The week before I came out to Russia, we had worked on a branch in Kiev as a pilot site.  Overnight there had been a power cut in Kiev and now the network is down, so a lot of today is spent n dozens of phone calls and emails trying to establish exactly where the fault lies.  It is a perfect example of putting troubleshooting methodologies into practice and we eventually isolate the fault, call in the local ISP and the networking company to resolve the problems and all is back tickety-boo again.  What this did raise is just how important the horrible job of documentation is, and that no matter how much information you record, it’s never enough.  In a moment of weakness or stupidity, I agree to revisit all the documentation I have already completed for the branches and fill in the additional information.  What joy!

In between it all, I manage to take in a Russian sauna experience, and what an experience.  I have been well educated in the whole sauna philosophy by aiFo, Tafka and the Estonian and Finnish mates I’ve made over the years, and even had the dubious “pleasure” of being subjected to an unforgettable Finnish and Russian sauna saga last summer while I was in Estonia.  It mainly consisted of drinking lots of beer and chilli vodka straight from the freezer, eating half a pig in various guises as the hosts were pig farmers, and being beaten to a pulp with an assortment of flora from the forests including birch twigs, juniper branches and stinging nettles by a bull of a man, stark naked with a massive moustache who spoke no English but we shared about 6 words of German, then jumping into a lake.  It was great actually, I’d do it again at the drop of a hat.

Sadly this was not a “proper” Russian sauna where huge stones are heated for hours beforehand, the heat is unbearable and you come out black, but more the Swedish / Finnish style that you get in health clubs back home.  The sauna, however, is only a part of the package here, and for around £20 for an hour I have an entire suite to myself complete with the sauna, a small swimming pool, toilet and shower.  There’s more …  There is also a lounge area with chairs and settees, a TV and a sound system with menus for the bar to order in food and drinks.  Looking around the walls, the posters are all classic Soviet stuff along with a montage of Russian presidents through the years.  There is even a lectern in the corner with the hammer and sickle on it and it’s only then that I notice a lap dancing pole to boot.  In a room off the main one there is even a double bed, and when I ask for a towel, they also supply me with sheets! I crack up laughing at the thought of the kinds of private parties that must go on in here,  I feel I’m letting the side down a bit by just spending some “me” time all alone, swimming, going in the sauna, showering and generally just recharging my batteries. I enjoyed my bit self and came out feeling great. 

The sun is shining, even though it is still cool so I walk into town, stopping on the way to go into a well dodgy electronics market to buy an Ethernet switch as I’d used mine for the office installation and you never know when they come in handy.  The place was crawling with short, darker skinned blokes, all dressed head to toe in black, gobbing all over the place and hassling the passers-by to flog them their mobile phones.  I’ve developed a method of walking through areas like this over the years to come out unscathed and put it into action, and sure enough before long I’m out and into town.  I wander up and  down the streets, buying odds and sods from the street selling women, daft things like shoe cleaning pads as my shoes are still getting wrecked with all the dust on the streets.

I’m still feeling fit and fine from the sauna, and as it’s still sunny, but getting colder by the minute, I walk briskly back to dodgy town across the river bridge.  By the bus station where we’d caught the taxi yesterday I even decide that my hair has passed the point of no return and bravely wander into a hairdressers and manage to communicate enough to get a half decent tidy up.

I spend the evening writing the postcards I’d promised to send when I made it to Siberia and the hotel promise me they’ll post them for me so if you didn’t get one, my excuse is to blame the hotel (either that or you weren’t on the list, but never mind, eh?)