Children are Monitoring Security

Let's hope the dark clouds over the Black Sea are purely weather related. Those pretty blue roofs provide shelter to the melange of Uzbeks, Turks, Georgians and Armenians who are still building this place. Last time I looked there were 4 bunk beds (8 guys) to a room.

There are children at the security checkpoints . . . and they don't seem particularly well trained. Sure the iron-jawed militia are keeping a watchful eye, but the x-ray machine operators don't seem to fully understand their equipment. The guy in front of me emptied his entire backpack and little Natasha kept shaking her head . . . "metal" she said. He shrugged, she kept shaking her head. Then she smiled and just waved him through. I had no metal except for my iPad and some coins . . . "metal" she said again. I showed her the inside of my backpack. She still wasn't satisfied. Finally I said in Russian . . .

У меня нет никакого металла (I don't have any metal). She smiled and waived me through. Then a pimply faced teenager gave me a quick body search. He smelled so bad of B.O. that I nearly choked. I can't imagine what he will smell like in two weeks after wearing the same cheerful Sochi 2014 flower jacket every day. In all fairness they laugh at us because they say we smell like soap.

Our compound is spacious and unlike past Olympics, it's very close to the venue. All the boys were happy to see me. They've only been here for 3 days but somehow seem a bit worn out. There is no town, no restaurants, bars, stores or nice places to stroll. They take their meals at the compound or at the hotel. Although you could hit an 5-iron to the compound, they will have to take a 20 minute walk most days. And if this afternoon at 5:00 pm is any indication of the length of the security lines during the Games, they will wait in line for 30 minutes.

The funniest sight of the day . . . . A beautiful line of newly planted pine trees, meticulously staked in the center divider of the main Olympic roadway. The only problem was that they continued underneath a maze of highway overpasses. They will have no light and, if they grow they will stop when they hit the concrete.

Arrived in Sochi

The sound of pounding Black Sea surf filters through my glass door as the rain comes down in sheets.  Arrival in Sochi was easy. Accreditation was quick, luggage arrived safely and transportation was waiting. Security was pretty low key. No guns were visible. The Cossacks, who lived in this area before the Russians took the place over in the 1820's are providing some local color for new arrivals. Swarthy guys in gray Greatcoats with big fur hats made their presence known. They were in contrast to the blonde haired, chiseled jawed Russian militiamen who stood by in the arrivals area as well. It was, well, sort of festive. Dozens of Natalias, Lyudmillas and Anastasias were hanging around sporting their flowery Sochi volunteer garb. It feels like the Olympics . . . well. . . . sort of.

My Umami burger from the Bradley Terminal is sill repeating 13 hours later. But what a joy it was to jam down a squishy chili burger as a "last meal" before I drop into the abyss. Flying in, The RusskieLand theme park was lit beautifully. No worry that the hastily paved new roads already have NYC potholes to navigate. My favorite "no" symbol, the French finger wag isn't part of the culture. Nyet seems to be two arms crossed at the wrist with a good loud and polite . . ."нет, пожалуйста" (No Please).

The place has changed immensely since I was here a year ago. The roads are paved and the Ring is brightly lit with a rainbow of colors. Where did all the mud go?

I was a bit melancholy boarding the flight as this will be the first NBC Olympics for me without Dick Ebersol. I have been missing his passion and guidance in the lead up to the Games.

Strangely enough, I sat next to an Ebersol on the flight to Moscow . . . Dick's son Willie. It was strangely surreal because Willie has many of the facial expressions and mannerisms of his dad. We had a terrific time . . . albeit 12 1/2 hours. He has a lot of Dick inside him.

So now it's 2:30 am and I'm ready to start the day! This is not a good thing. The bed is comfortable and I think I'm the first occupant of this room since the hotel was finished a few weeks ago. We are isolated in a far corner of the Olympic Ring with unoccupied condos lurking across the street. Although it's dark I can see a pretty nice beach from my balcony. A four foot set of rollers is crashing against the promenade. A beach resort at the Winter Games? Really?

Luckily I have the weekend to sort myself out. The real meetings start Monday.

A Bit Anxious

It's 7:40 am on Wednesday, January 29 and I'm feeling a little sense of anxiety as I wait for my flights to Moscow and Sochi this afternoon. My main worries surround the Russian airports. These are soft targets . . . but it may be too early for the crazy people to strike.

I'm drinking my daily coffee on the couch watching the Today show, as I've done for countless mornings. I'm still doing my daily routine. I did a final trim on the rose, I'll hit the gym one final time as well. Then off to LAX where it seems like you enter Russia at the Aeroflot gate. Lots of stinky perfume and cologne wafting through a crowd of pushy passengers as they seek an additional inch or two in the long boarding lines. RusskieLand . . . Here I come. Is it ironic that I'm staying at the Radisson Blu Paradise Resort and Spa??????