Nungesser's Retrospective

Thanks to all of you who have read and posted replies to the threads I've posted about my two trips to Russia to adopt Ashton Beauregard.

I started this text and illustration of this blogas we set off on our first trip, but they got longer when I sat down one afternoon in Moscow after my DW and I arrived there after losing our second referral in Ulyanovsk. Writing those threads was cathartic and really did make me feel a lot better. Perhaps it was the chance to give vent to my penchant for sarcasm.

Many of you, especially those who have yet to depart for their first trip, have posted replies or sent me private messages thanking me for the posts. You’ve said you liked the verbal and visual descriptions of ordinary everyday life in Russia, the adoption process with various government officials, and tips for making travel in Russia more comfortable. I hope that reading our story and seeing our photos reduces the anxiety of at least one of you.

Many of you also asked for more of my feelings and innner thoughts during the process. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm a lot better at describing the things I externally observe. I've never been good at introspective writing. Through both our trips to Russia I never got sentimental. It was pretty much business. It was like I was there on behal of someone else; a spectator to my own life, calling all the plays but observing from the booth. Between trips we left a disposable camera with the baby home staff to take photos of Ashton Beau for us - something I urge others of you to do. When we got home I had those photos developed. It was not until I looked through those photos did it really hit me. I had momentary glimpse into Ashton Beau's world without me and DW, what his life would be like if we, or another parent or parents, did not go to Orenburg for him. I was near tears looking at those photos and all I have to do is think about them, without even pulling them out of the envelope, to bring me to the brink of tears again.

Now that the Russian travel leg of my journey is over, I hope that some of you take up the pen, or the keyboard, and to take all of us along on your trips to Russia. There is much I fondly remember and I’ll enjoy rekindling memories reading about your experience. I'll keep posting with more photos of Ashton Beau too.

If I had to sum up what it’s like to adopt from Russia in 100 words or less, I’d quote the following line from Al Swearengen. No, it’s not pretty and you won’t find it on an inspirational poster depicting sunsets, mountains, or puppies. It may even offend some of you. However, I find its coarseness sincere and authentic. It portrays how cruel being a prospective adoptive parent going to Russia can really be and what kept me going:

"I don't wanna talk to these cock suckers, but ya have to. In life, you have to do a lot of things you don't fuckin' want to do. Many times that's what the fuck life is, one vile fucking task after another... But, don't get aggravated... Then the enemy has you by the short hair"

If that offended you, I suggest you find a different road to parenthood, you need a stronger stomach. However, I assure you that when you go to Russia you will find some of the finest and most devoted people enaywhere in the world. Of those I met, I miss each of them and owe them something I can nver really repay. And that in in addition to your sons and daughters. In the end, it's all more than worth it!

Season II, Episode 12: Sweet Home Chicago

The alarm on my phone went off just when scheduled. DW and I awoke and make our final preparations to depart for SVO II (e.g., put our toiletries in our bags, take the бифидок and Camelbak reservoir now filled with ice out of the fridge and freezer respectively and install them in the insulated part of my backpack). Ashton Beau was still asleep in his room. This was another luxury of renting Pasha’s apartment. DW and I finished preparing to leave while Ashton Beau slept. That’s practically impossible in a standard hotel room. And six nights in a multi-room suite in a Moscow hotel costs about the same as the down-payment on a new car, or a turkey sandwich at Cosí.

With our final preparations finished, we woke up Ashton Beau, dressed him, and prepared him and all of his gear to leave too. Pasha arrived at 4:30 AM as scheduled. Pasha and I carried our gear down the four flights of steps to the ground level – one of the not so luxurious features of staying in a private apartment instead of a hotel. But at least we were descending the stairs this time.

We went outside into a dense fog and loaded the car. One of the good things about leaving at 4:30 AM is that the streets are clear of the usual Moscow traffic. We arrived at SVO II in less than 30 minutes. We pulled up in the driveway in front of the terminal and stopped to unload. I hopped out and grabbed one of the luggage carts to move our gear on. Then DW, Ashton Beau and I headed into the terminal while Pasha parked his car. There was a first security check-point just as we entered the door to the terminal. By the time we got to the front of the queue to go through, Pasha rejoined us.

We unloaded the cart and put ourselves and our gear through the screening equipment, reloaded the gear back onto the cart, and went toward the ticket counters. There is a gateway between the rest of the terminal and the ticket counters. Only passengers are supposed to go beyond this gateway. DW and I turned to Pasha, thanked him for all of his help, and said fare well.

