It’s high time to blog about my holiday in Russia, I think! Most of you will only be interested in the pictures, of course 
which are now live in the gallery, so go check ’em out.
And now a short(ish – I’ll try my best) diary of some of my holiday highlights and the occasional not-so-highlight:
Saturday
Flew to Moscow, and was highly amused and a little worried by the applause when the plane landed safely. Arrived at our ginormous hotel – with 25 floors and space for 3000 guests – and discovered for the first and not the last time that Russian food is not known for its glamour.
Sunday
City tour of Moscow! Though it rained a lot, and was cold, we still saw lots of cool things like Red Square, St Basil’s Cathedral and the outside of Lenin’s tomb. Mum bought socks for her poor wet feet.
Monday
We toured the Metro system – and yes, I do mean toured – because it’s incredibly artistic and beautiful in some of the stations, filled with socialist paintings of the happy happy Soviet workers in their happy happy (former) country. The Metro itself is brilliantly functional by the way – trains are advertised as coming every 3 minutes but in practice it seems even quicker, putting London rather to shame. Later we braved the fortress of the Kremlin.
Tuesday
Visited a monastery out of town, and saw a monk on a mobile. In the bus on the way, our guide told us about life in the Soviet union, and the day she became friends with a girl whose grandfather had been in the Politburo and had enjoyed an equal life slightly more equal than her equal life. We also learnt that after the collapse of the USSR you could purchase the flat you’d been living in for a minimal amount, but lost most of your money. That night we saw a Russian show and then caught the overnight train to St. Petersburg which was very exciting, and I’m now demanding that Virgin add little two-person cabins with beds to their routes immediately.
Wednesday
Arrived in St. Petersburg, toured the slightly more European city (though Moscow was already very ‘Western’), checked into the new hotel and grabbed a bite to eat. I had a hamburger. It was delicious. Toward the end of the day, however, the cost-benefit analysis of eating a delicious hamburger became clear as I started to feel ill, culminating in a bit of a bad night and…
Thursday (AKA ‘Bad Day’)
I stayed in my room all day on my own with food poisoning and a headache. If I was forced at gunpoint to rate the days in order, I’m pretty sure this would be fairly low down.
Friday
Happiness and smiles people – today made up for the bad day! We visited a palace with stunning rooms, gardens and fountains, where (hilariously) a two-man band decided to play the British national anthem followed by Greensleeves for us as we got off the bus. On our return mother and I were sitting around in the hotel lobby having a drink when we suddenly decided to head for the Hermitage. This is an amazing art collection, bursting to the seams with Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet, Matisse, Leonardo da Vinci… basically everyone, ever. Whilst mum’s tour on Thursday had only covered a tiny portion of it, today we had under an hour to run through room after room of French impressionist painting which was slightly funny in its own right.
Saturday
Surely, Saturday might occupy some high position in the gallery of crazy days. Waking up at 3.30 in the morning UK time, we flew home into Heathrow. Dad met us at the airport and drove us home where our road had chosen today to hold a street party, so everything was alive with children, food and flags. I only had a few hours to bask in this novelty of community before re-packing and setting off for Lucy’s 18th birthday gathering (happy birthday for today!), bumping into Rishal and Manoj on the way to the Tube station. So, Russia -> London -> Birmingham in one day of travelling! Lovely evening though 
and it was great to see certain people again after too long.
Phew! OK, if you’re still reading, bear with me because I’m almost done. I’m now at my aunt’s house for three days whilst she’s away and builders are in, which is a nice foreshadowing of living alone at uni I guess. Which is… less than two weeks away now! Wow! I’ve just managed to join Facebook in preparation, so come and and add me as your friend and we’ll bake some Facebook cakes together or something, yeah?
(Oh, and I almost forgot… I saw Knocked Up on Sunday. Good!)
