Visa Run Complete.

   

     Aeroflot has great service and connections in Russia and outside. However, I say this with one caveat. If you're looking to book one class and then gate upgrade, if available, don't. Aeroflot seems to not get this procedure done all over the world. I booked my flight to London in their Presidents class as I had a very short connection in Moscow and knew I might run into long lines due to the time of day. I had loads of time returning so I left that as a coach ticket figuring I'd gate upgrade the redeye flight out of London and if I could the flight back to Krasnodar if it wasn't too expensive. Anyone that travels a great deal knows these gate upgrades are usually very inexpensive compared to booking ahead of time and rarely available with North American carriers practice of overbooking flights.

Now I don't know if it was just the two agents I dealt with or if as I suspect Aeroflot isn't really onboard with this practice. When I checked in at London, I was told I'd have to go to the ticket desk to change my flight. So off I went and talked to an agent. She was very nice, spoke English very well and told me this upgrade would be around 450 pounds! To have originally booked this flight in Presidents class was cheaper than this upgrade cost. So I left my ticket as it was and checked the front of the plane during the flight. It was a two and two three and three configuration. There were three empty seats upfront.

Just for the sake of research I looked into doing the same from Moscow to Krasnodar and was given one number that was way too expensive for a two hour flight, over 500 USD, and while I was working out the exchange she said she had made a mistake and gave me another number higher than the original price for upgrading from London!! After I saw the planes I was sure glad I had booked in coach, as the last plane was four rows of two and two and then the back being three and three. However, it was a newer plane with very comfortable pitch seats so the three and three seating was fine.

 As an international traveler, I have done gate upgrades a great deal. They work for the airline and me as the airline gets to now put another passenger onto the plane and show the first customer what the added space and service is like upfront. The idea is, of course, that the customer chooses to book in that class for subsequent flights with them.  Often the meal selection is limited and it is harder to do with two people but I have found for solo travel asking for a gate upgrade is always a good idea. I have recommended this to travel clients in the past but best not to do it on Aeroflot.

If I hadn't just spent three months in Russia, I might have thought they were trying to cheat me. It certainly would appear that way to an outside observer. How can the last two-hour leg of a six-hour flight be more expensive, by leagues, than the whole flight? But having lived here for a while I know this isn't the case and has something to do with Aeroflot's pricing structure.

So that's the bad about Aeroflot and hopefully they change it because if they do they will be a world contender for air service. I say this having traveled quite a bit on budget and not so budget carriers. Some of which I will never use regardless at price. One carrier that flys between Bellingham and Las Vegas comes to mind. I have seen fifty dollar round trip prices yet I will fly Alaska Air instead at triple the cost each way.  Service and my piece of mind are worth it.

     Aeroflot's service in the sky is awesome in either class. The President's class full flat beds on my flight to London where comfortable and the staff were super attentive. I saw the attendant serving my section check a couple of times with the other attendant to figure out how to say something correctly in English. Even in coach the effort was obvious. Compare that to a Canadian carrier flying within Quebec! Food from North America, Europe, and within the Russian Federation was tasty, fresh and plentiful. It also didn't come with an additional charge and even a glass of wine was complimentary even in the back of the bus!

I also noticed that kids are still invited up to the flight deck, on flights within Russia, to have a quick look around! I remember doing this as a child and it being a highlight of a trip to Disney Land. A great practice that ended elsewhere in the world due to fears of terrorists and hijacking.  Now the sixty-kilogram flight attendant stands in the aisle, supposedly to thwart access whenever the flight deck door is opened. Really? All it does is remind people they live in fear.  A real terrorist would be through her and into that deck before she stopped bleeding out on the lighted "this way out" aisle.

      So I soon found myself in London and was hit by the multicultural of it. Living within Russia and in the resort city frequented, predominantly, by Russians being in London was a culture shock. It was great to speak English, but it felt odd too. I found myself quickly adapting and very aware I was doing so.

Being the high season in London, I stayed at a "budget" hotel. It was still expensive by North American standards, but it was perfectly located and had awesome service. The rooms are small, but the hotel itself is a perfect business class design. It was called the Rockwell and it is close to Earls Court. I had a bunch of paperwork and various things to do and the desk staff was awesome at helping out.

I had booked six nights, in advance, as I was unsure exactly how many days it would take to get all these hoops taken care of. The stars aligned and gave me a few days to do some sightseeing. I have been to London before. I went to the London Book Fair when I released Grey Redemption as it was being featured. However on that trip I was only in the country for forty-nine hours and had little time to do anything. Prior to that trip, I had done some tourist stuff in-between flights to Africa.

This time I had loads of time and while being budget conscious I did get to see some very cool parts of London. I got to Gordon Ramsey's restaurant at the Savoy and spent a few hours at the Tate. I also took advantage of the open deck tour buses. The ones with real commentators as the recorded versions are a sad replacement. It allowed me to relax and get a good bit of research done while being entertained at the same time. I got a London Pass and travel card and I am certain this saved me money on my tube travel alone, not to mention the convenience of it.

I took advantage of a walking tour that was advertised as a Ghost Tour. It was more correctly a pub tour with asides about ghosts. It was part of my Big Bus ticket and was hosted by a short and wholly entertaining man. Rich in history, details, and jocularity it was a great way to spend a couple of hours. It wasn't a hard walk and we had a varied group from the US, Europe, Australia, and me. It was by far one of the most informative tours I have ever taken and well worth your time if you are in London
 
I also had the pleasure of meeting a long time internet buddy Elliot Taylor, or Riz. He has just finished writing a book called Up The Hammers. It is Military Non-Fiction and written in a style that is pleasing and interesting. So much of this type of writing is dry and reads like the textbooks that made you hate history. This is not the case with Elliot's book. He gave me a copy while we shared a long-promised cigar and some beers in the Garden of the hotel until they turned off the lights. Then we moved to a local pub and continued till they closed as well. This was not too late as London has rather old fashion drinking laws. It was a great time and awesome visit with someone I knew to be intelligent and was glad to discover a great guy as well. Get this book, it is available in soft copy, has great pictures and really sheds light on the realities of WW1 trench warfare from a uniquely British perspective.

