Since we didn’t have any breakfast plans, we didn’t rush out of bed at 8am on Tuesday morning. We leisurely woke up about 10am and took an hour or so to get out of the hotel.

Our plan for the day was visiting Red Square, GUM and the Kremlin. We walked over the bridge into Red Square, stopping to take photos of one of the “seven sisters” on the way (I’m not sure which one – the one to the east when you’re standing on the bridge in the middle of the Moskva river – possibly Kotelnicheskaya Naberezhnaya).

We sat on the grass bank next to the Kremlin wall, under Tsar’s Tower (just below Saviour/Spasskaya Tower), to marvel at St Basil’s Cathedral. They’re in the middle of repainting bits of the outside and it made us wonder how it looked when it was first built: whether the colours were so vivid and if so, how was that achieved. Some of the domes looked to be ceramic in texture – well, they actually look plastic but I guess that’s not the case – but whatever colour it was when it started, it’s a pretty amazing piece of architecture considering it is nearly 500 years old. It’s curvy shapes and petite size were a lovely contrast to the similarly amazing (but in a completely different way) Stalinist skyscraper that we had been staring at moments earlier. My only regret was that it was a bit cloudy and that seemed to dull the colours of the domes slightly: in my imagination, they had been so vibrant they were practically glowing. I bet for most people that saw it 500 years ago – in a world without blue jeans and neon Samsung signs – the colours looked unworldly.

After sitting there for a while, we walked up through Red Square, wondering why large sections were shut off (after seeing it again the next day, we guessed it must be something to do with Lenin’s mausoleum – to keep crowds away when the mausoleum is open to allow for security checks/screening). We then walked up the side of GUM and had a quick look inside the centre. Again, my imagination had been making up its own stories: in my mind, a department store built at the turn of the century conjures up images of a dark, or at least artificial lit place with high ceilings but almost claustrophic at the same time because it’s so big that you can’t see the way out (eg, the now closed Alders store in Leeds or the incredibly old-fashion Broadbents and Boothroyds in Southport). I could not have been more wrong. GUM, which was the state department store during the communist regime, is wonderfully light and airy: arranged in clearly defined rows, with just balconies (and the odd bridge) for the upper floors, topped off a clear glass ceiling. It was built in the 1890s so is a pleasant mix of Eastern European gothic architecture and the Victorian glass and steel we see lots of over here: London Victoria train station meets the main Galleries Layfette store in Paris meets Our Lady before Tyn Cathedral in Prague.

But the best thing about the GUM for me was the cows. Yes, the cows. The Cow Parade was in town and the centre was housing at least a dozen decorated cow sculpture. My favourites were the cow with audio speakers for spots and the one that was being carried away by balloons. Katherine’s mum and dad had seen them in Prague last year and now we had spotted them in Moscow – it looks like everyone Wellsy knows will see them before she, the cow-fan, does :)

After I had got my fill of bovine thrills, we decided to get something to eat. I had spotted a nice cafe bar that looked out onto Red Square, with outside tables. By then though, it was started to rain off and on so we took a table inside. The cafe bar, Bosco Bar, was mentioned in my guide book as being pretty decent and it didn’t disappoint: with our slice-of-cheese-strudel, garlic/herb olives and lovely bread rolls as appetisers, we had veggie starters (I had veg tempura and John had stuffed aubergine rolls) but then I went onto eat meat again in the form of duck breast with balsamic dressing and ratatouille (it was delicious). John had apple and taggelio (taglio? I can’t find a set spelling for it) cheese risotto and with pretty cone of melted then styled parmesan (he said the risotto was nice but a little too cheesy). The bar itself was cool: 1970s retro wonder, with lots of brown and orange strips and a fab martini-glass-style sculpture/light above the central counter. We were sat on some big plastic bubble chairs (which I found surprisingly comfortable but John didn’t like) but afterwards I noticed that one table had a swing for a seat – and if we ever go back, I’m sitting there :). Fitting in with the styling, all the waiters looked about 17 and like they would grow up to be male models. And despite all of the swishy interior design, the yummy food and the fact it was in GUM facing Lenin on Red Square, it wasn’t actually that expensive (not cheap but not *that* expensive). We didn’t know it at the time but the lunch would fill us up all day and we would just eat cake for supper – so it felt even better value when we didn’t have to pay for another meal that day. The only negative thing I would say about Bosco is that the toilets weren’t especially clean: yummy styles but with pee splashes and tissue/paper towels on the floor etc. They are unisex (or, I went in the boys :) ) so maybe all public toilets in the presence of males are like that but I wasn’t used to it.

After lunch, we walked around to the other side of the Kremlin, via the World War II monuments in the Alexandrovsky Gardens. We left John’s bag at the cloakroom in the side of the Kutafia Tower and then went to the booth near the entrance to the Kremlin to buy our tickets. I was amused to spot that out of the trio in front of us, one had a Leeds Met University card and another had a Calderdale NHS card (I was even more amused when we saw them again in St Petersburg a few days later). The tickets for the Kremlin cost 300roubles each (circa £6) plus another 50roubles (£1) for a photo permit. I thought this was pretty good value since it is, I would say, the biggest tourist attraction in Moscow and included entry to all of the public areas inside the Kremlin aside from the Armoury and the State Diamond Fund.

