I left Heathrow on Sunday night, thereby missing the Biblical plague that Iceland has visited upon the world, arriving on Monday at 6.30am Moscow time, knackered and barely able to speak a word of Russian. Got on the elektrichka, a sort of suburban electric train that goes at about 30mph if you're very lucky. Elektrichka drivers have their own way of doing things, mostly based around opening and closing the doors for no apparent reason. This works best when done about 10 minutes before the departure time from the airport, leaving a gaggle of exhausted arrivals to stand there confused as the train then waits, doors shut, for another 15 minutes. Another rule of Russian trains is that they're never late. This is achieved by the simple method of setting the timetable so that the train can trundle along at walking pace. Never late, but not very useful either.
Eventually got to my flat after negotiating the Moscow metro in rush hour with a suitcase (not easy). And here it is, Bolshaya Pereyaslavskaya ulitsa 9:
This is actually its more attractive side. The reason it looks a bit manky is that it's pretty rare for tenants to team up to work on communal areas. I'm lucky since the stairwells are fairly pleasant, but it's not uncommon for nice flats to be surrounded by squalor.