I did a great deal of traveling on the tube while I was in London and even more walking and six days was more than enough. I was tired and relieved that my one-year multiple entry and exit visa was approved by the Russian Consulate.  This gives me a great deal more freedom to come and go from Russia as I please. Regular visas have many more restrictions.

     My return journey to the Russian Federation began in the evening with a trip to Heathrow four. The previously mentioned Aeroflot issues aside it went without a hitch. One thing for smokers to note Heathrow four is the only terminal that has a smoking area past the security checkpoint. It is out by gate three, downstairs and was a nice surprise as this was my last cigarette. I had decided and promised Inga I would stop smoking when I returned to Anapa. My journey ended at about the same time I left for the airport the next day. Being in coach, I was unable to really sleep; however I think I passed out a couple of times on the flight to Krasnodar and then again on the three-hour bus ride home with Inga

This blog is being written a week or so after I returned and so far so good on the no smoking promise and my back is just starting to feel normal after the journey. Sitting for too long is proving to be more of a challenge with the missing discs in L2 and L3 than it was when I was younger. Oh well, at least I know I am not wasting money paying to sit upfront! LOL!

London VISA run part one

Well, Monday morning has once again come to Anapa and finds me back in the Russian Federation with a new one-year multiple entry/exit visa. Don’t ask how I was able to secure such a rare visa as I will just have to use the Russian saying; “I know a guy.” Life here is like this to some degree. Friends help friends around the hoops and pitfalls that exist within the system. It is difficult for foreigners to grasp and harder still to participate. Russians warm slowly to new friends and I understand why. The expectation associated with the word friend has an entirely different meaning here. I am lucky enough to understand that from my home perspective as I have those expectations from my Canadian friends, and them from me, but I understand this is the exception rather than the rule at home. Here it is the rule.

So last week found me explaining to my Mom how things were and that I would be staying a little longer than my initial three months. Securing this type of visa could only be done in Europe. This type of visa allows me to fly home and back without the added headache of renewing and canceling existing visas as you can only have one visa active at any time. It also allows for free movement that is not allowed if I were to start a temporary resident process. So with the situation explained and the course decided on plans were set into action.

Flights out of Anapa during the height of the tourist season are as would be expected expensive. So Inga’s sister suggested flying out of Krasnodar. Krasnodar is the third largest Russian city and about three hours by bus away from the resort city of Anapa.  Promised easy connections had me feeling a little uncertain and having lived in Russia for three months I decided on leaving a day early and taking the opportunity to visit this Cossack city.

            We arrived at the Anapa city bus station, tickets in hand, an hour before our bus was scheduled to depart and it was obvious to me from the throngs of people that something was slightly amiss. Inga tried to figure out what was going on and despite speaking Russian had very little initial success. We were told that our bus was delayed till 1130, an hour and a half delay. About forty minutes later an announcement was made that the bus had broken down and passengers holding tickets had to get new tickets for a later bus. Inga went off with the mass of other passengers and got in line for new tickets. She returned with two tickets, costing slightly more, for a three pm departure. Welcome to Russia I thought. They cancel a trip, then an hour later tell people to get new tickets and after lining up for forty minutes charge you more money. If Russia is ever to attract international travelers they really have to get better at these types of things. Moreover, if the city of Anapa wants to keep the internal visitors that come to the Black Sea resort they have to address this as well. Many people we had been waiting with were now going to miss flights, trains, and bus connections. This also makes the "taxis" offering trips more tempting and these money focused drivers tend to push it, knowing they can make two trips loaded with non discounted fares.   Pushing it on the road from Anapa to Krasnodar is a very dangerous proposition. But people forced with cheap tickets that could not be changed took the risk. We waited, and Inga gave her place in line to a couple so they could arrive in time for the train. We could wait as I had secured us reservations at a nice hotel in Krasnodar for the evening.

sitting with missed flights and trains and other connections with the three to five-hour delay. This situation also added to the aggressive “taxi” trade with offers to get you there increasing in price and danger. A mini bus driver could now make two trips at high fares if he pushed it!

We arrived in Krasnodar and I forced us to take an expensive taxi to the hotel, having had my fill of a more frugal Russian style of transportation. The Hilton was like any other Hilton in the world, something I didn’t like or appreciate until this trip. I walked up to the front desk and spoke English and expected to be understood. I was and the desk staff was as organized and customer focused as any other Hilton in the world. It was refreshing and after a day of slow taxis, missed buses and hours of waiting. We checked in, handing our passports in to be registered, a custom still followed in places and retired to our room. It was clean and like any other Hilton in the world. While before this banal cookie cutter styling, and American focused décor would have irked me. This time it was a caress and I found myself feeling oddly guilty at needing this type of pampering. I took a long shower in the rainfall style separated glass shower and relaxed.

