The Repatriation of Mister Carr

Coming back isn't easy. Getting that giant ball of life rolling in a new place takes a lot of effort, and being away for two years takes away a lot of momentum. I was definitely in culture shock for quite some time. But despite the difficulties, there are definitely great things about being in the states again...

First, the food. Oh the consumer society that is America. How I have missed you. I have gorged myself on burritos, greasy greasy hamburgers, pizza, amazing salads that I forgot exist, and oh so much more. 

Behold the glory of Cafe Rio. I never thought a burrito could glow.

Next I was blown away by the wide open expanse that I grew up in. 

This is right next to one of my favorite runs...a little cabin at the base of the mountains marks the start and stop point of the run dubbed 'the vista'

One of my favorite things about the US are all the races I get to do. I've already run a 5k and a 10k since I've been back, and they were both fantastic. The 5K was just a local one, but I was oddly worried about it because of elevation changes, and running sort of took a rough turn in Moscow. But the race went fairly well, and I ran into some old friends.

The 10K I did is a race on Skyline drive, which is a road that runs along the top of the mountains here, and it's at 10000 ft. Some great friends came down for the weekend and we spent the night before the race camping out in the scenic mountains. I was blown away by the beauty of the raw nature here in Utah. I swore that I hadn't forgot about it, but I clearly have because every few minutes I couldn't help but say how beautiful it all is.

I think no matter how far I get away, this place pulls me back in...it's a beautiful little trap that I call home.

The race the next day went great. The first 5K were fast, and I raced it out with a high-schooler at about 5:40 miles. Then the brutal reality of 10,000 ft elevation kicked in, and the course turned uphill for the last 5K (who designed this course?!). I really struggled, and my pace slowed to about 6:20 miles for the last few, spitting me out in 35:something. Luckily I wasn't alone in my sorrow and the high-schooler fell off the radar...that's how I win things...I just plan on other people suffering more than me.

Even though the course was horrendous, it really does have a fantastic view.

The best part of coming home has been seeing family. I spent the first week here with my brother and his family, who I haven't had a good chance to spend time with for arguably 7 years. I think I don't really need to say that was a long overdue reunion. I've also had the chance to see many other family members, and even got to run the aforementioned race with my little sister. 

It's nice coming to my home country, but it's even nicer coming home to family.

This is likely to be the last post on this blog before I close it to the public. It has been a wild adventure over the last two years leaving my home, and finally coming back. I'm so glad I chose to do this, and I'm so glad some of you could go through it with me. It's been what I consider to be a long series of unforgettable times. And so, goodbye.

The End

Bitter-sweet farewells

This summer has been one of slow, drawn-out farewells. Another music post, this goes out to you Moscow:

I'm sitting in the Warsaw airport on my way home from 2 years of studying in Moscow, Russia. I can hardly believe that I am finally on my way back to the US after SOOOOO long being absent. The time in Russia was incredibly difficult on me, and I owe so much to friends and family that got me through the toughest times. I can honestly say that I've never felt more alone, betrayed, angry, and bitter than I often did in Moscow. I feel like I'm in an abusive relationship with this city (I guess I should say that city now), with a bit of a Stockholm syndrome thing going on (a bit, I mean, I'm not super in love). And yet, saying goodbye to all of my dear friends over the summer tore a bit of me out. That's the catch with living in a place so far away, you can never really take all of you along when you finally leave. Moscow, you definitely took a big part of me for yourself, but I guess in a weird way I love you for it...bitch.

The last little while in Russia I got into 'do everything Russia' mode. I ate so many pelmeni, vareniki, and pirogi that I definitely don't want to see them for quite some time now; I made it to a museum that a friend and I had tried to hit up twice before with no success; I threw a shashlik (shishkebab) roast for a ton of my friends; and I gave a talk in my church.

One of my most anticipated activities was to catch the sunrise over Sparrow Hills. To do this I had to wake up at about 4.00 am to run the 10k there and catch it on time (I could have done this at a time of year when the sun rises much, much later, but I procrastinated). I was expecting a totally tender moment with Moscow where I re-convince myself that I really do love this city. Instead I found a bunch of drunk people driving around screaming...I was pretty disappointed (although on the other hand you've got to hand it to them for still being drunk at 4.45). The sunrise was beautiful though, and at least I had a nice run without any traffic.

