Back in 2007, when I first started this blog, I wrote a series of posts to my mother; electronic postcards based on a trip to Russia, that would hopefully get home much quicker than the real things, they were called Emails to the Big Chief. They went out in the quiet period immediately after Christmas and were seen by very few people. Now, nearly nine years later, I thought they would bear repeating. In part 1, I talked about driving from Moscow to Kostroma, in part 2, the lack of preparations for my visit and in part 3, about the chalet by the lake. Now read on…
Day 4: I’m A Celebrity: Get Me Out Of Here!
You will be delighted to hear that it’s day 4 and still no vodka. Mind you, Boris arrives tomorrow, so it may not last.
It’s a bit like an Australian survival programme here at mealtimes. The food’s ordered the day before and delivered from the municipal facility.
‘Hey Elizabeth,’ said Sasha as she rummaged in the box today ‘what do you fancy for lunch? We’ve got soup, fish, salad and bread. Wow, we’ve also got chocolates. I guess those are for you, the honoured guest.’ After which, the girls preserved my figure by eating most of the box themselves.
When my class arrived on Monday, I realised many of the faces were familiar from 1994. A little older, a few more inches around some of the waistlines, but still smartly dressed with gold teeth glistening and hair bleached and permed. I remember the looks of panic and incomprehension when we first talked to them about manufacturing drugs. Now, they are more confident and keen to learn. Today we had the ‘design a factory’ exercise – a mountain of virtual money to spend. There was much argument and laughter from the syndicates as they each argued that their design was best. If only building a real factory was so easy.
My experiences in Russia led me to write my debut novel, Gorgito’s Ice Rink, a tale of love, loss and broken promises which was runner up in the 2015 Self-Published Book of the Year Awards. If you would like to read it, you can find links by clicking here.
