And so it is that we must bid fare-thee-well to the American and the English girls who have played such a vital role in keeping me sane these past few weeks. Although our days together were few and we could have met in January had the people of our fine city been more thoughtful (I mean, who keeps knowledge of two other English speaking people to themselves? Only in Tyumen, dear readers, only in Tyumen) we have shared so much – vodka, football, beer, cynical rants about our host country and standards of hygiene in same country, innuendos, humour not understood by the Russians, pizzas.... the list goes on, but not for much longer cos there's not much else that we've done – apart from go to the market. So, off they go on their adventure to Vladivostok, armed with only the strongest insect repellent that roubles can buy, and a bottle of vodka between them to share with their potentially homicidal cabin buddies.... oK so I'm being a bit romantic, in actual fact it's been very difficult for them to purchase the tickets to even get to Vladivostok, with the Russians pulling their familiar trump card of 'ah ha you want something? We're going to make you suffer and show you're really worthy of it by means of a number of trials in which we'll push you to the brink of despair'. So off they will ride into the mystical Eastern lands of Baikal and beyond, as Tyumen fades into the distance and likewise into the deep confines of their memories. It'll be a case of 'Tyumen? Huh? What? Oh, Tyumen, I remember the snow, the mud, the midgies and the dog meat.... it seems like a lifetime ago now kids, but I'll never forget that wise, lonesome English teacher who always carried a copy of Being and Nothingness under her arm, ready to quote Keats and Shakespeare, especially after a few shots of the old 'diaphanous venom' (that's my new name for vodka)'.... ah, the romance of Russia, it does strange things to the mind. But, as with all departures, there are those who get left behind and as we run after their train shouting 'take me with you', I and my two remaining English speaking buddies ('the grown-ups' we call them – no rants and beer for me any more) will be sad to see the two people from our company who were most proficient in the Russian language go. So if you've got a drink in your hand, propose a toast to adventure and English speaking people let loose in the wilds of the Russian countryside, and if you haven't got a drink in your hand, well go and get one you fool, but don't spill it on the computer.