After a year and a half and extensive travel throughout Western Europe, it was high time for this intrepid explorer to experience some of the wonder and beauty that Russia has to offer. Naturally, when the opportunity presented itself to spend the night in one of the Golden Ring towns just outside of Moscow, I jumped at the chance. As an added bonus, our itinerary included an authentic баня (Russian sauna) and a horse-drawn sleigh ride through the woods. Mr. U stayed home for some P&Q (peace and quiet, of course) while I scooted out of town for the night with 4 girlfriends. I can’t say that I blame Mr. U for staying home, can you?
Since two of our group are Starbucks addicts, we left the apartment building at some ungodly hour to make the 15 minute trek to grab a bathtub’s worth of morning pick-me-up before joining up with two more of our fellow travelers. The walk was treacherous with black ice everywhere just waiting to trip us up but somehow we persevered and it was all good in the end. We were glared at a few times along the way for not having our heads covered by a scarf or hat and for having “to go” cups of coffee but we somehow made it back with time to spare.
Our adventure started right on time, with our driver ready to pick four of us up from home at the pre-arranged hour. One more quick stop to pick up our 5th member at her place and we were on our way. Thankfully there was little to no traffic (which in Moscow terms is equivalent to Ottawa rush hour volume) and we sped along towards our ultimate destination of Сергиев Посад, a city of just over 111,000 residents built up around the Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius. The Трoице-Сeргиева Лaвра is the most important Russian monastery, home to more than 300 monks, the largest seminary in Russia and is considered the spiritual center of the Russian Orthodox Church. Our hostess received us with a warm welcome and a hearty breakfast once she got over the shock of hosting a group of five women without any male companions. Apparently this isn’t done? After some laughter and good-natured joking around, my Starbucks partner-in-crime and I agreed to bunk down together in the king-sized bed of the second bedroom that was prepared for our group. The other three ladies had individual beds in the room next door.
Stuffed to the gills with coffee, tea, fruit, cheese, blini and more delicious blini, we set out for some “winter fun in the woods” but not before being chastised and instructed repeatedly to dress warmly as we were going to be outside for the better part of the day and it was going to be very cold. Obviously she didn’t realize with whom she was dealing. We are hearty Canadian girls, you know, unafraid of a little bracing winter air. We don’t have an ingrained paranoia of “catching a chill”. This is not to say that we weren’t armed to the teeth with boots, scarves, mittens, hats and winter coats to make our mothers proud. Apparently our hostess didn’t believe that we were adequately bundled up despite our best efforts and protests. I can assure you that, indeed, we were more than warm enough the entire time.
Mother Nature was on our side as she decided to pull out all the stops and present us with an exquisite day of brilliant sunshine and mild temperature, ensuring that our foray into the forest was magical. Driving to the forest, we had our reservations as to what was to become of us as our driver didn’t speak any English and for that matter, barely spoke to us at all. (Thankfully, a few members of our “gaggle” were fluent in Russian so there were no communication issues at all. I still speak Russian like a two-year-old but at least I can get my basic point across. I’m working on it, I promise.) He turned down what I can only assume is a dirt road during the summer months but was covered in ice and snow for our excursion. The next thing we knew, we found ourselves in a beautiful, tree-lined clearing somewhere in the Russian country-side, far away from any hint of civilization. On the one hand it was paradise, on the other it was slightly spooky. Our driver stopped the van, gestured for us to get out and did not say another word. There we were, five women bundled to the teeth, standing in a clearing awaiting ... well, we weren’t quite sure what we were waiting for but we all snapped an inordinate amount of photos of snow-covered birch and fir trees. After an awkward 10 minutes had passed and the thrill of being in the country-side was beginning to wear thin, our extremities were starting to feel the winter’s chill slowly creep through our gloves and boots. Our driver stood silently and stoically off to the side and watched as we shuffled from one foot to the other, his expression never changing, seemingly chiseled from granite. I wonder what he thought about our little group of nattering hens. Just as tales of bloody horror movie scenes were beginning to creep into our conversations, emerging silently from the trees were two beautiful horses drawing sleighs come to transport us deeper into the woods and on towards our afternoon in the fresh air.
The sleigh ride was straight out of a fairy tale, complete with woolen blankets to keep us warm as the wooden runners slid silently across a layer of freshly-fallen, pristinely white snow. We rushed through the forest smiling and laughing the whole way and hanging on for dear life as we could tell that the horses itched to be let loose to run as fast as they could with their passengers in tow. Rounding an unexpected corner, we were brought to another clearing where a crackling fire was being tended by a friendly, young woman dressed in a sweater and snowpants. (The voice of our hostess ringing in my ears about dressing properly for the freezing cold weather quickly fading to a whisper.) Pickles and vodka and sausages (well, hot dogs, really, but let me have my romantic notions) to roast over the fire satisfied our growling stomachs and helped to warm us from the inside out - so too did the attention of Анатолий and Сергей and their flask of Johnny Walker.
