Mother Russia drew us to her bosom. we had left the airport VIP lounge and stepped into a stately 50's limo, which probably had bullet proof windows and a little flag on the bonnet.

The road we entered Moscow on seemed endless - straight as a Russian engineer, schooled in advanced mathematics - past high rise housing blocks, pylons and cranes. Enveloped in the night, we peered from the sleek black shark, with the radio playing the latest guns 'n' Roses, Michael Bolton, Madonna and, thankfully, a super ditty from Paul McCartney, singing something about his great face. Out of the greyness, a pot hole snared us in red Square, the shark cut out and, with a touch of the old "start her up in reverse" and a hint of first gear, we eventually got moving again.

We arrived at the Russia Hotel, the biggest (not the best) hotel in Moscow. Police loitered in the car park carrying mean looking torches. I was surprised to see American looking cars parked outside - a couple of Cadillacs and a Pontiac - but, on closer inspection all the tyres were flat. it looked like they'd been bought years back, and parked to impress the tourists. We entered the Russia Hotel, and all eyes fell heavily on the duty free bags. We seemed to be in the wrong reception. A kindly fur hat directed us to the East Wing; it seems there are two prices for guests - two roubles a month for Russians, and a hundred dollars a day for the tourists. After some time spent handing in passports, money and brains, i got my room key. I entered my room. Out of the dim light a cockroach leapt at my throat, threw me to the floor and wrestled with my wallet. He tugged at my dollars - I screamed for help, and thank god Mike (the all seeing one) was just passing. he ran in , shouting, and the cockroach took flight, scampering behind the washbasin...

We flash forward to the next morning where we find ourselves assembled in the lobby. there we meet nicky, who is a journalist for two Moscow newspapers (sponsorship comes from a most surprising source). it's a funny old world, and we thought it was changing. Well, goodbye Mikhail, and hello Boris. Nicky tells us that the two top floors of the hotel have been taken over by the mafia who run most of the cigarette kiosks in the hotel. they sell packets of Marlboro for 200 roubles and firebomb the ordinary citizens if they undercut the prices that the mafia set. Welcome to the free market...

While in Moscow, we were filming a Madness documentary and doing a live satellite broadcast to "Top Of The Pops" in London, Blighty. it seems to have been a success. Oh, the wonders of modern technology!!! The documentary was interesting to do as it took us around Moscow and we saw quite a bit of the city. the markets were full of Russian dolls, watches and rabbit fur hats, and of course, the Russian aviator watches. The going price for most things is five dollars. the people are desperate to get hard currency, as there are loads of hard currency shops which are the only places to get Western goods. It was sad to find out that loads of people go to these shops with empty carrier bags and no dollars, and they just walk around looking at stuff they are unable to buy. You see, the average wage in Russia is about �25 a month. It is very tough out there. The people are open and friendly, but they all seem to be worried about what's going to happen in the future. We felt it would definitely be a good thing to go back and do a concert. well, that's all folks.