Before we got to the ticket counter we put our checked bags through another security screening. When the bags emerged we entered the queue for the ticket counter. There we waited for what seemed like for ever. When DW and I are together we always split up between two queues. We rejoin when one of us get to the end of their queue. Neither of our queues was long, but both were so slow I thought I was going to have to put down a stake just to see if we moved. There was a gentleman in front of me that just could not get things straightened out. In front of DW was an American family with at least three children and a dog. The Lufthansa agent just could not figure out how to check-in so many people, and one animal, all at once.

Finally my queue started to move. DW and Ashton Beau joined me when I got to the counter. We checked-in and got our boarding passes all the way through Frankfurt to Chicago.

While we were at the counter, two Russian “gentlemen” butted the queue and strolled up to the counter next to us. Those in the queue behind us were enraged. These two “gentlemen” insisted that they could butt the queue because they had "business class" tickets. That was until everyone behind us in the queue informed them that they had "business class" tickets too – “why do you think we're all standing in this queue for the business class counter! I thought for a moment there might be a confrontation – you know, “the NWA - the major leagues of professional wrestling” right there at Lufthansa counter at SVO II. I was relieved to see no nearby folding chairs or tennis racquets that could be thrown astray and hit someone in my party. Fortunately, one of the counter agents schooled these two “gentlemen” and convinced them that they would be better off at the end of the queue instead of on the other end of a rope.

All that excitement behind us, we left the counter, stopped in a low traffic area to collect ourselves and our things, and then headed to the passport booth. I took a deep breath and I prepared to hand our passports and Ashton Beau’s visa and adoption documents (e.g., adoption certificate, new birth certificate, certified copy of the court order granting adoption) over to the young woman in the passport control booth. I looked at the center of her forehead and handed the package of documents to her with a polite, but imperious, demeanor. She looked at the documents for a minute, stamped our passports, handed them back to us, and we moved on.

We headed to the Lufthansa departure lounge on the second floor to pass the time before our aircraft was scheduled to depart. With Ashton Beau in his stroller and no elevator visible, DW and I each grabbed one side and hauled him up a flight of stairs. With DW and Ashton Beau firmly ensconced in the lounge, I headed out to spend the last of my Rubles. Most of the duty free stores wanted Dollars or Euros and none I went in had the Russian Brilliant Vodka [Водка Русский Бриллиант] or Moscovsky Cognac [Московский Коньяк] I was looking for. I remembered seeing both offered at a restaurant on the second floor on our first trip. They still had both. With a few . One for our neighbor who watched our house and one for each of my twin eight year old nieces. I hurried back to the lounge. We did not have a lot of time before departure. I got the dolls and the bottles safely stowed in our carry-on baggage and we made off for the gate.

We must have been doing OK. There was a Swedish gentleman in the lounge that was on our flight. While I was out DW spoke with him. He told DW he was surprised that we were going home from an adoption trip. He though we were an expatriate family on our way home to the West for the summer.

Traveling with a baby has its disadvantages, but it also has some advantages too. Unlike the near body cavity search I got at the departure gate security check-point I got when we left SVO II on our first trip, they just scanned our bags and let us through the metal detector. The only inconvenience was removing our shoes, but we’d grown pretty used to that by now. The boarding queue was long but a gate agent noticed Ashton Beau. He accosted us and led us to the front of the line. Those two “gentlemen” back at the ticket counter should have brought a baby instead of a bad attitude.

We boarded, stowed our gear and sat down. Ashton Beau was captivated by the window and stood on my lap with his nose pressed against the glass as we taxied out onto Runway 7 Left. The pilots put the throttles forward and our aircraft roared east down the concrete. A minute later DW and I breathed a sigh of relief once we were airborne, wheels up and flaps up.

It was about a three hour flight to Frankfurt. After a light breakfast of real coffee, musli, bread, cheese, and thinly sliced pork, I nodded off for about an hour of sleep. Ashton Beau slept for about the same amount of time. The flight attendants were courteous and helpful and even gave Ashton Beau a Lufthansa rattle in the shape of a duck.

We arrived on schedule in Frankfurt. It felt good to be back in the West and see the ramp across the runway full of U.S. Air Force C-17’s. Our layover was about 2 hours so we went to the Lufthansa business class lounge. It was crowded with all sorts of people from all over the globe - everything from Danish businessmen to a family with three young boys from somewhere in the Middle East. The facilities and appointments were OK, but not great. Among its best, however, are the restrooms with baby changing areas, showers, and an unlimited supply of gummi bears and other German gummi candies. Good coffee too.

We left about an hour and a half later and headed to our gate. Luckily for us, we both arrived from Moscow and departed for Chicago from the “B” concourse; we did not have a long hike through the Frankfurt airport like on our way to Moscow. However, we did have to pass through an additional security check-point. It looked like all of the flights departing for North America were beyond this extra check-point.

