Moscow is sick
It feels like the city is trying to force a fever on you. One minute there’s wind and rain and general arse-numbing chills (and blister-numbing which is handy). The next, a department store like Gum thrusts you into a tropical heatwave. Then out into snow by the flashing lights of a Casino. Then maybe a trip on the monumental metro and off with the hat and scarf, undo the coat, and try to move slowly to avoid the steam.
Had dinner with a friend of a friend of a friend last night, the beautiful and charming Oksana Kondratchuk at the Pushkin Restaurant. Top food, top company. A big shout out to the Patrick Keatinge and Oksana V Dembitska massives for setting it up. My chance to chat about Russia and the Ukraine and have wodka and blini during blini week (Maslenitsa). Maslenitsa is a celebration just like pancake day – a chance to fry all of your fat and rich foods, and then cover them in sugar, and scoff them guilt free. It’s funny how you perceive a country is by reading a guide book, and then get chance to shatter all of your preconceptions when you meet people. Oksana is a true ambassador, and has put my ideas about uzi-toting lunatics to rest.
