The Cows of Gunib
Ah the cows! The bus on the way in to Gunib got stuck twice in tunnels by sheltering cows, and that was only start. They were everywhere, on the square, along the side-streets, hiding in sheds and of course in the hills overlooking the town. Always happily chewing and always seemingly ownerless.
Cows are more clever than we think. On one of our hikes we met the town shepherd and he explained. Every morning he gathers the cows from people's gardens and brings them up to the mountain grass. As evening approaches he brings them back down, but at the town gates he leaves the cows and goes...
Dagestan
When I finally got my passport on Friday I went straight to the train station and found that every single train South was booked up, so I bought a ticket to Samara. I've done a lot of foolish things but this really was absurd, I arrived in Samara with no idea what of what there was to see, and no particular wish to see it. I sat in a park for 2 hours eating chicken pie then went back to the station and bought a ticket to Saratov.
The train to Saratov was great craic, I'll write about it when I have more time. Spent the night in Saratov waiting hall then got the morning train to...
My Bureaucratic Nightmare
You can get an exit-visa in a week, but it's recommended that you allow two weeks, just in case it's delayed. Three and a half weeks ago I handed my passport in for said visa, so that I'd be able to go travelling at the beginning of June - needless to say I'm still in Moscow waiting for it.
Last Friday I started to get annoyed about it, but good oul Nina in the institute promised me that by Monday I'd have my passport back. On Monday she told me I'd get it on Tuesday. On Tuesday, she wasn't in, but good oul Sasha was there for her, and he explained that at the at the very earliest I'd get my...
A pleasant entry
They turned off our hot water. It happens every summer for about three weeks. In theory the plan is that every summer they check to make sure the entire heating system is fully functional so that during the harsh winter nothing will break. In practice, the entire workforce at the waterworks turns everything off and heads down to the Crimea for a bit of sun, while the hoi polloi of Moscow smell that little bit worse than usual.
I am no such pleb! I washed in a cooking pot instead, a nice big yellow one with flowers on it, usually confined to the drudgery of borsch or onion soup. A remarkably...
