We ushered in the week of Fall Break with a three-day excursion to Moscow-the largest city, not only in Russia, but also in Europe. Red Square, the Kremlin, St. Basil's Cathedral, everything iconically Russian blitzed past us in a dazzling whirl before we all parted ways for a week of rest and travel.

Thursday night we dragged our gear down the platform in St. Petersburg toward the waiting train that would take us, overnight, to Moscow. Arriving at 7 a.m. the next morning, we stumbled off the train and onto the waiting buses. Driving north, the pre-dawn grayness gradually lifted, raising the curtain on a modern, handsome city.

After a whirlwind tour that took us first to Red Square where we stood open-mouthed in front of the Kremlin walls and St. Basil's Cathedral, then past the Church of Christ the Savior and the oldest convent in Moscow, to a monument based on the book Make Way for Ducklings, up to Moscow State University, and an overlook of the city that even the lowering clouds couldn't diminish. Despite the tiredness weighing on everyone, we all felt the exhilaration of at last seeing the capital and heart of Russia.

After lunch, a group of us intrepidly descended into the labyrinth, otherwise known as the Moscow Metro System, in order to go to the city Space Museum. Since Moscow is a city of flamboyant, grandiose monuments, the one outside the museum did not disappoint-a silver rocket shooting up into space, supported by a long silver tail streaming out and down to a granite base covered in reliefs of the Russian proletariat encouraging the first astronaut into "infinity and beyond." Despite the chill and the snow that started to fall heavily, we capered happily around on the monument until we started getting really dirty stares from the policemen gathered at the base of the monument. At that point, we hastily made our way into the museum, a collection of the first Russian space suits, the tiny sphere inhabited by Yuri Gagarin on his first orbit around the earth, equipment from past outer-space flights, even the stuffed remains of two dogs sent into space in unmanned craft.

On Sunday, our last day in Moscow as a group, several of us got up early to go see Lenin. We discovered that you can't just line up in front of the mausoleum, you have to go to the bottom of the slope at one end of Red Square and wait there. At five minutes to 10, the first group gets led partway up the hill. Then, several more minutes of suspense. Finally, the breathless moment when you walk through the metal detectors past the stone-faced guard. At last, you reach the dark mouth of the ziggurat-like tomb, and the wild thought flashes into your mind that perhaps you should cross yourself or bow. Of course it's absurd, but this tomb is as much a shrine as any of the churches scattered throughout the city, so the thought occurs that perhaps the guards at the entrance expect some further reverence from visitors. Descending into the tomb feels like entering the crypt of an Egyptian pharaoh as you walk down steps of black marble, past silent, statue-like police. At last, you turn the corner, and there, looking like your great-grandfather laid out in his best suit, lies Lenin. The amount of time that you get to see him lasts as long as it takes you to walk around the bier. Lingering is strictly forbidden. Exiting the crypt, it occurs to you that it's a lot of fuss and bother over someone who looks like a wax dummy from Madame Toussaud's.

More impressive is the bust of Stalin, still grimacing smugly from behind his sausage mustache. One of the most evil men in the world lies at your feet, but the granite cover of his tomb doesn't betray the frailty of the body the way Lenin does.

At last, on Sunday afternoon, we finished checking out of the hotel and saying goodbye to each other, all excited to see new places during Travel Week, all a little sad to see our time in Moscow come to an end.