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Based upon Google maps, it was supposed to take me 1:20 minutes to drive to Abramtsevo. Based upon the cars on the road, it took me 2 hours to get there. People and their families and their dogs and their furniture were on the road going to their vacation homes called “dachas”. I, well I wanted to visit an artist’s colony. Oh well. For my first time on Moscow roads I think I did well even though I was a bit paranoid someone would damage my side windows
Abramtsevo…nature…birds chirping…relaxation. I immediately went to the artist galleries. The art…ok. The homes…much nicer. I really really liked the small church. Designed similar to medieval churches, I sat to admire the curves, the color, and the softness. The three women guides, on the other hand, admired stiff silence. I could hear a pin drop as I took photo after photo. Silence ended as soon as I stepped outside like a pipe letting its steam slowly escape. I chuckled and went on.

The path continued. I past a 1 ½ story chicken coop reminding me of a kid’s playhouse. I continued on the path. Trees swayed in the wind. Bridges, with old planks, wheezed at my footsteps. Oh, the pond to my left. I explored. It looked so calm and peaceful and at peace with the gusts going through. I walked over quaint bridge after quaint bridge. Lovely.

I entered the artists’ studio. The vaunted ceilings reached so high. All wood. All nature’s colors. All consuming. The iron window coverings only enhanced the building. The intricately carved window awnings on the outside told the world of the building’s importance. The small side rooms enhanced the intimacy. The bathhouse close to it added to the wonderful ambience. Hand carved furniture balanced with soft porcelain. I sighed in pleasure when I saw the ceramic fireplace. Which angle was the best to photograph? Every angle…every stage. The guides knew they had a treasure in that fireplace and protected it fiercely. The painted tin roof made it even more fairy tale like along with the logs set to protect the inside with their fierce walls.

I left that quiet place for the regular life of a town. A stop at the local market and haggling without Russian brought another experience. On to Sergiev Posad, the religious center for the Russian Orthodox Church. A man let me into a parking lot when he spoke in Russian and I spoke in English. When I would I return? 3 or 4. I don’t know. Walking towards the entrance meant passing souvenir table after souvenir table. A man at the entrance directed me to buy a ticket to take photos. He stopped no one else…just the foreigner. Only foreigners have to buy tickets where Russians don’t. I smiled at the irony and paid.

Unfortunately, most of it is being renovated. The stores were open and so was the brisk business. I did see a long line of people going into one chapel. I guessed it to be the most spiritual place. I didn’t stand in line. Instead, I watched people after people filling bottle after bottle of Sergiev Posad’s holy water; from small to large sizes. This is the only place I have seen water being taken. What did I drink? I drank “Kvass” made from fermented rye bread. I had no idea what it was but tried it anyway; brown in color with a nice sweet finish. 33 cent drink gone in 33 seconds. Yummy!!! I loved it over all the other goodies I snacked on that day. I wanted more but decided to try another snack instead with coconuts. Nowhere near as good as Kvass. Loved it!

I had to have that good feeling when the parking attendant gestured I was to give him some money for letting park in his lot. Oh well. It was close to the holy area. Then on my way back home with wonderful Moscow traffic…
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