We queued up at the gate and in the process of gate-checking Ashton Beau’s stroller and confirming that our seats were prepared for the baby bassinet, DW forgot the bag with all of Ashton Beau’s diaper gear in it as we boarded. In all the excitement we had forgot to count off the bags before going down the jet way. DW noticed the missing diaper bag as we stowed our luggage in the overhead bins and I sprinted back to the gate to retrieve the diaper bag. It was right by the gate. I grabbed it and hurried back to the aircraft.

In our seats we settled down and waited to push back and take off. The aircraft was not crowded and everything went smoothly. We were lucky so far, the change in aircraft cabin pressure as we ascended and descended did not bother Ashton Beau’s ears.

About 30-45 minutes after take-off, one of the flight attendants opened the overhead storage area and took down the bassinet components. He assembled it on the bulkhead in front of DW. Ashton Beau got in, Ashton Beau got out. We put a blanket over the top of the bassinet trying to make it dark and subdued enough for him to go to sleep. All to no avail! We flew for nine hours from Frankfurt to Chicago and Ashton Beau did not sleep a wink. But the bassinet was a fun place to play and he was pretty well behaved and quiet throughout our flight. The little girl (I think about four) in the row behind us and the flight attendants kept him entertained with extra attention.

We landed in Chicago and taxied to Terminal 5. We deplaned and then waited at the top of the jet way for Ashton Beau stroller. We were among the first off the aircraft, but by the time the stroller arrived, we were among the last to leave the jet way. We lined up in the passport control queue and waited our turn. The gentleman in the booth took all of our passports and Ashton Beau’s visa package. He returned the passports and then instructed us to stand to the side and wait, someone would be with us in a moment regarding Ashton Beau’s visa.

Within a minute another gentleman appeared and escorted us over to another booth. He asked us a few questions about Ashton Beau and gave us some papers (social security card application and passport application I think). He stamped Ashton Beau passport and said the stamp was his proof of U.S. citizenship until he received his U.S. passport. He congratulated us and sent us on our way to claim our bags.

It took a long tome for our bags to arrive. The bags from our flight came out on two carousels - one carousel for bags going onto somewhere else that needed to go through U.S. Customs first, and another carousel for bags whose final destination was Chicago. Ooops, they forgot to mention the second carousel so we found it by happenstance when DW saw one of our bags go by on it.

Then we queued up to hand in our customs declaration card. That passed with no problem. Our final hurdle was an agricultural check-point. They put our bags through one more scanner and searched one of my carry-on bags. I guess the government wants to ensure we were not bringing any fruit flies or mad cow disease hamburger back with us.

Finally we emerged into the terminal. We decided to return quietly and told friends and relatives not to meet us at the airport. Instead, DW’s friend, also our neighbor, Linda drove our car to the airport to pick us up. At first we could not find Linda. And she is one of the few people left in the Chicago metropolitan area without a mobile phone. She was waiting for us by a different exit from the passport and customs area. DW found her. We snapped a few photos, she "oohed and ahhhed" over Ashton Beau and were ready to drive home.

We walked out into the car park, loaded up the car, and put Ashton Beau in his car seat for the first time. We all wondered how he would react to the car seat. No problem. Half way home he was asleep. DW and I were both tired and Linda drove. I tapped out an e-mail on my Blackberry to our agency and families that we were back in Chicago and would be home soon. The drive from O’Hare to our house is less than 30 minutes.

DW’s parents had dropped by our house to drop off food and some extra bottle nipples before we arrived home. They were still there when we arrived. We pulled in the driveway and got out of the car. Linda had put up a big “Welcome Home Ashton” sign with balloons on our front lawn. I shot some photos of DW and Ashton Beau getting out of the car. DW’s parents welcomed us home and of course were quite interested in their new grandson. I greeted everyone and then got to work unloading the car.

We snapped some photos of all of us and I took Ashton Beau up to see his room and put him in his crib just so he could check it out. Wishing to remain unobtrusive, Linda and DW’s parents left for their respective homes about 20 minutes later. Then, at 2:30 PM on a Wednesday afternoon, after 18 months, countless papers, notorial acknowledgements, apostilles, finger printings, two trips to Russia including Moscow, Ulyanovsk, and Orenburg our journey came to a happy, though I must confess, anti-climactic, end - just the way I hoped it would.

DW and Ashton Beau waiting in the queue at the Lufthansa counter at SVO II.

More of the waiting passengers at the SVO II Lufthansa counter. Note the dog crate in the center.



The gate area for our departure at SVO II.



Lufthansa aircraft lined up at their gates at the Frankfurt airport.



Nungesser and Ashton Beau in the Lufthansa lounge at the Frankfurt airport.



A view of the River Rhine after departing from Frankfurt.



Looking out our window at the port wing and the No. 1 engine of our aircraft.



DW playing with Ashton Beau.



