21 November
Didn’t sleep that well. Mainly because my two companions spent most of the evening giggling like little girls to the sitcom they were watching on the tele. It was really irritating in fact. Almost funny that they had these high-pitched ridiculous giggles but spoke in gruff, low voices.
Having a good chat with the remaining guy in my wagon. He’s from Krasnoyarsk. Like a lot of the good people I’ve met on the trains it seems – shame I am not visiting there on this trip. On his way to Tyumen and from there to Surgat I think. The train stopped for 20mins at Tyumen so I went outside for a smoke. Christ it was cold! Shocking that the sun can be so bright and there isn’t much snow but the temperature is so bloody cold. Asked the provodnitsa what the temperature was and she said -10C. Nothing apparently. Personal note: wear more clothes when going outside next time.
Got the wagon to myself now. But very hungry so might head the restaurant car and see if I can score some grub there in a bit. Still have that tasty sausage dish from last night in my mind. Would have bought something from the platforms but there was nobody there selling anything. Had a suitably greasy pork cutlet and fried potatoes in the restaurant car. Am in high spirits and looking forward to getting to Yekaterinburg. The start of European Russia as I understand it.
I called Andrei (my new host in Ekat) since he didn’t bother to reply to my text. He explained that “he no good speak English” but hopefully between my no good speak Russian and his English we have confirmed that he is going to meet me at the platform. Looking at the map it appears I’m staying a good distance from the centre of the town again.
Christ, I’m knackered. Well it has certainly been an eventful evening since arriving into Yekaterinburg. Met Andrei at the station who is the most interesting host I have had yet. I say interesting but by no means best. He is probably in his mid-50s. He speaks less English than I do Russian which I suppose is good practice although he isn’t exactly my first choice for a conversation partner. First thing he said when he met me off the train was that we were going to see an American jazz musician. Ok. When he said American he cast his hand across his face and said “black”. He wasn’t incidentally. He was called Steve Turre and he was superb! Apparently quite a famous Jazz trombonist, he also played the conch and had a collection of shells with specially cut mouthpieces, each for a different register. But I am digressing. Back to the train station. Andrei shepherded me along to the car where he introduced me to Evgeny who I assumed was his son at first. He wasn’t. 24. Nice guy. No English.
They took me on a mini guided tour of the city to kill time before the concert. It was bitterly cold and would be for the duration of my stay in Yekaterinburg. We blitzed throught the Romanov Cathedral which looked really interesting even though we were only in there for about 5 minutes. The assassinated Tsar Nicholas II and his family were recently made saints by the Orthodox church. Much of the tourist sites here seem to be dominated by the Romanovs as it was the place of their assassination. As we were driving Andrei pointed out the President’s residence which is apparently where Medvedev stays when he’s in town. It just looked like a Tsarist palace to me, ironically.
All the while this was going on Evgeny was cheerfully chauffeuring us along while I sat in the back seat trying to work out what the crack was. At one point Andrei got out to buy batteries. E. asked me if I was bored. I didn’t fully understand the question at the time so probably just said ‘Да’. I wasn’t bored. Just confused.
Anyway, we got to the venue which was a concert hall with a few different venues inside it. A bit like the HK Exhibition centre though smaller. The gig was in one of the larger halls and there was a good turn out for a Sunday night. It was quite a smart crowd with some people more glam than others – I fell into the latter category, naturally. The gig itself was great. Based on the programme notes I think Steve Turre is quite well known in jazz circles but then I know nothing about Jazz. He was backed by a 4-piece Russian band who I think he is touring the country with: piano, bass, drums, sax. He put on a great show and I really enjoyed it. Highlights being his ‘jazz battles’ with the saxophonist on soprano sax, his sea-shells and various mutes he used including a toilet plunger. After the concert Andrei insisted we go back-stage to meet Steve which I thought was a bit pushy but Evgeny and I indulged him nevertheless. I had a brief chat with Steve about Ronnie Scott’s in London and how it had gone down-hill as a venue. Andrei kept chirping in and wanted me to translate whatever it was he was blathering about. I just made something up and we left shortly before we outstayed our welcome.
Back at Andrei’s flat now. Turns out he’s an art dealer. Andrei and Evgeny chatted away over the tea and cabbage together for what seemed like hours with me now both bored and tired. I think they know each other through ‘work’ somehow. A little bit weired-out by everything as the setting and host are both quite strange. Every spare wall space in A’s flat is taken up by a really mixture of paintings ranging from old icons to modern portraits of Nicholas II to Holbein prints to modern crap. There’s a samovar on the table from 1892 and a bookcase filled with all sorts of junk behind it.
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