Oh Kazan, how I pine for thee! Less so for Arena, which is basically your typical mega-disco complete with thugs, flashing lights and underage girls. It's been around for donkey's years (I was here in 2001), but I bet it hasn't changed a bit, although maybe the boys no longer polish their shoes in the toilets - apparently shiny boots are the way to a Russian girl's heart. For all the bad things I could say about it though, Arena will always occupy a small but special space in my memory. It was here, on one wintry Tuesday evening, that my enchanting hostess sung "London Cries". I'll tell you about it some day...

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