Ashton Beau flirting with a flight attendant.



Ashton Beau relaxing with DW.




Ashton Beau examines the bassinet.



Ashton Beau, not sleeping in his bassinet.



Ashton Beau, still not sleeping in his bassinet.



DW, after exhausting all efforts to get Ashton Beau to sleep in his bassinet.



DW, Ashton Beau, and Nungesser after emerging from customs and passport control in Chicago.



DW at home bringing Ashton Beau out of the car.



Ashton Beau by his Welcome Home sign from his Aunt Linda.



Ashton Beau checking-out his new crib in his new room.



DW, Ashton Beau, and Nungesser on the front porch at home.

Season II, Episode 11: Visa

Tuesday June 14th dawned hot and humid in Moscow. The cotton was still falling from the trees and the sun was shining in the sky.

We all got up and had our breakfast. I then left once more for the Metro again. I was going to the Moscow office of my firm. I had sent a package there from Chicago and was going to pick it up. Among the contents of the package, a runner's Camelbak for Pasha. He’s runs marathons and running in Moscow’s summer is oppressive. I thought the Camelbak would relieve some of it.

This trip offered a new challenge, I had to transfer between two different lines of the Metro to get to the office. I would need to take the 2 (Green) line to the Театральня/Охотный Ряд Metro station, then transfer to the 1 (Red) line and take it to the Тургеневская (pronounced “Turgenevskaya”) Metro station.

It was not a difficult as I thought it would be. I arrived at the Театральня/Охотный Ряд station with now problem and followed the arrows on signs with a red “1” in side a red circle to the 1 (Red) line. I looked up and at the “1” and “2” track signs, found Тургеневская on one of the signs and went to the side of the platform the arrow on the sign pointed two. A train arrived and I was on my way.

I did notice that with it being a work-day, event at around 10:30 AM, the Metro was much more crowded that over the weekend or on the Constitution Day holiday. First we stopped at the Лубяанка(pronounced “Lubyanka”) Metro station. I was tempted to get out and see the Lubyanka Square [Лубяанка Площад] home to the headquarters of the RSV, successor to the KGB, NKVD, and Cheka. But I had business to attend to so I kept on going. Тургеневская was the next stop and I exited the train when it pulled up to the platform. I took a guess at which exit from the station would put me closest to my destination and hoped I was going in the right direction.

It was raining when I got to the street and was glad I brought an umbrella with me. When it’s not cold enough to snow in Moscow, it rains often. I found sheltered area, pulled out my map and a small compass I attached to my backpack and started to get a bearing on where I should go. I read a few of the nearby blue street signs that are mounted on the sides of the buildings and, after a short amount of time I figured out where I was. Wouldn’t it be nice if life came with a “you are here” sign everywhere? Oh yeah, it’s called GPS and many say you’re not supposed to take them to Russia.

I then found where I was and where I needed to go. I was actually only about a block-and-a-half away. I entered the building, approached security desk, identified myself and said where I was going. One of the security guards asked me to wait and picked-up the phone. About a minute later a young lady name Ekaterina [Екатерина] came out and introduced herself. We had corresponded by e-mail for several months, but had never met in person. She escorted me with her key-card through the security turnstile and showed me into the lobby of our office. Ekaterina introduced me to the lawyers and staff in the office and showed me around. Then she delivered the package I sent from Chicago. I didn’t stay long. I wanted to get back to our apartment in time for some lunch before DW, Ashton Beau, and I headed to our 2:00 PM appointment at the U.S. Embassy to get Ashton Beau’s visa.

I returned to the Metro, retraced my steps and arrived just in time for lunch. Luckily, I’d called DW from my mobile phone to tell her I was on my way back so there was hot pizza when I arrived. Yes!!

After Pizza we got Ashton Beau dressed, prepared his gear, and waited for Pasha to arrive. He was there at 1:30 PM sharp. We all got into his car and headed off to the U.S. Embassy. Pasha’s wife arrived at about the same time with another family from our agency that joined the queue behind us. The traffic was light and we arrived without delay. There were two queues outside the embassy. One for U.S. citizens waiting to get in – the short queue – and the queue for non-U.S. Citizens waiting to submit visa applications or pick-up a visa – the long queue.

First we went through a security check-point by a grey hut. All of the security guards we encountered were local Russian hired to work at the embassy. After the first check-point we went into a long hall that was bright white. The hall reminded me of something out of 2001 A Space Odyssey. On the right side of the hall is a raised desk with a security guard who checked-in all of my electronic devices (e.g., camera, mobile phone, Blackberry) and gave me a plastic claim check with a number on it.

After the long hall we came upon another security check-point with a metal detector and an x-ray machine, like at the airport. I forgot some electronic device in my bag so they sent me back to the claim-check desk to check it. Then I returned through the metal detector. DW passed through this check-point with no problem. While she waited for me she went to the machine that gave her a ticket with a number on it.