            Changed and freshly scrubbed we did what we usually liked to do and went for a walk. It was the weekend and the local main street turns into a “walking street” after the evening rush. Bikers, skaters, and walkers share the wide old streets in a very festive atmosphere. We walked north and directly across the street from the Hilton is a statue of two oddly dressed dogs made famous in

Mayakovsky's charming, playful poem about Krasnodar. We continued toward one of the old orthodox churches and noticed vendor after vendor selling honey. I had no idea that there were this many types of honey. The shops, if placed together, would have stretched half a kilometer. Along with these vendors were other vendors selling the usual and some unusual trinkets. One shop had two tables of weird art deco style lamps, ashtrays, and objects of art. One shop was serving coffee and as I had yet to discover the Starbucks that was rumored to be near I ordered a large coffee. It was a buck Canadian and rich, dark, and superb.

            We discovered a park, just before the gold topped church and a large monument and fountain. The wedding had taken place and the party was getting photographs done near the trees and fountain. There were also large groups of fresh young military types in pressed green camouflage uniforms and polished boots. I imagine that the training academy is close by but with the hostilities and Canada’s cooperation with the USA I did feel comfortable enough to ask. 

 

The fountain was pretty as fountains go and to the west was a massive monument. When we got close, I asked Inga to tell me what it was commemorating. She tired but it was written in Old Russian and she found it difficult. It had soldiers and Mongolian looking men with swords and musical instruments. On the fountain side, I noticed a British uniform and from the style and medals could ascertain it was from the Second World War.  Together we were able to decipher that it was the British and Cossack forces commemorating the lives lost in the war.

We walked back up the street past our hotel to the south and enjoyed two outside concerts. One was a traditional Cossack singing and the other a twenty piece brass band playing swing favorites of the twenties. There were lots of advertising for upcoming concerts and they were doing all the usual suspects from Macbeth to Kiss of the Spider Woman. Culturally Krasnodar seems to have a lot on offer and I did spot the Starbucks while we were walking south.

We returned to the hotel and Inga and I enjoyed a nice dinner in the hotel. It had pricing usual to non-Russian countries in that the food had a set price and was not sold by grams. I had a hamburger famous in the Hilton chain and was surprised to learn I could have it with beef, lamb, or chicken.  Inga had some duck spring rolls and we shared some nice wine. It was a perfect end after a stressful and trying start that made me glad I had learned how to travel inside Russia

 

            The next morning found us heading to the airport, which is about a thirty-five minute cab ride worth about 900 rubles. You can take minibuses, public transport, and trolley buses for a fraction of that but my frugality was about to be shattered in London so we went for a taxi. The car was clean, new, and the driver polite and professional. We arrived three hours ahead of time, as I was still stuck in North American practices and airports. We could have slept another two hours. Inga and I spent an hour together relishing the time as two people in love do when they both know they have to be apart for a while. The call came that the gate was open and I walked over to the first-class line and boarded being slightly chided by Inga, who was until then unaware I had booked the departure as first class.  I smiled that petulant and mischievous smile and kissed her saying I loved her and would see her soon. I walked down that first-class corridor, with its own security and screening and into the lounge without looking back. I knew if I did I would burst into tears and this was not culturally acceptable.

Ok what I think about the Ukraine conflict.

     So being so very close to the problems in the Ukraine, and being a writer of military fiction it has been very hard to keep my mouth shut about what I think of the fighting. Having been a solider in a few different incarnations and an avid researcher of conflicts may not make me an expert in my mind but I am certainly better qualified than some of the talking heads CNN and some other media are parading around these days.

 
Jumping through hoops in Russia for my own registration and visa issues has also put me elevator close to some of the people being displaced by the fighting. These people have the razor edge look of someone barely holding it together. Children have the blank stares that only come with a shattered childhood innocence. Instead of girls playing hoops and boys playing war they were forced to comprehend something intelligent adults struggle with. They have been exposed to the horror of war.

This in itself is a failure of humanity and the basic beliefs put forward by civilized peace loving societies. To have exposed children in this way supercedes the who is right question. Shattering the lives of children and making them try to grasp why people want them dead are concepts past their ability. The Kiev government, shares this responsibility with the other combatants.
 
While the west, and by west I mean my country Canada as well, parades the evil Russia as the responsible party these atrocities continue. Claiming Russia is responsible is a sideline issue and one done to muddy the waters of understanding. Disagree? Ok let’s compare some facts.

Russia may have sold or provided weapons and military support to the breakaway territories in the Ukraine. While this isn’t a proven fact I will for the purpose of this article say it is so. The USA has provided Israel with far more sophisticated hardware and detailed military intelligence. So claims of support, are as I suggest a sideline issue, to stopping the hostilities and saving children from exposure to hate and fear.
  
Charging the USA with hypocrisy is akin to penalizing an elephant for being fat. Charging Russia for protecting its borders, and people are in the same vein. No country on earth paid a higher price than Russia did in the Second World War. A war simply referred to here as  “The Great War.” Is this because Russians  love war so much?  Nyet! It is a sign of respect and admiration to those that fought against incredible odds to protect their collective mother. Mother Russia. This pride and understanding are universal. Children are educated about Stalingrad, and other battles not in a glorification but in the lesson of costs. They learn what freedom cost them.

            If I were to include all of the issues of how this conflict began and try to finger point responsibility, it would probably get me more comments and page participation than misspelling participation. This is not my focus. While I encourage participation and want to stimulate you to look into all of these issues, from many sources, finger pointing is not my focus. My focus is to get you to ask if this is right or ever ok.

Humanity left unpracticed is just a stupid idea and the monsters win. We all know what the monsters are for us. For some, it may be Vladimir Putin or Barrack Obama while others may say the Illuminati. I will not judge you for your monsters. In the spirit of full disclosure, my monsters are the International Monetary Fund and the World Trade Organization. Our monsters are our own.  Just as our values and ethics or humanity are. So for me it comes down to Monsters Vs. Humans a classic fiction story arch.

