about 15 minutes in the station then the sellers pack up and leave...but we don't move. Seems like something has broken down as guards and the fat conductor keep walking through the train. Another 1/2 hour and the provinesta takes pity on us and opens the toilet, at this point I don't care that I can see the station underneath. M has crashed out by now and I give up at 2:00 and go to bed...nice to be stationary in some ways, I wonder where we'll wake up in China.

made it to the US

In case you're wondering why it all stopped...just been a bit busy settling in. I'm back at work and will try and squeeze a little time out of the evening (when we're not doing car buying stuff or house settling stuff) to finish off...then let you know all the fun stuff I've learnt since I've been in the windy city...ps had snow, got rained away, might be getting some just before the movers turn up(hopefully on Saturday - keep your fingers crossed for now)...gotta run, my email at work should just about be firing up, I'm still connected to the UK server so it's sloooooooow!

Two Buddhist monks go round the outside, round the outside...

Lost track of the days (last day in UB): Ulaan Baator - see a large number of poorly stuffed animals, eat gourmet Mongol food and learn all about Mongolia's first (and possibly ast) cosmonaut.
Goomba, Ita, M and I set off after a smoky night in the Ger, and a bread and omelet breakfast. We've never figured out where the showers are, so decide the smoky smell of sleeping in the coal powered ger is probably a good thing. We take a slight detour to drive around the dead carcass of the horse Goomba and the other guide dragged over in the night to see if there are any wolf tracks but luckily there are only foxes. We're not sure what the the vegetarians in the other car (Mark and Julie will make of this) We go a different way out today, and it seems appropiate that our last sight of national park is the lone horseman trotting his shaggy beast across the plain, as his forbearers must have done for the last few centuries.
Today is the city tour, and once back in the hustle and honking of UB we stop first at the buddist temple, a cheerful multicoloured concoction of buildings in the snow on the hill. The temple was restored once communism was quietly done away with, and is now teaching and worshiping again. Scantily clad (for the cold) saffron monks are walking about, along with elderly tribesman from out of town. Everyone walks around and rotate the drums and kisses the building on the corners etc. We make do with admiring the buildings (they are pretty cool really) and trying to avoid the flock of pigeons that are annoyed we haven't brought them food...I hate the damn things...rats with wings.
The shrine at the back has the tallest Buddha in Asia, coated with gold and it's pretty awe inspiring...then it's back out into the cold and back to the car.
In the afternoon we visit the natural and the national museum...not easily confused as one holds a very old and moulting collection of stuffed animals and the other interesting tribal hats, modern history and lots of information about Chiggis Khan(you DON"T say Ghengis in Mongolia...or at least you only say it once before you are politely corrected), and his considerable efforts to rule China...all of which goes a long way towards explaining why the Mongols plumped for Russia over China when push came to shove.
We've run out of stuff to talk to Ita about and run out of historic places to see, so Ita drops us off at a cashmere shop (yes folks...some of you will be luck enough to get cashmere from Mongolia this Christmas) and trudge home, nostrils freezing in the cold to stock up on train food and do once more wash before our last day or so on the train.

I wonder what wolf really tastes like?

Day X - Terilj National Park: Go hunting for wolves, finally get to see inside a ger, eat frozen clotted cream and learn how to play Mongolian checkers.
It snows in the night and now UB looks clean and lovely...with the outline of factories belching smoke on the horizon somehow rendered more attractive. There are no such things as snow sweepers so various workers are out in the mornings sweeping and chipping the snow of the side of the kerbs to provide markers for the cars to see which lines to stay inside of, used as a loose guideline of course!
Ita and Gomba (the driver) pick us up in a Mitzi 4WD and take us off the the national park. We soon leave the traffic (and occasional car head first in a ditch) and head out through the 'ger burbs' The govt is trying to encourage people into town so you can move your ger in and put a fence around it, and there are lots of area's of this. Ger's are round almost flat roofed tents, on wooden frames, with thick felt and canvas covering them. Basically the height of people standing up, with a wood burning stove in the middle. There are usually animals tied up somewhere near,and as we passed in the morning, the kids were up on top sweeping the snow off, before it melted. The land is flat flat flat, with little vegetation, until we head into the hills and then it still doesn't really get that high. The paved road takes us past a river in the process of freezing, yaks, goats, cows and sturdy little horses. All around are 'Ger Camp's (summer camps) as every one leaves the town to live in the tents or small houses over summer. We embarrass ourselves by asking if the set of ornate temples is a Buddhist monastery to find out it's an elaborate themed Summer Camp. As it's winter very few are open and those that do cater for mad tourists, group bonding sessions or hunters. Mongolians love to hunt and one of their few entries into the Olympics was a highly places shooting team.
The ute leaves the road and heads out along the plain, winding over and round tracks, and there is no road in sight. I think the driver has done this many times before and just points the car towards the hills and drives around anything (rocks/people/houses) he can't be bothered driving over...It's very entertaining and quite bouncy, as by now we are heading up through the hills.
We stop at a prayer rock, made up of a mound of stones with any number of flags attached and they both walk around 3 times as a matter of course. I think the Mongolians have interrogated religion in a very practical way, perhaps to do with having been the second country to declare as Communist( we find out later that going with the Russians was more appealing than going with the Chinese). Gomba has been telling us about all the animals that are in the woods (anything that's not for hunting is either livestock or a plant!) and is interested to know if M is a hunter. M had to confess that he doesn't hunt, but his dad does, and quickly points out this includes ferocious Wisconsin deer...as duck seem a little tame next to hunting for fox, wolf and a wild mountain sheep/goat thing that costs US$10,000 to hunt. Gomba shows us his guns and loads up, apparently he got a wolf 3 days ago and is keen for another. Ita rides shotgun (literally) and we take off again to the camp, I'm concentrating on looking at the wonderful scenery (there's lots of eagles soaring in the sky) and trying not to think of loaded firearms in a bouncy car. All of a sudden Goomba sees a wolf and sure enough, there on the hill side is a lone wolf going from rock to rock. We screech to a halt and he gets out and starts blasting away. He's obviously a good shot as he only misses by about 6-8 m from 500m away in the valley. I'm secretly glad as i quite like wolves and went walking with them in the sanctuary in Reading...M's just glad we don't have a dead wolf draped on the luggage for the rest of the trip. We keep moving, keeping our eyes peeled but only see vultures and eagles (obviously not tasty enough), and make it through the isolated passes to the camp.
We go and say hello to the family and only the kids are home, get served bowls of yoghurt, something that resembles frozen clotted cream and cold donuts...Interesting food..not good for the no dairy or wheat regime but when in Rome...
the family Ger is like being on a long camping holiday, every thing seems to have it's place and we sit at on small stools at a little table, kind of like being at the kids table for Christmas dinner. They have a small shrine that includes a picture of the Dalai Lama. We eat our fill of the yoghurt etc but haven't mastered the art of licking the bowl clean as the driver does...our guide informs us that he hasn't either.
We get to our own ger, with cheery yellow and red curtains around the insides, and a lovely warm wood burning fire. This is attended to by a couple of girls who pop in at unexpected moments to put more wood on, cuts down on the snogging, and we work out a plan that involves getting up every two hours throughout the night to keep the wood on, only to discover they put great big lumps of coal in for the night...glad about that from the 'keeping warm' point of view, but will wake up smelling like a hangi, with a new rattle to the hacking cough I've developed especially to keep M awake.
We get to rest for a little then go for lunch. Mongolians eat 3 courses at lunch and two at dinner and they like to eat dinner early as they think that eating late is bad(v. true to) We get salad (potato with unidentified verges - but good), delicious mushroom soup that even M (A known mushroom hater) likes and delicious stew, very like a stronganoff, all under the watchful eyes of the most enormous stuffed and glaring mountain goat, mounted high on the wall of the dining room above us. This turns out to the be wild prized sheep that all hunters want to bag. It has curly horn and is easily the scariest looking beast I've seen.
We get to go trekking on small sturdy hairy horses in saddles like rocking chairs. Quite comforting to the non rider (me!) and I plan what to tell Carron in her postcard...me actually riding a horse. Still feels like a long way from the ground as the poor thing plods over the snowy hill, huffing and puffing as it drags my yoghurt filled carcass. I concentrate on admiring the view whilst hunching into the saddle as it's absolutely freezing, especially in the wind, easily the coldest we've been so far. I look at the scenery ( wonderful views over the valley), I tell myself how glad I am being in Mongolia, I pretend that I'm a trader going into the village BC (before car) and I console myself that M looks at least as cold and he's from Wisconsin. On the way home I'm so numb I can barely hold on, and I'm trying not to think about how many days until we're in Malaysia and focus on the stove in the Ger...feel the warmth. The horse picks up it's speed as it knows it's going home...it's barely moving in a fast walk, I fall on the saddle in a not very graceful dismount and head of the Ger and HEAT.