Hallowed gig ticket
To be honest, I didn’t really expect Regina Spektor to be anything other than amazing live, and she didn’t disappoint. Lucy’s birthday present to me was also my first gig, excluding classical concerts (What? Don’t look at me like that, I’ve been to more Doctor Who Exhibitions than the lot of you put together…) So I had a great time, and felt compelled to buy a t-shirt, though decided the traditional black concert t-shirts didn’t quite do it for me, so got a possibly-meant-for-girls one in large size and have been busy stretching it out ever since hurrah! For those of you wondering, the support act was.. urm.. a Canadian man playing a ukulele* and no, I don’t have a favourite song – because they’re all so good – but Better is the one that sticks in my head at the moment.
I’m off on holiday to Russia for a week with mother tomorrow, so forgive a bit of a scattergun post. First up: Tasha got A*s and As in the first of her GCSE TripSci** results – congratulations! Meanwhile, Katie has drawn Mr Moore as one of her English teachers this year – Tash and I are both already big fans – so that was a lucky break for her, though I do feel for him having to teach yet another of us.
On the uni front, I’ve got an ever expanding list of things I must get done before I go. After confirming with my college father*** that it’s still the in-thing, I’ve decided I’m going to have to join Facebook, although deep down these social networks can be a drag when you want to do your own thing, on your own blog, within your own control. I’m sure I’ll still be overwhelmed with enthusiasm for it anyway I’ve also decided to get a digital camera for myself so I can take some more beautiful photos of drunken party antics etc. And thanks to all that waded in on my mobile dilemma: since I do 
Virgin Mobile, I’ve decided to stick with them but move to one of their SIM-only monthly plans. £15 a month for 500 texts and 100 minutes, and you can cancel at any time, and hey, I can always get a new handset for myself at some point. Y’know, on my wealthy student budget.
Before I dash off to the Tricycle theatre to meet Ms Hook and some American students (I think – I agreed to answer questions about education but was a bit hazy on who and what and why) I’ll leave you with this snippet from the daily BBC Newsnight e-mail which caught my eye:
General Sir Richard Dannatt suggested the army was reaching breaking point. We’re devoting all of tonight’s programme to find out whether he’s right – and to find out why, as our exclusive poll reveals, more than two thirds of us would be unhappy for our son or daughter to join the army.
Golly, I just can’t imagine… 
* possibly a guitar
** Triple Science. You didn’t know?
*** Everyone gets older students as a mother and a father. It’s cute!
Finally got round to reading Derren Brown’s Tricks of the Mind. Despite his recent TV showings trundling inevitably downhill, I’ve always been a huge fan of Derren: for his performances as an entertainer first and foremost, but almost as importantly for his for-heaven’s-sake-it’s-all-a-game attitude. A magician who can do exactly as the ‘psychics’ do is hugely valuable, and the final chapter of his book was familiar if welcome territory about bad science, frauds and religion.
It’s always preaching to the converted, though. Derren raves about Richard Dawkins and The God Delusion, which I really ought to read, but somehow feel the exercise might be slightly pointless as I’m hardly needing to be convinced. Far better if I could convince someone like Sanna to read it, without it seeming like an intrusion. After all, it’s only a book, what harm can reading it do you? What kind of belief feels so strong yet is so weak you need to protect it from mere works on a printed page? I’d be quite happy to read something – anything – in return, after all, but I’m sure I’d be reading it without the required ‘open mind’. Ah well. As it is I somehow manage to spark off references to the Tower of Babel, an intriguing Biblical story about religion deliberating separating and dividing people which verges terrifyingly on truth.
Something which everyone can read without hesitation is Ermila’s blog, a friend of ours who proves that more adults should take the time to blog since, well, they can write better than us for a start. (I realise as I type this that I am technically an adult, but you know what I mean.) How fascinating would your parents’ blogs be, for example? Feel free to replace ‘fascinating’ with a word connoting more horror at your own wish.
The whole situation reminds me of the other day when I tried to set my dad up with using RSS. It’s an absolutely perfect technology for him, since as a freelance journalist he spends a large part of his time checking a huge number of specialist websites for news. What we both found surprising, however, was that the vast number of organisations and companies not offering these feeds. I’ve grown so absolutely accustomed to having them available for the kind of stuff I read, which I guess is targeting a more RSS-savvy market.
