Perils of spring

In spring the great mass of snow melts in the day and refreezes in the night. This can be followed by a week below zero, during which many cars will be stuck in a few inches of ice.

Sanctions

This restaurant called 'Munchenhousen' has a section on the menu saying:

Munchenhousen Sanctions

It is forbidden to poor beer or spirits for the president of the USA, Barack Obama.

Hollow school

I'd like to see the OFSTED report for this place.

So as not to have misled you, I should point out,
that this school is not open for business!

Dusk in the snowy park

The winter comes to an end, the daylight hours extend,

But your rear end ...

is best kept off the benches for a while longer!

 

Walking home from work

I walk carefully, navigating the bumpy ice which now covers most of the city. In the day snow melts and at night it freezes. I slip occasionally, but so far not drastically. I reach the park, or perhaps more accurately it's a promenade, which overlooks the snow covered river. There are benches and lamps, and it would be romantic if it weren't for the icy wind. 

I reach the church, tall and white with nested golden onions for a roof. I hear chanting, singing. The gate is open. I go inside. It's very warm. There are a lot of women in head scarves. Parts of the walls are covered in icons and gold, very gaudy from a western perspective but less than a typical Russian church. 

The church.

The chants continue and everyone humbly draws crosses in the air before their faces. The choir sings. Harmonies. The sound is crisp. Warm. The tone is heartening. I feel content and happy.

I continue the walk home. The icy wind contrasts with the warmth of the church. I zig-zag between concrete soviet blocks. It's dark. I pass a big metallic disk with oil field images impressed on it. I pass a bank lit by neon lights, and then through more dark icy car parks between flat blocks. 

I'm cold. I brought the wrong coat today. Eventually I reach the shop by my house. I ask about the prices of salmon. The woman in the shop is helpful and chatty. My accent is evident and she asks my ethnicity. English. A look of surprise and delight greets me. How is it here for you? A girl, maybe 16, 17, joins the conversation, she's curious about the whole thing, the world out there. A man joins the conversation. England? The girl asks if we can chat about what it's like out there. The woman turns out to be from Tajikistan. I wish her happy Nauryz. Come again, she says with a genuine smile and warm eyes.

The shop, amongst blocks of apartments.

I cross the road and dash home, maintaining my care on the ice. I scare the babushka in front of me as I enter the building behind her without making a sound. I apologise. We chat. So you live on the fifth floor? Me too. We struggle to talk while climbing the stairs. Are you from Tomsk? England. Pause. Confusion. Raised eye brows. Surprise. Genuine surprise. It doesn't take many questions to reach the topic of my salary. The staircase is a scary place but now that I've met our neighbour it's not so scary. The city, too, is less scary that I've chatted to some strangers.

Keeping clean in Nefteyugansk

The water is below par in Nefteyugansk. This shot of my kitchen sink sums it up, though doesn't quite convey its smelliness.

I like to joke:
"Why are your hands so dirty?"
"Oh, I just washed them".

Get your skates on

Borovoe is as charming in the late winter as it was in the late summer, but in a completely different way. It's warm enough to wander, but still frozen over. The lake is a great, open space with snow compact enough that, if you're careful, you can walk across it.

The lake is swept by gusting, turbulent winds, which first lull you into a false sense of security before whipping up a storm and sending real shivers through your torso and out to your fingers and toes. The loose, powdery snow complies with the wind to visualise its motion. Tumbling, twisting mini-tornadoes appear and disappear across the lake and I feel like I'm on a different planet. They touch-down and dance a muscular dance, getting fatter and thinner, sometimes tying themselves in knots, before petering out.

Skating without skates (probably the next Westlife single).

They've polished a bit of the lake to make an ice-rink. We were without skates so we skated in our shoes and had quite a giggle. 

This bench is somewhat hampered by its surroundings.

The hotel had a big fountain before it, not in its prime in this season, and benches spaced around the fountain, also not in their prime. Is it the weather, or the fact that they sit plank deep in snow, that makes them impractical?

We enjoyed a walk through the woods in the shadow of the mountains. A highly recommended getaway from the city. The wind can be a bit cold though.