Once I rejoined DW we turned 90 degrees to the left, went 15 paced down another corridor, another 90 left, and up a few stairs. The room then opened up to reveal a lot of waiting chair lined up in six to seven rows. Around the perimeter of the room were cashier like looking windows. We stepped up to the cashier located by window #6 as instructed on the embassy’s website regarding adoptions (http://www.usembassy.ru/consular/wwwhci5.html). DW handed her Master Card to the gentleman behind the window to pay the visa application fee, he pulled out a file with Ashton Beau’s visa application, processed the card, gave us our receipt, and told us to deliver our receipt to another window and few down the wall. We delivered the receipt and, as instructed by the lady who took it, waited in the waiting area.

I have to digress here for a moment regarding the visa application forms. They are used for a lot of visas other than IR-3 and IR-4 orphan visas. One is to be filled out by the applicant him or herself. We filled out Ashton Beau’s for him. Some of the blanks are kind of confusing, and actually funny, when the applicant is only one year old. Things like “what is your occupation?” “How many times have you been married?” “How many children do you have?”

This was one of the few places I did not bring Ashton Beau’s battery powered and I regretted it. It was hot as Hades in that waiting area. We waited 30-40 minutes at least until our number cam up on the counter over one of windows. We stepped up and you gentleman in his late twenties introduced himself. He asked us to proof Ashton Beau’s visa application and then asked us some other questions about had we both seen him before the adoption hearing, were we both aware of his medical condition, were we both prepared register him with the Russian consulate and have post-placement visits from the social worker. After about 10 minutes he handed us a sealed manila envelope. Stapled to the envelope was a summary sheet summarizing information about Ashton Beau and his visa with a photo of him. The gentleman instructed us to deliver the envelope to the immigration officer when we came through passport control at O’Hare upon our return to Chicago and to not break the seal on the envelope or separate the summary page under any circumstances. Lastly, he admonished us to “keep a low profile” because of the recent controversy in Russia surrounding foreign adoptive parents. Timely advice! We’d already been in Russia for over 10 days, almost a week of that with Ashton Beau and we were leaving in less than 24 hours. We assured him we would maintain a low profile.

I put the visa envelope in a nylon case with a clear front so we could show the summary sheet to officials without them having to handle the envelope itself and risk breaking the seal or separating the summary page. Then we turned to leave.

It was raining pretty hard outside and a lot of AP’s were in the exit hallway waiting for the rain to let up. Luckily I still had my umbrella with me. I went out, past the grey security hut and around the side of the main building to a window where I turned in my claim ticket and claimed all of my electronic devices.

Then we met Pasha on the sidewalk and headed to the car. The other family wife from our agency with Pasha’s was going to get something to eat and we decided to join them. We drove about 10-15 minutes to the Amerkansky Café just off of Tverskaya Street, not far from one of the Marriotts. I usually don’t drink them even back in the states, that chocolate milkshake tasted good!

After dining we returned to our apartment. I went back to the grocery store and bough them out of бифидок. For the flight home I loaded my Camelbak reservoir with ice and filled the rest of the insulated compartment with .g liter cartons of бифидок. We had some supper, bathed, finished packing, set the alarm on my mobile phone for 3:30 AM and went to bed.

In the next episode, Nungesser, DW, and Ashton Beau take a Moscow a long flight from Moscow to Chicago and Ashton Beau becomes a citizen of the United States.

The view on a Metro platform.

Part of the long transfer tunnel between the №.2 (Green) and №.1 (Red) lines of the Moscow Metro.



One of the entrances to the Тургеневская Metro station.



A Russian office building. Note the blue steet and building number sign on the left.



Nungesser riding the Metro back to his apartment.



Nungesser preparing Ashton Beau to go to the U.S. Embassy.



The visa interview ticket from the U.S. Embassy, No. [HO] 17, beside Ashton Beau's passport.



Ashton Beau's sealed visa envelope with the summary page stapled to the front all encased together in a protective map-holder Nungesser bought at REI.

Season II, Episode 10: Long Weekend

We all slept in Saturday morning. One of the luxuries of staying in an apartment is that Ashton Beau had his own separate room. If DW or I wanted to stay up late, prepare a meal, or watch TV, we could do so without disturbing Ashton Beau. It also gave us space to spread out. Because we had a kitchen, a washing machine, etc., we were able to take up life much like an ordinary family. If you can fend for yourself in foreign surroundings without English speaking service, I recommend an apartment over a hotel.

