ARKHANGELSKY

ARKHANGELSKI

We are back and found the hair dressers no problem. As we passed the little school the nursery children were out and they were singing their little song “The farmers in his den!” How sweet they sounded and reminded me about the teen when he was that age. Doesn’t seem like that long ago, an yet a million years ago other days.

The hair dressers are a blog in its own. To access it, you have to know roughly the shop that it is next to, when you come to the shop, head left and aim for fire escape stairs. The metal framed stairwell, takes you up two flights to the balcony of a few offices. When your sleeve brushes the plant, you know that is where the door is.

It’s a tiny room and to confuse us more, today they have changed it around inside. Just as I was getting used to where the seats were.

Well, the young girl who runs it is only 24 and her Mum works there too, she is about 42. The stories we get told would make your hair curl, in fact, she has to use her best quality hair straighteners for me.

You get some very odd characters in there I tell you. I’m sure a lot of them have done time?

Put it this way, there is a back entrance and a massage room, where people go in one way and don’t seem to come out?

Having said that, the lady who does our hair and her daughter,   are so nice and does a great job with my hair. I am the most boring person and just get what is needed to do to my hair. Dead ends off and straightened. Hub likes it long, though gradually, I am getting it shorter. The back is really long, but has cut the sides like feathery?

They  put gel on Hubs  hair and he does not like that though I am sure Teen will be impressed at his Dads new  look, though it will be back to normal tomorrow.

So part one of my housework is done and now writing to  you all, then will do part two of work and start packing Hubs case for tomorrow.

Well he packs and I just wash iron and hand them over.

It will be red hot where he is going. Bangkok!

Already, he has the first six months of his year planned for next year. So far, six countries in six months and no doubt, there will be loads more?  

Oh, I hope the teen will be okay when he comes home? Every day he goes to school, or goes anywhere, he writes an X, to let me know he is alright and there safe. Today he didn’t. I panicked and phoned the  school against my Hubs wishes, as he always has a half full cup of tea, mine is always half empty.

The school who were as lovely as they were when I was deciding where to place our Son, said they would go and see if he was in science?

Oh, I thought they would look at some registrar? Can you imagine?

The secretary knocks on the door of the classroom and on her entry, asks if the teen was in, saying in a lovely loud voice, his name, followed by

“I have your Mum on the phone; she said you have not sent her a kiss this morning when you got to school?”

That will be one for his street cred?

Well he did send me one and that was at lunch time, saying his phone failed. This is why I worried, he never forgets. I just hope the secretary was discrete?

Ok, today’s story. Are you sitting comfortably? A nice drink of your choice and all ready to go into Fi land?

In Russia, just outside Moscow, there is a place called Arkhangelski. You used to have to get permission to visit the place.

And the excitement of whether or not you would receive permission was almost unbearable, but in a nice way.

When we did get the all clear, off we would go to our favourite restaurant.

It was deep in the countryside, surrounded by berioska trees. Tall thin white birch trees.

The place like most locations you went to in Russia had the smells and signs of fear and intrigue.

It was a huge wooden building and had lots of private rooms inside. The smell of the burning wood as you went in the summer, approaching the entrance, the crisp crunchy leaves into the autumn and the crunchy soft snow in the winter, was all that made the atmosphere of the place and time.

A heavy wooden door to enter and we were asked like in most public buildings in Russia, to remove our coats and leave them behind a desk, receiving a number to show where our coat is.

The lights were all small lamps on the walls, shining above the large gilded framed paintings of the former Soviet heroes.

Lots of rich reds and heavy wooden chairs.

The food was great and the ambience of the place was another world.

The smell of it, the laughter and the clinking of the finest Chrystal glasses.

The heavy stone pots from the oven to the table made it so homely.

There was always a band on in the main room.

Everyone danced and most of the time, there were Georgians in and we all ended up dancing their typical way, because I was blonde, I used to often get picked to dance in the middle, and I blooming loved it. I danced right through my teenage life. I danced to be free.

No one knew each other at the start of the night; everyone knew each other at the end!

It was a family. An Arkhangelsk I family.

A family you would never see again, an yet would also never forget. I loved that place and spent so many birthdays out there in the country side.

Which reminds me, I have a lovely story to tell you tomorrow about staying with a friend in Russia, lots of laughs on that one?

We would leave our lovely wooden restaurant happy, full and the feeling of wellbeing.

Take care my friends. X