Flying on an Antonov An-24

I had a relaxing Saturday morning; my mission is completed, just waiting for the plane back home.

I’m flying out of Murmansk on an Antonov An-24.This classical Soviet propeller aircraft was constructed by the famous engineer Oleg Antonov in the 1950s. From 1960 to 1978, more than thousand AN-24s have been assembled in the factory in Ukraine, for both public transport and military purposes.

I was left alone in Murmansk last night, when my Russian colleague went back to Moscow. This morning, I put my suitcase in the storage room, and took for a walk outside. The streets were quiet and empty, just a few old Russian cars and buses passing by. It's very different from Moscow, with it's modern buildings and abundance of German luxury cars. Murmansk still gives a Soviet feel, except that the Marx and Lenin posters are replaced by commercials. It was a nice and sunny morning, and it's the middle of July. It's supposed to be summer, but still it was pretty chill outside. No more than 10-15 degrees (50-60 Fahrenheit), too cold with just a T-shirt and a thin jacket.

Coming back from my short walk, I found a coach in the lobby, and sat down to read and write, and to do some people watching, interesting as always. Two German women went up to the reception and asked for a map with the sights of the city. The receptionist was apparently surprised, and had nothing to offer. I was surprised too. There's not much of interest to see. It's the huge Alyosha statue, the cranes on the harbor, the former Soviet navy base in Severomorsk, and the midnight sun. People go fishing and hunting on the Kola Peninsula, but nobody go to Murmansk for vacation.

The driver picked me up outside the hotel at noon, to take me to the airport. I'm trying a different route this time, going straight west, across the border, and then continuing on a domestic flights. It's the shortest distance, but not necessarily the shortest time. It's not easy to find effective transportation between the remote places in the north, and Saturday is not a good day for traveling. There are not many flights to choose from.


The international departure on the Murmansk airport was like a small cupboard. They don't have many international flights, possibly only this one. Security, check-in and passport control was smooth and easy. There were no more than 10-15 passengers on the flight. I like the lazy atmosphere of the small airports in the north.

An old yellow truck was tanking the plane when we boarded, climbing a short and narrow ladder. The engines started to bark, propellers gaining speed, and we were ready for take of. The plane was as noisy as a punk band, and shaking like a hard-rock drill. But, what the Hell, it was cool to fly on an Antonov.


It was a two-hour flight, above endless forests and lakes in the east, and fjords between rugged snow-capped mountains in the west. Half-way the cute stewardess served a decent lunch, a salami sandwich with vodka and wine, but I stayed with tea and orange juice today.

Yesterday, when we had completed our business tasks, there was a celebration. We had some snacks and drinks in the general director’s office, whiskey with ice, Oran single malt. I don't like that stuff very much (prefer beer). Anyway, there were a lot of toasts, as usual, and they proposed a toast to my great braveness, because I was flying on the Antonov to get back home >:D

(That's our Antonov, ready for bording. Beautiful plane, isn't it? I took the picture at the top on the short walk across the runway. I shot a few pictures through the window of the plane as well. That tank-like thing in the upper part of the pitures is the engine.)

Dostoyevsky City

I'm on the way to Murmansk again. I'm taking a different and shorter route this time. No need to fly via Moscow when I have nothing there to do. Today I'm traveling alone all the way, without my Russian colleague. It's somewhat more difficult, I'll admit, to get from the international terminal to the domestic terminal,by bus, finding the right check-in desk, getting through the security. Some language problems, but I made it, by a mix of English and body language, and the five Russian phrases I know.

Right now I'm in transit in this fabulous city, built by Peter the Great in the 18th century, on the swamps by the Finnish Bay. It was the capital of Russia for 200 years, untill the last Tsar, and his family, were killed by the communists in 1917. The city has been known by several names, Petrograd,Leningrad, and now, St Petersburg. I call it Dostoyevsky City.

The first time I was here was in 1990, at the dawn of the Soviet Empire. I got to see all the major sights; the Winter Palace, St Isaac's Cathedral, the Russian Museum, with the famous paintings by Ilya Repin (Ivan the Terrible Kills his Son, Barge Haulers on the Volga), the Dostoyevsky Museum, and Nevsky Prospect. The latter is the main street, where Raskolnikov was walking in his anguish and pain after killing the money lender (Crime and Punishment).

The Dostoyevsky Museum is in Kuznechny Street. It's in his apartment where he lived, a major part of his life, except when he was in prison in Siberia, or forced to serve as a soldier in the Army. It's the place where he wrote many of his great works. Very interesting to see, for a Dostoyevksy fans, and worth a visit if you come to St Petersburg.

Today I'm only in transit for a couple of hours. My plane to Murmansk is departing in 45 minutes. I hope I get the chance to visit this city again soon. Like Moscow, St Petersburg has changed alot in the last 20 years.

The only remnant of the Soviet era is the airport code, which is still LED, for Leningrad >:)

(It's St Petersburg in the background. I took the picture right before landing at the Pulkova Airport, after fasten seat belt signs were on. Not allowed, but I just switched my camera on for a couple of seconds.)

