St Petersburg

The song finishes with a crash of drums, a final guitar guitar and keyboard chord. I'm in a rehearsal with Mallory, a St Petersburg pop-punk group. I'd originally set out this evening to drop my parents off at the airport but having done that I was leafing through my guidebook when I found a note written there four years ago. The handwriting was that of Alexandra, a girl from a group of leather loving heavy metal fans I met on the metro home in 2004 who had asked me to come to their new underground club. After several rounds of toasts to celebrate their first foreign visitor I had headed home but not before the kind words and the address of the basement venue had been written down. So I had returned, but all that greeted me was a second hand shop, staffed by three friendly Russians who vaguely remembered the previous musical tenants. Feeling it would be a shame to give up too easily, I asked around for any more details but to no avail. One guy, who had just pulled up in a battered old car, did know several good clubs. After a long while of sitting and talking, out of the cold in his ageing auto with the engine and heaters on full, Misha invited me first to his band rehearsal and then to stay with him and his girlfriend, Valya, in the north of the city.