That a plane crashed at Moscow's other airport, Domodedovo, two days before I flew was neither here nor there. My family couldn't decide whether to mention it to me or not. I had to tell them in the end, and that I was no more or less frightened.
And Belorusskaya: what a beautiful view. I pause briefly in the dirty snow and breathe in the fact that I have really made it; from a little seed of an idea planted by the other members of my Russian evening class to this snowscape 3000 miles east of Leeds.
Leningradsky Pt is a six lane highway, and every set apart house number represents a "dom", a large building of apartments. I give up at Dynamo Station, and hail a taxi [don't tell the Rough Guide].
Here's a sign says Happy New Year. And here is Hotel Aeroport.
Hey, rock and roll, it's Midnight in Moscow, New Year's Eve.
Depressed by lack of ambience in hotel I set off up the six lane highway that is Leningrasky Prospect in search of the fireworks, find a 24 hours shops selling "Products".
Check out the prices of the beers and seek bread and cheese. An assistant comes over to tell me that I can't buy the beers because of the law (zakon). Later I read there is a new law to do with alcohol come in on New Year's Day, which as of an hour ago it is.
Depressed by the lack of wifi on my floor, I eat the bread and cheese in room, then go to bar for a pint and some emails. The barman is nice, but I don't think he's ready for my pathetic, post-airflight attempts at his language. Here, of course it is the early hours. My body is still in UK time, and not quite ready for bed. I watch tele for a bit.