gorky park
today russia celebrated its
independence day (everything could be closed tomorrow). we got out of the
apartment about 11:30 and decided to walk to gorky park (we're always on the
lookout for a park where the kids can run on grass and swing on swings). it was
a long and interesting walk, and an unexpectedly hot and sunny day.
I woke about 5:30 a.m. today.
The problem was not only that the light was hitting my face (I'm not a person
who sleeps well when it's light out) but the whining of mosquitos as they landed
and got me (no one in my family needs insect repellent around me because I
attract all the biting
bugs).
So I woke and started reading about Soviet military history. I was interested to learn that the reason Lenin moved the capital from St. Petersburg (then Petrograd) back to Moscow was entirely pragmatic: the draconian peace terms of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk (1917) left Petrograd too geographically isolated and vulnerable.
Anyway once everyone else woke up we had to figure out what to do with our Sunday. The problem with getting out of the house late is that the kids will need to sleep within two hours of leaving the house, so then we have to think about taking the big double stroller so they can have a place to sleep when they finally konk out. But the problem with the double stroller is that we really can't take the Metro, since Moscow is dramatically kid-unfriendly (and wheelchair unfriendly) that way.
We decided to walk the whole way to Gorky Park (you remember the Martin Cruz Smith thriller that was made into a movie starring William Hurt, Lee Marvin, and Brian Denehy?). About a forty-five minute walk along the Moscow river. A good workout for Monica and me but a bit of a stretch for Mom.
So we went for it (Mom gamely agreed to try). It was cloudy but warm as we started. The short route through Red Square was completely blocked off due to the need for tighter security in preparation for Independence Day celebrations, so we took the long way around the Kremlin and across the Moscow river (which gave nice views of the Kremlin itself).
After a number of obstacles and weird street crossings we made it to a stable path along the Moscow river. Not so nice as Paris's Seine (a bit dirty and dingy), but still nice in the sound of the water lapping against the stone revetments. The kids fell asleep after about fifteen minutes.
After half an hour the sun came out and about then we came upon a mildly decrepit park called "Artists Park;" filled with neglected but interesting sculptures. Monica was convinced it would be a great place to take the kids (we'd seen swings) and so we paid the 100 rubles to get in.
Decrepit is of course only another word for charming in a different context, and after staying awhile that's what this odd place turned out to be. First we noticed the tree puffy stuff that looks like snow and falls everywhere in the city lay thick about here.
Then we came upon an old cafe/bistro and being hungry decided to try something. We got a shaded table near a row of busts and sat near two other couples with children. The kids woke up within two seconds of one another and we nibbled on bliny with caviar, sour cream, and jam; cold local beers, and roasted salmon and chicken. Wonderful.
Ingrid and Sam ran around and after awhile we left to complete our epic journey on foot to Gorky Park. After a time we came to what looked like an impromptu flea market as stalls filled with crafts lined either side of the walk. But it turned into a more formal art walk.
The art was very interesting: very much a pastiche of cliché styles with subtle differences (some quite good variations of Dutch masters, impressionism, expressionism, cubism, and so on). Then there were the crass and vulgar bits (including everyone's favorite poker-playing, cigar-smoking dogs, and a naked portrait of Drew Barrymore). The only problem for us was that for the first time since we arrived, instead of turning colder and more rainy, the sky cleared and the sun turned hot. We had no water with us and no hats or sunscreen for the kids (I finally remembered to bring my umbrella this time though).
After about another twenty minutes we made it to the line to buy tickets for entry to the Park. The wait was only about fifteen minutes and admission cost 50 roubles each. Security was airport-like: we got waved ahead of some others due to our stroller, but thoroughly searched and metal detected before gaining entrance.
I don't know what I expected inside. My head filled, as it was, with references from classic literature, I guess I half expected ladies in flowery dresses with wide-brimmed hats; possibly being rowed about by men wearing spats and straw hats. But really the part of the Park we saw was more like Coney Island. Lots of amusement park rides and so on; including a stage set up for Russian pop music (God help me the stuff is dreadful!). We soon found a place to buy water and sit in the shade while we planned what to do next.
Sam noticed a "shoot 'em up" carnival game right behind our table and so set about begging and whining and yelling for a "shooter gun." Essentially (a) he loves guns (I know what you're thinking but this is not something he's picked up from me); and (b) he wants whatever gun he gets to look as much like a real gun as possible (no way). So that was unpleasant.
