Part two of Elyse and Jon's Excellent Adventure has begun...
Our final days in Russia were rather quiet and disappointingly well-behaved. Saturday was spent very respectably, and Sunday, our final full day in Moscow, was much the same. We made our last visit to the Look In Cafe, which became a sort of second home for us. We ate the last of our Russian street food, and waved goodbye to our bar. The best part of our night came after we left the bar, when we went to sit in Pushkin Square. The night was relatively warm, so we cuddled on a bench and had a nice long talk. I would have loved to have stayed longer, but sadly nature was calling and I was beginning to develop a cold, so I figured it would be best for me to get inside and get to sleep.
Oh no!
I just realized I neglected to tell you about the excitement of our afternoon! We'd noticed throughout the day that the police presence in the city, particularly in the subways, had undergone a dramatic increase. We couldn't figure out why - there was no immediately apparent reason for it - until we began to notice an influx of people wearing red and white garments on the subway. They announced their arrival with drunken shouts and simultaneous chanting, and soon the reason for the strengthened police force became all too obvious: it was game day. Russians take their soccer games so seriously, apparently, that it takes the police force of an entire city (or so it seemed, at least) to keep them under control. The trains became so crowded and noisy that we couldn't tell which stops we'd reached, and began to worry that we'd miss ours.
Then we had a second revelation.
Our metro stop was called "Sportivnaya."
It was the stop for the stadium.
The entire population of Moscow was headed our way, and they were drunk out of their minds.
Things were going to get entertaining.
And entertaining they were. :) It's hard not to get caught up in the energy of massive amounts of people, and indeed it proved to be quite infectious! I couldn't help smiling as everyone yelled and chanted and sang their fight songs. We arrived at the Sportivnaya stop to find that everyone did in fact exit the train and begin rushing towards the stadium. All three escalators in the station had been redirected so that they were moving up, to get everyone out as quickly as possible! It was incredible to see so many people packed into such a small place. Jon took a great video of the crowd singing on the escalators.
Once we exited the station, we discovered that not only were the police out to safeguard the city from rabid soccer fans, but the military had been called into action too!! It was very intimidating, actually, though still rather hilarious. After a lengthy, unsuccessful search for a beer for Jon (apparently Moscow had consumed its entire supply, or something), we followed the inebriated mass of humanity to the stadium. Again, no beer. We considered buying tickets, but the game had already started at that point and Jon had a lot of work to do. The city was covered in empty beer bottles for the rest of the night. I really must attempt to attend a sporting event while I'm away...I forgot how much crazier they are in Europe!
On Monday, following that rather grand farewell to Russia, Jon and I began the journey to Germany.
My, did that turn out to be a complicated day!
We arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare, only to discover that the plane was delayed an hour. We took advantage of the business lounge's free wi-fi, then went in search of food. The restaurant we settled on told Jon that they didn't accept cards, so much to his dismay he had to find an ATM and take out more roubles, just before leaving the country. He was gone for a long time, and when he finally came back he was in a terrible mood. The ATM had TAKEN money from him, instead of dispensing it. We wandered, looking for a restaurant that would take cards, when I remembered that I still had roubles. We went back to the original place, had a surprisingly tasty salad and sandwich, paid...and then watched another customer pay by credit card. The woman working behind the counter was clearly mentally deficient.
Luck was somewhat on our side, however - as we walked to our gate, a maintenance man was working on the defective ATM, and he was able to refund part of the money. The flight itself, thankfully, was completely uneventful, beyond some minor confusion over the smiley face that Jon signs all of his credit cards with. Once in Munich, we tried to find the bus that we'd been directed to take into the center of the city. Our search rapidly got us nowhere, so we abandoned it in favor of another bus and a cab. Our cab driver didn't speak English, so he called over another driver to figure out where we needed to go and, after several tense minutes of conversation (we still had to pick up the key for the apartment we're renting and we were already late), we were on our way.
That's when disaster struck again. Jon suddenly sat bolt upright in his chair, eyes the size of a Weight Watchers participant staring at a piece of chocolate cake, and asked if I'd seen his laptop.
I hadn't. Both of us desperately searched our brains for a memory of putting it in the cab, all the while driving farther and farther away from the bus that possibly contained it, but came up with nothing. We struggled for a moment with trying to find a way to ask the driver to pull over and open the trunk, miraculously settling on something that he understood right away. Jon dove out the door to check, while I crossed my fingers and prayed that nothing else was going to go wrong on an already stressful day.
And, at that moment, it didn't. Jon sat back down, obvious relief spreading across his face, and said that we had it. I let out a breath that I must have been holding since we pulled over, and we continued on our way.
Unfortunately, the quiet, dark street that we arrived on didn't look like much of a destination. I curled up on the street, nestled snugly amongst all our belongings, and guarded the luggage while Jon went in search of a phone with which to call the person with the keys. He was gone for an eternity, or perhaps it just felt like an eternity to someone who is falling asleep on the sidewalk because they're exhausted and have the flu. I was expecting a passerby to toss change at me at any minute, they had such pity-filled looks on their faces! Finally Jon reappeared, then promptly disappeared again into the building across the street. When he emerged, he had the keys in his hand and we set off for our new home.
We got in to the front door of the building with no trouble, and the owner of the apartment let us in to her place. It's very cute...a little hippy, as was she, but light and airy and definitely bigger than our apartments in New York. She left after chatting with us for a little bit, and shortly afterwards we followed suit. We grabbed a quick dinner and headed home for an early night. Between being sick and all the traveling, I was completely wiped. We exited the elevator, walked to the door, and put the key to the lock.
It didn't fit.
No matter what Jon or I did, the lock wouldn't budge. We spent the next...hour and a half?...two hours?...trying to convince the key that it was, in fact, going to work for us. Jon tried EVERYTHING - different keys, a credit card, filing the key into a different shape - to no avail. He was very much the rescuing superhero, come to save the day, while the damsel in distress fought with all her might to keep her heavy eyelids open. I was very ready to curl up in the hallway and call it a night! After exhausting all our resources, we wandered around our new city a bit and stopped into a small Turkish bar on the corner of our street on the way back. We asked if they would call a locksmith for us, but everyone there (clearly the owners/employees and their friends) was convinced that one of their men could get it open. They looked like the Turkish mafia, sitting around a circular table smoking and playing cards and discussing how best to break into an apartment.
Two of them returned with us, and tried card after card after card to get the door open. Nothing worked. Miserable, Jon and I were ready to give up when, by some incredible miracle, the door creaked open. Jon took the guys downstairs to buy them beers, while I prepared to pass out for the night.
What an ordeal.
Welcome to Munich. :)
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