Then I graduated from my Master's program.

Anyway, after all my little goodbyes, it finally came time to go. People ask me a lot 'what now?' Now I'm nervous, excited, burned-out, tired, and a bit hungry. We'll see what comes next, but for now, Прощай, Москва.

A Bit Depressing at First, But It Gets Lighter at the End

We visited the Holocaust Museum. This is the sort of place that breaks one's heart. I have a hard time believing just how cruel humans can become. I think it's impossible for me to relay the emotions and thoughts of going through a memorial like this. The name of the museum is Yad Vashem, meaning a place and a name. In the spirit of remembering I'm including a few quotations that struck me.

'When our children cried in the shadow of the gallows, We never heard the world's anger. For Thou didst choose us from all people. Thou didst love us and favor us...and when our children are marched to the gallows, Jewish chlidren, wise Jewish children, They know that their blood is not counted in the Bloodshed - They only call back to their mothers: Mother, don't look.' -Nathan Alterman, 1942

'I know that when I stand before God on Judgement Day, I shall not be asked the question posed to Cain - where were you when your brother's blood was crying out to God?' -Imre Bathory.

'So for us even the hour of liberty rang out grave and muffled, and filled our souls with joy and yet with a painful sense of shame...and also with anguish, because we felt that this should never happen, that now nothing could ever happen good and pure enough to rub out our past, and that the scars of the outrage would remain within us forever.' -Primo Levi, The Truce

The day ended with getting fantastically lost on the Mount of Olives. Well, not lost really, we just thought we could get into some sites that were actually closed. But we caught a beautiful sunset over Jerusalem from our vantage point, and I had some mild epiphanies that I think will stick with me for a while (if you really want to hear them call me and we'll talk).

The next day we headed to Bethlehem to check out the birthplace of Jesus. It turned out to be much more of an adventure than I bargained for, since it's in Palestinian territory. I met a British girl who convinced us to go to the wall separating Israel and Palestine and we ended up having a fascinating discussion with our taxi driver about the condition of the conflict.

One of my favorite parts (and least favorite parts) was the people on pilgrimages. It was inspiring to see so many people from all over the globe gathering to pay homage to their beliefs.

The emotions surrounding the wall were a bit hard to take in. So many cultures clash here, but the wall itself seems so archaic and cold. Walls just scream evil in my mind.

We saw a handful of Banksys along the way, which was cool.

We drove in to Tel Aviv for the last half of the day to hit up the beach. It was so relaxing playing in the water, going for a run up the coast, and coming back to a fantastic view of Joppa. This was the perfect way to end a stressful trip.

I found some really cool workout equipment and had to play on it. 

Photo Overload: Mountains, Masada, Ein Gedi, Dead Sea

Days 2 and 3 are sort of melded together in my mind, but they were so very different. Day 2 started out with an early morning run (after cleaning the cat fur off my face) up the Mount of Olives and over to Mt. Scopus.

The view from the top of Mt. Scopus

After the run and a bit of Shabbat fun at the Jerusalem Center (really fantastic) we finished the day off with more sites around the city. If I'm perfectly honest, most of these sites were a bit of a disappointment. With all the thousands of pilgrims wandering the city, it's quite difficult to get a feeling of reverence, and look at the sites as they really ought to be. Some of my favorite moments in Jerusalem were not at the famous  Christian, Judaic, or Muslim sites but in random corners of the city where I could just look over it and think of its significance. That being said, here are some more pictures of the famous sites.

Protestant's version of Calvary

Protestant's version of Jesus' Tomb

Garden of Gethsemane

The next day we woke up at 3am to catch the sunrise at Masada, an old fortress first built by Alexander Jannaeus, later taken by Herod the Great, then later by the Romans in about 70 AD. The Romans laid siege to the fortress, and rather than give in to them, the zealots inside committed mass suicide. 

...but the sunrise over the Dead Sea was nice.

 

The cistern and the only remaining inhabitant of the fortress.

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Really just incredible.

After Masada I swung up to the natural springs of Ein Gedi, which is where David hid from Solomon in his early years. 

This rock was just begging to be climbed. 

This waterfall had a sign that forbade swimming. But I've always been a rule breaker.

I decided to try to run to the top of the falls with the 15 minutes I had left. Another passenger on the bus told me I couldn't make it, but I think we all know that made me want to do it all the more. Sorry for the bad video, but you get the picture I think.

