First coupla weeks в России

Well... I appear to be in Russia. Thought I'd join the blogging masses to keep you unwashed lot updated of my adventures. Mostly because it's either this or SMI homework. S..c..r...eeeeew that!

I've been here for two weeks and I'm already in flipping love with Saint Petersburg. I don't know what it is about this city, but there's definitely something special about it. Maybe it's the ludicrously cheap sushi, or the endless pancakes. Or the people defecating in the street. Who knows, either way I can tell I'm going to love my time here.

The last two weeks have been.. turbulent. The first night in the Motherland was horrendous. I arrived at my homestay accommodation after a stupidly long bus ride into the 'back of beyond' (as the Russians call it, otherwise known as Vaslievskii island). Although the prolific graffiti and loitering ruffians added a certain charm to the post-soviet tower blocks, something just didn't feel right. With the added trauma of meeting my khoziaika and realising I couldn't understand or speak any Russian, I did wonder why the HECK I'd chosen to learn Russian instead of some sun-related language like Spanish. Contemplating the fact that I was consigned to the ghetto for nine month, I tried to work out the best way of integrating into the local gang culture to protect myself. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door! Upon arriving at the airport I'd been told I'd be staying with another girl in the same apartment, but she was arriving later. Miss Phoebe Spurr arrived in the evening, when I'd all but given up hope and was plotting my escape through the window with the aid of bedsheets. We got talking and it became pretty clear that neither of us wanted to stay there, so on a whim we decided to move out. I knew I'd like her after she started talking about her bowels even though we'd just met.

This decision to leave was further consolidated by the fried pasta that we had for tea. With a HUGE chunk of loathsome tomato. We couldn't find the bin so naturally we threw it out of the window when Zinaida left the room. Other culinary delights from Zinaida's kitchen included salt omelette (salt with a pinch of egg), pancakes with dates and smetana and pancakes with cabbage. Yes, cabbage.

Looong story short, me and Phoebe have now moved to a shiny new flat and are livin' it laaaarge! Our flat is right in the centre of Petersburg, about 15 minutes from Nevskii Prospekt. It's so cute! Very 70s. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I haven't travelled back in time. It's difficult when there are so many mullets and lairy trousers around. I've got inexplicable mullet envy at the minute. Do I take the plunge and get one? Ooooh dilemma. I've also got my heart set on getting some roller blades, they are quite the craze on Nevskii. I'm so well coordinated it would be a crime NOT to get them.

The house-warming party went well, judging from the fifteen empty vodka bottles left at the end. Nobody decided to trash the flat which was nice, apart from one person in particular (you know who you are) wanting to wee in the sink. It was laaaavely to see everyone together, even if I was too much of a drunken mess later to hold a conversation.

All in all I feel like I've settled in Russia. I've done absolutely nothing constructive or tourist-y, I've permanently damaged my lungs and liver, and I'm already skiving off the doss lessons to go get coffee/pancakes/fags. Juuust like home. So yeah this blog is probably what ze Engleeesh call “useless”. Who knows, maybe one day I'll post something informative. Oh the anticipation!

Here is a hilarious picture of a dog with a mullet:

Ha.

до скоро!