Snowball fights at the DMZ

Humps & me at the DMZ

Up early for a two hour drive south-east to the Korean Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) at the 38th Parallel. The roads were empty of cars, people, and snow. We stopped off en route at a service station, and managed to purchase a very welcome & much needed cup of coffee.

The scenery en route was breathtaking, and my first glimpse of how beautiful this country really was. 

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Below is a tiny bit of historical background on modern day Korea, but I leave this intentionally vague as I'm not a specialist on the subject, or even particularly knowledgeable and definitely don't want to pretend to be.

Korea was occupied by Japan from 1910 until 1945. During the occupation Korea rapidly industrialized, the main beneficiaries of course being the colonial rulers exploiting Korean labour and resources for their gain. Most heavy industry was in the north due to it's lack of arable land, and most agriculture was in the South.  1932 onwards brought stricter governance in which Koreans had to speak Japanese, adopt new Japanese names (1938), and change religions as well as having no political freedoms. The use of 'Comfort Woman' (Korean Sex Slaves used by the Japanese military) is still present day news as last year Japan apologised and agreed to pay compensation to the victims. 

Korea legally gained independence at the Potsdam Declaration in 1945 but was split along the 38th Parallel between the USA & Soviets for administration purposes, with both forces occupying the North and South respectively. However, in 1948 when the Republic of Korea and Democratic People's Republic of Korea were formed it became a de-facto international border. 

According to the history given to us in the DPRK, in 1950 they were invaded by the US imperialist aggressors without warning, starting the Korean War. Most of the sources I have read state that the DPRK, with the backing of China and more specifically Kim Il Sung asking Stalin and the Soviets for their help, actually moved south to invade with the intention of unifying the two Koreas. Active war continued until July 1953 where an armistice (not the end of the war) was signed, and that is the position of the two countries today. 

Currently, despite the DPRK being roughly 1/6th larger than South Korea it has a population of approximately 25 million in comparison to 50 million in the South. In 1948 there were 9 million in the North and 20 million in the South. The South Korean economy experienced rapid economic growth, and went from an incredibly poor country to having the 11th largest economy in the world. The DPRK economy stayed at the same level as the South until the 70's and in 2014 was ranked 114 by the UN. Out of 211, that is a lot higher than I would have expected, but I assume (completely my assumptions only) this is because of the industry/factories along the Chinese border, and their trade/mining agreements with the Chinese.) 

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Upon arrival at the DMZ we were introduced to our guide, an Officer in the KPA (Korean People's Army) who explained to us the map below. The DMZ is 250 km long, and 4 km wide. The hut he points to is on the Northern Side, and was our next destination. 

The inside of the hut

The outside of the hut

After being given a slightly different take on the Korean War from what I previously thought, and that the DPRK had won (obviously) we were taken to the room in which the signing of the Armistice, which had a slightly different, unique North Korean name I had not heard before, that I sadly cannot remember, occurred.

Conor & I sat at the table where the Armistice was signed 

Having only predominately seen photos and footage from the South Korean border I was surprised at how relaxed the atmosphere was on this side. We were able to walk about fairly freely, and there were relatively few guards and officers in comparison. The whole complex is a lot smaller, and felt a lot less armed, though perhaps not the case. Contrary to what we were told by the North Koreans, I do believe they pose much more of a threat of aggression or invasion than the South Koreans, and their main issue would be of people wanting to escape the country, rather than defect from the South, so to me it makes sense that their side seems a little less on constant high alert.

We were taken to the roof to look over the South Korean side, and took group photos, as well as making snow angels and having a large scale snowball fight with our KPA guide. Not exactly what I imagined when I signed up for a trip to visit one of the most militarized and heavily armed borders in the world.

Despite wearing seven layers, we were constantly freezing. Each time Katie & I stepped foot outside one of us would inevitably (hopefully?) remark, 'oh it's not as cold anymore' and before finishing the sentence would be chilled to our bones. How cold can penetrate that many layers of clothes and skin in a split second is a mystery to me. However, in comparison to Pacman and Peso, who only brought dress suits we were probably pretty warm. Though, a couple of the Aussie guys just wore sweaters and seemed fine, so perhaps Katie and I just don't (can't?) do cold. 

