Among my favourite places were the beautifully designed metro stations, each resembling an underground museum, and Gorky Park, where locals gathered despite the cold. In the evenings, the atmosphere shifted. The former Red October island had become the heart of Moscow's nightlife, with bars and clubs occupying old industrial buildings overlooking the river.

Dining out revealed another side of the city. Restaurant menus were often surprisingly concise, service felt more direct than what I was accustomed to in Western Europe, and yet tipping was still expected. It was a small cultural difference that stood out during the trip.

One of my strongest memories, however, was the people. Before I had the chance to observe them, I often felt they had already noticed us. Whether it was our Dr. Martens boots, our body language, or simply the fact that we spoke English, we were clearly visitors. Ordering in English at cafés or asking questions in museums only reinforced that feeling. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it made me more aware of how differently we moved through the city compared to the locals.

This series is less about Moscow's famous landmarks than about the atmosphere that surrounded them: a city balancing history and modernity, immense yet intimate, and quietly revealing itself through everyday moments.