Managing Mongolia

I'm in China writing about Mongolia, hopefully I'll get caught up today...I can't read the blog (I think it might be trying to translate it into Chinese!) so if anyone put any responses, thanks heaps, hopefully I'll get to read them in Hong Kong tomorrow sometime.
Day X - Ulaan Baatar Recover from train in UB's poshest hotel, stroll the streets smiling at everyone cos they smile back, eat mutton dumplings, provide background noise for Mongolian National TV, and do the washing.
UB is a very small capital city and a very cold one, there is not much green around but the buildings are varied and many are brightly painted, the Mongolians love colour, especially on the children...to match their rosy cheeks (something to do with the cold I think). WE saw purple buildings, green buildings red buildings and lots of marble inbetween, not a great idea walking on marble steps when it gets icy.
We spread our stuff around the hotel room and sent the big stuff off the the laundry. Our room looks into town, and over the Mongolian Olympic offical building (apparently they're big at shooting...more about that later). We walked into town to the main square (Suhkbataar)over the bridge, about 15 minutes to get to the centre. The wind is freezing and the non goretex bits soon get a bit cold so we speed up. Everyone is a lot more smiley than Russia, and there is a real entreprenurial spirit to doing things, though a lot of things seems to be held together with string and good luck. People stand on street corners with wireless push button phones so others can dial home (for a fee)...we kept looking for the wire to see if they had just taken the phone out of the house. Traffic is of the 'more you hoot, the better you drive' variety and you take your life in your hands when you step out on the road. We fall back on our usual trick of 'drafting' the locals...hoping that the red jackets are seen as a warning, not a target.
Lots of older people still wear native dress, and in winter this consists of heavy padded coat with silk outer and a yellow/gold/orange sash tied low on the waist, and heavy leather boots with the toes pointing up. All quite sensible and warm. Everyone else favours the black leather or woolen coat look, and big hairy hats with dangling animals bits (tails or testicles usually) are almost as popular here as in Russia. Pointy highheeled boots again feature for the fasionable lady.
We look around the square and set off the find the english book store as I've almost run out. We end up in the old state store, now private, and stock up on a couple of christmas gifts (don't worry Mands, wouldn't dream of buying you a Christmas pressie from Mongolia), postcards and a old (about 30 years) appliqued hanging from inside a ger. M refuses to let me buy the one with authentic water stain(or maybe it's yoghurt) so I settle for the faded look. Those of you that visit, look out for it appearing in a Weaver room someday soon. We go down a floor and buy a lovely cashmere blanket at a price we keep pinching ourselves over and finally set off for lunch. Very unsuccessful at finding the reccomended resturant (if anyone can tell us where Be Pou is - we're still looking) we end up in something called 'Silk Road', surprisingly good and they start filming some business discussion at the table next to us. We end up having to slurp our coffee and remove ourselves and our crackly plastic bags very quietly, the waiter delighting in the comedy value of this...but hey - it's not often you can say you've almost been on Mongolian National TV.
We waddle home...freezing wind spuring us on...tears on the eyelashes freezing, and me trying to work out how to blow my nose without taking my gloves off!
Do some laundry and make use of the extensive radiator (just like being in England again) then catch up on BBC World, write some postcards. Tomorrow we're off the the ger!