Su Young, one of the female guides, told us rather sarcastically, and unsympathetically, 'It's winter. Its cold. It's snowing. Stop dilly dallying.' 

This monument above was erected I believe in memory of the death of Kim Il-Sung. I had to google the date to try and trigger my memory, and as he died on the 8th July 1994 according to my sources, that's probably it. I remember being stood by it, and being told about the height of it, the width of it, and the significance of these figures, but cannot remember, nor particularly wish to remember what they were, and why. 

Over the four days we were told many fairly uninteresting and uninspiring (that I believe were meant to be inspiring) truths, 'facts', figures and explanations. This is hardly unique to the DPRK, but as we were given a speech at each new statue, monument, room, part of a museum, etc, it was pretty full on. I also have no general interest in whether something is the tallest, or biggest. 

I will never forget however just how wise the Leaders all were, and how their expertise spanned a vast number of fields and disciplines and without their strict guidance many projects would have failed, and many factories would not have been built or running successfully. (A little sarcasm there perhaps, but I am paraphrasing what we were told, everywhere we went. I do believe they were all well educated.) 

Remember on school trips when you had to listen, and really wanted to laugh but couldn't. And what you wanted to laugh at wasn't even that funny anyway, which made it funnier. And then your friend keeps looking at you with a funny eye movement, also trying not to laugh, and at one point someone cracks and not laughing is possibly the hardest, and most impressive thing you have ever done? Yeh. That happened. A lot. 

We were of course also told interesting stories, 'facts,' and probably some actual facts too. Many of the speeches were obviously learnt word for word, but past that the guides were also incredibly friendly and open to questions and often interested in asking us questions. 

Buildings, bowing & bowling. First night in the DPRK.

First impressions driving into Pyongyang City; grey and empty.

En route to the city the buildings we passed were on average ten stories high, in a standard issue soviet housing style, usually grey, but occasionally pale green or brighter colours.
We saw very few people, and those we did were generally dressed in grey coats, head down, shuffling forward quickly, as I would do if I was walking home after work, when it's getting dark, in the freezing cold.

I didn't take many photos, as in all honesty I was a little nervous of doing so at first, which you can see emphasised by the crappy, blurry quality of most of the ones I did. 

As we got into the city itself we were greeted with taller and more modern, silver, mirrored buildings, and with a lack of people and atmosphere it reminded me of Canary Wharf on a winter weekend; new, deserted and soulless. Unsurprisingly perhaps since approximately 75% of the city was destroyed during the Korean War by, we were told 420,000 bombs being dropped on it, which also included napalm bombs.

Our car park was overlooked by the two faces of the Eternal leaders

Our first stop was to the Grand Monument on Mansu Hill (Mansudae).  Here stood two 22 metre bronze statues of Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il, the first erected in 1972, the second in 2011. We had been told that at each statue we would be expected to bow to the leaders, and usually in a specific manner, such as being set up in lines and walking in unison. We generally pulled this off as successfully as young primary school kids would, but don't feel we caused any offence by this. The locals seemed to be able to manage what we couldn't and look dignified, walking in unison rather than us, more like herded cattle.

Behind them is Mount Paektu, the highest mountain on the Korean Peninsula

Though it was not compulsory to bow,  aside from at the Mausoleum, we were told to let our Western guides know if we did not wish too do so. As I was there to observe the country and its people, not trying to make any kind of political point or criticise, I was happy enough to bow to the statues.

We were given the opportunity to purchase flowers to pay our respects, but in all honesty I can't remember if Katie & I did or not. (After writing this I added the picture, and can (un)clearly see flowers in Katie's hands, so I guess we did.)

We were told the sweepers were volunteers.

To the sides of the statues were two large monuments in tribute to the Revolutionary Struggle and Socialist Revolution, comprised of workers, peasants, farmers, soldiers, and looked very similar to monuments I had seen in Moscow.