We got lucky because Pasha and his family were at their dacha for the summer and he offered to rent us his apartment. However, there are several other reputable services that can help you get an apartment in Moscow. On our first trip, and the first night of our second trip, I hired apartments from Peace Travel. Thy have good apartments with good locations. They can supply a crib and other child related conveniences if ask.

The catch is that depending on the season, you have to reserve and pay your rental fee pretty far in advance. That is tough with the unpredictability of Russian adoption travel. On our first trip we stayed in Ulyanovsk two days longer than we expected and we lost two nights worth of rental fees on an apartment I reserved for those two nights in Moscow. Before I left on our second trip I was determined not to let that happen again.

Before Pasha offered to rent us his apartment I had a plan. First, I reserved a room for the dates I thought we would be in Moscow at one of the Western hotels AP’s and PAP’s frequent. This hotel had a very liberal cancellation policy. If I canceled even within 24 hours before our scheduled check-in, there was no cancellation fee and I did not get charged for any of the nights I had reserved. The hotel was my back-up plan, our reserve accommodations. Second, I planned to contact the various apartment rental services once we were firm on our departure from Orenburg for Moscow. If they had an apartment available, I’d reserve one and cancel our hotel reservation. If they had no apartments available, we’d use the hotel room I reserved. Of course we ran the risk of no apartments being available, but it was less than reserving an apartment and risking paying for nights we could not use an apartment I’d reserved far in advance because we had to extend our stay in Orenburg longer than expected.

Because the following Monday was the Russian Constitution Day holiday, we had a three day weekend to spend in Moscow. On Saturday we walked about the neighborhood and went to the mall, the grocery store, and for coffee. Three days was just too long to stay sequestered in our apartment for three days like escape prisoners in a safe-house. We’d have to get out. Any why not, when would be our next opportunity to see Moscow?

I knew we would need transportation and the Moscow Metro was the best candidate. On Saturday I went alone to scout the Metro. First I studied the location of our apartment, the Аэропорт Metro station, my destination (Red Square [пл. Красная]), and the Metro stations near it on Eatlas (www.eatlas.ru). Eatlas has excellent maps of the whole Russian Federation and the best street maps form Moscow and St. Petersburg I’ve found anywhere, including the bookstores in Moscow. The street maps mark the locations of the Metro stations and go down to such close detail that they identify the building numbers. Especially useful for AP’s and PAP’s, you can view Eatlas’s maps of Russia in English or Russian by clicking on the little British flag button. I also prefer to select the Professional option when selecting the Map View Mode. Another site called Moscow-Taxi (www.moscow-taxi.com) has a lot of good, and free, information about Moscow too.

I planned to get on at the Аэропорт station near our apartment (named for an airport near there when the station was originally build in the 1930’s), get myself down to the Театральня/Охотный Ряд Metro station near Red Square, and then back again. I figured that if I could do that on my own, at a leisurely pace with no distractions, then I’d be ready to take DW with Ashton Beau with me the following day.

I descended into the tunnel and entered the Metro station. I bought a Metro card with several rides on it (13 Rubles per ride) from the lady behind the glass window, studied the Metro map, inserted my card into the turnstile, retrieved it, and walked through. Then I descended a short flight of stairs to the train platform. During our tour the day before Pasha had showed me which side of the platform to go from; however, I checked the signs anyway to ensure I would get on a train headed in the right direction. This is where learning to speak and read Russian was really paying off. I made sure to count how many stations I needed to go just in case I missed the signs or announcements over the loudspeaker.

A train pulled up within a couple of minutes. One of the best things about the Moscow Metro is how frequently the trains run. Seldom do you wait more than three or four minutes for a train. I hopped in the train and stood right by a map of the Metro system so I could count off stations and keep my bearings. The train rumbled out of the station.

If the frequency of the trains on the Moscow Metro is one of its best features, its loudspeaker announcement system and signage visibility from on board the train is two of its worst. The operation of the train is loud and often the volume of the speakers is not. Combining that with poor sound quality and an unfamiliar language make it difficult to hear, and understand, announcements, like what the next station will be. I also noticed that most Metro stations only have signs with the station name on the outer wall of the station. This works great when you are standing on the platform looking across the tracks at the sign with no train in front of you. But when you are on the train, it is very difficult to read these signs through the windows of the train because you eyes are so close to the outer wall. Imagine trying to read a large sign with your nose almost touching it. In most stations there are no signs behind the platform; if you are looking from the train into the station, you often will not see any signs telling you what station you are in. One more critique I have for the Moscow Metro is that stations with multiple lines stopping in them may have different names depending on what line you are arriving or departing on. This makes the system more confusing. Because of these things, I had to pay extra close attention to the progress of my train.

