Goodbye, Moscow, Goodbye

I got off to a late start this morning. I caught up on a few things, then heated up some Thai curry and rice for an early lunch. I left the house near noon and walked to the post office to mail some postcards.

I took the metro to Sportivnaya and disembarked. I followed the crowd south and then turned west, walking along a busy thoroughfare until I reached the Novodevichy cemetery. A guard at the gate asked me if I wanted a map. I asked if they had any. "Only Russian," he said and laughed. I smiled.

I spent some time wandering the grounds aimlessly. I found Boris Yeltsen's resting place, thanks to the description Teresa gave me: a billowing flag. I exited the cemetery and walked around the complex to the front of the convent. I walked through the gate into the pleasant grounds. A sign on the ticket counter indicated that the main cathedral was closed, so I occupied myself just touring the compound. The buildings were magnificent, the gold domes glinted in the sun. Here and there students with sketchbooks captured the scene in pencils and watercolors.

Leaving the convent, I walked to the other side of a reflecting pond for the view, and then walked along the Moscow River in the direction of home. The traffic noise got to me after a while and I turned up the first street back into the city. I wandered in the direction of home, choosing the roads that seemed most interesting from each intersection. I passed a building in which UK visa applications could be submitted, and past gated compounds with suited guards.

At the elegantly modern Cafe Modus, I inquired about the menu. The maitre d' told me it was in Russian, but he could translate. He said there was a set menu for lunch, including bufala mozerella on tomatoes drizzled with olive oil, bean salad, and duck breast with wild rice, for 540 roubles. I had thought about eating at Moo Moo for a Russian experience, but then decided to stay. It would be the last opportunity to eat at a nice restaurant for at least a few days.

After I sat down, the maitre d' asked if I wanted anything to drink. I asked for water with gas. He checked the menu and told me it would be 240 roubles. I said it was fine and he disappeared to tell the waitress. He soon returned and asked where I was from. I told him New York and he asked which part. I told him and asked if he had been. He had. His father had had a contract with the UN and they spent 8 years in the city. They returned to Moscow when the contract expired. The waitress appeared with my appetizer and A— disappeared.

I ate and wrote in my journal and thought about the train ride to come, curious about the platzkartny service, and wondering how I should repack my bags. The sun shone; the afternoon wore on.

(Note: Tonight I head to Irkutsk on the train. I won't arrive until the 26th and won't have internet service until then so updates are suspended at least until that date.)
Posted by eku at September 22, 2008 9:13 AM