The weather was proving to be a bonus for us. Another fine day expected of some 22 degrees Celsius. It appears that our winter woolies may not be let out of their cage this trip. Although projections suggest that it may turn cold in the next few days coinciding with our Saint Petersburg visit.

I mentioned in the previous chapter that there is some big news pending. To keep faith, I will reveal this later but I think you maybe somewhat surprised with this. Perhaps some of the pictures associated with chapter may give you a hint ? 

Ok, I know that you’re keen to know: so I will jump to the end of our day first. A little Irish, but many of you would have just skipped to the end to find out the gossip anyway.

Fred and I went to the Bolshoi ballet. What an experience. The theatre was all but full: albeit mostly with Asians. However, what astounds me is that, how can the average Moscovite afford such an experience ? We even balked at the cost. 

Kirill our guide indicated that he’d been once as a younger fellow however, couldn’t afford it now. I draw your attention to the competition at the end of this chapter for greater and more specific information.

However, prior to getting there, I need to highlight the conditions that Fred laid down for me to attend the ballet:

I agreed to all of these: luckily I brought my good jeans (the one’s with a patched knee) and my footy training shirt. Got the odd mud stain though.

The theatre was only a short walk from our hotel: a few strange looks from passers-by as they watched Fred constantly reminding me of the decorum needed. “You could be sitting next to an oil magnate, so you will have to be on your best behaviour”, I recall her saying. That didn’t bother me a great deal as back in my either days, I thought that I was a “chick magnet”. “Probably we would have something in common”, I quipped.

Fred agreed, “yeah, you and he will probably leave at the same time” !! Soon, we presented our tickets to the doorman who gives me the once over and says something in Russian. I think that he was impressed with my appearance. So much so, that he arranged a personal escort to our seats. “We’re up pretty high” I said, “We must be important, got our own little section with curtains”: “the curtains are so people won’t see you falling asleep”, Fred indicated. The ballet was La Sylphide: apparently one of the oldest which dates back to the early 1800s. A love story of how a girl endeavours to get her man. I indicated that it was a bit like our courting days. “Don’t you remember, I did it for a bet ?”, Fred replied. I did recall.  

The orchestra seemed a disorganised bunch, playing music as if they were the only audience. I thought it was Beethoven’s fifth: “perhaps it is Tchaikovsky’s first movement”, Fred indicated. I thought it odd that Mr Tchaikovsky would have visited the loo prior to the performance.

Anyway, once the conductor arrived they appeared to be a little more disciplined. Lights out and then some music; the performers were obviously not ready, as they didn’t lift the curtain; probably a costume failure or the like. Up comes the curtain, with one of the performers slouching in his chair and two others asleep. I noted to Fred that the music had put them asleep. A short sharp elbow to my 3rd and 4th rib seemed to be her response. 

Throughout the first act, Fred sat there mesmerised by the fellas jumping everywhere with the females walking around on their toes and turning in circles. Not a word spoken: Marcel Marceau would have been impressed. It was the same in the second act. All over within an hour and 45 minutes (inclusive of a 25 minute “half-time”) break. I was guilty of asking, “would they have oranges during half-time ?”, No response. Given this, I didn’t dare mention about the wardrobe failure with the men; all seemed to be wearing very tight pants. Perhaps these were last washed in hot water and they shrunk ? 

The evening finished early: this appears to be a normal Russian process. Perhaps it is to overcome the harsh climate in winter ? We walked back to our hotel after a few detours watching some buskers and the lights of the CBD. Many Muscovites out enjoying the balmy weather. The whole of the city ablaze with light: electricity must be cheap. It looked a picture.

Now let’s return to the day’s activities.

Today being the day prior to Good Friday is as important to the Russians as it is for the other Christian denominations: here they work on the “old calendar” and so tend to run approximately a week later than ourselves. Our driver Alexei couldn’t speak English, but contributed to our conversations during the day. We broached the following topics along the way:

Slotted in between these conversations, was a visit to a large complex (Royal Nunnery built in 1524) where we were privileged to witness a Russian Orthodox Church service for a short while. These churches are extremely ornate. We also visited St Basil’s Cathedral which is situated on the edge of the Red Square. We were able to inspect the cathedral which was built in the 16th century. I am sure each of us have seen pictures of this cathedral: it is the quintessential picture of Russia.

We were one the last to inspect the cathedral that day; the victory parade rehearsal (May 9th) was to start at 2pm (only minutes away) so we were able to see the mighty Red Square, empty. A rare sight indeed. Many pictures were taken; even as we were being ushered out by a very determined lady. Top secret: police and security guards were everywhere. 

A short walk down to the river and then along the wall of the Kremlin gave us a real perspective of the 63 acre property. We were able then to sit down and have a Russian lunch: dumplings with some cherry juice being the bill-of-fare. Then a short drive to the very imposing Cathedral of Christ Our saviour. A very large church overlooking the Moscow River. The gold “onion like” domes dominating most the structure and the immediate area.

The day was done: indeed our experience of Moscow was drawing to a close. We are due to move to the much smaller northern city of Saint Petersburg (4 million people). We are preparing for some much colder weather given this city is situated on the Gulf of Finland.

This chapter’s competition focusses on the Bolshoi ballet: 

1. Initially, at least the word ballet. We English speakers, pronounce the word “ballet” as “bal-ay”. Why isn’t it “bal-et” ? 

I offer the following as examples to support the latter: target, bullet,  alphabet, socket, quintet, quadruplet, cricket, market, internet etc.

Now your task, is to find more than 9 “et” sounding words, that actually have the “ay” sound. Should you be able to complete this task, then perhaps I will be convinced that it is indeed “bal-ay”.

2. Given the fellas were all wearing tight fitting pants, why would have Fred said “he’s a big boy”, given the fella to whom she was referring, was the shortest ?  

Good luck. A copy of our ticket to the ballet will be yours provided a diligent attempt at both questions is made !!