A concert and an overnight train journey

Excitement  was mounting in the auditorium. The first three rows or so were taken by the organised group of Brunettes and they were clutching the little flags which combined the symbols of St.Petersburg and Quebec. There were banners, rolled up, waiting to be unfurled.  Other resources were stored in bags between the rows of seats. Sitting between Iraida  and Dasha,as I was, I became the repository of all their needs, well their flags and roses at least. The atmosphere was palpable. I really think I should have one of all the Brunettes to describe the concert itself, but sadly I haven't.  

The concert was due to begin at 7.00 pm, and it wasn't long after that that the house lights dimmed, to an enormous whoop/scream of delight.

You don't normally do much whooping and screaming do you?

No, that's true, and I wasn't about to start now. There might be the odd, manly "Yes!" or an occasional "Bravo! ", or a very rare "Woohoo,  but I am not a one for whooping and screaming. Having said that, I suppose there's  not too much difference between a "whoop" and a "woohoo", but screaming is definitely out. The nearest thing to a scream in recent times was last Saturday in the hotel in Volgograd.

Really?

I'll leave that for a future posting.

Really?

Really!
So the lights in the auditorium  dimmed, there was an enormous whoop/scream from the vast majority of the audience, and one by one Bruno's band of musicians  came out on to the stage, followed by the man himself.

So, while there was all this whooping and screaming going on, what were you doing?

I was clapping as well as I could with three flags and two bouquets of white roses in my hands, and observing the delight of my young friends as their hero arrived on stage. There was the delighted  clasping of my hands, sharing the joy of the moment with me  - it was a real privilege for me, the bearded old Englishman, to be a part of all this, and I was really enjoying it.

Bruno's performance  was full of energy, and he seemed to cover every inch of the stage as he went through the set-list. After almost every song, from first to last, bouquets of flowers were brought to the stage, where he gratefully accepted each one, to the obvious delight of the donors. It was well done, with various groups of the Brunettes going to the stage with their white roses after different songs. In addition there were other bouquets from fans not in the organised group, and by the time the show ended, after a non-stop performance of almost three hours, there were enough bouquets to stock a florist's  shop for a week.

It is very difficult to chose favourites from the set-list, but  "Le Temps des Cathedrales "  and "Lune", will always be on my list of favourites. I don't  want to fall into the trap of simply listing all of the songs, as I might have done before with Luce Dufault shows but I have to mention one song which really impressed me - it was "Don't  Give Up!" by Peter Gabriel. It has always been a favourite song of mine, bringing together Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush. Bruno  and his keyboard player  performed it beautifully. By the following evening I was waiting for it, and adopting it as my theme tune.

After the performance I became part of a select group to be allowed to meet M.Pelletier.  Satanic Postman  - ahhh, how about that for a superb predictive texting folly. I typed Tatanie Pisman and it turned it into Satanic Postman! Tatanie Pisman was in charge of this element of the evening, which should have been for a very small number of fans. To try and stop those intent on meeting Bruno was an impossibility. We gathered in a room and awaited his arrival: Tatanie gave strict instructions on how the session was to go, but even this was difficult as most of the girls (there were three  males including me I think) were intent on presenting Bruno with a bouquet or gift, and to have him sign an autograph. There was also a photographer (a fan himself) who took a picture of each supplicant. It had been intended that the original small group would sing a song for Bruno, and being an honorary  brunette for the period of my visit, I was required to sing couple of les with Dasha Z. Mine went something like,
"Je  ferai cheque jour de vélo, "
Dasha would come in with, "Je montrerai Kilimanjaro'",
and then we would sing together, "Si tu me demanderais.", or words  to that effect.  Most unfortunately,  because there were too many folk there, and too little time, the fan performance was postponed.

I bet you were absolutely gutted, to lose the opportunity to make an absolute twazzock  of yourself?

Well it would have been a golden opportunity for Dasha and I to catch the ear and eye of promoters who were present. However, in deference to the needs of the wider group, I feel that the sacrifice was what was required.