            Basic humanity says it is never ok to use artillery shelling in civilian occupied areas.  Arguing to the contrary is like trying to justify tossing a grenade into a pool full of children to kill a pedophile. Yes, we universally hate pedophiles; they are accepted monsters in most societies. But only an idiot would try to say tossing a grenade into a pool, full of kids, to kill one was ok. So too is shelling a city full of people and claiming the rebels are hiding within populated areas.
 
Before you start pointing the fault finger, stop. It doesn’t matter remember? We aren’t interested in fault we are focused on stopping a child, or any other person for that matter, from growing up with hate and fear. Because if we don’t the monsters win and we have all seen enough movies to know what happens then.

Fear! Fear happens, the monsters don’t need to eat you or wrap you up in goo and plant chest bursting seeds in you. They just need you afraid; too afraid to travel, too afraid to watch, and too afraid to speak up. Fear destroys the mind and our superior minds are what separate us from the rest of this watery ball’s inhabitants.  Fear of terrorists allows the monsters to supercede or basic freedoms. It makes us think we are unsafe and need protection from the wonderful unknown.
  
I was embarrassed to read that Canadian planes were delivering supplies to the Kiev government to help with the war effort and doing nothing else. That our Conservative government had locked step and was contributing to the grenade tossing and doing nothing else. Why not load those huge, and now empty, transport planes with women and children and remove them from the fighting?

Is it now ok to brutalize women and children regardless of side and fault? Did the Canadians mission overseas switch without a vote? Did we change from one of the world’s preeminent peacekeeping forces to a puppet force of the USA without so much as a debate in parliament?  Has my countries value and ethics so drastically changed without so much as a murmur? Why are the Canadian people suddenly ok with this?

Sure it is only sleeping bags and cooking pots but these bolsters the armies’ morale. A morale that has been lacking because the regular soldiers, on the ground, have been deserting because they don’t want to be monsters.  No hero songs have ever been sung about the indiscriminate slaughter of children.

            I know I have simplified this issue a fair bit and I have only put two sides forward in a story like fashion but do I need to make it more convoluted? I believe that killing women and children in any war is not acceptable. I believe that we as humans have a debt and obligation to children to provide at the very least a safe childhood. I believe love and faith in the human race demand this of each of us and it is a personal responsibility owed to all of those in this world. I believe if we fail at this obligation couching our actions with words like practical and reasonable instead of the reality FEAR we make a choice. The choice is living with fear and not living with love and then the Monsters win. The monsters should know there are always bigger and more powerful monsters just waiting in the shadows to pounce the day humanity dies….

Culturally Russia

     I was reminded; today by Robert Dugoni that one of the best things about being a writer is the research. If you've been following this blog, you know I am in Russia doing research for the next book in the series with Rhys Munroe. Why did I need to travel all this way and bare the expense is something the taxman may ask me, and something I asked myself.

Before I got here, I don't think I could have answered that question accurately. I mean I have Google maps and street view I could have done all this research sitting at home. At least those were my thoughts prior to getting here. Now I know it would have been a very bland account. Russia has a very rich and complicated history and culture. Even now after three months in the country I am just scratching the surface of this. My grasp of the language is still minimal, but my understanding of the culture is much better. Like a deaf person who is able to see better because of his lack of hearing my ability to understand body language and glean meaning via these observations are far superior to how it used to be. The Russian people and country are, for the most part, very misunderstood in the western world. Simple things like eye contact are ruled by culture. There is an old Russian saying. "A person that sees less lives longer." This saying and behavior is carried forward into the  day to day interactions on the street. You can look at the person coming toward you but if your gaze does more than linger you force the person you're looking at to access why. Eye contact is supposed to be only brief with strangers. These behaviors may be similar in certain subcultures in Western society, like gangs, but unlike subculture modalities it is common here.

Sometimes as a foreigner I forget. A very tall women wearing five inch heels on very uneven streets may catch my attention if I look too long she is forced to figure out why I am "staring." Now in western culture a stare is a look that lingers for say twenty seconds. In Russia, that time frame drops to about seven seconds. So I am trying to keep my thousand yard stare while allowing my perception to record the subtle observations and nuances of the scene I am viewing. As in the above example; how can she possibly walk on these streets with those heels and what kind of pain is she going through for fashion?

     Fashion and dress are another culture difference that was hard to get a grasp on. Neither women nor men just toss something on to go out. While it is a stereotype that Russians overdress for everything, it is partly true. But it is through our eyes and western perception that we judge this as overdressed. The importance of being successful and taking pride in what they do is part of this. The change Perestroika forced on them created a world that was hard in judgment.  If you weren't successful, it was because you were lazy or not trying hard enough. You were all of a sudden free to pursue whatever dream you had and could rise above your birth station in life. We in the western world have long understood that while every child born in America or Canada can rise to be the leader of the country time has tempered this ideology with understanding. Perestroika is still fresh and that temper has yet to take. While we in the west see it as a great thing here, the jury is still out.

This was one of the hardest things for me as a westerner to understand. I mean freedom is held as one of our most-sacred things. So as I was doing research and came to suspect that the average Russian didn't value the new Russia as I did, I had questions.

I asked this question to my good friend and, brother from another mother. He said simply; "Go walking in a graveyard and look at the ages of the ones you find there." I have done this on a few occasions now and I understand what he meant. Russia was handed this freedom without a "how to" manual. It tore a bloody swath through the youth of the land. That revolution was hardly reported on in the western world and the price for these new opportunities was huge. An entire age group barely survived the change.

