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!
No comments:
Post a Comment