It was a last minute flight change, one that didn’t entirely make sense to me, but instead of flying from LA to Bulgaria via London or Paris, I’ve transited through Moscow. Its lovely Sheremetyvo Airport I know so well from my frequent ins and outs through it over last winter and the winter before. The weather hasn’t changed here. Still crappy. Russian friendliness is unchanged. Still absent. And the smokers…OMG. If you’re reading this in America, I promise you, you haven’t been among smoke like this since your last trip to the 1980s. They have these “smoking areas” about every ten feet. Yes it’s a designated smoking zone, but no one has taught the smoke not to waft. One must run a certain gauntlet. They should put the smokers behind glass. Where’s a damn smokequarium when you need one?
Anyway, since I’m in Moscow, I thought I’d post my favorite pink pig picture, from my very first trip here in 2007.
I’m awfully glad to be just passing through this place. I have no real desire to work here again. Apart from its vast and overwhelming Russianness, I just a sucker for the unknown. That’s why I’m so excited to be going to Bulgaria. I mean, the place could suck, but I won’t know until I get there, and until I get there it’s like buried treasure in my mind. I mean, I know NOTHING about the place. There were some wars and crusades and such. The language looks much like Russian. The weather seems to be much like Moscow (oh boy). Apart from that… “I couldn’t find Bulgaria on a map of Bulgaria.” So I’m flying blind, which is just how I like to fly.
Speaking of flying, they seem to be calling my flight (though they’re calling it in Russian, so how do I know for sure?) Time to go run the gauntlet of the smoke.
More later, -jv