Monday 27 April 2015

Day 209: A night of the ninth

The rocking and rolling that put me to sleep last night woke me up this morning at about 5.30am Moscow time. The trans-Siberian operates under a slightly odd system – the trains don't run on local time, they run on Moscow time. The difference between these two times increases by roughly an hour a day, and when you keep getting off the train, this can make things confusing, both for your conscious mind and for your unconscious body clock. Our travel agent has helpfully converted everything to local time on our itinerary, making it less likely that we'll miss our train when leaving a city, but unhelpfully haven't included the Moscow times, making it a bit trickier to figure out when to get up in the morning to make sure we're ready to get off at our stop. Luckily today's train arrived in the city of Perm at about 9.30am Moscow time (11.30am local time), so we had plenty of to get ready to get off. 


Kate woke up a bit later, and when the girls awoke – quite a bit later - we started to organise breakfast. The trains on the trans-Siberian helpfully come with an urn at the end of each carriage, where you can help yourself to hot water. We had come prepared with packets of cup-a-soup and cup-a-porridge (back in Winchester we had a taste-testing lunch, where we tried about six different types of soup, each giving them a rating so we knew who liked what), and this morning we broke them out for the first time – (lumpy) porridge for Kate and Zoe, and soup and rye crackers for Zoe and I.

A light rain was falling when we got off the train in Perm. It was on the cold side – about 6C – and we could see our breath as we trudged down to the bus stop, wandered from shelter to shelter trying to figure out where the number 68 left from and then settled in to wait the 15 or so minutes until it arrived. When it finally pulled up, we joined the rush to jump on, Kate and I making a pile of bags near the middle door and the girls heading up to the back seats. When the conductor came around, we showed her our map and managed to get her to understand that we needed her to tell us when to get off. At each stop, the bus got more and more packed, to the point where Kate and I were eventually crushed against the windows. The girls got up and joined us and then finally, the conductor indicated that it was time for us to get off. This was easier said than done and we had to force our way through the crush, the conductor loudly exhorting people to let us off.


Out on the pavement, we caught our breath and gathered our thoughts and then headed off in the direction that our rudimentary map suggested would lead to our hotel. After a few wrong turns, we duly found it and checked in, the receptionist sitting Kate in front of her computer and using Google Translate to explain the ins and outs. We then headed out into what was now a rather heavier rain. We were looking for the Perm Opera and Ballet Theatre, where we needed to pick up our tickets for tonight's performance of Beethoven's 9th, but spied an outlet of a local fast food chain and decided to stop for some lunch. It was a cafeteria-style place, a popular type of restaurant in Russia, and a handy one for us as it means that you can just point at what you want rather than having to actually ask for something off a menu that you can't read anyway. The prices were extremely reasonable and our trays of dumplings, pancakes and potatoes came to a grand total of about £5. The food was tasty and filling, but not quite filling enough, so we went back for seconds. 



Back outside, we quickly found the concert hall but it was all locked up. Thankfully, a helpful woman sheltering from the rain pointed us to the ticket office around the corner, where we met up with the lovely Olga, with whom Kate had been corresponding from Winchester and who sorted us out with our tickets (which cost 600 roubles each – about £8). We then had a bit of wander around Perm – down to the Kama River, which runs through the city and to a lovely wine shop, where we bought a cheap bottle of Italian wine for tomorrow night's dinner on the train. We then began what turned out to be a rather long and frustrating search for a coffee, eventually ending up in a very trendy bar located across the road from our lunch restaurant. 




After a bit of a rest at the hotel, we got dressed up in what passes as our best outfits and headed back to the concert hall, which was now buzzing with patrons. We found our seats – high up on a balcony with a passable view of the orchestra and settled in to wait for the concert. The hall was fairly small, but quite ornate – all red velvet, grand staircases and big chandeliers – and the orchestra was correspondingly compact, but the acoustics were good and when the chorus got going it made quite a racket. The Japanese conductor, who was making his first visit to Russia, was wonderfully expressive and both the orchestra and the chorus were extremely good. All in all, the performance was absolutely sublime. The girls loved it – Kate and I were a bit worried at first as it looked as though they might fall asleep, but the last movement woke them up and they couldn't help but be impressed by the singing. We left the hall buzzing and after stopping for photos with a big statue of Lenin, we made our way back to the bar that we had visited earlier, where Kate and I had an absolutely dire glass of white wine each. 
 





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