While I took little to no interest in the football world cup, I cannot deny that its recent presence in Russia has been of significant advantage to me with a clear and present effort to make each of the host cities welcoming to non-russian speaking visitors. In Kazan this was apparent in the pop up tourist information tents around the old city and the handy “Nightlife of Kazan” booklets at my hostel. The latter were particularly good, suggesting sights to see and various eateries in addition to live music venues and a few vouchers.
With only a day to explore the city and having caught up on my sleep with an early night, I got and early start, wandering up Bauman Street to the Kazan Kremlin. Coming to see the beautiful Qolşärif Mosque was my main reason for stopping in Kazan and having caught a glimpse of it from the taxi the day prior, I was buzzing with anticipation as I wound through the old buildings of the Kremlin to see it. The cyan roofs stretching toward the sky atop glistening white towers did not fail to impress and stole my breath as I craned my head back to admire them.
By comparison and given the lack of English signage (the World Cup accessibility boost fell short at translations in museums) the rest of the Kazan Kremlin paled. This is not to say it was not good, the view over the Reka Kazanka was spectacular and the domes of the Annunciation Cathedral were suitably elegant, it is just that the Qolşärif Mosque is the type of building whose elegance and architecture are so magnificent that it takes several days for the memory to fade and before most other buildings can compare.
Having finished my exploration of the Kazan Kremlin and resisted the urge to get a horse and cart ride around the city, I found myself heading to the Soviet Life Museum. This turned out to be a bit disappointing as all the English was outside and once one got into the museum there were hardly any Russian descriptions and no English ones. Overall the Museum also had the air of a jumble sale from forty or fifty years ago rather than that of a museum.
Unfortunately, with the departure time of my train to Moscow drawing closer, I had to finishing my sightseeing of Kazan at this point and grab dinner before walking to the train station. This final leg of my Trans Siberian journey-I shall not count my commuter train to St Petersburg-was the shortest, and does not merit its own post as very little can be said about sleeping soundly on a train for eight hours. The train itself was very smart and new. Indeed both third class carriages I have stayed in have been rather nice and a whole lot better than I had been led to believe. That or as a student backbacker, I just have very low standards and am easy to please.