Moscow may not be as pretty as Saint Petersburg, but it holds its own. Architecture styles spanning several centuries co-exist, with soaring glass buildings next to 1800s-style villas near thick-walled four-hundred-year-old structures beside onion-domed churches. Theatres are everywhere; posters of actors playing their roles are a common sight. The city is well kept up and easy to navigate with long, wide avenues and an elaborate (and beautiful) subway system.

However, despite all this, the one word I would use to describe Moscow is "imposing." The city is serious about itself and Soviet influence is still much present, despite the influx of the new. Everything politically and geographically revolves around the Kremlin. Possibly, my experience being there during so many events overseen by security colored my impression, but there is nothing to brush off about Moscow.

Since our train arrived at 5:10am (the carriage attendants rapping on the compartment doors a full hour before arrival), we were tired as our amusingly grumpy old driver took us to our hotel. We almost missed him, standing at the edge of the platform holding a sign with our names on it. (We had walked practically to the station exit before turning around and checking the platform again.) To our delight, our room was available, so we made use of the time before our scheduled 10am tour to sneak in a few hours more of sleep. The 9th floor room was clean and had a nice view, though not quite panoramic.

Our guide met us on time and was kind enough to stop for breakfast on the way. She chose a nearby place, saying it was reasonably priced. We were fully inside before we realized we were in a McCafe. I had never seen one. It was like a mini Starbucks but... McDonalds. And quite popular. I had a ham and cheese croissant and a mocha, but no orange juice was available.

Our librarian-like guide was great, telling us passionately about details we might not have heard from your average guide. Stories about the artists behind our local subway station and construction details about a 1600s-era building hidden in a courtyard that appeared sunken, but really, the ground level had risen around it.

On several occasions, she would end a sentence, "and that's just awful," like when talking about the Peter the Great statue (which I mistook for a pirate ship in the distance) that only still exists "because it's too expensive to remove." She also waxed eloquent on her dislike of the newlywed lock trees and had evidence to back it up - old trees full of rusted locks further back, looking like something out of a Tim Burton movie.

So there is a tradition, I do not know how old, in European Russia, to put a padlock on a bridge (or special tree) near a canal once you've wed. After locking the romantic pink, red, or white padlock, you throw the key into the water. I admit it is kind of cute and we even caught one newlywed couple at it.

Our guide in Saint Petersburg, who is engaged, declared that she had no intention of doing this. She said that the city had to cut the locks every August because there were too many. (They have yet to remove the rusted out 'trees' on this Moscow bridge.)

The first of many thwarted attempts to get near Red Square followed. As it happened, today was Putin's inauguration. Roads were closed. Barriers were up. Policemen were everywhere. You could not get anywhere near the Kremlin.

Instead, we visited a pretty church (going in without a headscarf, our guide is so rebellious) and a palatial supermarket. When I say "palatial", I do not mean it was big. I mean it was a freaking palace! See below. Our Most Expensive Lunch followed at a pizzeria next to the Chekhov statue at the top. Delicious pizza, phenomenal salad, drinks and a dessert at a lovely outdoor table with an umbrella coming in at $35 a person. Apparently the price did not deter the guy across from us wearing a Megadeth T-shirt.

To make up for our overpriced lunch, we opted for some Russian fast food, blini (crepe) style for dinner. This is pronounced "teremak" and kind of tasted it, too. I was unimpressed, but it was cheap(er), fast, and close to our hotel.

We figured we could go to Red Square the next day because it was the day after Putin's inauguration but before Victory Day. Right? Wrong! Victory day preparations were in full swing. So we wandered around nearby "Kitay-Gorod" instead. Kitay-Gorod literally means Chinatown in Russian, but it wasn't. (In fact, it was the only place we saw a synagogue.) We saw tons of people in military uniform, at least a half dozen variations, and saw armored cars. I'm assuming this is for Victory Day because if not, yikes. We eventually ended up inside the ubiquitous "Shokoladnitsa" coffee shop chain for a rest. There, we learned the existence of two new berries! I had a "bilberry" smoothie, which we both agreed was the best drink of the trip. (Bilberries are kind of like cranberries.) And Rachel had a tart "sea-buckthorn berry" drink which was not as cool as the name.

The previous night, I had drawn out a rough map (from the internet) to find a modern art museum. Unfortunately, once we exited the relevant station (Mayakovskaya), we could not tell what direction we were facing due to overcast and drizzly conditions. We second-guessed ourselves several times, finally walking into (another) Shokoladnitsa to get out of the rain and consult the map. (We had not brought our internet-ready devices.) We stood near the entrance, trying to sort it out when a man with perfect English (and two small children in tow) offered to help. He had not heard of the museum but, amazingly, was able to decipher a half-written park name on my map and point us in the right direction. He also told us we should have a cup of coffee here, so we sat down. Rachel wanted hot chocolate. The waitress said, "You want to drink chocolate?" Assuming this was just a strange translation, we nodded. She returned with a cup of melted chocolate. No joke. To wash it down, the waitress thoughtfully provided a glass of cold water as well. It actually was tasty, being melted chocolate and all, but not exactly what we had in mind.