Very noble of you.

Thank you.
Such was the extra number of girls, and with a strict time allowance imposed, I thought Iraida was not going to be able to present her gift to Bruno, something special from Siberia, in the form of a pair of special slippers (lapti) made from natural materials, and designed to massage the feet. They were great! But I am pleased announce that she did and that I got an autograph too. Bruno remembered me from the airport, but thought I might be Simon, rather than Robin. He hadn't yet been in touch with Luce since our chance meeting in the airport, but I told him that I had!

Once all of the fans had presented him with gifts and/or had their photograph taken with home, we had to go and collect our coats from the cloakroom, because it was getting late and the cloakroom ladies wanted to get home. They were not to be ignored!

Following the Brunette tradition, it was then necessary to go and stand outside the stage door, so that final greetings and even more bouquets could be bestowed upon Bruno. I went with Iraida and Dasha and joined the hardy souls who were waiting outside. It began to snow. At last, a chance to use my favourite Russian phrase! "Снег идет", pronounced  "Snyek idyot " and meaning........

Go on, surprise me!

..... And meaning, "It is snowing."

You didn't  surprise me.

If you look closely you might be able to spot the odd one out!

Eventually Bruno and his entourage emerged from the stage door and walked the gauntlet, the gauntlet of adoration and love.

Really?

Well, I was meaning walking through  a kind of guard of honour, lining a path to the door of the minibus. And clearly the girls love and adore him, I would say,  ... as an observer.

OK, I understand, I think.

The minibus pulled away from the stage door and the Brunettes  and we were left to make our way back through the snow shower to the Metro. We made it back to the Ploschad Vossanski  and to the Octiabrskaya Hotel, from where we collected our luggage before heading for another nearby cafe for refueling and preparation for the overnight journey to Moscow.

Overnight journey to to Moscow?

Had you forgotten? No comfortable bed this night - it would be a hard berth in a Platz-kart  wagon on the train to Moscow. Refueling was undertaken, punctuated by a short Facebook conversation with Luce.   Then came the short walk, with Dasha and Iraida helping  me with my luggage, around the square to the Moskovskaya Station. There was a slight concern over my documentation in that the ticket spelled my name as Santerson. Of such things are problems caused. 

There was a bit of a kerkuffle (that's a good word for those in Quebec and Russia) just ahead of us as we stood  in the queue  to climb aboard our carriage - number 12. Apparently someone's  passport number did not tally with that shown on the ticket. The lady in question was led off for further investigation, accompanied by Alena  as moral support. When my turn came Iraida ushered me forward. The lady scrutinized my passport and ticket, stamped various  parts of the ticket and handed them back to me. 

Climbing on board we made our way along the carriage until we found our allotted bunks. There were four bunk across the width of the carriage, and a further two at rectangles to the four, with a corridor between them. There are no doors in this class of travel So I was sharing a lower bunk with Dasha in the one above me, and opposite us were Iraida and Tatanie.  The other two bunks were occupied by two unknown gentlemen. Each bunk is provided with a pillow and roll up mattress, plus bed-linen and a towel. Our space became a focal point, with at least ten people gathering to talk, drink wine and tea, and eat some biscuits. Bearing in mind that the train left at about 00.40, there was some concern about noise keeping other folk awake, but not too much concern. 

What a brilliant experience. It was a bit like camping on a train. There was a samovar at the end of the carriage, so that you could make tea or coffee. My little store of tea-bags and coffee packets went down very well, as did Tatanie's 2 litre box of red wine.  After some stern looks from the carriage attendant, the girls began to drift off to their own bunks, leaving us to make up our own bunks and settled down for what was left of the night. The train was due to arrive in Moscow about 10:00. I slept reasonably, but not very well. As with all modes of transport these days, it was very hot. 

Breakfast emerged from nowhere, or at least from various bags in the compartment, and included tea/coffee, meat, cheese and bread. It was all good!