Shangri la

Good news- I have found a much lessMacDonaldsy internet cafe, although it is not without it's curious Russian-ness. Named Shangri la (but as one word, which may yet be proved correct) it sits above Nevsky Prospect above an inconspicuous entrance way. Inside a stairway leads upwards and from the first landing you can step through a doorway into a slightly gloomy room filled with little computer terminals and a desk, behind which sits a man of varying desriptions, depending on the day of the week, who scarcely reacts to the polite requests of the young customers. The walls are a dark pink colour and the desks are blue, and there are three chilled drinks cabinets near the doorway. The walls are hung with erotic scetches of women, and the smell of perfume and sweat hangs in the air. It is indeed a curious place. I have taken a bit of a liking to it, and I expect to spend a few hours here over the next few weeks.
Now, let me divert your attention to the broader picture of Russian life. Since I left you last time I have been robbed. In broad daylight, outside a busy shopping centre. Under the noses of a security guard no less, not to mention several passers by. My bank card was simply snatched from me, while I was carrying out a very normal operation. Pursuit was, in this case, entirely unnecessary, as the perpetrator of the crime didn't run. In fact he didn't react at all. I have never seen thief so utterly unphased by such an outrageous breach of the law. But come now, let me elucidate. I was in the middle of trying to take money from an atm, and it simply took my card and switched off. Can you believe it. 'Occasionally doesn't work' it announces indifferently, much to my dismay. Well, actually it wasn't the great catastrophe it could have been, as I had a stash at home, and my travel card on the metro lasted for twice as long as I had thought. Still, it has meant careful spending, but in a couple of days I should once again be a little better off.
I have been exploring Petersburg a little, in some of my free time. I am looking into buying a fur-lined jacket for the colder months, and wandered through a market near Sennaya Ploschad after receiving a tip-off that such a thing existed. It is a curious little place. Little is not strictly accurate, as it is in fact quite large, but at any one time you can't see much of it because it's all up and down alleys and bad roads, in shadey corners and under awnings of larger buildings. The stalls are about four feet square, and absolutely covered in all types of fare, from leather jackets to tights to wallets to scarfs, and probably lots more that I didn't see. If you look even vaguely interested in buying something you will be actively encouraged (read manhandled) into the 'shop' and persuaded that this product is the best and cheapest on the market (or maybe in the market....) and it becomes a bit tricky to extricate yourself from the place without parting with money. There was, I recall, a scene in the Fast Show; 'Suit You Sir', which is something like close to a true parallel of this experience, but everything is less refined here. And somehow the people seem more desperate. At least that was my impression. Maybe it was the effect of such close proximity to each other- they all tried to 'have the edge', to clinch the deal by really going for it. Most people didn't seem too badly off, in comparison with many I have seen who clearly are; the people who stand outside churches with a humble cloth cap in their hand, dressed in threadbare clothes and often with a broken or missing limb.
If you wander away from the (few) affluent areas you very quickly see poverty manifested in many different ways. Tumble-down buildings, women (and the occasional man) standing on the side of the street with a bunch of herbs in their hands, or a pair of trainers, or, as I have seen quite a few times, loops and loops of necklaces wrpaped around their wrists. I was on the metro this morning and a man got on just in front of me, dressed in fairly simple clothes, with cropped short hair and only one shoe. This was less extraordinary than it sounds, as he had only one leg, and seems not too uncommon. He proceeded, however, to announce to everyone in the carriage, something about poor people with children, and apparently rebuking the passengers for their lack of help. I didn't get all of what he said, but the typically poker-faced and gloomy passengers didn't seem very affected by his words. I think the Russians, based on much broader experience, foster the opinion that you should look after number one. This is natural for everyone of course, but they really ruthlessly enact it, as far as I can see.
Today I met another friend from Sheffield, by chance, on a staircase in the Benedict School. He doesn't have a phone either, so is in a similar position to me in terms of communication. Somehow he had heard of my predicament concerning the card- clearly already there is a grape vine.....
And so life goes on. I previously had an ambition to open a jazz cafe here in the city, and have been assessing the pros and cons. It looks good so far, barring the obvious mafia problem which may well be exaggerated. Of course it's still quite hypothetical, but lets see where it goes..... I have to get on one of these boat trips around the city soon. Maybe Peterhof at the weekend. See how it goes.