Anything else going on? Well, I’m slowly preparing myself for a New Life (TM) by trying to put in place all of those things like an appropriate bank account and mobile setup. On the latter, if anyone knows any particularly good deals do let me know. I’m not absolutely against going on contract for a reasonable price (say, £15 a month) but I’d need lots of free texts and talk time. Andy tipped me off to look at 3’s offers, which I may just do. But talk phones to me people: at the moment I pay around £10 a month for 200 texts, no contract.
Finally, Alex Trafford (whose website has taken a strikingly minimalist turn) wanted to know of any obscure and baffling Cambridge rules. Well, if he and anyone else has managed to get this far, bemuse yourself with the following oddity:
Visitors’ drinks in the bar must be paid for by their host.
Don’t all rush to visit at once now…
I got a big, meaty, fat envelope from Cambridge the other day. The exciting kind, rather than simply bureaucratic forms, filled with all sorts of goodies and revelations which, I have to admit, left me rather excited. University life is just around the corner! Here’s what I got:
Cambridge Goodies
In order: a gorgeous and wonderful Freshers’ Guide written and illustrated by students in a reassuringly friendly manner (and yes, with an apostrophe in the right place – hurrah!), a scary guide to not getting killed from the Home Office, some detailed instructions about joining including ‘A Letter from the Dean’ (yes, the Dean!), a big, official-looking rulebook, IT details and instructions on fancy new e-mail addresses, another Freshers’ Guide from the union, more letters including the phrase “Dominic… son of Roger” which made me laugh, dinner tickets and a timetable for the first week. Phew! Incidentally, I also found out that the random lottery has assigned me a room in the ‘Stephen Hawking’ building. It has higher rent, but it’s almost brand new and with en-suite showers in the rooms! Woo! Much nicer than Harvey Court, where most people live
Soviet Kitsch
Moving on, and something remarkable happened the other day: I actually bought an album. Whilst I would obviously never condone anything but the wholeheartedly legal purchase of one’s entire music collection, this especially legal purchase was of Soviet Kitsch, by Regina Spektor. Like all her stuff, it’s breathtakingly good and I absolutely can’t wait to see her live next month. If you kiss somebody then both of you’ll get practice…
Finally, I had a bit of a bumper Birmingham visit this week. Aside from being wined and dined at the local restaurant and picnicking with Andy and Lou (both lovely, thanks all!) one highlight has to be Trivial Pursuit, where Lucy and I really didn’t fare too badly against the combined wits of several adults. OK, so we lost – each time – but it was a pretty good show given that every other question managed to work in the Falklands.
(P.S. Friends – London picnic on Wednesday. Not sure where yet, expect a phone call. Be there!)
Hello again!
Well, there was certainly a perceptible rise in excitement levels last week. Thanks to everyone who left their congratulations on my last post: yes, I did end up collecting my remaining AQA results. Just for the anally-retentive – and me, since I have come to searching my own blog when I can’t remember something – they were:
LTA4 – Texts in Time – 90/90
LTA5C – Literary Connections (Cwk) – 90/90
LTA6 – Reading for Meaning – 117/120
MPC4 – Pure Core Mathematics 4 – 76/100
MS1A – Statistics 1A – 89/100
leaving me with AAAB in total. Which, incidentally, are the same grades achieved by Hiten and Promise (congrats ) making us a pleasingly unified trio! And after congratulating everyone else who got what they needed – like Robert – and also the Midlandic (yes, that’s now a word) AS lot, I’ll shush about results now. I’m now just looking forward to the years ahead!
In fact, I’ve just returned from a wonderful weekend in Brighton with Lucy. As theme park connoisseurs Brighton Pier wasn’t offering the most extreme white-knuckle rides you could imagine (unless you count bars which don’t appear to lock until the very last minute as ‘white-knuckle’) until we found one ride – probably meant for kids – boasting cheesy dance choons as a soundtrack. We went on it four times. Oh dear
Pingu’s baking
Finally, I am compelled to mention Pingu (again!) upon receipt of his chocolate brownie, which he sent in the post in a little Tupperware box. Yes, really. Don’t believe me, punk? See photo! Mmm…delicious too…
Helen on It’s (waiting) time.: “Fabulous news, congratulations to you both! X” Jun 8, 21:51