Walking in the dark

Day 6 - Irktusk to Lake Baikal: get up at 5:00 to get off train, nice Alexander the driver takes us to Hotel Baikal at Lake Baikal, catch up on sleep in bed that's not moving(happy about that), walk to town, learn to walk home in dark coldness and eat pancakes.
It's -15 degrees when we get off the train and apparently unseasonably warm for this time of year...ouch - M says it's good practice for Chicago...I say I'm not sure I'm ready for Chicago...I want to go back to little old soggy England at this point. We take a long drive out to the lake through valleys of skinny feathery pines and snow, with little peeps of the lake along the way. The hotel is a scary concrete monolith from the soviet era perched on top of the cliff with wonderful views of the lake. I covet the 'retro' red and white plastic light fixture and red rotary phone.
Baikal is the oldest lake in the world(how can a lake be the oldest - answers from all the FESC's I know please) It's deep, it's freshwater and has lots of species that don't live anywhere else, including a freshwater seal, they call them Nerpa's. I'm still recovering from my cold and a poor nights sleep as the train was running late and seemed to be trying to make up time by cantering along the lines at a jolting pace. So much so that at one point we were both convinced our carriage had gone careering off on it's own.
The hotel is in it's out of season time and there are very few guests and the main restaurant is closed...so it's pancakes (and saveloys/hotdogs, eggs, a cheese like tofu and yoghurt for breakfast). We walk down to the town along the lake front, and the view is spectacular, it seems very big with lots of mountains surrounding it. The water hasn't frozen yet, though the guide tells us later that the water is so clear you can see beneath the ice. The houses along the water are either small cottages that the locals live in, that seem to be made up of any piece of wood around at the time, or log cabins with the corners chopped off. Despite the ramshackle appearance, I think they seem well cared for, something proven later when we get invited in. It's getting dark when we get to the fish market in the middle of Listvyanka (the main town on the lake where we are) but I get to taste smoked omul, which the the local delicacy, and a wonderful (hot) slightly salmony fish. I've only got tissues to wipe my hands so my gloves smell slightly fishy for a couple of days and dogs seem strangely attracted to me.
street lighting is a foreign concept so we make our way home in the dark up the icy hill to more pancakes for dinner.

• if you dip your hand in Lake Baikal waters you gain a year extra, 5 for a foot and 25 for your whole body...if you live through the cold that is!

Day 7 - Lake Baikal: see many dead fish, inside of a Siberian house and go on mammoth trek in wood. Eat more pancakes.
Liana meets us at 9 and takes us to the Baikal Natural museum which is actually quite interesting, and small so you're not overwhelmed. She whispers to us what each dead fish in a jar is as they don't like the private guards to speak too loudly. We learn about the deepness and the cleanness and get to see some cute sea lions in a very small tank. Apparently they've been rescued from an illegal hunter (he just wounded the mother, a good hunter would kill instantly!) and never lived outside. They're very fat cos its winter.
She walks down to Listvanka with us to meet the trekking guide and as her English is very good, we ask lots of annoying tourist type questions. She's just completed a 4 year child psychology degree but didn't like it so is now doing journalism for the next 3 years, whilst guiding is paying the way. Pizza is her favorite food and has become very popular in Siberia over the last 15 years. She has a fatalism I expected to see in Russian, ie 'we don't complain cos we don't expect any better' She doesn't remember much about being under communist rule (she's only 23) but her parents both work in a factory and I got the sense that it didn't affect them.
She takes us to the small orthodox church in Listvanka that has only recently been turned back into a church. It's interior is light and airy(quite unusual for a Russian church), with wonderful icons on every way. It's not much bigger than a meeting room(with high ceilings) but seems to rejoice in being allowed to be a church again.
We go to Rita's house and she makes us tea before we set out on the trek with Sacha. Very few houses (apart from the large ones being built as holiday homes) have indoor water and plumbing. They have microwaves and DVD player...but still use the outhouse/longdrop down the back of the garden. Water comes from the nearby well or sometimes the lake. I can imagine the arguments in our house if the water ran out...no you get it, no it's your turn, I can't be bothered..can we dial a drop?
We've asked the guide for a shorter walk (only 3 hours) as I'm still having problems with the cold and I'm not very fit. He agrees to take us in for an hour, hour for lunch, and then out again. We pick up his neighbor's dog (the adorable Mischa - bear in Russian) and walking sticks and set off. It soon appears that Sacha operates at Russian speed (about twice as fast - we get passed by old ladies up a hill later). He ends up waiting a lot, but is very patient about it. We start up hill and it's slightly warmer in the trees and the snows about 4 inches deep. I'm puffing and blowing like a steam train, with frequent nose wiping included, but it's beutiful in the trees. Sacha points out sable tracks and the hunter that is tracking it. We keep going over hill and dale, pausing on ridge lines to admire the view and stop me from going into cardiac arrest. After about 2 hours Sacha tells us he is going on ahead to light the fire for lunch and we can follow his tracks. He soon speeds of and we trudge uphill with cold wet boots. We jokingly come up with a plan if we get lost (IN THE SIBERIAN WOODS IN WINTER) which involves ring Intourist in the first instance and the UK police in the second...Luckily my girl guide skills M being the son of a hunter must have paid off as we soon spotted Mischa's dog pee in the snow and figured out we were still on the right track.
Sacha had a fire going (I think he regards his day job of teaching maths secondary to his outdoor skills) and made us soup of potato, onion and mackerel...very good when you're freezing your butt of in the Siberian forest. After lunch we heaved ourselves up to the top of the ridge and then began the long walk/slip/slide all the way home. Down hill was definitely better than uphill, though we could have done with a sled to go faster. Sacha kept going ahead then checking that we were still in sight and Mischa gave up entirely and went home, don't blame him, we definitely weren't fast. Eventually came out at the other side of Listvyanka and started the long walk home. Somehow the 3 hour walk turned into a 7 hour journey from the museum back to the hotel...and once again we were trudging home in the dark...and before you ask...not a taxi to be found.
More pancakes, a nicely frosted bottle of champagne and bit of repacking and we're ready for a 4am pick-up to get the train to Mongolia.

• UK's poor reputation for snow survival is mocked by Siberians...Liana asked 'Is is true that in Enlgand it stops when it snow'...to which we had to shamefacely reply 'YES'
• Thanks Pam and Nick for the possum fur knitted scarf you gave me for for christmas...its the best...and now Russian proof

ps - if anyone is reading this, can they pop a reply in, cos it gets awfully lonely on the road (even when travelling with your nearest and dearest) and now that's I've spent an hour writing this in Mongolia (I'll tell you about Mongolia when I get to China - promise) I'd like to know that at least one person was reading it.

"how do you say thank you in Russian again?"