Getting off the bus and just standing in Pyongyang itself was a surreal experience. There were a few locals around us, either just going about their business or also visiting the statue, and I wasn't sure what to expect from them, or what they expected from us. Largely, I felt we went unnoticed by most people on the street, which actually differs greatly from how I usually get stared at in other non Western countries, perhaps merely down to the fact I was bundled up as warm as possible, rather than having my tattoos and piercings on show.

The main exception to this disinterest during our trip was from groups of children, or when we were in closed environments such as restaurants, bars, or on the metro and people were often very keen to engage with us. That said, given that we were on a large square, surrounded by some of the biggest and tallest buildings in the city, there were comparatively very few people about, but it was early evening, so perhaps would have been different a few hours earlier.

Before heading to our hotel we stopped off at a restaurant for dinner and were put in a private room upstairs. A fantastic and varied Korean feast was served, with lots of vegetarian dishes and it was a quiet dinner (the only one of the trip I suppose) making small talk and getting to know each other.

We then headed to our hotel, Yangakdo International, a 30-story hotel located on a small island, that was in fact only slightly bigger than the hotel, and the whole place, was in a word, Grand.

The reception area was huge, but empty. Marble floors, marble desks, marble walls. There was a small aquarium tank with a large sea turtle that we genuinely thought was dead, and assumed had committed suicide. Sadly, I suppose, we found out a day or so later it was alive.

We checked in, were told not to visit the infamous mystery 5th floor, which I believe is where Otto Warmbier stole the poster from, and subsquently sentenced to 15 years hard labour. There were 800 rooms, and I was told in peak season it was fully booked. Aside from our group there didn't seem to be many more guests, and those there were were all of Asian ethnicity, and were staying on different floors, which appeared not to have working lights in the corridors, unlike ours.


The group met for a few drinks at the bar, then went for more at the Bowling Alley. The pins were held up by strings, and despite not once knocking all of them down, I was consistently bowling strikes. I liked to think that Kim Il-Sung was looking down favourably at me. We were also joined by one of the hotel waitresses who was pretty shit hot at bowling.

We finished up the night rather late in the Karaoke Room. I was genuinely surprised at how openly we could talk, and wasn't at all expecting a late night partying, but it set the precedent for the rest of the trip.

Democratic People's Republic of Korea. Part 1.

It’s been almost three years since I went to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK) and as I still get asked about it frequently I thought I should finally get around to writing about the trip. And hopefully, at some point in the not too distant future politically, economically and socially it will be very different to how it was then, and even how it is now, as it has already changed, and sadly, I think, not for the better. 

So, how was it? The first word that comes into my mind when I’m asked that, genuinely is fun. I think this comes to the forefront of my mind as it was one thing I didn’t expect this tour to be. Interesting, educational, different, somber, and at times dull, but not fun. Given the recent attention a YouTube Vlogger got for showing a very one sided rich, privileged, party version of the country I was unsure whether to write that, but, it's the truth. It was of course, so, so much more than that, and in no way did the fact I laughed a lot change my opinion on the political leadership. Cold also comes to the forefront of my mind.  It was so very, very cold. 

A visit to the DPRK was on the top of my list of places to visit for years. I almost went in 2004, thanks to finding out I had been forced to 'save' by the UK Government as they'd placed me on an emergency tax code, but opted for a 10 week trip around South East Asia instead. After all this time, despite the usual warnings to be careful, I think family and friends had come round to the fact I was actually going, and that was okay. 

The most frequently asked question I received was ‘why are you going?’ usually followed by comments or questions on whether it is morally right to go to a country led by a dictator. The answer to ‘why', in its simplest form is that the easiest way to learn about a country, culture, social norms, and its past and present, is to visit it. The same history I read about imprints in my mind better if I've been. I start to be able to actually differentiate places, leaders, wars, significant events. And as one of the most closed off countries in the world, the mystery and lack of understanding is even greater.

I mentioned in my Moscow ramblings that I've started to want to have my opinions and expectations challenged, and happy to be disproved and educated, which, if I'm being truthful is probably a little different to my teenage self!  The more I feel I know, the more I realise how little I actually know, and how what I think I know (phew!) tends to stem from specific viewpoints under the influence of my friends, social circle, western media, western governments, and so the best way to be a little more educated is to go see for myself with an open mind. 

