There's snow business like..snow...business..?

It's bloody cold. The temperature in Petersburg has plummeted over the last week to -8C. Eew. And it's set to get much colder. There is solace though – SNOOOOOOW! In a couple of days of heavy snow there's already enough on the ground to make walking in heels a disastrous idea. And yet the Russian female contingent still seem to manage in stilettos?! I'm barely coping in my new boots that could be mistaken for rogue sheep. Cruisin' is becoming ever more difficult in these conditions - although maybe that's because I'm British. The Russians just seem to get on with snowy life here. If this much snow fell in England overnight the whole country would descend into much angry letter writing to various scapegoats (“Dear weather, you've ruined my shrubberies”). Either way, this dratted weather means I'm going to have to walk around looking like a hippo in a duvet until we go back to England. Goodbyyyye fashion! Petersburg is really pretty in the snow though, regardless of the perils of the frozen tundra that is our courtyard. And there's so much more to come! The road outside Benedict School is going to turn into a war-torn snowball combat zone.

The Russians are still raving about how warm it is for this time of year. Here is a picture of how I imagine the situation will be in a couple of weeks:

This weekend looks set to be a busy one – Chloe and Halvor are soon to be leaving us and thus much merriment shall be made (because we're sad they're leaving, not because, thank God, they've finally left). And how can I resist a Russian reggae night in an underground bunker?

We braved the icy wilderness to go to see Harry Potter this week – pretty standard wizardry and hilarious dance scenes, although this time the film did stick to the book a lot more (fnar fnar, geek). The Russian dubbing did add hilarity to the experience – Ron just sounded plain silly saying круто. On the way out we realised that Dobby was sitting behind us the whole time! It could've been a short ugly woman but in my mind it was definitely an elf. I was starstruck.

Only four weeks until home now! I'm in two minds over going back – I love Petersburg but it'll be nice to not have to fear rabid dogs/falling icicles/drunkards for a while. Also I'm going to consume an inhuman amount of cheese when I get back so watch out next semester, heffer AHOY! And any Sheffielders better lock up their daughters – I will most definitely be hitting Corp over the hols.

Potentially, hopefully, maaaybe going to see Hot Chip in two weeks. There's a digital art festival called Yota Space and they are headlining at the launch event. Oooooh it'd be a reyt do. Decisions, decisions, can I justify 1000 roubles on Hot Chip instead of food? If only Hot Chip came with a side order of their namesake...

Brrr, just writing about the cold has made me chilly. TEA PLEASE!

P.S. I WENT TO THE HERMITAGE! I realise now that this is probably the sort of thing real people write blogs about...hmm.

Ending on a warm note:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6304447980554417691#

ambivalent bear

So everything seems to have come to a grinding halt since the Moscow trip. I'm still happy here, but I've started to miss home for the first time since we arrived. Nothing that a Teremok won't sort though. Russia continues to amuse me regardless of the fact I've been hit by a car for the second time this week today. The main problem is school – if it weren't for those pesky lessons, school would be alright. Although there are hilarious moments (writing 'Andy is a poo' on the board so it's there for the whole lesson) and some quality doodling, spending three hours staring into space everyday is draining. There's not even Starbucks to save me. Also staring has become difficult as I've caught some eye disease overnight. Well, conjunctivitis. All my 'ands' and 'buts' are swollen. Most likely it's from passing out drunk in my make-up too often. But что делать? I'll just have to spend a week or so looking like a zombie.

This week has been fairly uneventful – a failed trip to go see Saw 3d (phew), someone asking if I was Japanese on the metro (?!) and a lot more drinking than was intended. Friday night was, as the cool kids would say, bangin'. The Benedict mob descended on a bar called Griboedov, somewhere in Petersburg (probably, I can't remember where or who I was to be frank). Everyone was a nice level of wasted and much hot goss was forged in that fateful night. Most of it radiating from Andy and his shirtless/violent/slaggy ways. Silly bear. The only regret I have (that I can recall) from Friday is that I didn't get no cake. I was later informed that there is a cafe in Griboedov that was serving delicious snacks until at least 3am. The vomming would have been soooo worth it.

I'm going to love you and leave you – as fun and time-wasting as blogging is, I feel I should maybe do some work now we have only six weeks (wah!!) left in Russia. It's weird to think that some people will be leaving sooner! Crikey. Stay safe folks, and ну погоди for the next one!


For your amusement in the meantime:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPe-fPzBFF0

Travelling bear

Well, it's the first day back at school since reading week. And by 'eck has it been hectic lately. Between going out all the time and a spontaneous trip to Moscow, it's hardly been a restful time. But now it's back to class with renewed vim and vigour having revised all reading week and looking forward to attending every lesson. I've started as I mean to go on my missing разговор this morning. It's so hard to get up when the sky is so dark, there's light snow and so many hilarious cat videos on Youtube.

So the highlight of the week was our brief sojourn to Moscow. A few of us had planned to go previously, but as the time drew near we realised we'd all been ridiculously disorganised and not bought tickets/packed/sorted our lives out. But lo! We popped to the station to see if there were train tickets left, and there were some for the very same night! In плацкарта mind, but tickets nonetheless. Entirely unsure of what to expect, everyone congregated at my flat with their luggage items (some sensible, some suitcases) to wait for the train at 2am. There was an air of excitement... until we actually got on. Плацкарта is basically around sixty beds in one carriage with no extra space. I say beds, they were more like shelves. Uncomfortable, stinky shelves. I was cursed with the top bunk both ways which is only big enough to capacitate shrews and the like, so my tall self ended up getting stuck in various awkward positions. The drunk Russians taking 'candid' photographs of me did nothing to aid my sleep either. Here is a picture of a typical плацкарта carriage:

Spacious. I'm not sure who the nice chap is...

Although, discomfort aside, it was novel and also not too expensive - £16 each way for an eight hour journey is so cheap compared to England.

Moscow itself was bon - we stayed in a hostel called Godzillas, which I would heartily recommend to anyone. It was laaaavely and clean with the most amazing showers. Also it's only £20 a night and close to the centre, not too shabby! We did a bit of sight-seeing, a bit of shopping and a bit of going out. It was all hilarious fun and much banter was had, even if biffing someone wearing a helmet over the head when they order a particular drink seems to be the norm in bars.

The main attraction in Moscow was definitely Starbucks. My god, my first caramel macchiato in months was SWEET. Even if it cost £4ish. Me and Becci were united in out ecstasy at finding this legendary establishment and the discovery was celebrated with much hugging and merry-making (involving a ukelele, naturally). Also some girlish squealing.

Another point of interest was meeting up with my best friend, Joe, who took us to a huge funfair in some sort of park (I have no clue where I was) near the famed Hotel Cosmos (it was in Nightwatch, dontcha know). Highlights include the 'Shake-Dance' ride that we went on which was far more terrifying than any of us had expected and some mild violence on the bumper cars. Sooore knees.

So other than losing my purse due to unforeseen foolishness (not on my part), embarrassing 'Er..I actually have no money' situations in Kofe Haus and trying to translate the archaic Irish dialect being bandied about by Martha and Fletcher, Moscow was pretty sweet.