Ok...recaping from the seedy internet cafe in Moscow...

We departed the internet cafe in an old russian elevator that may have served as a dumb-waiter in earlier centuries. It was the size of a rabit cage and covered in luscious woodgrain, just like the rankarina television (maybe its birthplace). The steel gates slammed shut, the elevator descended. Then the bloody thing started slapping side to side and dropped two feet in a mighty crash. The cable must of broke! Thankfully we were almost at earth level.

That's my introduction. Just a bit of hype before I write about my nomadic experience with russian heevans in the BUNYA.

After the internet cafe we headed to the local Bunya. The girls departed the group first, before myself and two other Bunyips entered the male section. Above the doors was a blow-up naked man with a cactus leaf in each hand and a face that was as red as a monkey's arse. Not the welcoming we were after but it was funny.

Our guide left us (presumably as she was female), stuck in a corridor of roman tiles and no comprehension of what to do. We followed a long corridor into a large pizza-hut dining lounge (seriously, it looked quite similar). No baymarie or dessert bar, just 35 greazy eyeballs locked on our position (for those who did the calculation, one guy had one eye). We were thrown table cloths and pointed to an open area. Apparently to get our kit off and prance around in a thin table cloth.

So we have the table cloth on, yes, free as the wind blows. Confused and nervious of the Bunya protocol. Following some naked men (the first and last time for the record), we entered a large white tiled room filled with tables, pools, showers and sausage deli. This room was filled with naked old men (some were escaped gorillas) getting rubbed down in mud, slapped by vines in this unusual social environment.

Hmmmm...."do has the romans do" they say.

First we had to assess the situation without appearing like perverts in a red-light bar. Vines, sauna, pool, rub down. Easy three items to remember. The forth item is just plain forbidden.

Grabed a bunch of dried vines. Dropped the grandma-looking tablecloth. Entered the sauna.

The sauna was hotter than hot sand at St Kilda beach, the pins
(syringes) and needles (more syringes) remain the same from the immense heat. Absolutly starkers and sweating like a big fat bacon producing pig. Everyone inside was slapping themselves and others with vines from head to toe. We followed, pretending that this was second nature.

The heat got unbareable, and the wip marks were showing. This indicated our quick departure. Leaving the sauna, we quickly jumped into a green pool that was absolutely freeeeeeezing. But was once a kabana, immediately turned into a cocktail frankfurt. It was actually humiliating to step out of the pool.

We repeated these steps about 10 to 15 times or until I realised that pubic hairs were floating on the surface of the water. I'm still dry-reaching. But skin feels like a babies bottom on a pampa's nappy ad, and probably smells very alike.

Left the sauna to the Bolshoi. Moscow's famous ballet performance. Tight tights and gay people frolocking like Bambi was really not my thing. But to experience Russia's oldest theature was great.

After, we had dinner and drinks at a uni pub/cafe. Our tour leader got drunk and picked up (she's only 19, bless her). She eventually left (no not with the lucky guy) but with the two geeks in our group back to the hotel. We were left in the centre of Moscow with a drunken russian message to show a poor innocent taxi driver our home.

Many drinks and laughs later, 3am the joint closed. Hungry for macca's, we walked for at least an hour to find that two 24hr maccas have shut. I know it doesn't make sense. Between the hours of 3am and 4am, they must shut their tills by law.

Now the seal needed to be broken and there were no public toilets in sight. So...(sorry mum)...the girls stood around, back facing me as I pissed in clouds of steam on some steps.

These weren't ordinary steps. Behind me was a big statue of Stalin on a horse, the Kremlin and St Basils Russian orthodox church. All national icons of Russia.

Hmmmmm...I was pissing in red square.

All I can say is that thankfully my jewels are still attached and my heart is still beating. I would hate to think of the consequences if I got caught.

The rest of the time in Moscow was spent at various other landmarks. One the Moscow circus which is a permanent event every night. Still in 80's outfits and performing to the greatest hits album from KISS. It was sad.

Overnight train to Saint Petersburg the conclusion of the Vodkatrain. Saint Petersburg is a beautiful city, I reckon the same level as Paris. It's built on a heap of islands and at 3am to 6am, all bridges open for the ships. Leave late from the pub, and it's a bloody long wait in arctic weather. No stories to report on here.

Saw the sights and drank. One night after the pub, we hailed a canal boat pumping tunes from the Coyote Ugly soundtrack. With a flash of cold hard cash (literally COLD HARD cash) we were on board touring St Petersburg from waters edge late at night. Poor taste in tunes though.

Today we visited the museam of curiosity. It was founded in the 17th century by Peter the Great who had a fetish in deformaties. The place was full of still-born featuses with ugly birth defects and weired monster looking animals. Sick b******.

Tonight is the overnight train back to Moscow. One day there before the flight to London.

Time is running out again. I'll write more when I get to the UK.

Thanks for your emails, its good to hear your news. Hope everyone's ok.

cheers,
Hatton.