Yet after awhile we left Mom in the shade to recuperate from the walk and went strolling around the park looking for things to do. My fantasy was to find a nice quiet shady place to read while Ingrid and Sam burned up all sorts of calories running around and asking to go on swings and slides and so on. Nothing like that happened. Instead, Sam found something he wanted to do as much as shoot guns: a pony ride.
Both Monica and I remembered how last Summer we'd tried to get Sam to ride a pony at Tamaya resort in New Mexico; and how he'd cried and carried on so much that we felt sorry for the pony even though Sam's but never hit the saddle. But here Sam was all for it.
Ingrid loves to try anything Sam does, so of course she wanted a ride too, only she's too little and they wouldn't allow her to go (they did let her sit for a photo though).
After that we finally relented and I held Sam while he fired four dollars worth of BBs from a replica AK-47 at some tin cans. He truly loved it.
By now it was a bit after 4:00 p.m. and we had to start thinking about how best to get home. Mom frankly admitted there was no way she could make it back on foot, so the only other solution was the Metro. Given all the stairs and long connecting passages I wasn't all that sure the Metro would be any easier on Mom than a straight walk back, but we went anyway.
After a few wrong turns we finally ended up back home around 5:30. Dinner time? We decided to eat out and we tried a Chinese food place near our apartment called "Door to China". The food was good (not great in my view) and very expensive (about $100.00 for the five of us). The highlight of the meal was the jasmine tea we had last: simply amazing.
Sometime not long after Monica and I were married I told her this joke from a Peter Sellers movie called the Magic Christian, in which Sellers's character learns how to do "facial yoga." Two exercises in particular are recommended (1) the silent scream; and (2) the tiny face. Monica really does the best tiny face in the universe, but no one does silent scream better than Ingrid: here's a photo of Ingrid practicing her silent scream at the restaurant.
Finally, we turned the corner for home and made our way up the lift to our 6th floor apartment. It being Independence Day it wasn't long before Mom noticed thousands of multicolored balloons floating into the sky from Red Square; and just as I started this blog came the fireworks (really not much by our standards but still thunderously fun and colorful).
I don't know what we will do tomorrow, since it's a holiday and most everything should be closed. Maybe we'll just hang out and sleep a lot.
And speaking of sleep: good night all.
So I woke and started reading about Soviet military history. I was interested to learn that the reason Lenin moved the capital from St. Petersburg (then Petrograd) back to Moscow was entirely pragmatic: the draconian peace terms of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk (1917) left Petrograd too geographically isolated and vulnerable.
Anyway once everyone else woke up we had to figure out what to do with our Sunday. The problem with getting out of the house late is that the kids will need to sleep within two hours of leaving the house, so then we have to think about taking the big double stroller so they can have a place to sleep when they finally konk out. But the problem with the double stroller is that we really can't take the Metro, since Moscow is dramatically kid-unfriendly (and wheelchair unfriendly) that way.
We decided to walk the whole way to Gorky Park (you remember the Martin Cruz Smith thriller that was made into a movie starring William Hurt, Lee Marvin, and Brian Denehy?). About a forty-five minute walk along the Moscow river. A good workout for Monica and me but a bit of a stretch for Mom.
So we went for it (Mom gamely agreed to try). It was cloudy but warm as we started. The short route through Red Square was completely blocked off due to the need for tighter security in preparation for Independence Day celebrations, so we took the long way around the Kremlin and across the Moscow river (which gave nice views of the Kremlin itself).
After a number of obstacles and weird street crossings we made it to a stable path along the Moscow river. Not so nice as Paris's Seine (a bit dirty and dingy), but still nice in the sound of the water lapping against the stone revetments. The kids fell asleep after about fifteen minutes.
After half an hour the sun came out and about then we came upon a mildly decrepit park called "Artists Park;" filled with neglected but interesting sculptures. Monica was convinced it would be a great place to take the kids (we'd seen swings) and so we paid the 100 rubles to get in.
Decrepit is of course only another word for charming in a different context, and after staying awhile that's what this odd place turned out to be. First we noticed the tree puffy stuff that looks like snow and falls everywhere in the city lay thick about here.