We found the museum! And discovered that a bunch of museums were free on Victory Day (tomorrow) so we decided to come back then. We walked through the rain back to the main thoroughfare and spotted the fancy-looking Intercontinental Hotel where we finally got ourselves a tourist map. (Our guide didn't provide one and all I had was my Trans-Siberian Handbook maps which I realized too late are just not as good as Lonely Planet's). At the fancy hotel, a nice English-speaking lady showed us the parade route and told us which museums were free. I wonder if it mattered that we were totally not guests at that hotel.

We returned to the museum our guide had overwhelmingly recommended. Pavel Tretyakov, its founder, was a philanthropist who insisted that his extensive collection be seen by the common public (not just the noble class) and for free. Reminded me of Smithsonian. Except... it isn't free anymore! Twelve stinking bucks. Great museum, though. We spent two hours there as well, same as The Hermitage, but I suspect we saw twice as many works because they are stacked two-high here. Lots of really interesting works by Russian artists.

We made a half-hearted attempt to see the parade, but mostly we saw closed streets, guards every twenty feet, crowds waiting, and even helicopters in the distance, but no people marching. Rain delay? A lot of people were out in about, kids on parent's shoulders wearing patriotic olive drab hats, waving flags, and holding red carnations.

Obviously Red Square (the parade either started or ended there) and the Kremlin were closed once again, so we wandered around, had some coffee (coffee shop was open) and checked out one of the museums instead.

We walked back to Tverskaya which was now open to people (the parade must have passed) but closed to vehicles. Red Square was still blocked off at the end of the street. A loudspeaker was blasting patriotic music and narrating in Russian. We were starting to get hungry. I saw a Moo-Moo on the corner to a side-street, just behind the car barrier. I had been wanting to try one since our guide books mention that they had authentic and reasonably priced food. At first the (sort of friendly) guards didn't want to let us through the barrier for some reason, even though we could see people going in and out of the restaurant about five paces away. We pointed to it in confusion and eventually he let us past the barrier.

We had a nice lunch at the cafeteria-style Moo-Moo (it looks like MY-MY in Cyrillic, but the Y is pronounced "oo") where, instead of coke, they gave Rachel a giant tankard of kvass. Yuck. But they did (reluctantly) break the 5000-ruble bill the ATM machine had the audacity to give her.

Then. We should have expected. The guards did not let us back through. Why? There was no reason we could think of. We had already been on the other side. Both streets were open to the public. But they blocked our passage. As did the guards on the next street down, and the next, and the next. The underground passage was blocked as well. No matter what, we could not get back to where we had just been! I was trying to remember how we (and everyone else) had gotten on that street in the first place.

We gave up and walked in the opposite direction. Consulting our map, it turned out that we were near one of the most famous streets in Moscow: Arbat Street. The brick pedestrian-only avenue conveniently started and ended at a metro station, so no long walk back on tired feet. So we went! It's like Pearl Street in Boulder! Our book said to be careful of pickpockets, but huh? Maybe if there were ten times as many people? Or at night? The street was lively, full of restaurants (lots of western chains) and street musicians. I loved it!

We watched one group of 11 various-aged children singing traditional Russian songs with acoustic guitars. Actually, I only assume they were traditional because some of the audience members were singing and clapping along. Later, we listened to three young women, two violinists and a cellist, playing renditions of "Hit the Road, Jack" and the Tango. Very talented.

So we took the metro several stops south, across the river, and we walked leisurely up a pleasant wooded naturesque path around to the top of the hill. We followed the sign that said in English "Lookout Point," where Moscow State University apparently offers a fine view, and bam! Barrier! Guards blocking the way. Huh? We are nowhere near the Kremlin. Rachel had a great theory: they were discouraging student protests.

So no panoramic view. Sigh. At least we saw this view over the highway, so it wasn't a totally wasted trip.

We decided to take the shortcut down out of curiosity. And this is probably my favorite memory of Moscow right here...

Earlier, after we exited the subway, we walked along a sidewalk under the highway to the base of the hill. There is a meandering paved path along the hill through the trees that leads you gently upward and around to the University at the top. The walk is pleasant; a little nature in the big city.

Or... you can ignore the path completely and climb straight up the hill from under the highway underpass to get directly to the top. (We saw some people doing this climb on our way up, but thought they were just teenagers playing around.)

For some reason, from the top, it seemed a legitimate way down. Up until the first set of "stairs". It may not look steep from the photo, but it was! I used my hand to balance myself as I made my way down, one muddy wooden slat at a time, cars speeding by at 60mph at the bottom. Then I noticed that a line was gradually forming at the bottom. Regular people. Parents, kids, older folk, not just crazy teenagers (and people like us), all taking the shortcut from the subway station to the top of the hill.

