Soviet City goes to Russia
I flew to Russia last week.
I expect to spend the next year here, except for a few brief runs to renew my visa. I’m now sitting in my warm flat in the city of Izhevsk, in the republic of Udmurtia, looking out onto the snow covered year below and contemplating life.
I’ve decided that I dont like flying anymore. My Swiss air flight was reasonably nice, with pleasant service and newish Airbus. In contrast my Izhavia flight, on an ancient Yak 42 jet from the 1980′s was terrifying. Turbulence, the smell of aviation fuel and the eeriely slow turning jet engines meant every moment lasted a lifetime.
Russian jets have passenger seats that seem to flop down forward at the slightest touch, and the flimsy interior of the plans doesnt inspire confidence in the planes mechanical abilities. If this plane was in England it would be scrapped or put into a museum.
Yak 42′s do however have a built in rear staircase which makes exiting the plane nice and easy. I wasnt quite prepared for the cold. Going from a pleasant +6c in England to -25c in Izhevsk was rather bracing.
I put my hat on and skated across the ice. My UK bought boots provided absolutely no traction on the compacted snow and ice. Time to buy some nice furry boots I think.
The past week has been a process of acclimatisation and exercise, adjusting to living and walking in a totally frozen environment and getting used to Russian customer service.
My Russian language skills have been severely tested, with a few complete communication breakdowns.
Russia is a beautiful, but very difficult country for sure.
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