 Now it is oddly karmic that it was Marx that said "only true change comes through violent (and bloody) revolution."  But what was stranger still to me as a westerner was most local average Russians do not view this as the Great Event it was touted as in the west! They are happy for their new-found freedoms and opportunities, but direction is still missing. The west is still viewed in less than accurate light. When I explain our taxation system and size of our government, I am greeted with stares that reflect a disbelief. Canada is still viewed by Russians as the land of great riches and opportunities. While this is partly true explaining the reality of taxes and houses priced in multi-millions of rubles is greeted with astonishment. Long waits for healthcare and surgery are openly viewed with suspicion. Education and post-secondary grants and structure are past easy translation. Like explaining to a colourblind person what is the colour blue.

Simple and very obvious questions about supporting tomorrow's leaders and researchers are past my ability to explain. The actions of my government in these regards are basically an embarrassment and something past my ability to convey. How do I explain to someone that respects the elderly and supports the efforts of children to learn that we in Canada spend over a hundred thousand US dollars a year to incarcerate a bank robber while allowing our pensioners to live below the poverty line?  That highly trained Officers in jail check on these pieces of social garbage every forty-five minutes overnight to ensure they are alive while my grandmother in an old age home is checked only twice during the night? These are concepts past easy understanding in my culture, yet they are reality and the reality that I can't explain. I mean does the average Canadian actually support this? No! But we lack the ability to change it. While our elected and appointed leaders are supposed to listen to the people there is a severe disconnect. In comparison; Prime Minister Putin actually has a time he takes questions and suggestions live on the air from average Russians. I would love to see my own Prime Minister Harper respond to questions from average Canadians. I mean he is responsible to us the taxpayers, right? These disconnects between the people and the government are far more vast at home than here in Russia.

 Some other observations that are not so politically loaded are the Russian Peoples acceptance. I have discussed this a little bit in other blog entries but let us spend some time exploring this idea. I speak very little Russian and while I am initially viewed as Russian when the truth is discovered it is viewed with a mixture of panic and interest. Panic because the person I am interacting with is now concerned they can't understand what I need. Compare that to the exasperation or outright contempt when most westerners encounter someone who doesn't speak English. When they get past that initial panic and understand that however we need to work it out, we will the interest sets in. They want to know where I am from and how I like it here in Russia. They don't assume that this is the best place on earth and I find that so refreshing.

At this point the broken English, Russian, and Google translate is mixed with a dynamic game of charades and, working together, we understand each other and get past the barrier of language.  This is viewed as fun for my Russian counterparts and they actually delight in the sounds and motions I have to go through to get my point across. The perception is joy interacting with another culture, rather than being inconvenienced by a fucking foreigner that is taking up far too much time.

This is not to say Russia or Russians are perfect. Lots of things are different or get under my skin being here. Time and boundaries are issues for my new Russian friends. The basic infrastructure of things and the way of doing things are different and as such a challenge. But perhaps most of all is the simple clearing of tables. You have to hang on to your drink as glasses left mostly consumed will be taken away.  Sometimes it's the little things in life that irritate you and can't we all be thankful for that!

My Russian Cab Driver And Being A Tourist.

     Sometimes I think white people that have lived most of their lives in North America forget that other white people may have drastically different culture. I don't want this to sound racist, it is only a theory based of my own observations. Canadians may fare slightly better as we have Quebec and they have a distinctly different culture and one I am proud to have part of Canada.

For example, when we arrived in Anapa Russia one of our new bus friends gave us the number for a cab driver. He had a large enough car to accommodate all of our luggage.  It also turned out Vladimir spoke English. A very rare thing in the seaside resort of Anapa, Russia. Prior to moving to Anapa he had been a military pilot and explained in rusty but very articulate English that he had learned and later instructed English at a small island military base near Alaska.  In his prime, this man's dialect and intonation would have been perfect. His grasp of vocabulary and grammar was better than some English speaking Americans. When we arrived at our apartment, my wife Inga invited him up for a coffee and lunch. I thought this was very odd but just rolled with it.  He shared our meal and seemed to enjoy practicing English.

Later in the month we needed another ride out to the railway station to buy tickets for Ingas sister's girls and so we called Vladimir. He drove us out to the station and suggested we do some swimming at a local beach out near the station. I said yes. I find I am doing that a lot; agreeing and sometimes I even know what I am agreeing to. So one the way back Vladimir pulled into a long side road and parked. The girls, Vladimir, and myself went swimming for an hour on our driver's favourite beach. Then when we were done he invited us back to his house after quickly calling his wife. We accepted the invitation and found ourselves in a very nice little single home surrounded by a vegetable garden. Inside was spotless and nicely decorated home and we got the grand tour as Vladimir's wife got coffee, wine, caviar, and pancakes made with shaved zucchini ready. We shared a meal and learned and shared the names of different vegetables. It was an exceptionally pleasant afternoon that had me thinking about these cultural differences.

     When I was a child living in Cloverdale, all sorts of events used to take place at the fairgrounds. Living so close by we used to jump the back fence and sneak into most of them. One day we noticed large orange banners and strange music so a few buddies and me did what we always had done and jumped the fence for a look. This time was different; we were immediately captured by very tall, stern looking bearded men wearing turbans and swords! They told us to follow them with thick accents and very basic grasp of English. We followed them sure we were going to get reported to the police or worse. To our surprise and delight they brought us to a large outside area full of exotic smells. We were given plates and placed in a line. Following those in front of us we offered the plates to the ladies and they proceeded to heap large amounts of food and treats onto them. We were ushered to seats and shared a meal. I had never eaten anything like this in Canada and was surprised at how good it all tasted. After there were dances and swordplay and my friends and I enjoyed a new culture five hundred meters from my backyard.

