RyazanMapJune 12, 2007 Somehow the faceless holiday known as Russia Day manages to remind you of its existence every single time. This year I decided to go somewhere, anywhere, not too far from Moscow on the Sunday evening. I already had my sights set on Tver. However, when it came to finding a hotel, it turned out that either the description alone was enough to scare you off, or they were completely booked out. Even in a place called Emmaus (note the quirky toponyms in the Tver region). So I had to go to Ryazan, where they did have rooms available. We found a hotel in Ryazan using a GPRS mobile phone. It turned out to be a breeding ground for guys from the Caucasus with hookers, with oil paintings of waterfalls on the walls and interiors predominantly in shades of blue. The hotel is located on the top floor of a shopping centre, which is awful enough as it is. However, by this point it was three a.m., so we didn’t feel like hunting around for alternatives. The tap serves up two kinds of water — cold water the colour of beet sugar and hot water the colour of cane sugar. By mixing the two until the water runs light yellow you can obtain a result that’s both the right temperature and aesthetically pleasing. Come morning — let’s get the hell away from this shopping centre. We bolt to the town. You cannot but like Ryazan.  The houses are mostly two storeys high. In parts the architectural details are just like in Italy.  It’s difficult to ascribe some of the elements on the facades to a specific era.  There are lots of places here that haven’t changed one bit in the last hundred years. The walls, the houses, the stairwells, the grass, and the sky — they were exactly as they are today. Here’s a view of the Ryazan kremlin:  There’s something special in the air in this place. I remembered when I last had this feeling — it was in Kasimov. It’s the feeling you get in a real XIX century provincial Russian town. Then I recalled that Kasimov is in fact in the Ryazan region —everything fell into place.  The local kremlin is a delight. There’s an enormous stack of wood in the middle of it. Right next to it there are old ladies fetching water from the pump. The locals’ attitude to antiquity is the same as the Egyptians’ — they don’t understand what the big draw is for visitors, because all of this has always been here and has never really stood out for any reason. The sign on the stables, complete with double-headed eagle, is a must: 
Stables and carriage shed Let’s exit the kremlin and take a stroll down the main street. After all, the Revolution did take place here.  In January of 1930 Nadezhda Konstantinovna Krupskaya, an eminent Bolshevik party member, closest friend and associate of V. I. Lenin, as well as an outstanding educator of the people, visited this school and chatted with teachers in the city of Ryazan There’s another plaque on this building, on the side opposite to the one with the entrance:  Russian author and Nobel laureate Aleksander Isayevich Solzhenitsyn taught in this building 1957-1962 The porch of this building is a dream come true for me — it’s got steps made of actual metal. This was standard before the revolution, and it’s perfectly possible that they will never learn to make them the same way again. It’s much easier to plonk down two concrete lozenges — hey presto, there’s your entrance.  By contrast, these cast-iron steps can still be seen all over Ryazan. And that’s where they’ll remain for eternity, if nobody digs them up that is.  Let’s take a look at the roads.  An explanation about what the traffic signs mean for the people who paid someone off to get their driver’s licence. 
Warning! They hang up signs like showerheads, almost like in Copenhagen.  The pedestrian traffic light signal provides a vivid demo of what will happen if you ignore the ban.  Some intersections have already been kitted out with trendy animated pedestrians, like in St Petersburg.  Turning now to the signs. 
Ladies’ man Take a look at this establishment.  Leonardo Instead of having idiotic roadside signs, which are a blight on even the ugliest of cities, in Ryazan they’ve civilized the practice of pasting up advertising flyers. As you can see, there are ads for everything and anything — from stockings to the mobile network operator MTS.  A monument by the fire station — an alternative “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” film poster. At the top — half of one frightened fireman punching a bell, on the bottom part of the guillotine — historic transport.  Rubbish bin (atypical specimen of the local breed).  Pleasant streets.  Hairdresser Half of the town is military barracks. This is why even the lampposts have wings like missiles.  By sheer accident, my legs carried me to Pochtovaya Street, the local version of the Arbat. There’s a café here called “The Maghreb Star”, which completely debunked all of my misconceptions about Ryazan once and for all. I had assumed that local cuisine would be limited to something like this: 
KVA[S] But I ended up in a place where they not only serve superlative coffee, but where you can also have a very nice meal. It was easy enough to uncover the salad’s secret — you get decent vegetables here, that’s all. You chow down on a radish and, holy shit, it’s tasty. The secret to the pasta — it’s all down to the boiling water. But how is it that they manage to brew good coffee in the centre of Ryazan — mind-boggling. It’s time to head back. 
Moscow A bored voice over the megaphone is inviting us to go on an exciting river excursion aboard the “PTs-81” motorboat (I am not making this stuff up). Unsealed paths scatter in all directions. Fighter planes fly overhead in a V formation. There you have it, another day in Russia! It’s a real shame about all this silly Russia Day business — totally inopportune.  * * * On our way back I saw an information sign with experimental spelling: 
Warning! Experemental road surface markings The surface markings were experimental in that 3-D paint was applied to the road in front of the pedestrian crossing, causing vehicles to resonate slightly as they drove over it (let’s call them singsong surface markings). I hasten to add that the experiment was unsuccessful — the warning stripes are too close to the pedestrian crossing. It might work if you were to drive at 60km/h, but you actually do have to account for reality. Driving across the bundle of five stripes feels like “thunk”. This is what it’s like: thunk, tha-thunk, tha-tha-thunk, wham! The wham is the pedestrian you’ve just run over.  Closer to Moscow we came across the most unhinged ad of the year — a title it will undoubtedly retain until next year. 
MOESK Power Company Electricity Distribution Line Staff Competition |