Spa sea bar
We've made it as far as Ulan Bator and the trip has been pretty interesting so far. Although I could write for hours (when was the last time an Internet cafe charged $3.00 per hour) I'll give you a brief synopsis of the days and tell you about any interesting observations (well at least interestingly me) I've found along the the way.
Day 2 - Moscow to Nizhny Novgorod: Spend day schelping around Moscow avoiding the rain and furry hat sellers, then had last grand dinner (caviar...mmmnnnnnnn) and set off for train. Wait in one station and then tour guide takes us around the back to get on Train 2 - Moscow to Irkutsk. It's dark and cold and but we have a nice 'provanitska' (train attendant) and follow rule number one in our bible - the TranSib guide and tip her well.
The train is very new and clean, and by British standards...tall! There's not much room between the beds on either side (about a metre if that), but at least we're not sharing with anyone.
With a big clatter and sudden lurch we're off!
There is a Tyanet (vague attempt at spelling the Russian word for toilet) at each end...and after a few thwarted attempts, the kindly Russian lady at the cabin at the end points out that the red light goes on in the corridor when someone's in there or it's locked cos we're stopping at a station...duhhhhh -how many planes have you really been on Hazel!
The toilet is about as cold and smelly as you would imagine a railway toilet that does not have a holding tank to be...but at least the paper does not run out until day 4.

• The benefits of sitting on a toilet that is not moving are not to be disregarded lightly

Day 3 - Vyatka to Yekaterinburg: gaze at scenery, start eating contents of coolie bag, Hazel has a cold and the train is kept really hot, with no windows to open, M learns to point for food.
It's clear and bright and there is lots of snow around. People look cold when we pass them, and most favor the black coat and high furry hat look, quite sensible too.
We master the use of the water boiler down the end and get stuck into the soup. M makes several successful forays out onto the station and brings back salami (venison and almost as good as Paul's home made variety), diet coke, cough lozenges, cheese and a yummy bread. People sell very interesting stuff at the smaller stations, wizened little grandmothers with what looks like beetroot or cabbage in sourcream in little tubs, fish on a stick, newspapers and Russian romance novels. Each area we pass through seems to have a different specialty...we never did find the really great gingerbread we bought one one station...though we manfully sampled several other types of cake along the way.

• the window is the coldest place in the train and ties for the curtain make an excellent cheese holder
• fur is worn guilt free in Russia, and women have the amazing ability to walk on slippery ice with the skinniest stiletto boots

Day 4 - Tyumen to Bogotol: Hazel coughs a lot, M almost gets left behind, more soup gets eaten and we see some interesting factories.
Although I'm getting very used to lying around, eating, reading and gazing out the window inbetween coughing and blowing my nose, I make the effort to go out onto one of the stations to purchase some provisions, including orange to drink with our vodka (not quite up to the neat stuff yet). I manage to bring back two lots of yoghurt instead(well it did have fruit on the front and come in a carton), but rather than make a new and possibly quite interesting cocktail, we eat it as desert..though meal separation has become somewhat neglected in favor of grazing anytime we're bored. M discovers a new breakfast alternative and eats large plain cookies covered with peanut butter, whilst I plump for the ever popular marmite and cheese.
The countryside has hills and water and trees and we're still laughing at the fact that it looks like Wisconsin woods, given that we've spent all this money and time to get here...I think this could be more of a novelty to me than M. The silver birch and pine seem especially gloomy in the twilight, but we haven't gone through as much forest as flat plains and small hills, with lots of clumps of Dacha everywhere. Sergei (the Moscow guide) explained that this is what every Russian wants, a small place (and some of them are very small - no bigger than garden sheds) with a patch of land for gardening around. They are not quite allotments as the garden only forms part of the land, more like the back garden to a house...with the front being an apartment somewhere else in another town or city. Not very many are in use, as you can't do much digging this time of year, but they must be nice little communities, with the dacha being passed down between family member. They seem quite lonely, here next to the tracks waiting for spring.

• climbing UNDER a stationary train to get to the platform to sell stuff is quite safe as long as you are over 60 and short, it's just a little scary to watch
• never say the words chicken and soup too far apart in a sentence or you'll end up with the soup and the roast chicken...both very tasty, but not conducive to fitting back through the skinny doors between the carriages on the walk back to the cabin.

Day 5 - aching 1 to Irkutsk: cold reduced to coughing and less frequent nose blowing, Siberia gets progressively cold and more beautiful, M beats Hazel at scrabble again and we prepare to leave the train.
The towns have been less frequent and the tiny villages more so, with the odd huge messy city (Omsk etc), full of looming factories (well the train was never going to go thorough the nice part of town was it!) and peeling apartment blocks. There are less old ladies and a few more Mongolian and Chinese (I can just about tell the difference) selling things on the platform. Most stuff is sold out of little stores and Coke fridges (I bet Coke doesn't know their brand covers smoked fish and cigarettes - yes folks, I think you keep the cigarettes warm in fridges in Siberia). We're glad to be getting off the train and dying to stretch our legs.

• remember when you learnt to use the abacus as school? some of the storekeepers still use an abacus to work out the total, then type it into a calculator for us to understand. There's something ironic about someone using an abacus to calcuate something for someone with a wireless PDA in his pocket....more so when you consider the blackberry doesn't get a signal to transmit!

1st day in Russia

Completely knackered when we boarded aeroflots hard leather seats. Possibly even more knackered when we got to the other end an hour early due to daylight saving. No pickup but managed to rustle up intourist agent and get the first of many scary cabs for the day. Makes driving in india seem safe. hotel is very grand in a used way. Breakfast room has 3 gaudy chandeliers and a large assortment of food ranging from cucumber to saveloys for breakfast. M has a meringue cake as well, most unlike him. We go back to our single beds (not our choice but we're too tired to care).

Did the intourist tour with sergei and now know the history of every “yellowish building to the left” as every building seems to have a historic past...though they could be making it up and we'd never know.Got the giude to tell us a good place for dinner and thawed out over mulled wine. M had 'tabbacco chicken' which looked like road kill flattened out on his plate, but tasted like peking duck. He could hardly cut into it but had backup dumplings to fill him up. Did the usual trick of getting posh hotel to get taxi back to ours as everyone has been warning us not to use the private cabs and we really do look like tourists. Maybe we should buy and light some ciggies to walk around with, to blend in.

