Went to SUP's holiday party too. [some pics] But I guess those pics don't really highlight the ridiculousness of the venue. All the nightclubs here are pretty extravagantly ridiculous. But there was no George Clooney or Gwenth Paltrow in a cage. (love that article: you don't often see the phrase, "We OWN you, bitches!" in a printed newspaper with your breakfast, hotel restaurant windows looking out to St. Basil's in the Kremlin...)
I just got a call from the hotel receptionist saying that my driver was here. My driver? What? Oh, my flight was originally today, so probably my return taxi to the airport, but I'm returning now instead on Tuesday (yes, flying all day xmas). But even so, a driver at 13:30 would be way too late to get to the airport. I ask the receptionist to point him out or describe him. She's flustered, trying to explain that he's black. (Black people are incredibly rare here.) Went out, found him, and after a confusing conversation, turns out that not only was he going to the wrong airport (Domodedovo, not Sheremetyevo), but he was supposed to be driving Boy George, not me. Wtf? I can only imagine the confusion at the receptionist's desk that she called me down to "my driver" instead of Boy George.
Anyway, Moscow is great, as always. I love this city. One warning, though: when a relatively large Russian guy with the nickname "Wolf" wants to drink whiskey with you, politely decline.
Speaking of wolves, apparently a wolf boy is loose in Moscow. Wtf.
Newly discovered funny blog from article above: Moscow Doesn't Believe in Tears.
Unrelated misc links: