Tweet:Attendants

The only thing worse than being a foreigner dealing with a bus/train station ticket lady would be being one! #Grumps

Couchsurfing

Fret not - I've been adopted by a group of friendly young local Ukrainians who have graciously invited me into their apartment. Here I plan to stay the next couple of days safely under their care before departing the country. The only drawback for you, my lovely readers, is a lack of wifi so you'll have to just go back and reread some posts, maybe leave a comment or three this time!

Tweet:Support

Should have changed that ringtone! Multiple times a day I get shivers from the Nokia default conjuring memories of 3am support calls #shudder

Tweet: Kerch Kats

I've never seen so many cool cats. As in huddled up against the Black Sea wind on gas lines, the bottom of stairs and on windowsills..

Tweet:I'm Takin' Naps!

Even in former USSR nothing beats waking up seconds before your nap alarm

Tweet: Ukrainian Borscht

Aren't food pics the bane of Twitter?

Documents!

"Documents!" he insisted after showing me some sort of badge. Gulp. I only came into the bus station being led by the driver as apparently I needed to pay separately to stow my luggage. That taken care of I wandered into the next room looking for a washroom but when I inquired "Toilet?" he demanded "Documents!"

I'd heard of random checks and had dreaded them but on my last day of over two weeks in Russia it was the border I was worried about not my first check. Begrudgingly I handed over my passport. Naturally there wasn't a word of English among the five various authority figures who eventually joined the original power tripper. All I could manage was one of my very few Ukrainian phrases that is the same in Russian: "Yenez niyou" or "I don't know." Curiously enough it was the fellow in full traditional Russian army garb, fur hat and all, who translated a few phrases on his tablet. I established I was traveling solo, on holiday to Ukraine and beyond. Trying to keep my eyes on my passport as it changed hands like a magicians cup trick I also kept flitting out the window to my bus which was holding the luggage I'd just paid to store. My stomach in knots as the tripper, not trooper, punched buttons on his cell phone over and over and I became convinced I would lose all my stuff and my ride on the last bus of the day. The only slight relief came when another man I recognised from the same bus was also ushered in, him with a Moldova passport but at least he had command of the local language. Minutes ticked and sweat dripped. Nothing seemed to be happening. Mobile phone buttons mashed and my passport information was written down but there was no indication I'd be escaping this unscathed. Is this going to be a bribery shakedown? I haven't got any cash since I've used up my rubles as I'm supposed to be leaving today.

Then the bus door closed.

I exclaimed, as did my soon to be cell mate, and yelled 'baggage' - a word I knew that translated and pointed frantically at my backpack and then at the bus that was ready to depart. 'Port Kavkaz?' my bus' destination someone asked and I agreed, repeating it twice. One of the men left the station and relief flooded as I saw the bus door reopen and the red faced driver point at his watch in annoyance. Finally there's some activity in the room I'm in and I heard my name read into the phone. The Moldova passport is returned which is a great sign. As he turns to leave I reach for my outstretched passport and half run, half skip to the friendly confines of that rickety old bus. Much chatter occurs between the driver, the Moldovan and whoever else. The babushka beside me wants to know what has happened and I do my best to assure her it's okay while doing the same to myself and my still full bladder.

(Bet you never expected two blog ending bladder jokes!)

Reflections on the Games

The Sochi, Russia XXII Olympic Winter Games have now concluded. As far as I can tell they were a success overall and here I would like to comment on the different aspects of the Games, from first hand experience.

Security
This was the number one concern heading into these Olympics but one of the least concerning in reality. Yes, it was definitely tight at all entry points, air, train, bus, but it managed this without being obtrusive. Although it did seem that I was being searched, scanned and patted down on a regular basis never did I wait more than ten minutes for this service, usually only two from start to finish. Once inside a secure area such as the Olympic park or train station there were no further checks and no further worries. Everyone I spoke with agreed that they felt secure and that security measures were more than adequate. From the train headed up the mountain one would regularly see security camps along the river's edge and were comforted that there were likely plenty more that were unseen.

Transportation
A breeze really. Clean, reliable, simple, if not overly quick. Buses and trains ran so regularly that at first I thought I was just getting supremely lucky arriving at a stop just in time. Travel times from Adler were about half an hour direct to the park, 1.5-2 hours to the Mountain Cluster and 45 minute to the city of Sochi itself - all of it simple and straightforward. With only a three hour window each day 2-5am where services were lessened it was never a limiting factor. Could turn down the heat on a packed bus though.

Accommodations
This may have been the single biggest actual sticking point. Months prior confusion and fear reigned on the internet as there wasn't a room to be had since all were purportedly tied up by the IOC as their fallback plan. Furthering the trouble was that many of the hotels were still under construction making advanced booking dicey. English searches were quite limiting as well it seems.
This played out in a number of ways. People like me booked well ahead to assure themselves a spot and sometimes, also like me, were stuck in drab, still under construction, uncomfortable places for exorbitant prices - non refundable. Others were forced to shelter on one of many cruise ships in either Sochi or Adler port which was in some ways sheltering, inconvenient and not at all cheap - especially to eat or drink. While many others arrived expecting one thing only to find it unavailable and having to be displaced, sometimes partway through their stay. Although only one aspect of the experience it was a major drag.

Venues
All brand new, all beautiful inside and out. The Bolshoy hockey arena which was lit on the outside with the score and flags of the teams playing inside was particularly impressive. When negotiating for tickets the seat hardly mattered as there really weren't bad seats in the house, unless you were stuck behind the glass in a club zone seat while watching your team lose to Canada in men's hockey.

Layout and Amenities
The Olympic park itself was huge. A very neat idea to have everything together but the length from the security entrance to the arenas, most of a kilometre, was too far to easily move around. Food was reasonably priced inside the park too, although none of it was very good. A tallboy of beer for example cost only 150 rub or <$5 CAD but was inexplicably unavailable in the venues themselves. Saving grace was that, as mentioned, once in the park one could move unhindered, including bringing unopened beer bought in the main park into the matches - because curling is just shuffleboard without beer.
There could definitely have been more activities for between events as it felt that if you weren't at the park you were disconnected from the Olympics and if you were at the park but not at the event you wanted you could still feel that way. I couldn't even watch a number of events I wished to on TV because they were not being broadcast anywhere or would be broadcast for a short period before cutting away for something else, a cultural show for example. Without anything to watch they expected you to line up for hours to get into a corporate house, get a cola, test drive a car, play with a tablet; not interested.

Cultural Houses
To be honest besides maybe some of those spinning Russian dancers the Russian cultural exhibits were a snore. The rest of the countries infuriatingly restricted entry to either passport holders, or worse yet, media and friends. Germany let you in the door then asked if you were invited. USA would let you shop but only if you had an American passport. Canada allowed you to sit on the muskoka chairs out front and use WiFi but even as a Canadian I couldn't approach the door or even buy a mitten. Friends and family applauded this from the inside with their unlimited free food, drink and beer but as a taxpayer it really burned not to have a gathering place.
Swiss house did open their doors quickly becoming the default gathering point in Olympic park for post game celebrations while Austria served a similar function in the mountain.

Atmosphere
The biggest sticking point. Perhaps it was coming from Vancouver, called the biggest party that will never be rivaled by a three times Olympic vet, but bringing those expectations threw me off. That said many others including those who hadn't been in Vancouver also questioned it. There really were no gathering points with an atmosphere. The Olympic sites were all but deserted and the few bars that existed were nearly as empty or didn't bother having a working big screen to cater to the games crowd. We had no 'regular' and I found myself scrambling for a way into Olympic park (entry restricted by sold out day passes) just to be a part of something on my days off.

Case and point, for the men's hockey finals I opted not to blow a week's travel budget on attending a 2 hour hockey game. "I'll find a crew at a bar like in Vancouver" I figured, after everyone I'd met through the week had departed already or were going to the game. After fruitlessly pounding the Adler pavement for two hours game day morning I had met only one Canadian and he was going to the game. Exasperated I took the train to Sochi itself where in another 1.5 hours I saw but 3 more, also attending. I was the only Canadian in Sochi not going to be in Canada house or at the game! Resigned I entered a Sochi live site 20 minutes to puck drop and was relieved to find three Canadians - a family of three including a nine year old, but still Canadians! I was very happy that this worked out really nicely. We watched the small Russian crowd whoop once when they stole a bobsled gold medal and then settled in to watch the game. Multi time Olympic spectators we had plenty to discuss and carried on through the win, moving to a bar for more discussion of our experiences through the closing ceremonies and into the night. The Canadians filtered back to the city and a couple (literally two) joined us for post celebrations, then I found another friend at another bar on a hunch. The bottom line is despite being in Sochi you probably saw more Canadians in the second intermission than I did all day. I'm not complaining - I still had a blast, it just wasn't what I was envisioning when I started the day.

Closing Thoughts
The Olympics are definitely an experience, a unique experience that will be unique each time. I've met some great people here who will be receiving messages from me in 3.5 years time. I look forward to Korea 2018, apparently another new build in a city of 44,000 a couple hours from Seoul. Although that time I hope to bring my own Canadian contingency so regardless of where we are there can always be a great Canadian party.

Ukraine is not weak!

Yes, I am going to the Ukraine next.
No, I am not going to Kiev.

In fact the closest that I will be is about 15 hours by train, rest assured. The Canadian travel guide simply advises extra caution in Kiev itself but does not state issue with traveling elsewhere in the country. I will be extra careful.

Funding the Fun

Dear Canadian Olympic Committee,

As a devoted Canadian sports fan I have traveled to Sochi to encourage our fantastic athletes in their respective disciplines. Thus far my support has brought nothing but success to them and our country as a whole. Since each event I have attended has resulted in a Canadian victory (well, a silver medal in men's ski pipe) surely there is a correlation between my attendance and the outcome. Therefore I'm confident you will agree that it is in Canada's best interest that you provide me with a ticket to the men's gold medal hockey game to be played Sunday February 23, 2014 - behind the bench so they can really hear me.

Sincerely,
Stefan Andrushenko

Results

Men's hockey vs Finland: overtime win
Men's ski halfpipe: Silver Medal
Men's curling vs Sweden semi final: Decisive win
Women's curling gold medal match vs Sweden: Olympic history undefeated gold medal
Women's hockey gold medal game vs USA: Come from behind overtime gold medal
Men's hockey semi final vs USA: 1-O regulation win

Men's hockey Czech Republic 0 vs Switzerland 1: I was cheering Swiss?

Battle of North America

Oh, what a night.

Canada's Game: Women's Edition

On a golden relay those fortunate to have seen Olympic curling history marched en masse to the next arena over in high spirits for a similar performance from their hockey compatriots.

The building was alive as the centuries old rivalry continued, both on the ice and in the stands. Every time a faction would start a cheer the opposing contingent would attempt to drown it out. Flags waved, hands clapped, voices were screamed hoarse. Undisciplined play from the defending Olympic champions put them behind the 8 ball, to mix sport references, but their goaltender kept them in it time and again. The smaller but vocal American fan group had the first celebration and after the second, due to more power play trouble, the sizable Canadians were noticeably quieted. Not silenced, but nervousness had sunk in.  You could see it on the tense faces of those donning red and white during the second intermission, while the red, white, and blue were respectfully hopeful.

The third saw a strong effort from the Canadian squad go unrewarded time and again and I worried that it would begin to get inside their heads, which at 2-0 would mean game over. Short outbursts from the crowd were not nearly as spirited as earlier in the game - it's tough to holler with your stomach in a knot. From my seat I annoyed most of the Russians near me with my incessant encouragement. Finally with under 4 minutes remaining there was the breakthrough goal. There's life in these ladies yet!

With the goaltender out early I tracked the potentially controversial game-ending goal (outta the way ref!) and knew it would hit the post allowing Canada another opportunity. That's all they would need as the sea of maple leaves lost it, leaping up and down and rejoicing. Such an epic comeback but it wasn't over yet.

Reserved optimism held as people now believed that it was possible and one way or another it would be over soon. An overtime penalty kill is horrifying to watch so there was a huge sigh as it lasted merely five seconds, even if it was more of a light tap than a slash. Finally on the power play the puck was fired to the back of the net and all kinds of pent up excitement unleashed. Pure elation! The storybook script had a fairy tale ending and our ragged voices whooped some more as the golden medals were hung around the very deserving necks.

Tweet:Sochi Trifecta

Sochi hat trick today: Curling Gold, Hockey Gold, sunshine bronze

Tweet:Canada House

Minor celeb spottings from Canada house Muskoka chairs, Tess & Scott, Elliotte Friedman, the sun

Spies Stefan!

All the greats are returning their careers to TV these days so I thought I'd join in. Multiple sightings at the men's halfpipe ski where my fantastic cheering from the Canadian family zone helped bring home a silver. (I had been with the Riddle family but dumped them for the Dorey's who were in first and had to then be a double agent when Dorey fell on both his finals.) Not likely to be seen from the rafters of the USA - Canada women's hockey gold but if I blow my budget I might be rinkside for the men's semi. First up, men's curling tonight!

Tweets:Radical!

I had an essay written but I think this pic just about sums up #Sochi

Tweet:Decorated

At least the hazardous, caved-in sewer covers are well decorated. #WatchYourStepSochi

Tweet:Roll with it

Who's in on the joke, Putin? Just got Rickrolled on Olympic bus!

Tweet:Cosmopolitan

The front of Cosmo on the magazine rack clearly says 'Cosmo' in English characters, then a whole bunch of Cyrillic words and then boldly 'SEX'

Czech Checked!

Warning: trying to get to this 9pm game involved a lot of numbers. Get your pencils ready.

7:13pm
Maddeningly the free, comfortable train trip from Sochi airport to Adler train station was only 9 minutes long but I'd just missed the last half hourly departure meaning a wait three times as long as the journey itself. In case you missed it in the previous post, I was in a hurry.

7:49pm
Alongside a crush of people I burst from the train station and it's semi chaotic. The easily recognisable rainbow suited volunteers seem a good resource to direct me to my local hostel I know to be 3km away from the shoddily hand drawn map they provided. The first I speak to directs me away from the buses I anticipated boarding and back into the second floor of the train station I'd just left. I join the queue for security in haste but mulling it over it seemed a buck passing by the Russian speaking volunteer so I withdrew from the line and tried again. This time a mob of volunteer youngsters team up to pore over the map eventually coming up with 'taxi?' I ask about a bus and eventually get to the point where I can get on a bus halfway and go by foot with my massive backpack the rest of the way. Settled. What bus? 125.

Turning to the row of buses the 125 was right in front of me, jammed full and ready to depart. The volunteers run me over, shout my stop name to me and push on my pack to make me fit in the door.

7:58pm
The bus cost 19 rubles which I pass through a couple hands to the driver on some sort of honour system. From my offline maps I attempt to prepare the latter part of my trip, by foot, but am not making much sense of it. My good fortune placed a Russian saviour beside me on the bus who meekly offered his help though admitting "with English I'm like a dog, I understand but cannot talk back." He gets off the bus with me and points in the right direction. I shout my thanks and run off into the warm night, backpack and frontpack bouncing.

8:16pm
Searching for #85 I run more than a few minutes down the road finally recognising a hotel familiar from pictures. I duck through the gate but there's absolutely no sign - but there wasn't in Moscow either. There's also no front entrance but a few dodgy side entrances and the third one has a man who clearly says this is private apartment building, #84, trying looking across the street.

8:24pm
Having run further down the street to #52 on one side and #17 in the other exasperated I think this can't be right. Double checking the address (of course not written on the map cuz that would make it not a shoddy map) I realise I was in fact looking for #84 not #85 and curse mildly (for the sake of this blog) while turning to backtrack.

8:30pm
The apartment complex is no more inviting and I just keep walking hastily alongside it as it gets dodgier and I'm finally being the building with some back alleyway, albeit moderately lit. I enter another doorway to find still no sign, a staircase, and a doorway with a welcome mat. Desperation and lack of options I their open wide the door behind the welcome mat, and freeze.
A family is sitting around their living room and all turn in confusion to glare at me.
"Hostel?" I squeak. The patriarch begins lambasting me in strong Russian and I murmur an apology, slam the door and run back the way I came with glances to see if he is following me with a broom or something less friendly.

8:31pm
Besides my heart firmly in my throat nothing has changed about my situation and the clock is ticking. Not knowing what else to do I peek through a curtain of a stained glass window and then approach the doorway. This time I ring the bell. The man is gruff but when I ask for the hostel he points back around the corner, aka the danger zone potentially with a broom wielding Russky, and says 6.
Back I hustle past the doormat ("Welcome" my ass) and up flight after flight, huffing with the pack. In my hurry I lose count of the flights of this seemingly abandoned, unsigned stairwell and start back to the bottom to count again when someone comes along and tells me to keep going - all the way to the top.

8:34pm
I tumble through the door a sweaty disheveled mess to the merriment of the bunch of Aussies and Americans hanging around having a drink. My story flows from my mouth as I being ripping through my pack for what I need. They are helpful as the hostel attendants are no where to be found (still aren't) and assure me I can dump my bag in a corner. Talking me out of running the two kilometres to the Olympic park (which would have brought me to the wrong side and been a disaster) they direct me back to the bus stop I'd just left.

8:41pm
100 rubles are converted into dinner at the convenience store - blue Powerade and a jumbo snickers. To go with my lunch of Twix and a stale airline bun and breakfast of half a pack of peanuts.

8:44pm
Bus B6 pulls up just as I arrive and I leap on.

9:01pm
Finally we stop in Olympic Park Hub and following a young man and his father we begin running to security. Denied! This is apparently staff entrance, the bus has pulled away and we have to run around the corner.. As we run the young man says in hesitant English "Olympics. We are like sportsmen." I laugh and run faster than the father.

9:14pm
The wrong gate has set me back but security was relatively painless. Now begins the apparently 25 minute walk to the arena that at my vacation-exercise-level takes me something like a mere 24-minute run. What I would give to have a montage of the 85 or so photos I bombed while running across the Olympic park as I took in the familiar Fisk stadium and Olympic flame for the first time firsthand.

9:27pm
I've never been so pleased to see the Swiss flag, projected on top of the Bolshoy Arena located at the further end of this massive park. One more security hurdle before Rockying the arena steps and scanning in. 

9m57s 1st period
Halfway through the first period I flop into my awesome seat for an (actually) entertaining tilt, a 1-0 Swiss upset on Jonas Hiller's shoulders, despite Jagr's birthday and Kaberle's best effort.

Czech Check

Scored row 8 ticket for Czech vs. Switzerland at 2/7 the cost. Only problem is I'm at the airport, don't know where I'm staying, haven't eaten and the game starts in 90 minutes.. Let's go Tomas Kaberle!

Moscow Positions

Security Guard

Requirements include:
- Grumpy attitude
- Scowl
- Laziness
- Simple mindedness

Must be able to spend long hours doing nothing, even when the metal detector or alarm goes off

Starting date: I imagine we can find one mall entrance, apartment building, store, bar, or street corner somewhere in Moscow that doesn't already have a guard and surely requires one.

Snow removal technician

Flexible availability a must as you're going to be on the sidewalk during and after every snowfall. Your role will be vital in keeping Moscow's sidewalks clear of the enemy, slush. Do not fret about recent warm temperatures as you can still work by leaning on your broom or shovel and occasionally shifting one snowbank to another.

Note that those who show promise may move up in their role, literally. Select roof clearing positions available if willing to strap in and shovel roof tops down onto the passers by.

Luggage handler

Strength and good humour will make you the perfect candidate for manipulating one large backpack from city to city across eastern Europe. Beginning immediately and continuing for four months. Rate set at one Canadian dollar ($) per pound (lb) per hour (h) - approximately $40/h. Room and board not included.

Moscow Animals

Sure almost every city has pigeons, it's the little brown birds here that get into everything from the pedestrian underpasses, to the subways, to the malls and even spotted in the grocery store.