Later when these new Canadians had issues in school or in social situations I found myself sympathetic to their plight. Not because I am an overly accepting person but because these people had showed me their cultural kindness. They had accepted my trespass for what it was, curiosity, and welcomed it and me with a meal. This simple act dictated how I interacted with Indo-Canadians for the rest of my life. Many are now proudly my friends and while sometimes their cultural differences make me pause and think it is thought with acceptance that asks could this difference make me better if I adopted it.

 I guess at the core of this is an explanation for why I would choose to leave the country many are risking everything to come to. I love Canada; I served in the military to protect her and would lay down my life for the values she represents. Is it perfect, or the best country? No, it is not. It could be better. It would do well to remember the things that built it and separated it from our neighbours. It was built by immigration and adopted the different cultures of those that made it. We should continue to do those things. Not all cultural differences should or could be adopted but surely we could grab a few of the good ones.

 Vladimir took us home, full, refreshed, and with treats from the garden. He told me the fare for the ride, the exact amount for a round trip to the railway station. We were new friends, and business is separate, as we all have to eat. I totally, culturally, got it.


       Yesterday we went to a place in Anapa called Gold Beach. It is attached to a development and

small cabin style accommodations. It is a private beach with a quasi all-inclusive setup. It is a exquisite place and it is very expensive. I don’t mean expensive from a local perspective but from a North American tourist perspective as well. So the question of value comes into play. I don’t mind spending big money for big service or exclusive treatment so did Gold Beach deliver? Yes and No.

The day was sweltering and busy. The local beaches were packed and as it was later in the morning getting a quiet place to sit, relax, and write was not going to happen. We have been living rather frugally as of late so I suggested we give this place a try. The price of admittance is only five hundred rubles per person, or a little over fifteen dollars Canadian. A reasonable price for privacy, comfortable lounge chairs, and open access to showers and toilets. It is also supposed to come with WiFi. It did have WiFi, but I couldn’t hookup to it from my phone or my laptop. The signal strength just wasn’t good enough on the beach area. It worked on the upper deck. Food is reasonably priced and superb, while drinks from the two bars are very expensive. I mean expensive from a North American standard. Don’t get me wrong; they are magnificent, prepared with exacting care and with the best of ingredients so from a value perspective I would still give it a plus.

Where I guess it fell down for me is from a customer service perspective. The bartenders were good, and very skilled but not at all friendly. They weren’t rude, but they were stereotypically Russian. While a stereotype, I had yet to experience this cold demeanor,. In my usual little “sea bar," Sergey my bartender and now facebook friend took exceptional care of me. He realized I couldn’t speak the language and took the time to be very clear and helped facilitate food orders and the like. To put a finer point on this, today is his day off. He is enjoying the day with his very beautiful girlfriend swimming in the Sea by the bar. He took a second, so quietly I almost didn’t notice, to hover near the bar while I
ordered my usual. He isn’t getting paid today, and to put it into perspective he probably doesn’t make half of what the bartenders at the Gold Beach make. Yet he took the time away from his girl to make sure I was ok. This is the other end of customer service and something I wouldn’t expect from a Canadian host at a resort, yet here it is.

So I guess the stereotypes prevail, and fail, depending on where one goes in Anapa. Strangely most North American tourists would go to Gold Beach and experience this while none would come to my little “no place special yet twice a beautiful” and experience the complete opposite.  Perhaps this is why the stereotype prevails? I hadn’t experienced it in two months of being in Russia. So I was a little shocked to find it in such an exclusive place as Gold Beach. Is it perhaps because Russians that go there expect their bar staff to be aloof? I have experienced this in exclusive clubs in Las Vegas. I treat my servers in The Foundation Room as old friends I haven’t seen in a few months and they treat me the same. Some of my friends, some American some Canadian prefer to be treated with a little more deference and as such they are. It is what they are comfortable with, and the style they prefer? Perhaps it is similar at Gold Beach?

I will be going again to Gold Beach with a very powerful and connected businessman from Anapa. I will compare the differences and post an update if required. I am not saying this place should be off your travel list if you come to Anapa.  Actually quite the contrary, it is a very nice beach with great surroundings and a kid friendly yet quite enough for adult's place. The lifeguards watch the swimmers, not their phones, and all is as advertised. The fancy inside restaurant looks quite awesome, with sea views and varied menu. It is Foundation Room Vegas expensive and written all in Russian so as a person that can’t speak the language I wasn’t comfortable ordering as you pay for things based on grams. In the example if a steak is 20 dollars per 100 grams then, you pay whatever the cut of beef that hits your plate weighs. By contrast, a Foundation Room menu breaks that down for you offering 10oz or 14oz option at fixed prices. When faced with a phone number level bill, this certainly adds a little comfort to your dining experience. In this place, I wasn’t sure if my bill would be less than the large amount of walking around money I had on me and Credit Cards are hit and miss as far as authorization goes in this country. All for my own protection; I have been assured by the companies that issued the cards although to date only my US issued card has been a problem. Global conspiracy theory implied. It has been said Banks not Tanks shape the future of nations now.

            I was asked the other day by my favourite bartender and new Facebook friend if my book was available in Russian. I think he reads quite well in Russian but so much is lost in translation. I remember my nephew Mike commenting on The Metamorphosis, a novella by Franz Kafka, and my partner at the time reflecting that it lost a great deal in the translation from German. Now I most certainly am not comparing my work to Kafka and I don’t think Grey Redemption would be a hard translation as the concepts are very simple, but I think the size is a stumbling block.

