Shit Suddenly Smells Sweeter.

I went to Russia this week. Yeah, it's not exactly something you do casually, it was a school trip ok? And yes I go to school. Jeez I'm such a pussy.

The expectations of Russia tend to be bearskin hats, cold weather and patriotism. Most will still persistently believe this despite it being a painfully Americanised view in which any other country with nuclear weapons clearly has to be an apocalyptic, dead place which is so totalitarian and cruel it wakes up its citizens every morning with a beating and has all-day radio broadcasts looping the phrase 'YOU ARE SHIT' . And because I'm such a brainwashed sod I went there already half-expecting these things. What actually met me there was certainly something close to a polar opposite, but surprisingly it wasn't a good thing at all. 

Russia isn't an oppressive country - well, apart from to photographers, as they seem to think over there that should you take a picture inside a church you are KILLING GOD - but it is, without a doubt, shit. We on this blog spend our time moaning and groaning about England as if it's the worst thing since Piers Morgan's head boiled and served by a Liberian prostitute, but as it happens it really is sugar and rainbows compared to Mother Russia. You think British people moan? Try bumping into a Russian woman. She'll scream at you. Try telling her you don't speak Russian, and she'll scream louder. You think English cities are tacky and grimy? Moscow might as well be the world's biggest landfill site. And by no means be mistaken that Russians love their country. I've never seen so many bored and hateful people in my life than I did in what remains of the USSR, and even our tour guide started our visit with the sentence, 'I hope you're prepared for Moscow, because it is... terrible...'. After my three day stay in the capital and being surrounded by the jungle of abandoned, smashed up old buildings and virtually drowned in cigarette smoke and industrial smog, I'm going to have to agree with her. 

Flying back over Brittania, which I usually find to be an experience more depressing than reading the Bible, I couldn't help notice the fact that it pretty much radiates happiness in comparison. Yeah, the staff at the airport glared back at me and everyone in London still looked like they were about to blow their brains out, but at least they didn't seem to be about to take their whole country with them. We might be the bastards that created Charlie Bit My Finger and the Jeremy Kyle Show, but God bless us. I guess.