The fabled Moscow strays haven't been nearly as prominent as anticipated. I have only seen a pointy eared, perky tailed, brown and tan pup cutely trotting around an outdoor mall receiving the attention he desired, and two days later that pup all grown up and lazing on the snowy slope of the Kremlin. No subway spottings yet!

In the sports betting bar there was cruelly a maze which fat rats were being raced through much to the disapproval of, well of only me, since there was nobody else present.

Finally the chickens! Seen both in the roads and behind the wheels. Primarily at well marked crosswalks of 5 lane streets where the one behind the wheel refuses to stop until the other one on the road is actually directly in front of it in its lane. Nearly witnessed a chicken with its head knocked off as lane after lane of brakes locked up one snowy, frozen morning.

Armoured but Hardly Dangerous

As instructed by a few guides I arrived at the Kremlin ticket office a dozen minutes before opening hours but with a scant few wannabe patrons milling about it seemed unnecessary. A couple minutes after schedule (or on Moscow time) a ticket window other than the one we were all queued at cracked its blinds and naturally all of the people who had arrived after me were huddled around it before I could even consider jumping ship. Sighing I couldn't beat them and scooted over just in time for the few behind me to bump up to the now opened window I had just vacated.

Despite ending up at the very end of all lines it appeared I'd still have a crack at an Armoury ticket but the lady refused me. As I'd just witnessed from an adamant 12 year old boy (and had already witnessed on a few previous occasions) the appropriate reaction when told 'no' by somebody is to raise your voice, gesticulate wildly and laugh defiantly in their face - but without the language I could hardly accomplish step one, and two and three just aren't my style. Eventually I deduced she simply couldn't make change for my thousand rouble bill (baller!) and I joined the end of yet another line before securing my ticket and scurrying after the surprisingly spry fur-coated Russian grandmothers and juvie. Pulling up to the ubiquitous security gate just in front of a gaggle of Russian school children I regretted not bringing my headphones and was relieved to find an English language audio guide.

It succeeded only in offering the dullest explanations of some of the most astounding artifacts I have ever seen. "Here is the solid gold 3kg plate holding Catherine the Great's wedding crown consisting of the invaluable gems seen, encrusted with over 300 diamonds. Now please direct your attention to case 22 behind you." No warning to first put on your sunglasses for the glare from the jewels nor a moment to close your gaping mouth before "this chain mail from the 12th century is composed of 20,000 individually stamped hoops, making it easier to manoeuvre than the full body armour seen weighing twice as much at 30 kg. This was *yawn* donated in 1864 by somebody you've never heard of." And finally having pointed out an entire-lamb-sized golden platter depicting a long tale within its carving the monotone added, as if an afterthought, "this is one of a 3000 piece set." There are 2999 more of these??

Perhaps my favourite understatement of this magnificent collection came from the numbered explanation index cards in each cabinet - presumably provided to further enlighten visitors about the treasures on display. Curious about the pair of metre and a half tall intricately engraved silver and gold v-shaped objects I looked them up to be told simply "Giant Cups."

Having whistled, laughed and impressed-scoffed my way through the extraordinary exhibits of utter opulence, while successfully dodging the young groups of nose-pickers, I had returned to a late fifteenth century copper globe. It showed only partially discovered coast lines on many continents and 'Terra Australis Incognita' engraved over an otherwise blank south pole. As I marvelled a Russian man around my age struck up a conversation, a rarity as most people either blush or bluster when I speak in English, and soon found myself sharing a drink with a third Russian man of the week, learning about the politics, education and lifestyle of my host country while also picking up on the common attitudes and beliefs. As an added bonus he was visiting from the Russian city I am set to visit post Olympics, Krasnodar, and has agreed to show me around!

Moskva

All was swell traveling from Toronto to Moscow. Following a proper sendoff the night before I didn't have much trouble catching a few winks between gladly seeing that Life of Pi largely stayed true to the book and assisting the elderly, Russian-speaking gent in the aisle seat next to me with his screen. He may not have much technological prowess but, oh boy, what a bladder!