After Ein Gedi we drove up to the Dead Sea to take a dip. This was pretty fun, and very odd. You can just sit, or even stand in the water and you just float. 

The mud is apparently really good for your skin.

And that was all done by about 2.00. The rest of the day is for another post. 

I am returned unto Zion, and will dwell in the midst of Jerusalem: and Jerusalem shall be called a city of truth. ~ God of the Old Testament

Wednesday I bought a ticket to Israel. Thursday I went to Israel. Before you start thinking that I'm rich and frivolous, tickets are super cheap from here...so only the latter is true. I flew into Tel Aviv Thursday night, and the next morning was on a bus for Jerusalem.

Day one was a bit confusing, trying to find my way around a city that I had 1) not planned anything for 2) had no map of and 3) has so many interesting things that I easily got distracted/lost. It turned out ok, and I found the hostel (which ended up being an adventure all on its own), and started the tour of the city.

At the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, where Orthodox faiths believe Christ was crucified and buried. I was trying to figure out where to go next and looking great doing it.

Western Wall

Random school above the Western Wall. As I've said before, one of my favorite things to do is just wander around new cities. This definitely held true in Jerusalem.

Such a fascinating cultural struggle. The whole time I was there I was just blown away that things don't just erupt into violence. It's such a strange balance.

 After a long day of wandering around Jerusalem and seeing much more than I'll ever be able to tell, we came back to our hostel. This hostel is located in the middle of the old city, and you're supposed to sleep on the roof. I set aside mats and blankets, but when I came back they had been commandeered (filthy hostel hippies). All that was left was a damp one and a sheet. It was pretty cold, but luckily a tabby cat came and slept on my face to keep me warm.

This is what I woke up to. Sort of worth the freezing night, right?

Days 2, 3, and 4 to come!

I Defended My Thesis Because No One Else Would...Poor Little Guy

That's right, on Monday this week I defended my thesis. This was the last act of the theatrics that were my Master's Program. The reviews were fantastic. I got a happy rainbow pot o'gold (scores are given in lucky charms here, just another peculiarity about Russia).

Another peculiarity about Russia is that apparently your program forgets you exist for 6 months while you're trying to write your thesis. This got quite depressing at times, since I had to go about teaching myself the entire subject matter. I learned so much about myself in the process, but I think the paper turned out slightly worse than it would have with support. Anyway, significant effort went into this paper, so I thought I'd include my abstract here on my blog just for memory's sake.

Abstract                                                      

This thesis will investigate short-run investment herding in Russian markets.  It has two objectives:  first, it will explore informational cascades as an example of herding to suggest a timeline in Russian markets. Second: it will apply game theory to transition conditions to suggest a larger Eastern European context for the Russian example. There is some scholarly interest in herding in developed and developing countries, but there is little literature on transition countries[1]. Do herding models have validity outside advanced markets? The answer to this question can be found partly in price irregularities in the market. My thesis has policy-relevant conclusions.

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[1]      See Miller (2008)

Reminiscent of a Diary (minus my current crushes and what all the girls said at school today)

A bit early to my evening English lesson today, so I walk around a nearby park. I've got a cold raspberry yoghurt (drinkable of course) to cool me from the recent heat wave in Moscow. A murder of crows (I love saying that) is harassing a dog a few feet away as one swoops down just out of reach of the angry cuss while the others jaw and cackle at the scene. I worked on my thesis defense all day today, and this little break is much needed before work.

After my lesson I come home and throw on my running clothes as fast as I can. It looks like a summer drizzle might start, and if I don't go now I won't get in a run today. About a kilometer into the run what looked like a sprinkle breaks into a microburst downpour. The night sky usually stays light until about 10.30 or even 11.00 this late into June, but the clouds block out all light from the fleeting sun tonight. Explosions of lightning give brief glimpses of the forest path in front of me, helping me dodge any obstacles.

But what may seem like bad luck to most runners is a refreshing break for this one. The rain not only cools the air, but pulls the heavy pollution out of it momentarily. The pollution gets so thick in this heat that it's almost hard to breath sometimes.

Before going home I stop in a grocery store for some chocolate milk (OH YEAH!) and I'm certain that every last eye in the little shop is fixed on my dripping, wet-dog appearance the entire five minutes it takes to get the milk. Despite the glares, today's run was a fantastic way to end a typical Moscow summer day.