But paying close attention paid off and I made it to the Театральня/Охотный Ряд Metro station without a problem. I exited the train, went about five paces out onto the platform and took a good look around. I wanted to get my bearing as well as identify some signs and landmarks to ensure I could find my way back when the time came. Looking down the platform I was a sign that said “Exit To City [Выход В Город]” above an escalator. I headed in that direction.

I emerged from the Metro station south of the Bolshoi Theater [Большой Театр]. First I called DW on my mobile phone to let her know I made it OK. Then I walked over in front of the theater, snapped a couple photos and then headed back towards Red Square. Unfortunately the authorities had closed off most of Red Square to set up for the Constitution Day festivities the following Monday. I Walked up through the Resurrection Gate just east of the State Historical Museum and got few photos from the northern perimeter of the square. Then I went back north through Resurrection Gate onto Manezhnaya Square [пл. Манежная] and through another tunnel under Ochotnee Ryad Street [ул. Охоеный Ряд] and emerged on Tverskaya Street [ул. Тверская] to look for a Stardogs. I soon found one and purchased the now famous sausage sandwich and a lemonade. I then returned south to enjoy my sausage sandwich and lemonade under a nice shady tree just east of the State Historical Museum. By the time I finished, it was time to hop back on the Metro and head back to our apartment.

I found my way back to the Metro entrance without a problem. Again here I paid petty close attention to my route when I was coming out of the Metro so I could easily find my way back. I went down the escalator next to the one I came upon and got back to the platform. The signage was a little confusing at first. There was a sign with a blue “1” on the right and a blue “2” on the left pointing across the platform with the names of stops on it. I knew I had to be on the № 2 (Green) line to get back to the Аэропорт station. The “1” side of the sign had the Аэропорт station on it and pointed to a set of tracks. But I was afraid that I might be getting on the № 1 (Red) line headed where I should not be going. After a few moments I saw another sign that assured me the “1” on the first sign referred to the northbound track or the № 2 (Green) line, not the № 1 (Red) line. Confusion cleared up I moved to the northbound side of the platform and waited for a train. It arrived in a couple of minutes and after a ten minute ride I was back at the Аэропорт station.

After emerging from Metro station I again called DW on my mobile phone to ask if she wanted anything; I was right next to the mall with the grocery store. She said no so I walked another ten minutes back to our apartment.

I spent the rest of the day playing with Ashton Beau, writing some of the early Season II episodes and trying unsuccessfully to download photos off of my camera onto Pasha’s PC. We all went out for a walk and then DW prepared supper. After playing some more with Ashton Beau we put him in his playpen/crib for bed. Then DW and I watched the Bogart and Bacall in the 1946 production early film noir of Dark Passage, one of my all time favorites.

The next day started the same. In the afternoon all three of us hopped on the Metro as tourists and went down to Red Square to be tourists. Unfortunately for us, in preparation for Constitution Day, officials had closed off much of the area north of the StateHistoricalMuseum rendering it much more difficult for us to get around the area. We had to carry Ashton Beau’s stroller up and down a lot of small stairs around the perimeter of a construction site where someone is building a shopping mall northeast of the museum along Ochotnee Ryad Street.

Ashton Beau had grown discontented with his strolled. He was fine in the Baby Bjorn on the Metro, but he had had enough of being harnessed in, especially when we were stopped for anything. We walked up Tverskaya Street to Kamergersky Perulok [пер. Камергеский] to eat some Stardogs. After finishing another satisfying visit to Stardogs, I went up to the Citibank on Tverskaya Street to get some more Rubles at the ATM. Then we headed back down towards the Alexander Gardens. Ashton Beau was still unhappy and I was starting to regret we came on this little outing. We noticed there was something big about to happen in front of the history museum. It was all cordoned off and there was a huge gathering of police officers, several hundred at least. We approached to see what it was all about.

We soon discovered that Ashton Beau needed a new diaper. DW was mortified. Where would we change him? All these people would see! She accomplished one of the quickest “poopie” diaper changes I’ve ever seen and did it with Ashton Beau reclined in his stroller. My hat was off to her as I walked to a rubbish bin to discard Ashton Beau’s debris. With Ashton Beau and ourselves cleaned-up (remember that easy access bottle of Purell) we bought some ice cream from one of the many vendors and took a moment to enjoy eating it while watching people gather for the spectacle. We never found out what they were gathering for because we soon left for our apartment.

Ashton Beau was still not his usually charming self so we decided it was time to go. To avoid the construction site, we headed down into the Metro by an alternate route I remembered from when we were with Valentina on our first trip in March. Instead of navigating the perimeter of the construction site with all of its ups and downs, we went via a long underground tunnel to the platform for the № 2 (Green) line back to the Аэропорт station. Back on the Metro, noisy, hot, and crowded as it was, Ashton Beau returned to his more subdued and happy self. Go figure.

