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Never miss an opportunity...
Dec. 15th, 2008 11:34 amSo here I am at Sheremetevo, in the business class lounge, in the "computer corner." The machine I am using will let me use either a German keyboard or a Russian one (the English layout types QWERTY as "<>PYF). The major difference, as far as I can see is having to hit the z key to type a y, and majorly fubared punctuation.
Anyway, my flight boards in just under an hour, and I don't want to spend all of it at the computer.
I arose this morning at 0530 (can't find the colon) and packed, which was easy, as Alla had given me a small duffel that I used as a second piece of luggage. The taxi was late picking me up by nearly 30 minutes, and it took almost another hour to cover the next 4 kilometers. One of these days, when I need to blow off steam, I shall describe the shortcomings of your typical Moscow driver (along with references to probable ancestry, if you get my meaning).
Once we got to the airport, everything went pretty smoothly, with one new wrinkle. In times past, one's carry-on was searched and one went through a metal detector at the gate, before entering a glassed-in waiting area. Now, there's a nifty new station at the back end of passport control, where everyone goes through some kind of body scanner (the name of which escapes me, but it's a compound name with an intercapital).
One thing I kept noticing time and again during the past couple of days (and also during much of our stay in Baikonur) was the prevalence of homeless dogs mixing freely with humans. They sleep in groups near the metro stations, wander up and down train tracks as locomotives go by, and despite living a short and brutish life, seem to interact well with the surrounding humans, who can be depended upon - generally speaking - to provide a handout here and there.
As the taxi passed the gate where one picks up a parking ticket for the airport, I spied a rather unlikely pair of canine best friends, consisting of a German Shepherd and a small terrier, who almost had to run to keep up with his big companion. It reminded of Disney's Lady and the Tramp, though I am sure the reality is a lot harsher.
I think I'll go see if I can cadge a soda or something from the fridge. Home soon, I hope.
Cheers...
Anyway, my flight boards in just under an hour, and I don't want to spend all of it at the computer.
I arose this morning at 0530 (can't find the colon) and packed, which was easy, as Alla had given me a small duffel that I used as a second piece of luggage. The taxi was late picking me up by nearly 30 minutes, and it took almost another hour to cover the next 4 kilometers. One of these days, when I need to blow off steam, I shall describe the shortcomings of your typical Moscow driver (along with references to probable ancestry, if you get my meaning).
Once we got to the airport, everything went pretty smoothly, with one new wrinkle. In times past, one's carry-on was searched and one went through a metal detector at the gate, before entering a glassed-in waiting area. Now, there's a nifty new station at the back end of passport control, where everyone goes through some kind of body scanner (the name of which escapes me, but it's a compound name with an intercapital).
One thing I kept noticing time and again during the past couple of days (and also during much of our stay in Baikonur) was the prevalence of homeless dogs mixing freely with humans. They sleep in groups near the metro stations, wander up and down train tracks as locomotives go by, and despite living a short and brutish life, seem to interact well with the surrounding humans, who can be depended upon - generally speaking - to provide a handout here and there.
As the taxi passed the gate where one picks up a parking ticket for the airport, I spied a rather unlikely pair of canine best friends, consisting of a German Shepherd and a small terrier, who almost had to run to keep up with his big companion. It reminded of Disney's Lady and the Tramp, though I am sure the reality is a lot harsher.
I think I'll go see if I can cadge a soda or something from the fridge. Home soon, I hope.
Cheers...