Now hanging in the lobby bar having a 'gasser' local beer...any lighter and it could be called 'bud' (sorry americans) watching a couple of hookers waiting for the lift (it is a safe hotel really) as my mum would say, they'll catch they're death of cold dressed like that. The other interesting sight today is watching a well dressed woman at the airport put out her cigarette by spitting onto a piece of paper, stubbing it out in the spittle before folding it all up and carefully putting the whole lot in her pocket!

last day

Up at 5:00 to get the cleaning finished
last day at work
feels like another day with huge amount to do..feeling very guilty about all the things I haven't done, trying not to get upset about it
Reuters team and Katie gave me a nice bottle of champagne to say thank you, very thoughtful...couple of other people popped by to wish me well
Think M got a bit of a leaving do..nice they think so much of him
no time left, have to get back to work
later gator

Almost there...We've made it to Thursday

The movers have taken everything off in a giant orange 40ft container. Too late now to worry if we've packed anything we might need for the next 6 weeks.
Onto the cleaning, and finger crossing to get the bond back.
Not much time today to post as I got to work late due to the large amount of things that had to be done this morning...you know you''ve got too much in your suitcase when you have to sit on it to close it.
The nice Kiwi bloke I spoke to on the phone today (just remembered to cancel the car insurance!) asked for my favorite travel tips, so I thought I would post them today for you all:

1. http://www.priceline.com/ is the site to bid for hotel room, try being as cheeky as you can (we stayed in a 4 star in Zurich for £40 for 2 per night)
2. http://www.smoothhound.co.uk is the best site I've found for B&B's in the UK and sometimes overseas...huge variety and price
3. http://www.highways.gov.uk/trafficinfo/ if you're planning on traveling anywhere in the UK and don't know what the traffic is like...useful for bank holidays and trying to get to the airport or ferry on time!. Check if your mobile phone provider offers a road news service or tune into 1152am (traffic updates every 10 minutes in the morning that will help you on that hell trip around the M25)...so NOT going to miss the words 'experiencing severe delays on the Heathrow stretch...'
4. http://www.regentpalacehotel.co.uk/ for a cheapo hotel (for London) if you want to have the night out and don't want to train home (or have lots of whanau wanting to visit) - it's not flash (I think they hide their two stars under a pile of laundry) but it's handy
5. Go to Germany/France/Switzerland etc in winter as they have cool Christmas markets, and the Gluwien helps keep the cold away
6. If you're flying sleazy jet or lyin air (easy or ryan), booking cars through the site usually works out the best price but plan for one person picking up the bags and the other nipping through to get to the front of the queue, particularly in teeny-tiny airports to some obscure place, where the whole flight needs a hire car. ALWAYS ask where the nearest fill up petrol station is on the map, AND if they are open on Sunday (can you tell we've been caught out and had to pay exorbitant petrol fees!)
7. Look for a European hotel through easyjet(they're not bad) then look for the hotel itself online and see if you can book direct, it's sometimes cheaper, so is ringing them (but get a fax confirmation)
8. Any food product with a reindeer picture in Scandanavia is not showing their national symbol (like a kiwi or bulldog)...you really are eating Rudolf made into salami...but it's quite tasty!

4 days to go

The house is a halfpacked bombsite..the NTL people have not turned up to pick up the cable boxes and we're knackered - not bad for a Tuesday!. I think we've spent about 4 hours on hold to NTL so far. They were supposed to pick it up yesterday morning at 8 and when I finally go through to someone they suggested a new appointment next week...um NO...we'll be in Russia...well how about leaving it with a neighbour...um NO, we wouldn't dream of asking them to stay around waiting for your guys to NOT turn up, and besides most of them work...so how about sending it to us...let me think about that for a moment...two heavy cable boxes and wires to that we pay to post to Scotland...um NO WAY. They can't tell us a depot to drop them off at and they can't tell us when someone can come and they don't seem keen on us leaving them outside the front door in a plastic bag...today it's M's day to call them, just checked with him and he says the supervisor is going to ring him back. He told them that if she didn't by 5pm that he would ring the president of the company. Hokey dokey...you'll have to wait for tomorrow for the next exciting installment of the NTL saga.
Need a mental break from looking at the spreadsheet I'm working on so went to look at the hotel we're staying in Moscow for 2 days...holy cow, I think the words 'it looks like a wedding cake' spring to mind.
Tommorow I'm sending this link out to all with our new address...hope no one gives me too much of a hard time!

The Weavers are leaver - part 1...el tapas

ohhhhhhh...the hangovers are finally wearing off...we had the bestest leaving do, in conjuction with Gills birthday. Managed to scrape together 17 of our nearest and dearest living in the UK (would say British but the Welsh, Irish and Shi Lanka contingent will be offended)and trundled off to our favorite tapas bar Los Hermanos in Sutton. What better way to say farewell to old blighty by drinking sangria and singing Delilah with the entire restaurant...all together now...WHY WHY WHY DELIAH LAH LAH LAH MY MY MY DELILAH... Those that had never been before thought we were joking about the singing bit, but we've always had a fab time and weren't disappointed. There was dancing, there was singing, there were flaming B52s (and I SWORE I was never going to drink on of those foul concoctions after last time) and the old classic 'oops upside your face' which somehow involves everyone sitting on the floor pretending to row.
I think I remember doing my version of salsa with one of the chefs when I went to pay the bill and eventually they kicked us out at 1:00. Staggered off home propping my drunken sot of a husband (it doesn't happen very often but it's awfully funny when it does!) and remebered to take on an alka seltzer and take of my earrings, so must have had some command of faculties after all.
M was so hangover the next morning he let Dylan (V's monster cat) lick his face..I swear that cat thinks its a dog somedays...lots of water and a greenfaced drive home, then it's back to the packing.

Finally ready for the packers at about 11:30 last night (NEVER try inventoring your household contents late at night on a hangover...how much is a drawer of sleepwear really worth!)I know I've moved 22 times in the last 18 years, but I think from this day forth the only packers I ever want to hear about are the sort that run around in a stadium in Greenbay

so five sleeps left to go...we move into the motel tonight...just spoken to M (he's on 'packer shift' today and there are four of them in the house.

Geoff and Amy get hitched

Thursday Midnight
Get through new fingerprint and eyeball camera shot stuff at airport, find shuttle to car rental, breathe in warm air and smile about leaving cold England.
Fire up in car mobile phone sat navigation system and gasp at paying $3.00 toll to LEAVE airport...This must be how they are still paying for the 'Big Dig'.
Get hopelessly lost at roadworks following sat nav instructions and having to press reroute button, yell at each other (cos that always make things better - yeah - right!), turn off sat nav, pull out paper instructions and get there in 10 minutes. M collapses into bed and I pull out lap-top to finish ghastly uncompleted work. Pad downstairs to fax stuff to UK at 4:00am and make friends with night manager whilst waiting. Crawl into bed too wired to fall asleep easily.
Friday
Lovely sunny day (27 degrees) and Boston is having autumn while UK missed it entirely. Go to cafe for breakfast (spinach/mushroom/feta omelette - definitely not the full English), wander into town after checking with stressed bridal party for tonight's arrangements and spend morning puttering around Quincy Square and Fanueil hall behaving like tourists (well we are!)