It seems that every Saturday these two bon-vivants spend the day bombing through the woods on their Ski-Doos (made by Bombardier, no less!), stopping here and there to share a drink and a laugh with anyone they meet. Their English was fantastic and their positive attitude and welcoming spirit even more so. When I walked over to them and asked them what they were drinking, I was met with a sly response of “Viskey ... you vant?” When I replied, “Да! чуть-чуть, пожалуйста” (yes! a tiny bit, please) and gestured for more than a finger’s worth to be poured in my glass, we became instant friends. Another of our quirky quintet stole their hearts by hopping onto one of the Ski-Doos and showing Анатолий (or was it Сергей?) how to ride.
Canadian grrrls kick butt.
Our winter fun didn’t stop there. It was back in to the sleighs for another ride through the forest and back to our clearing for some hot tea made with water heated in a samovar. We participated in a few traditional seasonal activities such as sawing a log with a soviet-era saw, sledding/sliding down a small hill and we played a game that is usually reserved for men but since we didn’t have any around (Сергей and Анатолий had since left to continue their Saturday fun), we got to try our hands at it. The game consisted of two opponents squaring off against each other while standing on an elevated beam, each armed with a straw-filled pillow, trying desperately to knock the other off balance and into the snow. Needless to say that after consuming vodka, whiskey and being drunk on fresh air, our laughter rang through the forest.
Our magical afternoon spent far away from the hustle and bustle of urban life left us refreshed and recharged. Returning by sleigh-ride to the clearing where our van driver waited patiently (or was it stoically?) for us, it was time to leave the peace and quiet of the birch grove and head back to Сергиев Посад for the next chapter in our weekend getaway from the big city.
Our hostess welcomed us back and once we had a chance to shed our heavy duty winter gear and suit up for a walk through the monastery grounds, she sent us on our way with strict instructions to return by 5:30 PM as dinner was to be served then. She originally insisted that we could take as long as we wanted provided that we returned for dinner by 5 PM but we managed to negotiate a 5:30 PM return for dinner, knowing that we did not wish to feel rushed as we toured through the monastery grounds. She promised to talk to us about the monastery and the city history when we returned for dinner.
Since we were way too busy enjoying the food and each other’s company during dinner, our hostess couldn’t get a word in edgewise and she gave up trying.
She did, however, pre-heat the баня for us so we could partake in a traditional Russian activity....at 8 PM sharp! Needless to say , we were ushered out of the dining room and encouraged to change and return to the баня area of the house for our evening’s frolic in the heat and snow.
The Russian баня tradition is that you sit naked in the wood-paneled room until you break a sweat and then you hurl yourself into the snow in order to shock your body into cooling down rapidly - lather, rinse, repeat. Some people self-flagellate with dried birch switches gathered in the summer and dried for use in the winter. We didn’t go quite that far. Regardless, the entire experience was refreshing and rejuvenating. We all opted to cool down using the snow just outside the баня instead of the frigid plunge pool.
We all slept very well that night.
Sunday morning brought another stack o’ blinis and omelets and the lecture we had missed the previous evening. After learning all that we needed to know and more about the history of the city, the monastery and its inner workings, we were once again shuffled upstairs and out the door with strict instructions to be back by a certain time in order to collect our personal belongings and catch the next train out of town and back to Moscow. We were strongly encouraged to leave as soon as we could to visit the monastery grounds as, after all, it was Sunday morning and surely we did not want to miss the services - they end at 11AM. Someone had to keep this unruly bunch of women in line, I guess.
We opted out of the monastery tour having spent the better part of two hours there the previous day and instead headed down main street towards the local history and culture museum for what turned out to be a very engaging and informative visit.
The trappings of everyday life.
матрешка
After a pizza lunch at a local restaurant we headed back to collect our things, said goodbye to our gracious hostess (who was in the process of welcoming yet another group of snow-pants clad tourists) and headed up the hill to the train station to buy our tickets and enjoy the ride home.
Now this is how to keep the train platform clean! Canada could learn a thing or two from these guys.
