Kamianets
Using this swing might hurt...
Soviet era structure
Train conversations
One of those intense experiences that stamp itself into your subconscious and then comes back years later triggered perhaps by a whiff of coal or the smell of icy cold, are the sensations of arriving in a strange town in the small hours of the morning, being launched from a warm semi-comfortable compartment with its intimate conversation of strangers out into the wordless stampede and brutal cold of the platform at an inhuman hour. The smell of coal from the wagon heaters and the rush along the ice heaving unwieldy bags that refuse to roll through the snow. As a stranger trying to look like one knows where one is heading, head down among the crowd, avoiding being conspicuous, and wondering what to do until it is light enough to get to wherever you are aiming for.
Soviet relic - my Russia
The remnants of the Soviet era are still around, but becoming thinner on the ground all the time, certainly in city centres. But you don't have to go far before they peak out of yards or roads in villages. The ravages of winter accelerate rust and decay, and they were never built to last in the first place. No doubt some will be preserved, like the Trabants that proudly scutter around eastern Germany. Part of me is sad to see part of the old Russia that I knew disappearing. This was my Russia. The less selfish part of me thinks - good riddance.