"Ahh, but in North Korea they only show you what they want you to see!’ 

To a certain extent, yes of course this is true. It is a very closed, controlled, hugely poor society. Though I knew we would be restricted in what we could see, I didn’t believe that the regime would employ actors on the street, the metro, or in the schools for our benefit. There ARE people in the country; they have jobs, and move from place to place. They don’t need to employ people to show this! Kim Jong Un I believe, as demonstrated in his actions and speech, doesn’t care too much what the Western leaders think, let alone a random mishmash of foreign tourists. We came across a couple from the ex-USSR who said that for them it was strange being on the other side, as they remember being the children dancing for Western tourists decades ago. 

As for the moral question - there are many, many, ‘normal’ holiday destinations built on modern slavery, with corrupt governments and appalling human rights records, that no one ever questions. Don’t judge me, and I won’t judge you. 

Katie and I went with Young Pioneer Tours and the visa process was incredibly simple. One A4 page to fill in, a couple of photos, and that was it. Katie, a freelance documentary film-maker was asked a few more questions, but there were no issues. Getting the visa for China was much more complicated and time consuming. 

We turned up at the airport extremely excited, with all pre trip nerves quashed the day before thanks to a really informative, reassuring and fun prep meeting.

On the plane I spoke to a Singaporean gentleman who worked for a fast food franchise (phonetically  pronounced Sam Tai Song) he had helped open in the DPRK. This came as a surprise to me as I didn't think that would even be possible. He was off to a conference and this was his 15th visit. He was even trying to get Air Koryo to serve his burgers, which he said tasted much better. Looking at Katie's I didn't think this would be difficult. 

The only difference to arriving at Pyongyang airport over any other small non English speaking airport was my the constant loudspeaker in my head shouting 'Oh my god, you are in North Korea!!!! WTF' I had to declare my three phones (yes, I had three), with no issue, had them handed back, and was waved through pretty quickly. 

We then split into two groups and headed straight off to the city in our tour bus. We were escorted by one YPT guide, Troy (who is a co-owner of the company) and three guides from KITC (DPRK Tour Agency) Pak Sul Yung, Tzu Huk Yung (excuse the spelling) and Mr Lim alongside our driver, Mr Pak and we also had a camera man, who we initially, but  falsely assumed was recording us on behalf of the DPRK Government. There were around 20 people in each of our two groups, ages ranging between 18 and (at a guess...) 50/60 comprising of Australians, Kiwis, Americans, Canadians, Italians, French, German, Dutch and us Brits. 

Also with us were two rappers from the USA; Pacman & Peso. The account of their trip told to The Guardian is here: We made it out... We beat the odds! It's not one I recognise. The article adheres to the usual sensationalist reporting; unjustified speculative commentary on what people are thinking or doing, sinister music in the background, and so on. It’s an incredibly interesting and complex country, it doesn’t need sensationalising! Now that I have been in some of these places I see in documentaries, in the exact same situations, I feel I have a better grasp of how truthful their portrayals are. For clarity, I don't mean the country overall, or their take on the political situation, just specific events and locations. I certainly don't feel Pacman and Peso 'beat the odds' by making it out alive. There was not one point where I felt unsafe, or less than incredibly well looked after. 

We were reminded of the do's and don'ts, most of which were fairly obvious, being respectful and not taking photos of military personal, military buildings or or any close ups of people without asking permission first. Not to wander off alone. A few additional ones such as not folding any papers or magazines that had photos of the Kim's on; these were to be kept flat or rolled up. We were also told that when taking any photo of the Kim's (such as a statue or mural) to ensure we had the whole body or mural in the frame. 

And here endeth part one. 

