Getting back, barely...
Nov. 11th, 2006 08:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexpgpThe plane arrived an hour late from Moscow and disgorged the incoming early team. By this time, our group had largely gone through customs and was waiting in the departure "lounge" for the boarding announcement.
It was a fairly routine flight, up until we got to Moscow (although personally, I could have done with a little less heat). The first indication of anything going on out of the ordinary came when I noticed we had descended into the clouds, which had formed a continuous layer underneath us since leaving Baikonur, and stayed there, with only an occasional banking motion to give our balance centers a workout. It was clear to me that we had been instructed to circle, but as our charter's pilot was not exactly the chatty type, there was no telling why.
We must've orbited for the better part of an hour, entirely in the clouds, when finally, I felt the plane pitch down slightly. A few minutes later, the flaps whined their way into the partway down position. After another few minutes, the landing gear went down with the usual clatter and the flaps screeched into their fully extended configuration. We broke through the clouds. There was snow on the ground. I could make out individual cars on the road below.
We dropped to about 100 meters altitude when suddenly, the pilot retracted the landing gear, pulled in the flaps, and applied full power, all in one smooth operation. We rose back into the cloud layer. We had no indication as to whether this go-around was the pilot's idea, or the tower's. That question was answered a couple of minutes later, as one of the stewardesses got on the intercom and informed us that we had been waved off at Sheremetevo and instructed to divert to Domodedovo airport, which is to the south of Moscow.
After about another 20 minutes, we arrived at Domodedovo and were guided to a parking spot. About 10 minutes later, a bus came out to pick us up and take us to the main terminal.
The main terminal looks new and pretty snazzy. We were processed through passport control fairly quickly, and went to the baggage area to wait for our luggage. Early in the wait, the idea was bandied about of getting the bus that was waiting for us at Sheremetevo to drive down to where we had actually landed, but that idea was dismissed as unrealistic: it would take the better part of three hours, said the bus company, to get the bus there.
As it turned out, we got a lot of practice waiting, as nobody apparently informed the appropriate department that there was a Tupolev 134 out there that required unloading. So, folks ended up with plenty of time - just over two hours, in fact - to figure out how to get from Domodedovo into town. There was some talk of renting a bus, renting a number of taxis, and even taking a train from the airport into town, followed by another ride on the Metro.
At a little in front of 7:30 pm, a small group of us - Dr. Gagarin, Maya, Eugene L. (another interpreter), and I - passed through the customs "green corridor," where the officials were randomly x-raying the luggage of folks just returning from trips overseas. When the follow at the entrance heard that we had arrived from Baiknour, he waved us past the machine.
I brought up the end of the line, following Maya, Eugene, and the doc to a window where we bought tickets for the "airport express," a train that went from the airport to the Paveletsky terminal, nonstop. We missed the 7:30 pm train by about 2 minutes. By 8 pm, a number of campaigners had joined us, and when we boarded the next train, our section of the car looked a little like a bus headed for the Luna, except wider.
The ride took longer than I expected, about half an hour, if memory serves. As everyone else took off for the "green line" with a Marriott hotel as their eventual destination, Eugene and I headed for the "ring line" which completes a circle around the central portion of Moscow. Eugene, who is a really nice guy with a bottomless curiosity, was kind enough to help me with my luggage and went with me as far as the platform that would take me to the Perovo Metro station, which is not far from Alla's apartment.
Along the way, I saw a homeless dog in the metro, which I don't ever recall seeing before. The animal, a golden retriever, followed the crowd onto the platform and wandered about making friends. I was concerned that the dog might be spooked by an arriving train, but should have known better: the dog barely batted an eye when the train arrived, and even got on the train with us. Eugene told me that such dogs often board trains and travel from station to station.
When I surfaced from underground at Perovo, there was a slight snow falling and the sidewalks really hadn't been cleared much. There was a mob of people standing in the street trying to flag down a car - and not necessarily a taxi - to take them where they were going. I elected to walk, and that is how I got to Alla's last night.
I had planned to put a good dent in my current outstanding assignment today, but did very little in that direction. Instead, when Alla suggested we go out to do some shopping, I jumped at the chance. It turned out, however, that the local store Alla wanted to go to was unexpectedly closed this Saturday, so we boarded a bus and went over the equivalent of one metro stop, to Novogireevo, where there was another store of the same chain and where Alla was going to meet her daughter, Olga, to go shopping for shoes ("You don't want to come along for that!" I was advised).
At any rate, once the ladies left, I hoofed it back to the apartment, stopping at a "BILLAS" supermarket to see if I could find some snacks of the sort you cannot find in the US without looking hard (for example, pickled squid), and then went home. Alla and Olga returned from shopping, shared a bite, and Olga departed.