M has to buy shorts and polo shirt it's so hot..Soak up the sun and head to the Prudential Tower to look at the view...360 degrees of Boston and very entertaining audio tour, favorite part being the tidal wave of treacle that killed 13 people (you'd think they'd be able to get away from a wave of TREACLE)
Catch Ross about to quality assess 'house of cheesecake' product though he denies this and says he's only buying a coffee to get a seat whilst waiting for us.
Go home, nap and watch TV marveling at advertising standards...You can actually advertise a drug by slagging off what a similar drug can't do!
Catch up with Sara, meet new in-laws and reassure stressed bridal couple that everything will be alright on the day...Feel small amount of satisfaction that stress is not own from own wedding.
Out to dinner at nice Italian restaurant in the middle of renovation with very not-so-calm bridegroom, ply him with wine and all head home under strict instructions not to be late. Remind brother to iron his new shirt or be disowned.
Saturday
Go to scary old lady hair salon in basement of hotel, get crispy curls put in, learn Massachusetts is home of Dunkin Donuts when making suggestion that Krispy Kreme were the best donuts in the world when Husband comes by to flaunt breakfast in face before proceeding to room. Smile nicely when older salon owner suggests that I get a 'set' next time as the curls will last longer, whilst thinking how much i will miss my glamorous UK hairdresser.
Scare husband with large hair, gulp down donuts and go off to do The Duck (amphibious vehicle) tour of Boston. Can highly recommend this, very entertaining, fun to be out on the water and even more fun making 'quack quack' noises to every small child who quacks at us. Even more fun making 'silent quacking' sounds with hands in the posh neighborhoods.
Scary curls have settled down now thanks to surprisingly fast amphibious vehicle, get glammed up and attempt to use sat nav to ceremony (it works this time)
The ceremony
Amy has just sent a link with some photo's from the wedding
pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/pluton74/album?.dir=/8872&.src=ph&.tok=phxOA5BBMdElIbDc
She had quite an unusual dress in that it was quite classical and she looked very cute in it. it had 3 diamond shaped cutouts in a vertical row down the back, with a bow joining each one together. Sara stepped down a step funny an hour before the ceremony and twisted her ankle, but 2 ibuprofen, an ice pack and an elastic bandage later she managed to carefully walk up the aisle, slip her shoes off under her long dress (thank goodness) and discretely walk back down the aisle with bare feet...no one noticed as everyone was looking at Amy and Geoff, until we had to retrieve her shoes and prop her foot up.
It was a very informal and personal wedding and very suited to both of them. I read out a message from Yvonne and Allen (Geoff's mum and dad), and phoned them after the ceremony to let them know their baby boy was married.
The reserve was lovely and the house very grand, but in need of a family to love it, I think it's now just used as a meeting space etc. We then drove back to the hotel (Geoff and Amy wanted us to bring back some stuff from the ceremony), had a wee bit of a nap and then went to the Chinese restaurant for dinner. Amy changed into this beautiful pink/gold brocade gown made from fabric that had belonged to her grandmother...a real mix of cultures as we were all going'''ohhhh, that's a lovely idea', and to the Chinese, to use something old like that is a sign of being poor!, She wanted to wear something of her grandmothers, so i think her western side won out.
We managed to be at the vegetarian table, which meant some interesting things to eat, they even had one dish where the noodles were tied into knots like skeins of wool, no idea how they did that. Had some wonderful dishes though, got to see the tea ceremony where the bride and groom serve tea to all the older relatives and they give gifts of money, and listen to Geoff give a speech in cantonese...having been coached by his father in law. There were some strange expressions on the Chinese people when he said the words, so hopefully he didn't call his mother-in-law a fat red horse or anything.
We all went to a club for dancing afterwards (and a much needed cocktail) and crawled home at 1:30...ready to get up to take Sarah to the airport at 5:30...Sunday seemed like a very long day after that (had brunch with Geoff and Amy, Ross and Geoff's friend Greg from NZ) and I think I was still tired when we crawled off the plane at 6:00am.

Blackberries from Kiev

M's postings from Kiev.
My first day in the Ukraine went pretty well. I landed at the airport and was met with lots of red tape trying to get through immigration--it took about an hour to go through two checks.
I was met at the airport by my driver who was there to take me to the hotel. His name is Yevganey and he is a former officer in the Russian Army. He left the Army because they were not getting paid regularly and it was low paying to begin with now. He now drives tourists around for a living. He likes the freedom they now have in the Ukraine since 1991 but I think he misses the old days when life was a bit easier. Today there are either very rich people or poor people without really much of a middle class.
My hotel is an ancient Soviet relic called Hotel Tourist. The room is remodeled so it is fine, but the elevator is ancient and I am up on the 20th floor. There is also a female attendant on each floor who holds the keys when you are away and keeps the floor tidy. She has a little desk rigjht by the elevator--must be a carryover job from Soviet times!
This afternoon the driver came back with a tour guide and I had a three hour tour of the city by car. There are lots of typical Soviet highrise apartments everywhere that are really ugly and crumbling, but there are also lots of beautiful Greek Orthodox churches and wonderfuly larger than life monuments to Russian/Ukranian friendship and to the Ukrainian independence.
The tour guides name is Yelena and she ia a former English teacher. She became a full-time guide about 20 years ago and got to travel all around the world as a translator for Soviet officials.
Tonight I took the subway (10 cents eac way) into the city center and had dinner at a Cossack themed restaurant. They were dressed in fancy costumes and had a little band singing and playing traditional folk songs. It was a little cheesy but still fun. I had Borscht (beet soup) and Chicken Kiev. For desert I had dumplings stuffed with cherries. All was very good.
When I got back to the hotel tonight I got the key for my room and started getting ready for bed. Then the phone rang and a woman with a thick English accent asked if I wanted a beautiful sex massage! I said nyet! (M did tell me this...)
Tomorrow I'm off with the driver and guide at 8am to try to find the town where Grandma was born. Its not called Heimthal anymore so we are having a little difficulty finding it but I think we will manage.