OH, THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

'Trip of a lifetime. Part III'

The last time I 'travelled' (holidayed) for this long I was aged 18, 12 years ago. We booked our plane tickets through a specialist South American travel agent landing into Santiago, Chile, and then out of Caracas, Venezuela, six months later. I didn't plan on taking a Gap Yah but decided, sat on my own on a plane, still pissed, on my way back from Tenerife that I didn't really feel like going to Uni in September. I also decided I wanted to see piranhas in the Amazon and managed to find someone that wanted to do the same... got myself a temp job at Network Rail, and saved.

Aside from the BA travel clinics list of jabs and pills I needed, buying a shoestring guide to South America, a couple of rolls of film, and making six mix tapes, I pretty much planned and prepared nothing. Shoved my backpack full of 'travellers' clothes that I would never normally wear outside the house; a Tintin in Tibet t-shirt and hot pink yoga pants spring to mind, not realising I should have packed things I like to wear... 

Possibly the worst picture ever taken of myself.
Sadly not sporting my Tintin in Tibet T-shirt.

But it was easy. My parents still lived in Hong Kong so I'd already said my goodbyes at Christmas months before and I just turned up to meet my travel buddy at the airport on my own via the now defunct A2 bus from Queensway. 

This time: Forget the full time job of eight years to wrap up, or needing to put all my belongings in boxes for storage, but the effort of preparing what to take and booking where to stay. The internet existed when I was in South America, but no one pre booked anything. We turned up in Cusco to hike the Inca trail the day before setting off, and with our student card booked the four day hike for less than U$100. (I do actually believe the present restrictions are better... But glad I did it before. Hypocrisy hey?) Some of the preplanning was necessary just due to my first month having pretty tight time schedules with Suzy joining me for the first two weeks, the DRPK tour and getting to NZ in time for Christmas without costing my entire trips budget. 

This time, my preparation involved; 

Getting a kindle (in the end borrowed off my fabulous dad) and spending hours and hours deciding what books to out on kindle. 

Deciding what tablet to buy to keep in touch with everyone... And then spending ages working out how to use it and downloading apps on it.

Buying a new iPod and filling up new iPod with 6 months worth of music. YouTube hardcore and country mixes no longer available to me. (Stretching the truth on this one, I was waiting to finish work to do this as the kind folks were giving me one as a leaving present... I hoped.)

I bought a spare camera battery and lens cap only to decide that after 15 years of owning a pretty decent SLR (film and then digital) and always meaning to 'learn how to use it' I clearly wasn't going to. Why bring the extra bulk? I also didn't want to be one of those shit but takes awesome(ish) pictures because I got an expensive camera photographers and to be honest, feel like a bit of a wanker for parading round with one and knowing nothing about it. Time now spent buying new small compact camera. 

Changed my phone contract to pay as you go (more of a pain than it sounds, because, you know, they didn't do anything they were supposed to, a few times.) 

Got to love getting away from all the hassle and technology... Still, of course all the stress, packing up, and preparation was worth it. Just some of my thoughts whilst I'm sat waiting in Mandalay airport on my 31st Birthday, my third visit here in five days due to our plane diverting after one of the engines failed and the other one started overheating... 

Thanks Rambu <3

Communist Theme Parks, Street Beers & Chicken Goblet Men.

I left J & N and headed over to VVT Park, formally VDNKh; ‘the Exhibition of National Economic Achievement.’ I was told I’d find it interesting as it was full of old Soviet statues. It also houses the 'infamous' (as I'd read) ‘worker and collective farm girl' statue, which I actually never managed to find despite it being seemingly obvious on my map and I walked around the small park area again, and again, and again. After an hour I was done taking photos of the ‘fallen heroes’ and wondering what to do with my time, when I realised I had not even entered the main park. This place was huge. I made my way past the Peruvian panpipe band and the Memorial Museum of Cosmonautics (Space Museum to you and I...) and then tried in vain to order a coffee from the coffee van man. 

After ten minutes of queuing;
'Coffee?'
'Huh?' 
'Cafe? (pointing at a cup and then a random menu item, I didn't really care what kind of coffee he gave me.) 
'Huh?' 
(Passer by in Russian) 'Hey, do you want a coffee?'        
'Yes Please'
*Exchange in Russian* 'He says he has run out of coffee.' 
He then turns to me shaking his head 'No coffee.'
Lost in translation.. or he just didn't like me...?