Me, I'm going to take it easy for the rest of the evening. I'll work tomorrow.
Cheers...
It was a fairly routine flight, up until we got to Moscow (although personally, I could have done with a little less heat). The first indication of anything going on out of the ordinary came when I noticed we had descended into the clouds, which had formed a continuous layer underneath us since leaving Baikonur, and stayed there, with only an occasional banking motion to give our balance centers a workout. It was clear to me that we had been instructed to circle, but as our charter's pilot was not exactly the chatty type, there was no telling why.
We must've orbited for the better part of an hour, entirely in the clouds, when finally, I felt the plane pitch down slightly. A few minutes later, the flaps whined their way into the partway down position. After another few minutes, the landing gear went down with the usual clatter and the flaps screeched into their fully extended configuration. We broke through the clouds. There was snow on the ground. I could make out individual cars on the road below.
We dropped to about 100 meters altitude when suddenly, the pilot retracted the landing gear, pulled in the flaps, and applied full power, all in one smooth operation. We rose back into the cloud layer. We had no indication as to whether this go-around was the pilot's idea, or the tower's. That question was answered a couple of minutes later, as one of the stewardesses got on the intercom and informed us that we had been waved off at Sheremetevo and instructed to divert to Domodedovo airport, which is to the south of Moscow.
After about another 20 minutes, we arrived at Domodedovo and were guided to a parking spot. About 10 minutes later, a bus came out to pick us up and take us to the main terminal.
The main terminal looks new and pretty snazzy. We were processed through passport control fairly quickly, and went to the baggage area to wait for our luggage. Early in the wait, the idea was bandied about of getting the bus that was waiting for us at Sheremetevo to drive down to where we had actually landed, but that idea was dismissed as unrealistic: it would take the better part of three hours, said the bus company, to get the bus there.
As it turned out, we got a lot of practice waiting, as nobody apparently informed the appropriate department that there was a Tupolev 134 out there that required unloading. So, folks ended up with plenty of time - just over two hours, in fact - to figure out how to get from Domodedovo into town. There was some talk of renting a bus, renting a number of taxis, and even taking a train from the airport into town, followed by another ride on the Metro.
At a little in front of 7:30 pm, a small group of us - Dr. Gagarin, Maya, Eugene L. (another interpreter), and I - passed through the customs "green corridor," where the officials were randomly x-raying the luggage of folks just returning from trips overseas. When the follow at the entrance heard that we had arrived from Baiknour, he waved us past the machine.
I brought up the end of the line, following Maya, Eugene, and the doc to a window where we bought tickets for the "airport express," a train that went from the airport to the Paveletsky terminal, nonstop. We missed the 7:30 pm train by about 2 minutes. By 8 pm, a number of campaigners had joined us, and when we boarded the next train, our section of the car looked a little like a bus headed for the Luna, except wider.
The ride took longer than I expected, about half an hour, if memory serves. As everyone else took off for the "green line" with a Marriott hotel as their eventual destination, Eugene and I headed for the "ring line" which completes a circle around the central portion of Moscow. Eugene, who is a really nice guy with a bottomless curiosity, was kind enough to help me with my luggage and went with me as far as the platform that would take me to the Perovo Metro station, which is not far from Alla's apartment.
Along the way, I saw a homeless dog in the metro, which I don't ever recall seeing before. The animal, a golden retriever, followed the crowd onto the platform and wandered about making friends. I was concerned that the dog might be spooked by an arriving train, but should have known better: the dog barely batted an eye when the train arrived, and even got on the train with us. Eugene told me that such dogs often board trains and travel from station to station.
When I surfaced from underground at Perovo, there was a slight snow falling and the sidewalks really hadn't been cleared much. There was a mob of people standing in the street trying to flag down a car - and not necessarily a taxi - to take them where they were going. I elected to walk, and that is how I got to Alla's last night.
I had planned to put a good dent in my current outstanding assignment today, but did very little in that direction. Instead, when Alla suggested we go out to do some shopping, I jumped at the chance. It turned out, however, that the local store Alla wanted to go to was unexpectedly closed this Saturday, so we boarded a bus and went over the equivalent of one metro stop, to Novogireevo, where there was another store of the same chain and where Alla was going to meet her daughter, Olga, to go shopping for shoes ("You don't want to come along for that!" I was advised).
At any rate, once the ladies left, I hoofed it back to the apartment, stopping at a "BILLAS" supermarket to see if I could find some snacks of the sort you cannot find in the US without looking hard (for example, pickled squid), and then went home. Alla and Olga returned from shopping, shared a bite, and Olga departed.
Me, I'm going to take it easy for the rest of the evening. I'll work tomorrow.
Cheers...