After returning to our apartment I went back to the mall to have the contents of the memory sticks on my camera transferred to CD so could I could copy files and upload them here to post with some of the early Season II threads. The photo store in the mall said they could do it in about an hour so I dropped off the sticks and went upstairs to a restaurant called Moo Moo [Му Му] with a bovine motif. Moo Moo serves mostly traditional Russia food in a sort of cafeteria style. I got a beer and went out on their deck and fund a nice shady table under an umbrella overlooking Leningradsky Prospekt. I took out my Blackberry and wrote part of an episode for about an hour and half a then returned to the photo store to get my CD and memory sticks.

I returned home, we had some supper, and it was soon again time for Ashton Beau to get his evening bottle and go to bed. After he went to sleep DW and I watched Twisted with Ashley Judd, Andy Garcia, and Samuel L. Jackson. Like Dark Passage it’s set in San Francisco. Unlike Dark Passage, it won’t become one of my favorites.

The following day (Monday) we walked the neighborhood. We all went to the Moo Moo restaurant for lunch and then stopped by one of the 24 hour pharmacies in our neighborhood to pick up some extra Avent #2 nipples for Ashton Beau’s bottles. From what I observed, most grocery stores sell baby food, but not supplies like diapers and bottles. However, the pharmacies are usually well stocked.

In the next episode, Nungesser goes to his office and Ashton Beau gets his visa.


One of the street signs between our apartment and the mall. Note that the street name is in English as well as in Russian.

Another street sign with the name of Ernst Thalemann (leader of the German communist party before the Third Reich) Square written in Russian and English.



The mall with a statue of Ernst Thalemann outside.



Descending into the tunnel under Leningradsky Prospekt and leading to the Аэропорт Metro Station.



Small shops in the tunnel leading to the Metro station.



Metro entrance turnstiles with the ticket window behind them.



The platform at the Аэропорт Metro station. Note at this station you can see out of one train accross the platform and see the station sign on the opposite wall across the other set of tracks. Most stations are not open like this. Note also the blue arrows pointing to the two tracks, "1" (northbound) and "2" (southbound).



Nungesser in front of the Bolshoi Theater.



By the Resurrection Gate - ladies doeing whatthey do the world over, queuing up to go to the toilet.



The Resurrection Gate - the northern entrance to Red Square.



Nungesser back at Red Squre. Too bad it was closed for Constitution Day preparations.



The east side of Red Square - the GUM and a reviewing stand set up for Constitution Day.



Looking north across Manezhnaya Square with Tverskaya Street in the background. The Rolex advertising banner is concerling a huge retail construction site.



Nungesser with the coveted Stardogs sausage sandwich.



An ordinary snapshot of a Metro train interior.



Exit To City Sign on the Metro platform.



№ 2 Green Line sign on the Metro.



A "1" and "2" sign identifying the particular tracks of a Metro line running in oposite directions, not to be confused for a sign identifying a particular line of the Metro.



A corridor of the mall we fequented.



Another corridor of the mall and some of the stores.



The entrance to the grocery store in the mall. Notice the ubiquitous bag stowage lockers.



The food court at the mall. Note Sbarro at the very back.



In the window of a toy store at the mall. Who would have thought they'd have a toy Des Plaines, Illinois Crown Vic police cruiser for sale there. Schnooks, you've got to love this!



Nungesser and DW outside at the Moo Moo restaurant.



Looking across the Leningradsy Prospekt from the Moo Moo.



A large, recently built, residential building across Leningradsky Prospekt from the mall. It's styled after the seven sisters and some refer to it as th 8th sister.
If you're coming into Moscow Center from SVO II, you're about half way there when you se this building. You can't miss it.



Russia's version of Judge Wapner.



Watching a World Leauge fooltball game on Russian TV.



A typical Moscow bus stop near our apartment.



A closer look at what riders can buy at the bus stop.



While we were in Moscow the trees were shedding a cotton like substance. It fell and accumulated like snow.



Ashton Beau enjoying DW's company.



Another of DW and Ashton Beau.



DW and Aston Beau on Tverskaya Street with the State History Museum and Kremlin in the background.



Ashton Beau kicking Nungesser in the chin on Tverskaya Street.



DW enjoying an ice cream cone on Manezhnaya Square with the State History Museum in the background with Ashtion Beau and a few of the hundreds of police officers gathered in the square.



DW and Ashton Beau getting talking to a fellow passenger on the Metro.



Front desk of the pharmacy near our apartment. Note the display of some of their diapers above the shelf behind the desk.



Part of the baby goods section of the pharmacy.




More of the baby goods section of the pharmacy. Note, here you need to ask a saleswoman to unlock the glass door for you.



Ashton Beau wondering who is that little boy he sees!



Ashton Beau: "Hey! Who's sneaking up on my six!"