I have to say that the 130 руб (4.24$ CAD) I spent on my train ticket back to Moscow was the best value for my money ever. As with most trains on fixed schedules, ours pulled into the station precisely on time and waited for no man, woman or child to leave the station in order to keep to the schedule. Not only was there non-stop entertainment - which I will get to later - but the views out of the windows were comforting and familiar. The landscape around the Moscow area is very similar to the one I am used to in Canada with a healthy mix of deciduous and coniferous trees lining the train tracks, wide open spaces covered in snowdrifts as far as the eye can see and дачи (cottages) dappling the landscape in small clusters.
Train etiquette was observed with passengers politely sharing the seating with others and voices kept low in order not to disturb those around you. That is, all but the booth behind us. That booth was filled with six young men drinking квасс (a bread-based, fermented beverage) and having a grand old time. They were obviously old hands at the train game as they spent their time carousing and carrying on, not paying too much attention to the comings and goings of the incessant parade of vendors and passengers in transit. They even stepped out of the car into the in-between platform to have a smoke. How polite, I thought, until I realized that something was awry. All of a sudden two armed guard appeared out of nowhere (and when I say armed guard I do not mean armed with a bb gun or even a hand gun) and blocked the exits on either side of our train car. Luckily the boys were outside having a smoke and then they sort of disappeared. I thought nothing more of it as the fare inspector came by to check our tickets and all was in order. Once the inspection had finished, the guards and the ticket-taker were through with our car so they moved forward to the next cabin. During this time the train had pulled into one of the many interim stops along the way back to Moscow and out of the corner of my eye I saw our six booth companions run along the platform to the car behind us. It took me long enough to realize what they were up to but once I figured it out, I was quite impressed. Instead of paying the 130 руб, these fellows were keeping an eye out and dodging the fare inspector and having a blast while doing it. There is an open platform for passengers to embark on the train and the fare inspector only comes on board at random stops so it is very simple to hop a train and evade the authorities if you’re willing to put up with a bit of a jog. Mr. U assures me that this is quite the local sport. I figure the six guys behind us were definitely medalists. They didn’t break a sweat, stride or even seem remotely worried that they would even get caught.
Awesome.
The good-time boys were not the only form of entertainment in store for us, it seemed. In addition to the raucous and boisterous group, there was a non-stop stream of vendors hawking their wares. I was warned about this but was not prepared for the constant flow of salespeople presenting pretty much live infomercials in order to sell their stock. What follows is a list of products for sale on the 16h54 train to Moscow.
Socks
Straw slippers
German-made glasses with flexible ear pieces and magnifying lenses
Loofahs and skin scrubbing tools, brooms
Manicure tools, brushes
Musical interlude played on a child’s combination instrument of kazoo/keyboard
Hair bands and scrunchies -she had a microphone and amplifier to help project her voice
Gas fireplace lighters, screen-savers for smartphones
Duobang (I haven’t a clue what a Duobang is)
Freeze-dried sponge, washing bag, Unimax (??), suit bag, pencils and dusting cloths
I was exhausted by the time we reached the final train station in Moscow. I can’t remember when I last giggled for an hour non-stop. My sides were aching.
The metro ride home was a real let-down after the exciting and dynamic train ride back to the city. I’m itching for an excuse to take the train again. I wonder what treasures will be for sale the next time?
Since two of our group are Starbucks addicts, we left the apartment building at some ungodly hour to make the 15 minute trek to grab a bathtub’s worth of morning pick-me-up before joining up with two more of our fellow travelers. The walk was treacherous with black ice everywhere just waiting to trip us up but somehow we persevered and it was all good in the end. We were glared at a few times along the way for not having our heads covered by a scarf or hat and for having “to go” cups of coffee but we somehow made it back with time to spare.
Our adventure started right on time, with our driver ready to pick four of us up from home at the pre-arranged hour. One more quick stop to pick up our 5th member at her place and we were on our way. Thankfully there was little to no traffic (which in Moscow terms is equivalent to Ottawa rush hour volume) and we sped along towards our ultimate destination of Сергиев Посад, a city of just over 111,000 residents built up around the Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius. The Трoице-Сeргиева Лaвра is the most important Russian monastery, home to more than 300 monks, the largest seminary in Russia and is considered the spiritual center of the Russian Orthodox Church. Our hostess received us with a warm welcome and a hearty breakfast once she got over the shock of hosting a group of five women without any male companions. Apparently this isn’t done? After some laughter and good-natured joking around, my Starbucks partner-in-crime and I agreed to bunk down together in the king-sized bed of the second bedroom that was prepared for our group. The other three ladies had individual beds in the room next door.