Then we came upon an old cafe/bistro and being hungry decided to try something. We got a shaded table near a row of busts and sat near two other couples with children. The kids woke up within two seconds of one another and we nibbled on bliny with caviar, sour cream, and jam; cold local beers, and roasted salmon and chicken. Wonderful.
Ingrid and Sam ran around and after awhile we left to complete our epic journey on foot to Gorky Park. After a time we came to what looked like an impromptu flea market as stalls filled with crafts lined either side of the walk. But it turned into a more formal art walk.
The art was very interesting: very much a pastiche of cliché styles with subtle differences (some quite good variations of Dutch masters, impressionism, expressionism, cubism, and so on). Then there were the crass and vulgar bits (including everyone's favorite poker-playing, cigar-smoking dogs, and a naked portrait of Drew Barrymore). The only problem for us was that for the first time since we arrived, instead of turning colder and more rainy, the sky cleared and the sun turned hot. We had no water with us and no hats or sunscreen for the kids (I finally remembered to bring my umbrella this time though).
After about another twenty minutes we made it to the line to buy tickets for entry to the Park. The wait was only about fifteen minutes and admission cost 50 roubles each. Security was airport-like: we got waved ahead of some others due to our stroller, but thoroughly searched and metal detected before gaining entrance.
I don't know what I expected inside. My head filled, as it was, with references from classic literature, I guess I half expected ladies in flowery dresses with wide-brimmed hats; possibly being rowed about by men wearing spats and straw hats. But really the part of the Park we saw was more like Coney Island. Lots of amusement park rides and so on; including a stage set up for Russian pop music (God help me the stuff is dreadful!). We soon found a place to buy water and sit in the shade while we planned what to do next.
Sam noticed a "shoot 'em up" carnival game right behind our table and so set about begging and whining and yelling for a "shooter gun." Essentially (a) he loves guns (I know what you're thinking but this is not something he's picked up from me); and (b) he wants whatever gun he gets to look as much like a real gun as possible (no way). So that was unpleasant.
Yet after awhile we left Mom in the shade to recuperate from the walk and went strolling around the park looking for things to do. My fantasy was to find a nice quiet shady place to read while Ingrid and Sam burned up all sorts of calories running around and asking to go on swings and slides and so on. Nothing like that happened. Instead, Sam found something he wanted to do as much as shoot guns: a pony ride.
Both Monica and I remembered how last Summer we'd tried to get Sam to ride a pony at Tamaya resort in New Mexico; and how he'd cried and carried on so much that we felt sorry for the pony even though Sam's but never hit the saddle. But here Sam was all for it.
Ingrid loves to try anything Sam does, so of course she wanted a ride too, only she's too little and they wouldn't allow her to go (they did let her sit for a photo though).
After that we finally relented and I held Sam while he fired four dollars worth of BBs from a replica AK-47 at some tin cans. He truly loved it.
By now it was a bit after 4:00 p.m. and we had to start thinking about how best to get home. Mom frankly admitted there was no way she could make it back on foot, so the only other solution was the Metro. Given all the stairs and long connecting passages I wasn't all that sure the Metro would be any easier on Mom than a straight walk back, but we went anyway.
After a few wrong turns we finally ended up back home around 5:30. Dinner time? We decided to eat out and we tried a Chinese food place near our apartment called "Door to China". The food was good (not great in my view) and very expensive (about $100.00 for the five of us). The highlight of the meal was the jasmine tea we had last: simply amazing.
Sometime not long after Monica and I were married I told her this joke from a Peter Sellers movie called the Magic Christian, in which Sellers's character learns how to do "facial yoga." Two exercises in particular are recommended (1) the silent scream; and (2) the tiny face. Monica really does the best tiny face in the universe, but no one does silent scream better than Ingrid: here's a photo of Ingrid practicing her silent scream at the restaurant.
Finally, we turned the corner for home and made our way up the lift to our 6th floor apartment. It being Independence Day it wasn't long before Mom noticed thousands of multicolored balloons floating into the sky from Red Square; and just as I started this blog came the fireworks (really not much by our standards but still thunderously fun and colorful).
I don't know what we will do tomorrow, since it's a holiday and most everything should be closed. Maybe we'll just hang out and sleep a lot.
And speaking of sleep: good night all.
Posted: Sun - June 12, 2005 at 11:29 PM
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Published On: Jun 13, 2005 11:01 PM
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Published On: Jun 13, 2005 11:01 PM