        I have many fans and readers in Russia no doubt because it is not a hurrah for America we win novel. Not that this was meant as a slight on America. But friends and family you can’t win all the time and I am getting a little bored with the expectation that you do. So to my readers and fans in Russia I will tell you the same thing I told my friend Sergey. “If it is meant to be it will happen."

It is a good idea for all writers to adopt this kind of thinking. I write to entertain, but in reality I write to get the stories out of my head. I commented the other day on Facebook that I saw someone reading Boy’s Life by Robert R. McCammon in Anapa Russia the other day. It was a translated copy. I hated and loved this book as a teen and I told Rick this once as we had breakfast together. It was his departure from one genre, and one I loved to a new one and one he has become more famous for writing. Great for Rick and bad for Scott. However he recently finished The Five that once again proved his horror writing days are not over.

This Day We Write Challenge!

 

      One of the things I loved about my childhood was Sunday mornings. On most Sundays, my Mom made bread from scratch. She didn't use a bread-maker; they had yet to be invented. I would wake up to find discoloured old pans laid out, greased, and ready for the next batch. The house perfumed with the scent of fresh bread. This in itself is a wonderful memory, but what makes it even better were "Dough-Dodgers."  These were the leftover pieces of bread that Mom would toss in a large vat of oil. They would plump up and were awesome.

The quaint little seaside bar that stocks my Guinness gets something similar delivered at 10 am each day. I say similar, but they are the same with the added treat of being stuffed with mashed potato and cheese or fried onions. I am not quite sure which of these are my favorites, more research is required.

I mention this in the context of "This Day We Write." A phrase I am going to attribute to Robert Dugoni made popular at the Surrey International Writers Conference in 2012. This may not be completely accurate but like most history it is how I remember it.

     The other day I posted a picture on Twitter that showed my new office view and challenged other writers to post up the same. I didn't do this to brag my place was the nicest or anything. I did it to help inspire and place into context some of the ideas of "This Day We Write." As a writer, the most important thing we do is write. We may create and get ideas as we go through our daily lives, but the core of the discipline is writing.

     Yesterday it rained in Anapa. When it rains here it actually pours. Torrents of rainwater rush down the streets threatening small cars and children left unattended. So it was less than my usual sunny day lets go down to the beach eat a Dough-Dodger, drink a Guinness, and write kind of days. I also had the flu, and not one of the wimpy North American varieties. I will spare you the details but consider I never lost a pound in my two bouts in Africa with malaria and this "flu" shaved six kilograms off me in one day. So I didn't feel like writing.

So I sat down and lacking any real creative inspiration past wrapping my Mac in plastic wrap "just in case" I did a bunch of editing. In that process, I discovered a little creativity in cutting things that didn't push the story forward. But the point is I wrote!

For me at least this is what being a professional writer is all about. It isn't waiting for a blast of creative insight or great opening line. It is about the discipline of sitting down each and every day and doing it. When it is kept in the forefront of our mind, research, creativity, and execution come easier than waiting till the nebulas inspiration strikes you.

    So the "challenge" was to allow new writers to see how we as published authors did it. Kathy Chung responded with a very serene picture of the yard with an empty chair. Does the empty chair represent the reader? Does the looming Black Sea in my picture represent the unknown distance Rhys must go in my manuscript?  I am not sure as I am not really that good in "reading" into things.  But I think the exercise is a valid one. So with this blog and with a few more posts on Twitter I will again attempt to get more people engaged in this little exercise. So do it to inspire new writers or do it to get retweeted by someone who has more followers than you but let's do it!

 Russia is ripe with rumors and allegations of hardcore criminal activity, organized crime and gang violence. Until the other night, I had seen no overt evidence of this. Conspiracy theories and stories abound about all sorts of people, places, and things. Russians love to talk in hushed tones with close friends about the latest issue that might be going on. It is a fun pastime and one I am learning to not put much weight in. The locals don't, but they still love to talk about it. The other day we had huge waves and a small earthquake. The various theories ran the gambit of a Russian atom crusher sub getting blown up by an American sub chaser off the coast of Crimea to an event created by HARP in Alaska. The Russian people are very creative. I commented that it was probably just a shift in the plates under the Black Sea, a very seismically active area and wave action usually follows.  While my grasp of the language is poor, my grasp of body language is excellent, and the body language said wet blanket. My logical explanation lacked creativity and something to build on. So like Spock in an improvisational comedy I had dropped the ball.  But I started this paragraph with the other night gang attack so I shouldn't keep you in suspense.

    The night had a crooked moon, blood red with foreshadowing and had I been in a Robert McCammon novel I would have been aware of the pending assault. But I wasn't I was in tourist mode walking back from a popular nightclub after having a few beer and salted fish, as is the custom. Like Vegas walking on the street with a bottle is not really legal but it is for the most part ignored. The Rose Park was closed so I cut down a back alley the street lights failing to reach into the dark recesses of the street. I felt I was being watched before I saw anyone. Years of training did not fail me but try as might to find the reason for this feeling I could not. Although as I approached the corner, this changed,  I spotted the first one. He was sitting down on his haunches, common in Russia, trying to look very casual. Too casual and when his eyes darted in my direction, for just a second, I knew my sense of being followed was correct.

I passed a car and used the rear window as a mirror to look behind me. A flash of movement, crouching low crossed behind me. Hugging the shadows from one side of the alley to the other. Watching my progression down the street with feral eyes filled with need. I knew I was the target of this desire and wished I'd taken a cab. I felt the alcohol fight with and loose to the sudden surge of adrenaline. It was going to happen soon.

