An hour and ten minutes doing a journey from the centre which, at its very best, takes about twelve minutes and on average, twenty-five. You’d think the Russians would have the whole business of winter under control. You’d think they would be vaguely aware that around this time of year, the snow falls and that when it does, it’s a good idea to slow down just a little below maniacal speeds and thread one’s way through the traffic patiently.
Not a bit of it. I glanced out of the Ministry window about 6 p.m. and it was come down like confetti at long last, after weeks of nothing. Of course it was going to be dangerous going home – light flaky snow on top of slush and ice. Of course cars were going to slide everywhere as the temperature dipped.
And slide they did – straight into each other like billiard balls. All routes jammed, accidents everywhere, even on the escape routes people took – total gridlock. Police all over the place, horns blaring, people shouting and the prospect of two hours on the roads with an overheating car. Cars running out of fuel and refilling from bottles.
So here we finally are and at least the room is warm and dry.
James, you must admit though, the Russians do have the best past time during a blizzard (when everything is shutdown). That past time is drinking vodka.
ReplyDeleteKristalnaya - it's a nice drop. Seriously, though, it really does help you through the cold and keeps all sorts of nasties away - they can't live inside you. A sober man is a dead man.
ReplyDeleteI like that - "a sober man is a dead man". Yes, I always thought Russians knew how to cope with their cold winters and were not like us Brits, always caught out by the snow! That's a lovely photo, by the way.
ReplyDeletekeeps all sorts of nasties away
ReplyDeleteI never have quite summoned up the courage for my mother-in-law's suggested cold remedy: one part paprika to one part vodka. On the other hand, I recall enjoying the suggested mix of vodka, honey and lemon as a flu cure, and didn't feel in the slightest as though I'd missed out when I learned I'd been supposed to take all the above in tea...
On the third hand, the second-worst hangover I ever had in my life I owe to some Ukrainian honey vodka. As it went down - and, oh, how it went down - it tasted like Buttercup syrup.
Since youask, the very worst hangover I ever had was from a bottle of 96% spirt I brought back from Leningrad in 1991. Not realising that the Russians cut it down to 50% or so, we drank it neat, при чём не закусивая... <sips darjeeling>
Now you and I, Ian, must have a little chat about your Eastern European experiences. Thanks, Matt and WCL.
ReplyDelete