As the night wore on, the bar began to fill with an eclectic mix of characters: a young couple celebrating their anniversary, a group of rowdy expats, and a lone figure in a long coat, who seemed to be nursing a bottle of vodka like it was an old friend.
And I knew that I would return to the Russian Bar, to Sergei and Ivan, and to the world of stories and secrets that lay within. For in that smoky, dimly lit establishment, I had discovered a piece of myself, a piece that would forever be tied to the enigmatic and beautiful world of Russia. russianbare