The buildings inside the Kremlin walls are a strange mix of styles. After you’ve gone through the turnstiles and crossed Trinity bridge into the Kremlin itself, the Palace of Congresses (State Palace?) looms on the right like the big dull post-war building that it is – I’m glad it was built 15m into the ground to stop it dwarfing the other buildings because it’s already a bit bigger than I would like. Smoked glass, mmm. Between that and the wide but mostly empty roads surrounding it, you feel like you’re on a technology park on the outskirts of a “new town” rather than in a World Heritage Site. A glimpse to the left, and the Napoleonic cannons stacked against the Arsenal reawaken our sense of “ooh cool”, and then, when you turn the corner to the right past the Palace of Congresses and see the numerous domes of all the cathedrals, it feels worth the 300roubles again.

We walked past the Tsar’s Cannon and the Tsar Bell, and felt like midgets, then we entered Sobornaya Ploschad between the Ivan the Great Belltower and the unimpressive (in comparison to the others) Cathedral of the Archangel Michael. We sat on a low wall to read about the different cathedrals before going into the biggest one, Cathedral of the Assumption (aka, Cathedral of the Dormition or Uspensky Sobor). It was quite busy inside but when you’re just looking up, who cares about the people on the ground? Inside, the cathedral was considerably more ornate than I had imagined – it was completely covered in paintings and frescos from floor to ceiling (and what a high ceiling) – but was started to look almost scruffy because of the age of the art. The strangest thing was the fact there was a souvenir stall inside the cathedral – and they weren’t even particularly tasteful or related souvenirs. I nearly bought snowdome just because the idea seemed so bizarre.

After that, we went into the Church of the Deposition of the Robe (which was TINY but had the smoothest floor in the chapel) and the fractionally bigger Cathedral of the Annunciation. Both were as elaborate as ‘Assumption and that surprised me as much as the petite dimensions. I’ve only been in a few cathedrals in my life (Liverpool’s Anglican cathedral, Durham cathedral and Basilica di San Marco in Venice) but they have all been far plainer (without being especially austere) and far, far bigger. Each religious building in the Kremlin seemed to be for a particular purpose and for a very select group of worshippers so I guess they didn’t need to make them any bigger. Still, one less gold dome and they could have got a spacious conservatory, complete with wicker furniture and a wind chime, put on the back of each one – which, you know, would have been nice in the summer.

We then strolled down to the Armoury but since we didn’t have tickets we didn’t try to go in. Instead, we about-turned and walked up to go into the public part of the Secret Garden – until one of the whistle-loving policemen stopped us: it was nearly 5pm so it was time to go. While the novelty of wandering in a small wood in the middle of a huge, industrial city would be fun, I didn’t feel that we really missed anything by having to leave then.

We collected John’s bag from the cloakroom and while we were sat on the grass repacking things into it, a couple of policemen stopped us to, we guess, ask a direction or something. John asked if they spoke English and they smiled in a “oh, nevermind, we thought you were local” way and then left. We walked through the southern part of the gardens alongside the Kremlin’s western wall to the Kamenny bridge over the river and then from there along the river to the hotel.

We relaxed for a couple of hours, enjoying the lovely big bath and limitless hot water and read our books. We thought about heading out to the first restaurant we tried the day before (we were now clearly experts in dealing with menus in Russian, even though we hadn’t really used any) but neither of us felt like eating. At about 9pm, we decided we couldn’t handle a full meal that even but a light snack would suffice. A light cake shaped snack in the “Berlin-style” coffee and cake shop in the hotel to be exact.

After finding out that my first selection (a chocolate truffle cake) contained rum, I went for the chocolate mousse cake option with a cup of hot chocolate (as opposed to drinking chocolate – I assumed from the Russian spelling that the latter was cocoa so the former would be sweeter). John went for apple cake with coffee and yet again cursed the fact that his coffee-style of choice is known as an “americana” so he looks like a silly yankee every time he asks for it. The cakes arrived first and we tucked in with relish (metaphorical not literal, because that would be wrong). Then the drinks arrived and I realised my assumption about the hot chocolate was not really correct. The drinking chocolate *was* cocoa, I had been right about that, but I had been wrong about mine: it was, literally, hot chocolate, melted down into a cup. Perhaps a little bit of cream had been added during the melting process but aside from that, it was like a Green and Black’s chocolate bar that had been sat in the sunshine all day. It was too sickly even for me to drink quickly. Actually, I don’t think “drink” is the correct verb to use anyway: I think “chew” would be more appropriate. In case this in any way sounds like I didn’t enjoy it, don’t get me wrong – it was the BEST hot chocolate I have ever had – but it’s not exactly an everyday beverage.

After we had filled up on sugary goodness, we went to the lobby bar for a more refreshing drink. The cheesy pianist and vocalist combo in the upstairs part of the bar was a bit too cliched for us so we sat in the ground floor area instead. We sat near the lifts which gave us a wonderful view of the business men coming back to the hotel with their hookers. One guy had a girl on each arm. He must be a really great guy to have two women accepting money in order to spend time with him. He looked delighted at his success (or maybe he was just drunk).

Eventually we got tired and headed up to bed before midnight. The bed hadn’t got any less comfortable overnight – hurrah!