Day 2
I had a really successful day today. I found the village where Grandma was born! I wasn't too confident in the morning when we left the hotel at 8am. We were guessing on the area and spelling of the town. The driver had a map from the Internet that listed the town names in German before the first world war. We fouind a name that we thought was correct and headed off.
About two and a half hours into the journey I looked at the map and saw 'Heimtal' in a slightly different area on the map so we stopped the car and tried to pinpoint that on today's road map.
We headed off the main highway first on to a bumpy asphalt road which then turned into a gravel road and then in to a dirt road. We passed cows and geese in front of farm houses and also passed lots of people on horse and buggy. It was like stepping back in time.
Finally after having to stop several time to ask locals for directions, we turned on to a paved road and saw the sign marking 'Yasynivka' which is the current name of the town in the Roman alphabet. It looks very different in the Cyrilic alphabet!
The village had about 20 houses. Most seemed to have small plots of land behind them where people grow crops and raise animals. We stopped and the driver got out and spoke to one of the villagers for a while. He confirmed that the town was definitely called Heimtal previously. He told us about an old seminary down the road and also about another family down the road that might have more information.
We went and saw the ruins of the old Lutheran school and seminary. I took a few pictures.
Next we went to speak with the family that the villager had mentioned. We got very lucky! The man and his wife in their early 40's invited us into his house where he pulled out a newspaper article from 2002 that talked about the history of the town and how it had three different names over time. My guide translated the article which was in Ukranian. It confirmed what Grandma had told us.
In the late 1800's, Catherine the Great had given plots of land to Germans free of charge and without taxes for 50 years as she wanted more of her own to settle there in the Russian empire as she was German by birth. Later sometime around 1915 (can't remember the exact date), Tsar Nicholas II decided he didn't want the Germans there any more, so he plunderd the area, killed many, and exiled many more to Siberia. Then in 1917, Tsar Nicholas was overthrown and people were allowed to return home and Ukraine was a free country for almost a year with its own president until the Bolshevic revolution in 1918.
The dates really seemed to match up with Grandma's experience and it also helps to explain why Germans were in the Ukraine and why they got shipped to Siberia.
I took a photograph of the article. I don't think there was a photocopier anywhere nearby!
We then drove back to Kiev amd stopped at a roadside restaurant on the way back. I had a nice soup and some really good potato pancakes. The food was good and cost a total of $7 for soup, salad, a main course, and a glass of wine for two people! The only downside was they didn't have a restroom, only an outhouse with a hole in the floor out back! It was a little scarey!
We got back to the hotel at 6pm. It was a long day of lots of driving, but was well worth it! I was so glad that we actually found the village.
Tomorrow is sightseeing and shopping in Kiev.

Day 4 (not sure what happened to day 3)
My last morning in the Kiev was fairly uneventful. I took the subway into the city centre again to look for some souvenirs. I went to the State Department store which had lots of everyday items, but still looked like what you would expect of a communist era department store--dark and outdated looking inside with old creaky escalators. For some reason only the up escalators were working. The down escalators were blocked off and there were ladies sitting on chairs in front of the down escalators on each floor to make sure that no one went down them. Very strange. I couldn't find anything interesting there to buy so I went back to one of the churches I visited on Sunday and found a small watercolour print and some Ukrainian painted eggs. That was pretty much the extent of my shopping--not too much to buy there.
My trip home was a bit of a nightmare. I didn't think I was going to get out of the country! I arrived at the airport 2 hours ahead of my flight. There was an unruly queue at the main door to the airport. Everyone going in to the airport itself had to go through and metal detector and have their bags x-rayed. Inside the airport, it was chaos. I found a lane that I needed to be in for the 'nothing to declare' group. The line didn't move for 1/2 hour as the single customs official scrutinised documents, let others go through freely, and then walked away from the desk when he felt like it. Added to that there were four lines of people trying to merge into this one official. It was really like what you would expect in a third-world African country. It took over an hour to get through that line. Then I got in another to have my luggage x-rayed again before I went to the check-in counter. When I finally got to the check-in counter the queue there was at a standstill. I finally found out that their computers had crashed and they couldn't check anyone in. After waiting another 1/2 hour, they finally started to manually check people in with paper boarding passes and handwritten luggage tags--I wasn't too sure my luggage would make it. Next was another metal detector and x-ray of hand luggage. When I made it upstairs to the gates, they were just starting to board my plane! The plane ride home was uneventful and I was thankful to be back on British soil!
Overall, I was really thrilled that I could find where Grandma was born. That was definitely the highlight of the trip. Kiev itself is a beautiful city with lots of lovely churches to see. But, the constant fear of petty crime, the senseless bureaucracy, and the seemingly corrupt police/officials made it one of the more difficult places that I have ever visited. The Ukraine has quite a ways to go before being a hospitable tourist destination.