As I reached the bottom of the hill, just a foot or two from the screaming highway, I realized that the next section was even more treacherous: beside the highway and dropping below it, a stretch of concrete wall lay, less than a foot wide at the top, with a drop on one side and a slippery, muddy, steep hill on the other. And people were lined up on it! A woman in her fifties with her teenage daughter, both in skirts and high heels, and men in their twenties lending a chivalrous balancing hand. Just regular people, getting off the subway. There was not really enough room for both people coming up and people going down to pass each other, but that did not stop everyone from trying. I was balanced sturdily on the side of the muddy hill, keeping my shoes clean a lost cause, praying I wouldn't slip and waiting for a break in the line of people standing precariously on the concrete wall.

I took the hand of a brave guy balanced above me and stepped down off the wall on the other side. Amazingly, I made it to the bottom of the hill and down the rocky slope beneath the underpass without falling on my butt. All in all, I'm pretty sure the whole process took longer than the original meandering walk up did. And my sneakers were caked in mud. The guards at the bottom did not seem to care whatsoever, as long as you didn't cross the barrier (there was a barrier up to the right set of paths that must lead up to the university. I had noticed it, but not realized its purpose until we reached the top.)

After a "meat pancake lasagna" dinner at Shokoladnitsa, where we nearly left without paying since we had been sitting there on the internet so long (forgetting that they won't bring us the bill until we ask for it) we went to an overpriced supermarket to get some snacks for our 2-day train journey the next day. Then we got back on the subway and checked out the Circle Line.

The Moscow subway system is extensive and one of the busiest in the world, so it is something of a surprise how beautiful many of its stations are. The best of the best are along the Circle Line but our own Green Line wasn't bad either. (I've heard that, in Saint Petersburg, the Red Line is where you will find some similarly gorgeous stations, but we were only on the Blue and Green lines there.) The detail is amazing, more so because it was built knowing it would be passed quickly by in the background.

Despite that they have been around for decades, subways still impress the heck out of me. Shooting through the ground in tunnels deep under the city, popping up in convenient places around town. So futuristic!

Four hours before our train was due to depart for eastern Russia, we were finally able to get into Red Square! The idea that I would be in Moscow and not see it had been nagging in the back of my head the whole time we were here. But, whew, all is well. No rain. No scaffolding. No barriers! The only bummer (besides big trucks removing Victory Day bleachers and banners everywhere) was that the Kremlin was still closed to tourists.

Interesting fact: the name Red Square has nothing to with Communism Red or the red bricks everywhere. The name in Russian (Krasnaya Ploshchad) can mean "Red" or "Beautiful" Square.

And finally, the famous church with the colorful onion domes! The Thing To See in Moscow. St Basil's Cathedral!

Since the Kremlin was closed, I decided to check out in the interior of St. Basil's. It was packed. I couldn't tell whether these were normal crowds or the-square-has-been-blocked-off-for-three-days crowds or, if these were the-Kremlin-is-still-freaking-closed crowds (which I was a part of). Luckily, as it is no longer a working church, no headscarves were required.

You know, 1561 is a long time ago. Way, way back. Before Shakespeare, even. That's how old this church is. And you can really Feel the Old, unlike the similarly-styled church in Saint Petersburg which benefitted from almost 300 years of architectural advancements. (Also, these surfaces were painted, not mosaics like at Spilled Blood.) The walls are thick concrete, arched tightly as you pass from cramped interior room to another with little natural light.

I discovered as I handed my ticket to the woman at the door, that there are two stories. (Because she said in accented English "two floors" as I walked in.) Good information. Not sure I would have been looking for the stairs otherwise as they were not particularly obvious. But they were PACKED.

We met back at the hotel lobby, retrieved our luggage from the luggage room (yay for luggage rooms) and waited for our driver. Rachel went out to grab some blini to go. An old man took a seat in the lobby. At one point, he was staring at me. I swear he stared for a good five minutes. I stared at him back for some time, but then got bored with it. When Rachel returned, she wondered if he was the driver. I looked at him again and saw, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, a sign with our names on it! Sheesh. It was the same grumpy driver that has picked us up when we arrived. I guess he preferred to sit there and stare than to identify himself to me in any way. He was either quite early or a little late, depending on which time we were supposed to follow, the one the hotel gave us or the one on our itinerary. The only way we ever got him to speak at all was if we tipped him. (Then he gave a surprised "spaceeba.") From what I read, you don't generally tip taxi drivers here, but we were trying to tip everyone who gave us individual help.

The station was not a far drive nor particularly confusing, but he walked us in and made sure we knew where our train platform was. Rachel had no luck trying to find a small bag to purchase in the small station shops (selling snacks and electronics), since hers was getting full. I found some Baskin Robbins (near where I took the photo actually), though less than a dozen flavors were available. I was hoping it would be Russian ice cream, which I heard was delicious, but it did the job. Then we boarded our fancy train to Yekaterinburg! (I describe this in more detail on the On The Train page.)