Kazan airport is quiet, clean and comfortable. And outside the Tu-134
awaits, raising my hopes, but it is not to be and I doubt I'll ever get
on one of the beasts now.


Seat-pitch in the 737 is very short indeed. The lanky guy across the aisle from me, who fortunately has a row to himself, is in the middle seat with one knee pressed against the left seat ahead of him and one against the right. But the 80min flight is fine, with free bread, fruit and water.
It's a gorgeous, clear evening with visibility stretching to the incredibly distant Russian horizon, the Volga River - more an elongated sea - passing beneath us, and the evening sun on the nose. It's a rude awakening to be back on Domodedovo's congested ramp and an even ruder one to be ordered by some jumped-up asshole on the tarmac not to photograph the 737. Here's one for your album chum!
Seat-pitch in the 737 is very short indeed. The lanky guy across the aisle from me, who fortunately has a row to himself, is in the middle seat with one knee pressed against the left seat ahead of him and one against the right. But the 80min flight is fine, with free bread, fruit and water.
It's a gorgeous, clear evening with visibility stretching to the incredibly distant Russian horizon, the Volga River - more an elongated sea - passing beneath us, and the evening sun on the nose. It's a rude awakening to be back on Domodedovo's congested ramp and an even ruder one to be ordered by some jumped-up asshole on the tarmac not to photograph the 737. Here's one for your album chum!

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