Chock full of pilgrims

This weekend I went to Santiago de Compostela in the northern part of Spain. I've always wanted to go there ever since I found out about it, but have never really been sure why. It's hard to get to there cheaply and doesn't fit into the 'go on Friday night and back on Sunday' thing so I've never managed until now. Since this is the last weekend free to go to Europe before the big trip , Santiago had to be the place to go. M went of to Kiev to find his grandmothers town (and did) and I took the plane to Valladolid, intending to drive to Santiago. 2 mistakes, one was hiring the underpowered car for a long road trip (apologies to anyone out there that owns a Hyundai Getz) and secondly believing the website that it was only 300kms or so (or maybe it was miles). Pretty cool scenery and you traveled over this huge highway no one else uses complete with 500m plus high viaduct, but still a 6.5 hour trip to get there. Didn't manage to find the hotel easily from the map (turns out to be much further out of town) and was compounded by the owner only speaking Spanish, German, Italian and Portuguese...but no Inglese. My pidgin Italian wasn't quite up to it...where was my German speaking husband when i needed him...in blimin Poland. Resorted to handing the phone to the car park attendant to ask and then point it out on the map. Still couldn't find it so plan B consisted of driving to the airport, parking the car and getting a cab to the hotel (15 euros and 5 minutes later...Much gnashing of teeth and wishing that I had thought of it sooner!) the upside of it was it only cost 6.50 euros to park in the carpark overnight. Those of you who've parked in Heathrow/Gatwick/Auckland airports will appreciate this, as you can probabley by a used car in Spain for what it costs to park in those airports)
The hotel room was small and next to a busy road but I had my handy 'might have to share a room with my brother the snoring walrus' emergency earplugs so slept like a log.
Santiago is the ultimate destination for hardcore pilgrims who start 900kms away in France and others who start a few days or weeks away. You see them on the side of the road walking the trail...mostly barely talking to each other by the time they make it to Santiago. Apparently the long one takes about 3 months and you can tell who they were from the well tanned, socks and jandals look, whereas the part timers all had plasters and more baggage. The final destination is the catherdral, a gloriously gothic golden stone jobbie, with enormous front doors up the winding steps in front of a large square. I made it to pilgrims mass at 12:00 on Saturday and crammed in with the others to watch the 'handlers' organizing the special ones (not sure if they'd paid more or what) who got to confess to the priests. It was mostly a sung mass and quite wonderful to hear everyone responding when required. During the service there was some kind of disturbance at back of our crowd of people with the security guards dragging a couple away...Possibly for videotaping. The Spanish don't say shhhhh by the way, they say zzzzzzzh. There were lots of zzzzzzzh's when this happened. It was a sung mass so I subsituted the Lords prayer and sang along once I'd learnt the words in all the repeating bits. A nice combination of the practical and the spiritual...it's great to be an a working catherdral, one that's not just for show.
Had a wonderful lunch in the cafe attached to the oldest hotel in Europe (so the guidebook tells me) and was pretty impressed that most of what I thought I was ordering turned up. Watched yet another procession completed with dead saint under a canopy and men dressed as Joseph turn up...The entrance into the catherdral was marked by everyone throwing loud firecrackers that sounded like gunshots...Somewhat unexpected to everyone in the cafe, and somewhat frightening with Beslan so fresh in everyone's minds.
Spent the day walking around the old town...Peering in old doorways, admiring the large cooked squid and other assorted animals for eating displayed in the windows, and trying on jet jewelry...This part of Spain being home to well displayed meat cuts and jet production.
Ended up having a wee sun bathe in the park (after texting my nearest and dearest in the UK to skit how warm it was) and picked up some food to have a picnic on the way home.
Up early and did the long trek back without getting lost more than twice (always did find roundabouts tricky), the usual scramble to find a petrol station to refuel the car and a lesisurely (if cramped and noisy) flight home.
Glad I went as it's a very peaceful and 'Spanish' part of Spain, with a strong sense of it's own identity away from the influence of Madrid and Barcelona.
Must put up M's posts of his journey in Kiev

The great car boot sale

Ruthlessly went through all the possessions in the attic and managed to get them all stuffed into the car. At this point a word of thanks to the memory of my parents - who were great propronents of 'packing the car correctly' ie treating it like a 3d jigsaw to see just how much stuff can be packed in. You know how it goes, if we turn this up this way and wedge this thing in here then that can fit in here and everything else has to be carried in your lap...I like to think they were subsituting possessions for airbags in the pre-airbag days...But I suspect that we just traveled with a lot of STUFF.
So anyway we found a car boot sale http://www.u-boot.co.uk/index.htm loaded the car and left the house at 5:30ish, psyched to off load the goodies and make loads of dosh...The first one being the most important.
It was dark, it was cold and a bit damp and at 6:15 we were about car number 10 in a large field. Being newbies (but faking hard) we looked for a likely spot, got the pasting tables out and proceeded flog the stuff to anyone that would have it. The usual vultures (read dealers) converged and the first one asked if we had old military weapons...I think both of us laughed..Any two people less likely to have old military weapons I can't think of! The junk came out, the prices were low and we were not afraid to harangue passerbys to stop and look. Feeling no shame I even had M yelling 'It's all gotta go, we're moving to America, it;s not coming with us'...People buy the strangest things at car boot sales...Like the silk flowers but not the vase, and 24 business class airline kits...Still, £143 pounds richer we went home for a nap, with only 6 things and a few leftover books for the recyling.
Still more in the loft though....Might have to have another.

Wot a lot of STUFF

The moving lady came today to review how much possessions we have and what size container (VERY BIG) would be needed for it. She was dainty and demure and really knew her stuff. Not a bad skill being able to look around the house and estimate what size container it would fit in...Wonder if she does that when she's visiting friends?
She even climbed up the ladder wearing high heels and a tight skirt...Not a skill all women have, myself included.
We have LOTS of stuff from both our houses now crammed into one, so its up into the loft and off to the car boot sale this weekend, since they don't do garage sales here.
Having someone come and pack stuff to move will be a rare treat for me since I've worked out I've moved 22 times for myself since the age of 18, not counting anyone else I've moved (like the time Ross said he was moving to a flat up some stairs and forgot to add the words '3 flights')

it's a family thing

a wonderful thing has just happened. My cousin Wendy from my dad's side has just contacted me. I've not had much to do with them as they were older than us, and lost touch over the years. My other cousin Susan saw our wedding website and passed it onto her. How cool..family is cooler as you get older. I've been quite envious of the relationship M has with his cousin so maybe I can mend some fences and have a wee bit more of that myself.
My left cubicle buddy has a bad cold but has noblely decided to spare showing me the yello phlegmn..and I'm grateful for that two...two good things today...oh and I just got tickets for the NZ/Aus ICC champions trophy match next thursday...keeeeeeeweeeeeeeee...sun, cricket, a day off and the possibility of whupping Aussie ass is a pretty good day out...

Sunday blessings

Summer seems to have stuck in old blighty for once...We've had at least 4 hot days in a row and I think this might constitute summer this year.. The weather gauge says 30 outside and we are inside cleaning damnit..tidying rather than cleaning, neither of us have been home much to be messy...Just seem to be bits everywhere, mostly mine for some reason, remind me why I married 'Tidy Man' again. Ran out the door to the photo shoot (oh lookitme...how glam) and the clothes didn't seem to make it up the stair...not helped by the Everest of ironing piles to tackle. Where is a Sherpa to do all the hard work so I can swan in and iron the last t-shirt..and I don't even iron M's stuff - poor sod! I'm pretty sure technically it's too hot and the last time I ironed in my bikini I still have the hotizontal line where I got too carried away, backed off very quickly though. I wonder if I could say ironing is hardardous to my health???
The new gardeners have mowed the lavender down outside the front doors so rather than smell of a tiny bit of France it looks a bit stark and bare. I managed to rescue a bit so its in the back of my car...looks pretty but I think it's supposed to put you to sleep so might not be the best thing for driving to work on Monday morning!
Better get back to the drudgery...need to work up enough energy to justify a siesta...Adios

kiwius

kiwius wonder how this works

and then

I've just discovered that getting visa's is 10% of our total cost...blimey

in the beginning...

I'm just about to embark on another really big adventure...moving to the states from the UK via a wee side trip to Russia/Mongolia/China/Malaysia...this seems like a really good way to let everyone keep in touch. If I can figure how to get some pics up you won't have to look at them all later...