Stuffed to the gills with coffee, tea, fruit, cheese, blini and more delicious blini, we set out for some “winter fun in the woods” but not before being chastised and instructed repeatedly to dress warmly as we were going to be outside for the better part of the day and it was going to be very cold. Obviously she didn’t realize with whom she was dealing. We are hearty Canadian girls, you know, unafraid of a little bracing winter air. We don’t have an ingrained paranoia of “catching a chill”. This is not to say that we weren’t armed to the teeth with boots, scarves, mittens, hats and winter coats to make our mothers proud. Apparently our hostess didn’t believe that we were adequately bundled up despite our best efforts and protests. I can assure you that, indeed, we were more than warm enough the entire time.
Mother Nature was on our side as she decided to pull out all the stops and present us with an exquisite day of brilliant sunshine and mild temperature, ensuring that our foray into the forest was magical. Driving to the forest, we had our reservations as to what was to become of us as our driver didn’t speak any English and for that matter, barely spoke to us at all. (Thankfully, a few members of our “gaggle” were fluent in Russian so there were no communication issues at all. I still speak Russian like a two-year-old but at least I can get my basic point across. I’m working on it, I promise.) He turned down what I can only assume is a dirt road during the summer months but was covered in ice and snow for our excursion. The next thing we knew, we found ourselves in a beautiful, tree-lined clearing somewhere in the Russian country-side, far away from any hint of civilization. On the one hand it was paradise, on the other it was slightly spooky. Our driver stopped the van, gestured for us to get out and did not say another word. There we were, five women bundled to the teeth, standing in a clearing awaiting ... well, we weren’t quite sure what we were waiting for but we all snapped an inordinate amount of photos of snow-covered birch and fir trees. After an awkward 10 minutes had passed and the thrill of being in the country-side was beginning to wear thin, our extremities were starting to feel the winter’s chill slowly creep through our gloves and boots. Our driver stood silently and stoically off to the side and watched as we shuffled from one foot to the other, his expression never changing, seemingly chiseled from granite. I wonder what he thought about our little group of nattering hens. Just as tales of bloody horror movie scenes were beginning to creep into our conversations, emerging silently from the trees were two beautiful horses drawing sleighs come to transport us deeper into the woods and on towards our afternoon in the fresh air.
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| I'm not even sure what to say about this... |
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| Анатолий and Сергей or was it Сергей and Анатолий? |
Canadian grrrls kick butt.
Our winter fun didn’t stop there. It was back in to the sleighs for another ride through the forest and back to our clearing for some hot tea made with water heated in a samovar. We participated in a few traditional seasonal activities such as sawing a log with a soviet-era saw, sledding/sliding down a small hill and we played a game that is usually reserved for men but since we didn’t have any around (Сергей and Анатолий had since left to continue their Saturday fun), we got to try our hands at it. The game consisted of two opponents squaring off against each other while standing on an elevated beam, each armed with a straw-filled pillow, trying desperately to knock the other off balance and into the snow. Needless to say that after consuming vodka, whiskey and being drunk on fresh air, our laughter rang through the forest.
Our magical afternoon spent far away from the hustle and bustle of urban life left us refreshed and recharged. Returning by sleigh-ride to the clearing where our van driver waited patiently (or was it stoically?) for us, it was time to leave the peace and quiet of the birch grove and head back to Сергиев Посад for the next chapter in our weekend getaway from the big city.
Our hostess welcomed us back and once we had a chance to shed our heavy duty winter gear and suit up for a walk through the monastery grounds, she sent us on our way with strict instructions to return by 5:30 PM as dinner was to be served then. She originally insisted that we could take as long as we wanted provided that we returned for dinner by 5 PM but we managed to negotiate a 5:30 PM return for dinner, knowing that we did not wish to feel rushed as we toured through the monastery grounds. She promised to talk to us about the monastery and the city history when we returned for dinner.
Since we were way too busy enjoying the food and each other’s company during dinner, our hostess couldn’t get a word in edgewise and she gave up trying.
She did, however, pre-heat the баня for us so we could partake in a traditional Russian activity....at 8 PM sharp! Needless to say , we were ushered out of the dining room and encouraged to change and return to the баня area of the house for our evening’s frolic in the heat and snow.
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| The plunge pool that was darned near freezing! We took our chances with the snow instead. |
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| Boiled wool hat to be worn inside the баня to protect your head. It actually works! |
The Russian баня tradition is that you sit naked in the wood-paneled room until you break a sweat and then you hurl yourself into the snow in order to shock your body into cooling down rapidly - lather, rinse, repeat. Some people self-flagellate with dried birch switches gathered in the summer and dried for use in the winter. We didn’t go quite that far. Regardless, the entire experience was refreshing and rejuvenating. We all opted to cool down using the snow just outside the баня instead of the frigid plunge pool.
