December 22, 2005

“…Renewal and relaxation in a warm, welcoming spot far from the madding crowd are what I most crave right now. Wherever the trade winds blow us, I expect to write about it upon our return.”

The road from intention to completion can be long and tortuous.  

With those words, last year’s letter came to a close, with as yet incomplete travel plans and unknown adventure beckoning. Tickets safely secured, and with the family begrudgingly acquiescing to a “preponed” Christmas goose , and presents on the eve of December 23^rd, nothing stood in the way of our boarding a Bangkok-bound night flight on Christmas Eve. I still shudder to think that if I had obtained the tickets I requested for an earlier date, the Asian Tsunami would probably have found us comfortably ensconced in beachside accommodation when it struck shore in Thailand less than 2 days later. Sorry to have put so many of you through hell while we basked in oblivion.

Spared, we left Bangkok’s bright lights for the eastern Thai island of Koh Chang, but were enticed away to Cambodia’s western border, where after sundry hair-raising escapades, we found well-deserved refuge in Phnom Penh. Several days and a speedboat ride later, we were exploring Angkor and its ancient wats from Siem Reap, and with the help of a willing local contact, Jared finally found a tailor to turn some of his fashion collection dreams into reality. Very edifying, but in my view, Vietnam remains peerless in that region.

We returned to a Moscow that couldn't have been a greater contrast. Record-worthy amounts of snow were dumped on the city in January, obscuring all views from the rooms on the upper floor of our duplex and putting the shovel that had languished for months on the balcony to good use.
Before things could get boring, I was offered a decorating commission, equipping a newly opened West African Embassy in Moscow. It was somewhat more laborious than I would have liked, but what would life be without a few challenges?

Asia was most definitely a leitmotif in terms of travel, and when March came around, I was once more on the continent, exploring Hong Kong with the brood for 5 days. I was struck by the diversity- the concrete and the greenery, the old and the new, the innovative and the traditional – but also by the paucity of English-speaking locals on the roads less travelled (where else would I be?).

By far the most awe-inspiring excursion was to Olkhon Island in mysterious Lake Baikal. A six-hour cross-country trek by 4x4 from Irkutsk through the ever-changing Siberian landscape delivered us to the lake’s frozen shore, where, on 1.5m thick, partially transparent ice, and under blindingly brilliant sunshine, the vehicle traversed the 7 km of officially demarcated roadway to the tip of the island. One and a half metres of crystalline ice on the surface, (only) 40 to 50 metres of dark, icy water below at that point (its depth reaches 1.2km) – to say that it was unsettling would be to underplay the intensity of my feeling. Oddly, I felt much more comfortable sitting in the 2-tonne vehicle than standing in direct contact with the ice. Bizarre! An air of mysticism and mystery hung about that great expanse of land and ice and the deafening silence was almost palpable.

Berlin to coach mobility management in April, participation in the organization of the first African Women’s Bazaar in Moscow, trips to St Petersburg in May and June, and a train trek to Kazan, in Tatarstan, followed that; before I knew it, it was time to take leave of much-loved Russia. Send-offs succeeded farewell parties, and after a final foray into the ancient towns of Yaroslavl and Vologda, north east of Moscow, the removal company packaged our home (I caught a pilferer in flagrante) into 614 crates and boxes and shifted them to Berlin, arriving as school opened on August 8th. Moscow withdrawal pangs were temporarily assuaged at month’s end by attendance of a glamorous business ball in Russia’s imposing Berlin embassy.

Boxes dispatched to the recycling yard, and their contents unpacked and  'absorbed' into our old-new home, I escaped to Paris in September to meet my newest niece and recuperate from palpitations brought on by uninterrupted proximity to the male members of my family, who, sadly, have yet to learn the use or usefulness of tools and technology. That, and the three months it took “professionals” to renovate a 7m²  bathroom.

Paris didn't fully do the trick, so with over two weeks of fall vacation to fill, Kyra and I headed for Accra for a visit with my parents in October. Kyra attended school and came away with a kindled sense of academic empowerment. I relaxed and successfully, if temporarily, obliterated my German existence from my mind.

The children have settled perfectly - their transition was uncannily seamless. Russian remains an integral part of their lives through piano lessons, administered twice weekly in the language by an eminently competent and effective instructress.

In the interest of brevity, I have given short shrift to a number of events or omitted them completely. Do follow the links for details (when/if they appear- at some later date) or let some pictures tell the proverbial thousand words. On that note, I wish you and yours moments of calm and collection in the closing days of the year, holidays filled with cheer, and grace, gumption, glory and gaiety in 2006!

As ever,

Gladys

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