20/01/20 "Just got back to the hotel after being an interpreter for an Icelandic woman trying to book an appointment at a salon. Rather tiring, I think I deserve a medal but I might just settle for a falafel wrap instead."
My second day off was on Sunday, and, after sleeping for most of Saturday I decided to make better use of this free time and carpe friggin' diem or whatever. I made it into hotel breakfast just before it closed at 11 and proudly recited my complicated room number in Russian to the maître d'. I was met with a short, accented English response: "harry ap, we closink in ten minewts". I raced through my usual, wrapped up warm and marched onto the streets of Minsk with two important sights on my to-see list: First, The National Library of Belarus, because how could I ever shy away from a famous example of soviet architecture? Second, Komarovka Market, a traditional indoor market selling everything from poultry to pickles, mixed spices to medicine and lottery tickets to loo roll. The day was grey and the temperature just cold enough for the tallest buildings to have been sprinkled with a dusting of snow, though on the ground, it had already started turning to slush.
I rode the metro to Усход, changing at my favourite station, Кастрычницкая/Купалайская, which features brightly lit yellow passageways and a grand staircase to connect its various platforms. It is the station where the red and blue lines intersect in the city, where X marks the spot on the metro map (see my special feature Minsk Is Gold for more metro pics). Upon arrival, I wandered 2 minutes down a shosse or highway to find the library, a hexagonal, sharp, pointy structure, which I would later discover in the taxi to my flight home, lights up at night like a disco ball.
After a few laps, nosing around inside and getting some photos, I decided to walk to Маскойская metro to head to the market. I passed a number of identical soviet apartment blocks with colourful mosaics of astronauts and Russian orthodox figures decorating their street-facing walls. Space and religion, an interesting mix.
I disembarked at Плошча Якуба Коласа and found my way to the market, passing many a huffing and puffing bag carrier, with their weekly shop bulging out of their arms as they paced homewards purposefully. The market was exactly as I'd hoped: local produce, handwritten signs and endless rows of babushkas, sitting with their matching visors and aprons on, ready to serve. I strolled around discreetly trying to get the hustle and bustle on camera, and admired the effort every woman had put into her quirky make up and hairstyles. You would never see a UK farm shop seller sporting sparkly blue eyeliner or sneaking off to top up her lipstick.
Eventually I tore myself away as it was time to meet Artyusha for a tour of the city...subscribers have enjoyed the rest of that tale already. (If you want in, go to the bottom of the homepage and join the mailing list). From Monday to Wednesday the weather continued to confuse me. One lunchtime it was sunny blue skies with a biting wind and by that afternoon a foggy snowstorm had hit and I couldn't bring myself to go outside. Tanya and I continued with our lessons as normal and planned a cultural excursion for our last afternoon together to add some variation to our robotic working rhythm. In one of our conversations, she explained that buying fake degrees is relatively commonplace and that she was looking forward to moving to England so she could buy and wear more ties. Yes, ties.
On Monday evening I decided to treat myself to a massage, since beauty treatments in Eastern Europe are far cheaper and far better than in London. After my appointment I overheard a woman struggling to book a hair appointment because the receptionist didn't speak English. It turned out that she was Icelandic and was in the city to watch her son play in an international football competition. Naturally I jumped at the opportunity to use my language skills and act as an interpreter. Not realising what I'd entered into, I spent the following 20 minutes explaining back and forth what the customer wanted and what the salon could offer. Eventually we reached an agreement and I just hope that the woman got the hairstyle she wanted because I'd feel slightly responsible if she left with a shocking lid. On my way home I decided to reward my efforts with a takeaway falafel wrap for dinner for a modest £2.85. To keep my baby warm and safe, I tucked her into my fur coat and jogged back to the hotel. Once in my room, I scoffed the poor thing, though not before dripping wrap juice all over the floor and covering my hands in tahini.
Food...
Komarovka Market - Don't be afraid of the crowds or the queues, just elbow your way through and try to look like you know what you're doing. The chances are you're at the right stall if lots of people are trying to get in there too.
My Dear Kebab - Nothing fancy, just quality shawarma and kebabage for cheap. Check their insta for some funny posts. They don't take themselves too seriously and so neither should you.
Architecture...
The National Library of Belarus - Apparently they do tours of the library and there are great views of the city from the roof but I didn't manage to do this and just had a look around myself.
Beauty...
Balmessence - Free tea/coffee on arrival, very good service, very affordable prices. Ideal!