The disheveled room behind me really accents the disheveled me after my run.

A piece-of-junk bike is all I need for a good time

In the spirit of juicing life I went on a forest bike ride yesterday. One of my favorite parts about Moscow is that it is dotted with forested parks. When the hustle and bustle of everyday life gets to be too much, I love escaping to these little sanctuaries. We (I) packed some snacks, went to the park ВДНХ, rented some super awesome bikes (these are possibly the worst bikes I've ever seen in my life...they warned us not to push the pedals too hard. I thought this was a joke until halfway through the ride one of my pedals snapped in half), and were on our way to The Forested Island (Лесиный Остров).

You shouldn't try to take pictures while riding a bike at full speed...unless you're awesome.

I love that things just grow here almost on accident...being from a barren desert, I'm used to having to tenderly coax life in vegetable form out of the ground. Here wild strawberries just pop up randomly.

We nicknamed our route 'post-apocalyptic alley'

...and you can see why

The road says 'A sober Russia is a great Russia.' I agree in principle, but this has historically never happened, so no one really knows.

Great day.

Eventually I'll get around to real life

One of the lessons of living in a foreign country for me has been the realization that it doesn't have to be as hard as I make it. As a student here, I've always looked at my time in Russia as temporary, and therefore have been dissuaded from investing in things that go under the topic real life in my head. You can probably guess the majority of these things like furniture, household appliances, etc. But many of the things that I'm realizing are subconsciously on the list really don't belong there (and really I don't know how much longer I can temporarily live without totally losing it).

Example: One day this week I was wishing I didn't have to cook dinner every day, and thinking about how in America we sometimes save food in ziplock bags...then I realized they have those here too. So this week I've been feasting on leftovers, and loving it.

Another example: I've been wanting to play tennis ever since I came here. I'm so terrible, but I still just love the game (side-note about tennis: no matter how great you are at the sport, you never look good chasing a stray tennis ball). The only problem is that most courts here are SUPER expensive, so I just gave up trying to play a long time ago. That is, until my friend Artur took 5 minutes to look into it this last week. He found a relatively cheap place, and we went. Sometimes all it takes is just deciding you're going to do something, and then following through. Or in this case, all it takes is someone else deciding you're going to do it. Peer pressure, it makes the world go 'round. And you know what? It was such a blast!

Don't get me wrong, sometimes life in Russia is exactly as frustrating as I make it, possibly more (Tuesday was tough, but that's for another post). But I think it's appropriate that on the longest day of the year I try to fit some little pleasantries in. It's all about squeezing the juicy moments out of the pulp of life. Speaking of which, I really want some juice now.

A broken dream and a sad day

Yes, my dreams were dashed. For you see, As I sit in my room writing this post, the lovely aroma of cigarettes drifts through my window from an adjacent room...

It wall started a few months ago. A new law was passed banning smoking on all university campuses. A fairly bold move by the Putin administration because smoking is possibly Russia's second favorite past-time- coming in after drinking. It sounds great at first, but what they don't tell you is that it's all a conspiracy to extend Russians' life spans by several years. Well played Mr. Putin, but I'm on to you.

I asked a few people about the new law and got mixed reviews. Some people were happy about it, saying that Russia was finally getting its act together and acting serious about health concerns (the attorney general here gives out odd advice sometimes...for example, don't eat food outside of Russia because it'll make you sick). But most people were pretty upset about it. I was walking home when I overheard one guy who was visibly upset about it. He got so worked up that he punched a window that had an anti-smoking poster on it, breaking the window in the process. He totally looked like a bad-ass (throwing a temper tantrum). 

Now for the sad day - today. I wrote about my student Yasya a while ago, and today we had our last lesson. It really took me off guard just how much I'd miss teaching her when she hugged me goodbye. I think Yasya was born with an inner wisdom of how to be happy. I've never seen her anything less than perfectly content with what she has, and perfectly delighted to learn new things.

  

"Let us leave this place, where the smoke blows black, and the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow. We will walk with a walk that is measured and slow, and go where the chalk white arrows go... for the children, they mark, and the children, they know, the place where the sidewalk ends."

That's part of a poem that we memorized together in one of our lessons. I'm not convinced that all children know that place, but it's good to know that some of them really do.