Before entering the park I noticed a line of (predominately) old ladies each holding a couple of kittens or puppies. My surprised guess was an outdoor pet shop, which later Nastya confirmed with a shrug. I explained this was not a usual site for me. I suppose it’s like the lepers on the overpasses in Hong Kong; you just get used to it and walk on by.

I walked through the grand entrance arch and headed straight to the rollercoaster.  They don’t generally phase me, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a point on this ride I thought my untimely death would be caused by flying off a track in a cart, smooshed onto the concrete.

The park itself seemed very confused, but fascinating; like a living history museum. The architectural grandeur of the decadent pavilions and fountains looked more like they belonged in Ancient Rome or Greece rather than a Soviet Republic. Originally built to showcase various exhibitions encapturing Soviet Greatness they are now rented to a mishmash of upmarket shops and cafes, as well as some pavilions giving off a more flea market type impression.
Part amusement park, part art gallery, musical venue and shopping centre; was definitely worth a visit.  I also could have taken a camel ride, but decided to pass.Viva Communism?

The view from my port-a-loo

I then headed back to town to watch Arsenal and drink beer. My happiness of winning was shortlived when I started to get concerned that my foot-cahaffuer to Jenya's gig, Nastya still hadn’t shown. Concerns not helped by dropping and breaking my phone... concerns that were helped by the lovely non-English speaking bar staff who gave me free wifi on my iPod and free-on-fire shots of god knows what (think Absinthe played a part in there.. I also vaguely remember some small kumquat type fruit that I was sure was inediable. Of course I ate it. It was odd.) Joined an hour later when my guide woke from her ‘5 minute’ nap and rushed down to pick me up ;)

  

It was International Record Store day so Jenya’s band were playing in the record room in the back of an independent book store. It was amazing watching a hardcore band in a cramped room with people moshing over the shelves and tables of records. I also enjoyed laughing at the punk getting pissed off people were disturbing him whilst he was looking at the records. Umm. Maybe come back tomorrow mate?
Afterwards I met some other non-Muscavite English speakers (one, affectionately known  in my head as ‘American guy.’ Later I found out he knew me as ‘British girl.’) We headed to a local park to spend the rest of the evening drinking street beers & wine until the early hours of the morning.  Nastya and her mates constantly feeding me snacks as ‘she doesn’t eat in Moscow.’ My last memory of the night was Jenya upside down with his head in a bin.

On my final day (the day of feasting!) I was determined (still drunk) to get a proper breakfast. This ended up being a pasta dish in an upmarket Italian chain that was apparently the only place one of Nastya’s mates would eat out, so at a stretch I could say I was getting a real Muscavite experience.. maybe…?

Despite Nastya texting me to dress properly as the weather had turned (and I’d been cold the night before the beer blanket kicked in) I was, to anyone that knows me, unsurprisingly underdressed. Hoorah for her spare socks. We met outside Lenin’s Library and spent the next few hours walking around the Kremlin complex, going in and out of the various churches. It wasn’t until I’d got home did I find out I’d been there before.  We laughed. A lot.  Who would have thought the Kremlin would have been so amusing. Our favourite piece, (even beating painting after painting of Russian Beauties ‘did they actually look like that? With melty faces?’) was the chicken man goblet. One day I shall own one such trinket.

Jenya had been raving about this Hare Krishna Vegetarian Restaurant for the last couple of days, but not being the biggest fan of either Krishna consciousness or  Indian food I was actually slightly reluctant to go. Hoorah for my British manners and not wanting to appear rude or ungrateful to my incredible hosts. What I had really been after was some Eastern European food, and this place had loads of it. Of the vegetarian and vegan variety. It was food heaven for me. Incredible.

(Side note: I am slowly starting to really love Indian food thanks to places such as Open House and Haandi in Nairobi,  and my due to my colleague who feeds me incredible homemade Indian food on a regular basis.)

