The Land of Borat

I survived.

4 nights and 3 days cooped up in a 100 square foot closet with 3 other people.

I’m quite proud of myself right now. Not only did I survive, I enjoyed it. The train was very peaceful and relaxing, especially when it ended in Almaty, Kazakhstan with one of the most impressive and comprehensive banyas in Central Asia.

About 1 hour after the train pulled into Alma-Ata I was checked into the hotel and was off to banya. To feel clean is such a luxury when you travel and getting clean is often part of the fun. You guys know from older posts how much I love banya. But this one was incredible with a full pool that you swim naked in (sex-specific obviously) and mostly because you could also opt for a $20 massage.

There may be some bruises on my back this morning. The masseuse was a diminutive Kazakh named Karina, whom I quickly renamed Igor - she dug in fingers, fists and elbows into my back and found muscles that definitely have never been reached before. It could have hurt more - if she was wearing stilettos standing on me while carrying a Hummer. It probably also could have hurt less, but where is the fun in that.

Now, with a few less skin cells on my body and way less dirt, I find myself in Almaty - an incredible city of trees. So many trees, all the roads have pedestrianized tree-lined side streets and fountains everywhere (and a church...aaaaahhhhh). It is fantastic and super cosmopolitan. This is hardly Borat-country.

Despite the beauty and energy of the town, I'm stuck in a cafe on the internet. I haven't yet cured my internet addiction, curing my phone addiction was enough I think. But, mostly I've been online all day organizing my Tibet trip and Panda volunteering. It's really going to be great and I'm totally looking forward to China - if only there wasn't another 52 hours of train in front of me next week.

The Clak-Clak is coming to get me.

Epic

Clak-Clak, Clak-Clak, Tak, Screech, Slam, “Chai, Kofe, Chai, Kofe”…these sounds both haunt my dreams and rock me to sleep.

81 hour train ride from Moscow to Alma-Ata, it’s an incredible adventure and a quintessential Russian experience. That's 4 nights and 3 days stuck in a cubbyhole.

You probably have some basic questions - some I've answered below.

The main question though - Why do I do this to myself? Sorry, I have absolutely no answer to that.

1) What do you eat? Lots and LOTS of ramen noodles ($0.30 a package). In the train there is a samovar with a continuous supply of boiling water. Which means lots of porridge, tea and noodles, there is also cardboard crackers and that miraculous Laughing Cow cheese that never goes bad. And, chocolate (obviously). Did you know that Mars bars don’t melt? One of the more important discoveries in a traveler’s life.

B) What in the HELL do you do with your time? Write a blog, for one. Read, eat, pretend to speak Russian to your cabin mates and stare at the endless expanse that is the Central Asian countryside. I’ve been pondering life a lot. Where I am in my life and how I got here. So far, my conclusions are pretty simple – I love the life I have created for myself and I love all of those reading this (unless someone strange that I have never met is reading this – then – “Go away weirdo”).
Third) How do you wash? In short – you get creative or just sit in your stench for 4 straight days. A sponge bath can do the trick or wash with a small Tupperware container as a bucket shower. I have become a ninja master at putting-on-underwear-in-wet-shoes-balancing-on-one-foot-in-moving-train. I also have trained my nose to no longer smell BO. Mine, or others.

4) Is it comfortable? Yes, sort of. You pretty much get an entire bed to yourself the whole time. The upper bunks are more private but you don’t get a view, the lower bunks have a table for eating etc but the upper bunk people often want to just sit with you on your bed. You get linens, pillows and a towel and everyone knows the drill so you just hunker down and smile when you get stressed.


And my new lesson I learnt this trip – VALIUM. I haven’t needed one yet but there is a certain comfort in knowing that I have 15 of them (for $5 in Ulaanbataar). You just never know when I’ll go insane in this cage of a train or that ‘clak-clak’ finally snaps me.

The Itinerary

I have a plan.

I swear!

Well, I sorta have a plan. Okay, I have an idea of a plan. Correction - I have a fair inkling of something that looks like a plan.
It goes like this:

4 days (!) on the train from Moscow to Almaty, Kazakhstan
2 days in Almaty, Kazakhstan
2 day train to Urumqi, China

From Urumqi there are a few possible options but it is looking like I will be visiting:

Xi'an to see the terracotta warriors
Chengdu to see the pandasTibet for probably 7 days and maybe a trek to Everest Base Camp

The BEST part - there is a volunteer program with the Wolong Nature Reserve where I would get to clean up panda shit! I'm SOOOOOOooooooooo pumped for that! And, you get to hold a panda...I'm kinda pumped for that.