Taking a leisurely ride along the River Styx

I debated whether or not to post this for a long time because it can easily be taken several wrong ways. I eventually decided that writing it out may help think through some things, and I guess you get to participate in that. Read further only if you agree to look for the right way I mean this to take.

I work as a freelance translator when I have a little extra time on my hands, and recently took a job translating at a multinational company's party of about 100 Russians and 30 people from other countries. The party was on a chartered boat-tour of the Moscow River, which I've been meaning to try for a long time anyway. I figured it'd be nice to get paid to be a tourist. Particularly since they promised on board entertainment and food.

The first hour of the trip went splendidly. Fantastic food, the live band was great, and we had a dance party (dance parties with old Russian people always crack me up, they are such awful dancers. But they either don't know or don't care because they really get into it). Anyway, it was turning into a great evening, and on top of it all, I was getting paid for it.

Great way to spend the night, right? Well it was, up until the evening show started up. I was translating for the host when  two  girls come up from behind the host and I, dressed, um...business casual: night shift. This is where my hopeless naivete kicked in. 'This is a company party, they can't do anything too crazy, right?' or 'Half of these people are women, this isn't going to go too far...right?' I foolishly thought as I continued to translate. As my gross misunderstanding of Russian propriety was shattered by the two strippers on board, I slunk into a corner, staring at my shoes till I could slink away. 

Luckily, we turned the word (sort of) over to the ladies of the night, and I slipped out to the buffet area to mull over what I was going to do about the odd turn of events. I'm morally opposed to strip shows, go-go dances, etc. so it wasn't really a question for me of whether or not to watch. I think it's a cheap representation and exploitation of a human's body. But the harder question of what I was supposed to do about translating for this filth when it's my job, and I can't really just jump into the Moscow River and swim away (really, no one should swim in the Moscow River...ever). This next video is full of my awkward musing, chuckling as I tried to figure out what to do.

Well, like I said, the evening was a variety show, so I just hid in the buffet room whenever they decided on one particular 'variety' of entertainment. I really found myself hating a large number of people on the boat. As the night rolled on, and the passengers got more and more drunk, they showed their ugly side. I don't want to get into the details, suffice it to know that it's disgusting seeing people reduce themselves to animals. 

I usually write about how I come to love Russia, because I honestly do love so many things here. But I couldn't help looking at the people on the boat (to be fair, there were people from other countries taking part too) differently after they'd indulged themselves in such an unsavory way (and I'm not talking about eating a whole thing of candy beans). I asked some of the girls on the boat what they thought about this sort of behavior and they said, 'They're just joking, it's fine,' or 'I don't know, I'm used to it.' 

It was also sort of interesting seeing the 'dancers' when they were just in a non-performing capacity. I've seen 'women of the night' before, and they always seemed to have a uniform look of hopeless, degraded sadness about them. But these dancers seemed fine with their career choice. I'm sort of still mulling that over. Thinkers better than I have spent novels characterizing sex traders by giving them hearts of gold or souls of black muck. Their clientele is usually glanced over as the cowardly, weak man driven by unchecked passions or the brutal abuser.  No one at this party fit character though. Everyone acted basically the same as when the musicians were performing, this was just another act for casual entertainment. Oddly, the whole time I felt like the coward, the timid little bird who had flown into a house and couldn't find its way out.

In the end, I'm likely going to look back on this with sort of an awkward humor...sort of the 'oh Moscow, you're insane' sort of humor. 

Nothing special, just гречка and a балкон. It's silly really.

The glorious Moscow summer has officially set in. As my time in Russia is likely winding to a slow, dragged-out end, I've taken the time to really just sit back and enjoy time as it slips through my open fingers. I guess it started with my disappointment with my last race, ironically the last post on this blog. It seemed like a good excuse to change things up, so I decided to start eating better, particularly beefing up my breakfasts, and cutting down on midnight meals. I figure that devoting more time to my meals forces me to get up at a reasonable hour, and starts the day off right...

Part of a balanced breakfast! Buckwheat is a popular choice in Russia. I've really grown to like it mixed with spicy cheese and eggs...apparently eating whole grains doesn't help me clean my messy desk though.