Leaving Moscow and saying bye to Nastya left me feeling pretty sad. In the last couple of days I’d rediscovered a lot of my independence and met some incredible people, on my own, doing what I wanted with no-one propping me up (if you don’t count Humpty or my Dr. S bible.) I was eternally grateful to that little voice in my head that made me book that flight to Moscow back in January. And to me, for being me, saying ‘well why the hell not?’ 

Detonating a Nuclear Bomb

Waking up late and hungover, I sprinted to meet Nastya and Jenya at Pain De Quotient for my plat de jour before heading into the Special Secret Soviet Nuclear Bunker 42.
I love guides who are insatiably fascinated by the subject of their tour, and in this instance he seemed bordering on obsessive.  As well as adding comedic value, his fevourish love of the Special Secret Nuclear Bunker, now to be referred to as the SSSNB, seemed to fit perfectly with a tour around a Soviet era construction.                                          

A 'little' apprehensive due to being mildly claustrophobic we descended 65 metres down a narrow, steep staircase.  When we reached the bottom our nuclear-bunker-pride guide discovered that one of our party hadn’t yet purchased a ticket. How we all laughed when the guide said back up the stairs to the ticket booth for him. How he stopped laughing when he realised the guide was being serious. Built in the 50’s, it was home to 2,500 workers (a large percentage being telephone operators) for the next few decades as a ‘nuclear attack sanctuary.’

We were guided through the narrow passages of the SSSNB, and shown the entrances linked to the Metro system, which I found strangely fascinating. We got to play dress up in Soviet army gear complete with AK 47’s. Perhaps my favourite, and most definitely the guide’s part of the tour; blowing up a Nuclear Bomb in the SSSNB. The guide and I were both sat at a computer, listening to commands from our superiors (he was mine from) that ultimately ended up in us pressing a button that dropped a Nuclear Bomb on civilians. Whilst he was excited and enthusiastic about this act, I sat there with a dropped jaw staring at the screen above that was showing a mix of terrified humans and the aftermath of my actions. I did however enjoy sporting the Soviet hat. At the end of the tour we were shown the area you could rent out for parties and conferences. Capitalism eh?

Getting lost in Moscow Part 2

Moscow City HC

After a whole day and a half by myself I was looking forward to drinks with my mate Sheep's good friend who he'd met living in Moscow years before. I had hours to kill, so decided to take a slow walk back to the hostel via Gorky Park.

What I thought I would experience: 80s fun fair with cheap tasty snacks and beer in the sunshine. People watching.


In reality I experienced : Seeing a space ship by the side of the river. An overpriced packed Italian restaurant where I got a table and a large glass of wine  thanks to the incredibly nice staff that seemed to take pity on me.

Then walked around the more 'park' part of the park, and watched people posing, skating, breakdancing and queued for 20 minutes for a corn-on-the-cob (best snack food ever in foreign countries.) My aim was to head back to the hostel, probably a 20 minute walk... 30 minutes at best..? 

3 hours later, almost in tears due to tiredness and sore feet, which had lead to indecisiveness and backtracking I was still not at the hostel. Being determined to walk rather then use the metro was not a wise move. Still, on the way I'd seen the Peter the Great Statue, which has been voted 10th ugliest by a travel forum. I was told they tried to move it to St Petersburg in 2010, but the city didn't want it. The tour guide actually told me as well it was given as a gift to the Dutch but they sent it back. Perhaps an urban myth? Still, I thought it was cool. All 98 metres of it. Other highlights ('features') of my walk...

* Stumbling into a Soviet Statue Art Exhibition

* Seeing the padlock trees and wondering if they come and break them when they get divorced (just my state of mind at the time..)

* Watching the hippie types in a park (who knows what park. I was lost. L.O.S.T.) breathing fire and walking on tightropes between the trees.

* Seeing the Red Square in the evening.

and finally... getting back to the hostel, and having a beer. Lying on my bed, drinking my beer. No shoes on, no pain, drinking beer. 

After a bit of rest and a few beers I met Jenya and his girlfriend Nastya and saw a few sights (such as the Pussy Riot Church...), hit a few bars and had an amazing night with great, friendly people. By this point I was very very very much liking Moscow.