I searched for others. The odds were not bad right now, but I also knew more had to be involved. Two more appeared as if on command, summoned by my fear as surely as the streetlight sudden failure had been orchestrated. I tensed my legs pumping blood into the muscles for the fight I knew was coming. There would be no option to speak with these predators; I simply lacked the language skills.  The one keeping point turned and looked right at me, our eyes locked and I knew it was go time.

The demand was direct and drawn out long, and while I didn't understand what the sound was I knew what was being said. Suddenly, as if to drive a point to the demand three others, I had yet to see flanked me and repeated the same sound with authority. The two I had seen took up positions watching up and down the street, for police we all knew would not be coming. The one that had been following me up the dark alley casually bumped me letting me know he was close.

So I was faced with a potentially very hostile situation, six against one. While all of us were adequately armed, I knew, I wasn't getting out of this unscathed. So faced with this reality I handed over the left over fish I had been stupid enough to leave the bar with. Each one approached knowing they had won this challenge and took the tribute in their mouth before disappearing back into the shadows, the last one giving me a light swat with his paw, letting me know I got off easy.

 Cats in Russia seem to be the only overt sign of territorial activity. Certain stores and shops have cats that stake out the front. Welcoming those that are familiar and watching, in that judgmental fashion only cats can do, those they don't know. My apartment complex has a few and each has a very specific territory and while meetings of a sort take place it seems very structured. This has been the only overt sign of gang activity I have seen.

 Now I am not naïve, I know in anyplace where money and transient population meet you will have organized crime. Vegas and Monte Carlo come to mind. Anapa is probably no different. What I guess is different is it is invisible. I am trained to spot these types of people and made a career of doing it well and sensing violence prior to it happening. To date I have seen nothing of the sort. I have most certainly witnessed deference displayed to VIP people, but is this because they are feared or respected? Are they criminals or pillars of the community? Perhaps a little of both?  I said to a friend here the other day that I thought the salient difference between Canada and Russia gangs and criminal activity is in Russia you know who the criminals are. They come by your shop and you pay them to keep the drunks, and petty criminals away. At home, we call that taxes and taxes pay cops to do the same. Here it is just private with fewer people having their nose in the trough. Isn't that capitalism?

Melancholy Mood in Anapa Russia

     Being away from family and friends is always difficult when traveling. Perhaps part of this is our inborn sense of guilt, or weirdly construed cultural work ethic. Technology makes this easier in some regards and demanding at the same time. While it is easier to remain connected in this wired world, because of this very thing it reminds us of what we are missing. I have been experiencing a little bit of this melancholy myself these past few days. It started in my favorite little beachside bar the other day.

     I like to type outside when I am in beautiful places. This is hard to do in English speaking countries as my attention is too often pulled away by the surrounding conversations. Thankfully my type of fiction takes me to exotic non-English speaking locales.  The other day I was sitting in my usual local bar and when I went up to get another Guinness, I realized I had a Canadian "loony" in my pocket. I sit for long periods so I usually tip very well as I am taking up a seat for longer than usual. My great bartender knew I was an English speaker as we had had a few games of charades already as he tried diligently to understand what I was asking. So I gave him the "loony" along with my usual tip. His face lit up at the gold coloured coin and he asked "Canadian"? I nodded and smiled when he showed the other staff as soon as I walked away. A few minutes later the sound system that usually plays a medley of Russian music started a Bryan Adams tune from my youth. At first I thought this was just a serendipitous coincidence. Then the Canadian National Anthem started and as I stood I noticed the bar staff watching me. Standing with emotion pouring down my cheeks, I was made very aware of just how much I was missing home.

    This morning my brother from another mother used the Apple application Facetime to bring me to the wedding of two good friends back in Canada. Nubia and Sean got married earlier in the day and Dimitri called me from the reception. So even though it was first thing in the morning for me I shared a drink and toast with the people that still remained. The phone being passed to each still in attendance, and I have to admit the visual perspective was not unlike being loaded. It hit me that I hadn't been at work for three months. It also hit me how much these people were family. While the type of work makes this connection perhaps stronger, I imagine it is similar for all. Congratulations and good wishes were shared with all and the call ended again with me missing home.

I should put home in quotations, as while Vancouver will always be my home, Anapa Russia is where I am choosing to call home now. Despite all the challenges that come with remaining in Anapa  Russia. These are not the fault of Russia or Canada just the reality of where relations between our two countries have brought us. Why we are so far apart is still a mystery to me. We seem to share much of the same values and dreams,  Family and times with friends are goals pursued by the average Russian. A trait shared with the average Canadian. We both have a very socialist ideology and government structure. We both believe that health care and education are basic rights for all. So I am very confused when I look at our Visa requirements. Citizens of the USA enjoy a far easier process and can stay in Russia far longer than Canadians.

     It's getting close to the Surrey International Writers Conference again. I won't be able to attend again this year as I will be on the other side of the world. Believe me when I say this is the only reason I won't be attending.  Last year found me locked into doing things for Grey Redemption and prevented me attending and I missed it. This year the five thousand in airfare makes the trip irresponsible. I am slowly learning this thing called responsibility! But this newly learned skill doesn't stop my desire to attend. I learned so very much from the other authors in attendance. Perhaps the most important of which was humility.

     So while I get to be kept in the loop with what is going on at home and I try to keep you and everyone else in the loop with these blog entries, Facebook, Skype, and Facetime it isn't the same as being there. If I had the funds, I think I'd be racking up the air miles but within the reality that is technology will have to suffice. It is not lost on me that this substitute is sadly lacking.