I guess the buck-wheaties have paid off, because I've set aside more quality Bryce time. I've  recently taken to balconying as much as possible. One thing I love about living in a larger city is having a balcony...a wonderful little lookout on my little part of town. I like to go out and read (currently going through East of Eden--so good!), play the guitar, hang out, or just think. It's quickly becoming my favorite spot, it's a shame the weather prevents me from even considering stepping onto the balcony for 8 months out of the year.

Today there was a gorgeous summer rain, with the sun peaking through just as it was about to set.

So I stepped out for an evening read...the sun glinting off the raindrops did a good job of distracting me though.

No overriding lesson to be learned from this blogpost, no deep thoughts, no new little place I've explored. Sorry.

But seriously...why run?

Today I'm suffering from post-race pains. I feel sort of like my legs are made of extremely painful jello...or since we're in Russia, kholodets (meat jello, it tastes exactly as good as it sounds). What, you ask, caused this great pain to come about? For the past few months I've been dealing with minor foot injuries, and haven't been able to consistently train. Two weeks ago, I decided that two weeks is plenty of time to prep for a half marathon, and signed up for the Весенний Гром (Spring Thunder). After all, it's only half of a marathon, how bad could it be?

This must be one of those cases of temporary insanity, because no matter how you count it, 21.something kilometers didn't feel like half of anything. In fact, it felt like a whole lot of something. The race started out like most, and I ran out like I was doing a 5k, but around 8k I realized that something was horribly wrong. Like a ton of neatly stacked, well placed bricks, I hit it...THE WALL. The wall is a mental and physical realization that you are, in fact, a moron. It's your body's way of telling you, "Oh, you think you're in great shape huh? Wehehell, I've got some bad news for you tubby, you still have 13k to go." At this realization, I significantly slowed my pace just hoping to finish the race.

This general feeling of wishing death upon the past version of myself that signed up for the race (and actually PAID for this!) continued for quite some time. Luckily, I guess, 21k is a long time, and it gives you the time to have many ups and downs during the race. That's an hour+ time for thinking, and re-thinking. When I had about 4k to go I was finally able to convince myself to run faster, and try to catch some of the guys who had passed me in my pitiful state. I ended up taking 9th place, and feeling pretty crumby about my time, but it all goes into the large, overstuffed folder in my brain of 'lessons learned the hard way.' I know now that I need to prepare for half marathons a bit more than I do for 5ks. A lesson that should really be simple, but for the overconfident Bryce, nothing in life comes easy.

V for Victory

Happy Victory Day! I talk to Russians about WWII all the time, it's a really big deal here. Usually they bring up the question of why Americans say that we won the war. I always like to point out that, while we generally don't give Russians enough credit during the war, we certainly did our part. Anyway, then we usually get into a conversation about how Americans really just can't understand having a war on their own land. I actually really agree on this point. Over the past year I've come to better appreciate how hard it really hits when the war is brought to your front step.

Anyway, today I went to the parade with my friends from the dorm, and later  the fireworks display with some other friends in celebration.

Jets flew the Russian colors over the Kremlin after the parade, a  great spectacle.

The fireworks at Vorobiovi Gori

68 years

Happy Victory Day everyone!

Power Trip: Day 2

Upon arriving in Suzdal, we started our search for a place to stay the night. We had heard you could stay in a monastery, so we asked around, and after a few missteps, eventually found it. I've personally never stayed in a monastery, and the Rizopolozhenski Monastary seemed like a great place to start (although I'm pretty sure they doubled the price when they saw how tired we were, those nuns will get you if you don't watch out). 

The grounds for our monastery were spectacular

Things got a bit sultry with the leopard print furniture

We managed to catch some fantastic views as the sun set over the sleepy town.

I've mentioned before that I love running in new locations, and this was no exception. The air almost had a sweet flavor as I breathed it in, and I did so deeply on a  countryside jaunt. About three people (which ends up being just about every single person I saw on my run) actually stopped me to ask what I was doing, or to just talk...another small-townity that was more than welcome.

The next morning was filled with visiting as many of the temples that dot the quiet village as was possible. Some highlights:

                             

I kind of got us lost on this one, and we took about an hour detour. Luckily, we had bought ice cream beforehand, so  spirits were high.

  

The wooden ones were really cool, and they had a little district dedicated to things made of wood.

Having packed the day with small-townities, we headed back for Moscow, this time taking the much more comfortable fast train.The trip ended up being such a great little escape from the hustle and bustle of Moscow, and the fantastic company didn't hurt either.