How to eat caviar

Murmansk has one of the worlds richest food sources at the door step. The arctic waters are cold and sometimes hostile, but full of fish, shrimps and crabs. And then there is the salomon and the sea trout, commuting between the sea and the great rivers of the Kola Peninsula.

No wonder; the food in Murmansk is excellent, if you choose from the sea-food side of the menu. A good Russian beer makes the meal complete, for instance Sibirskaya Korona or Baltika No 8.

When I was in Murmansk last week, my Russian colleague gave me a big jar of Russian caviar

"Gift for you; local caviar."

Great. I appreciated this very much. A big jar of fresh Russian caviar; coarse orange fish eggs, each one is the size of a decent pearl.

But now I have this challenge; I have to eat all the caviar before it gets contaminated. I've tried a few varieties, all of them tasting very good:

o Bread with butter and a thick layer of caviar, and a touch of mayonnaise (for breakfast).
o Boiled egg with caviar (for lunch).
o Gratinated salomon with potatoes and caviar topping (for dinner).

What else? Does anyone out there have some good recipes involving caviar?

(That's my jar of caviar, and my breakfast, shot with the cell phone camera; bread with butter, caviar and mayonnaise.)

Biscuit poker

It’s school’s summer vacation, but parents are still at work, at least we are.

Therefore, little boy spent a week in our family cabin in the mountains, with his grand parents. This weekend we drove up to the mountains, to pick him up and bring him back to town.

When I met him, I asked if he had a good time.

"Yes, we've been on long hikes in the mountains. I found a reindeer antler, and carried it myself, for two hours, back to the cabin."
"Good. We can keep it here, right? We don't need to bring it home?"

And then it was all the regular stuff about fishing, bow shooting, rowing on the lake, rock climbing, tree climbing, making a slingshot from a birch branch, and so on.

Finally, he said:

"Grandpa taught me how to play poker."
"Great. You’re 10 yo, so it’s about time you learn it."
"We only played with biscuits."
"Did you win?"
"I got all the biscuits in the end."

Grandpa’s summer camp is always a cool place to be >:)

(In the picture is little boy climbing an old pine tree outside the cabin. The pines are 2-300 years old and grow very slowly in the mountain climate. I climbed the same trees many years ago, and still do, sometimes.)

Four hours in a five-star bed

My mission in Murmansk is completed. Goodbye to the light summer nights and the midnight sun, at least for now (I might be back next week).

Today was a good day, and everything was as we hoped. We worked till 6 o'clock, and then went to a German bier stube to eat and celebrate.

Good food, good beer, and there was vodka of course. This is Russia. I only had a very very small amount, just tasting, to be polite. I'm here to work, not to get drunk.

Before we left Murmansk,my Russian colleague gave me a big box of local caviar, salomon caviar from the Kola Peninsula. I really appreciate that.

We took a late plane back to Moscow, and arrived half an hour past midnight. The driver was waiting for me, to take me to the hotel. We got stuck in traffic jam, car accident, road work, more road work, another accident.

Moscow never sleeps. This city is crazy!

I came to the hotel at 3 am. It's a great five-star Marriot hotel. It's a pity that I won't get the time to enjoy it. I have to get up at 7 to make it to our next appointment.

Time to go to bed. Then I get four hours in my five-star bed >:)

(A German bier stube in Russia. The sign on the wall says "guten morgen" in Cyrillic letters. It's German for good morning.)

Words words words and letters

I’ve been sleeping my way through this morning. Tired and confused, I just woke up on a domestic flight half-way between Moscow and Murmansk.

(Eating oyster till 2am isn’t wise when you have get up at 5 to catch an early plane, but who can resist when it’s ready and served?)

I grabbed the Aeroflot magazine from the seat pocket in front of me, just scanning through it, looking at the pictures. I don’t understand Russian, unfortunately. Long time ago I wanted to learn it, to read Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky in Russian. I gave it up. It’s too damn hard.

I got as far as to learn the Cyrillic alphabet. That’s easy, and it’s convenient to be able to read signs with street names and stuff like that. There are all these s-like letters (pronounced sh- and ch- and tch- and ts- and so on) that I never get control on. Bit except from that, the Cyrillic alphabet is basically a mix of the Latin and the Greek (I know the Greek letters because they are frequently used as mathematical symbols, pi and phi and delta and so on).

The English dictionaries (Webster and Oxford unabridged) are big, no doubt, but the Russian dictionaries are even bigger. Rich languages, with lots of synonyms and many words of slightly different meanings, give big dictionaries. The Nordic languages are simple in comparison; few words and easy grammar (some local dialects are exceptions).

The number of letters in each word is another issue. Right in front of me I have this sign which says, in Russian and in English:

“Fasten seat belt while seated”
“Life vest under your seat”

I suppose it’s the same meaning, in both languages. Counting the total number of letters, I find:

English version: 25+21=46 letters
Russian version: 43+44=87 letters

No wonder the Russian dictionaries become big

(In the picture above you can check my figures. I took it using myu cell phone, in flight mode of course. Sorry about the poor picture quality.)