Then Beijing. Then home :(

I'll keep you posted because, knowing me, I might end up in Australia. Oh - and no Facebook in China....wtf

Blasted Church

For an atheist traveling in Russia, I think I'm doing pretty well. I've seen about 1,093,283 churches including 2 Cathedrals of the Annunciation, 2 - no make that 3 - Churches of the Resurrection, toss in a few Churches of the Transfiguration (whatever that means), a Church of something or other on Spilled Blood, and St. Isaac's, St. whathisface and whoisitwhatsit and I think I'm churched out. Russia is about two things - vast tracts of uninhabited lands and churches. I've done both - in spades.

Despite my unredeemable soul, there have been some incredible and jaw-dropping churches.

The Church of the Transfiguration on Kizhi Island in Lake Onega.

The ever-changing St. Basil's of Moscow.


And, my favorite - the absolutely majestic St. Isaac's of St. Petersburg.

So it's time to move on. Kazakhstan beckons tonight and I get on a 4 day train to Almaty. I'm definitely going to welcome the change. From churches to mosques.

The Ritual

The North Africans have their hammams, the Finns have their sauna, the French have their stench and the Russians have the glorious world of banya.

It is absolutely essential fr any visit to Russia to go to banya. It is a world of naked people all thrashing themselves into oblivion. No, it's not the hot new sadomasochistic trend of Moscow nightclubs, it's the weekly pilgrimage to the sauna. The Russian banya is simple - stoke a huge wood-burning fireplace and heat a sauna to the point of eye-scalding heat. Once you are utterly and thoroughly roasted you take a bundle of birch leaves and beat yourself, and others, with it. Then, when you are cleansed of all your toxins and remaining moisture in your body, you jump into a freezing cold plunge pool. And then you repeat - over and over again.

After that you shower, shave, lather, exfoliate, moisturize, nap and otherwise treat yourself like a goddess for another 2 hours and you leave feeling refreshed and possibly a little battered.

After having done banya a couple of times it got me thinking of the ritual of it. All the bathhouses have a similar concept and they are focused on the ritual and the community. North American women go to the spa and are told how to feel good. In Russia, the women all get together and chat, without abandon, about how to make banya good for you. It's about exploring and creating your own ritual.

I would love to see something like this in Edmonton, we do at home spas and spend gazillions dollars a year on doing something I just did for $20. All we really need is a big communal shower room, a sauna, a plunge pool and a humbling nakedness to complete the community that is banya.

Catherine (aka Torah) the Great

I have decided that Catherine the Great and I probably would have been pretty good friends.

a) She had great taste.

Her palace called Tsarskoe Selo (or now known as Pushkin) is an incredible piece of architecture and landscaping. A small lake and island in the middle is perfect to make a gorgeous hunk row you across. The fabulous marble staircase makes a perfect makeout spot and the palace itself lets you worship your own success.

b) She overthrew her husband

With quotes like "I believe the Crown of Russia attracted me more than his person", how can you not love that in an 18th century woman

c) She had lovers, lots of lovers

Potemkin, Orlov, Zubov - and those are just the names I recognize. She had heaps of lovers, some poets, some military generals and others just darn sexy.

I'm not saying I'd want to be her, but man I'd love to hear her gossip.

Busk Away

St. Petersburg is a city of artists, a city of lovers and a city that is painfully beautiful. In every park there are people with easels or sketchbooks on on every train there are people reading books. And not just the most recent Dan Brown. But real books - Pushkin, Hesse, Dostoyevsky.

Even the buskers have culture. So far I have seen a flamenco dancer, a flautist, a trumpet player, a tap dancer and, the most special of all of them, a saxophone player in the square of the Winter Palace at 5.30am playing requests from a single Russian girl who loved Kenny G. It was magic.
I will leave, I promise. I'm going to book my ticket to Moscow today. I just have to keep telling myself that I will actually leave this magnificent place.

I haven't only been in the 'Burg. I went for a two day trip to Kizhi, an island on Lake Onega with a fabulous cathedral and ancient building museum. There aren't really words that can describe this place, so here's a pic.
And, I've spent many days out in the suburbs of SPb checking out the cool palaces and monuments built by the Russian nobility. Peterhof was a dazzling display of gold leaf, cascading fountains, beautiful gardens and the deserving title - the Russian Versailles.


Tomorrow it's off to Moscow. Unless I get stuck here. Again. Plus, the cute boy left today.