We all slept very well that night.
Sunday morning brought another stack o’ blinis and omelets and the lecture we had missed the previous evening. After learning all that we needed to know and more about the history of the city, the monastery and its inner workings, we were once again shuffled upstairs and out the door with strict instructions to be back by a certain time in order to collect our personal belongings and catch the next train out of town and back to Moscow. We were strongly encouraged to leave as soon as we could to visit the monastery grounds as, after all, it was Sunday morning and surely we did not want to miss the services - they end at 11AM. Someone had to keep this unruly bunch of women in line, I guess.
We opted out of the monastery tour having spent the better part of two hours there the previous day and instead headed down main street towards the local history and culture museum for what turned out to be a very engaging and informative visit.
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| papier-mâché figure of a woman in traditional costume |
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| Walrus and mammoth ivory |
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| carved from a single piece of wood |
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| медведь |
The trappings of everyday life.
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| lace-making |
матрешка
After a pizza lunch at a local restaurant we headed back to collect our things, said goodbye to our gracious hostess (who was in the process of welcoming yet another group of snow-pants clad tourists) and headed up the hill to the train station to buy our tickets and enjoy the ride home.
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| Our home away from home for the night. |
Now this is how to keep the train platform clean! Canada could learn a thing or two from these guys.
I have to say that the 130 руб (4.24$ CAD) I spent on my train ticket back to Moscow was the best value for my money ever. As with most trains on fixed schedules, ours pulled into the station precisely on time and waited for no man, woman or child to leave the station in order to keep to the schedule. Not only was there non-stop entertainment - which I will get to later - but the views out of the windows were comforting and familiar. The landscape around the Moscow area is very similar to the one I am used to in Canada with a healthy mix of deciduous and coniferous trees lining the train tracks, wide open spaces covered in snowdrifts as far as the eye can see and дачи (cottages) dappling the landscape in small clusters.
Train etiquette was observed with passengers politely sharing the seating with others and voices kept low in order not to disturb those around you. That is, all but the booth behind us. That booth was filled with six young men drinking квасс (a bread-based, fermented beverage) and having a grand old time. They were obviously old hands at the train game as they spent their time carousing and carrying on, not paying too much attention to the comings and goings of the incessant parade of vendors and passengers in transit. They even stepped out of the car into the in-between platform to have a smoke. How polite, I thought, until I realized that something was awry. All of a sudden two armed guard appeared out of nowhere (and when I say armed guard I do not mean armed with a bb gun or even a hand gun) and blocked the exits on either side of our train car. Luckily the boys were outside having a smoke and then they sort of disappeared. I thought nothing more of it as the fare inspector came by to check our tickets and all was in order. Once the inspection had finished, the guards and the ticket-taker were through with our car so they moved forward to the next cabin. During this time the train had pulled into one of the many interim stops along the way back to Moscow and out of the corner of my eye I saw our six booth companions run along the platform to the car behind us. It took me long enough to realize what they were up to but once I figured it out, I was quite impressed. Instead of paying the 130 руб, these fellows were keeping an eye out and dodging the fare inspector and having a blast while doing it. There is an open platform for passengers to embark on the train and the fare inspector only comes on board at random stops so it is very simple to hop a train and evade the authorities if you’re willing to put up with a bit of a jog. Mr. U assures me that this is quite the local sport. I figure the six guys behind us were definitely medalists. They didn’t break a sweat, stride or even seem remotely worried that they would even get caught.
Awesome.
Socks
Straw slippers
German-made glasses with flexible ear pieces and magnifying lenses
Loofahs and skin scrubbing tools, brooms
Manicure tools, brushes
Musical interlude played on a child’s combination instrument of kazoo/keyboard
Hair bands and scrunchies -she had a microphone and amplifier to help project her voice
Gas fireplace lighters, screen-savers for smartphones
Duobang (I haven’t a clue what a Duobang is)
Freeze-dried sponge, washing bag, Unimax (??), suit bag, pencils and dusting cloths
I was exhausted by the time we reached the final train station in Moscow. I can’t remember when I last giggled for an hour non-stop. My sides were aching.
The metro ride home was a real let-down after the exciting and dynamic train ride back to the city. I’m itching for an excuse to take the train again. I wonder what treasures will be for sale the next time?
Hey there. Love your blog post. I love the image of live infomercials. I can still hear that music and the never ending lyrical sales pitching. Thanks for sharing good memories and super photos.
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