The Telegraph’s Ambrose Evans-Pritchard, in his article on the potential for a Russian agricultural resurgence to address global famine, rightly draws attention to the fact that

these reserves of idle soil are alone enough to meet the entire global need of 30m extra hectares over the next decade.

And indeed there are British farmers already getting in on the action.

Props to Ambrose, though, not just for the article, but for managing to find himself an analyst named Kingsmill.

… it is now.

The Champions’ League final, that is.

I know I don’t normally talk about work on this blog, but I thought I’d point out our Moscow Football Diary on the FCO Website. There’s some photos on the Flickr channel, too.

28th May.

Commander Ian Lancaster Fleming – author, fantasist, banker, journalist, sailor and failed diplomat – would have been 100 today, had he kept off the gin and cigarettes.

The Register, along with a suitably tongue-in-cheek potted biography, reports of a commemorative exhibition at the Imperial War Museum entitled For Your Eyes Only. Hope to make it back to London before it closes.

In the meantime, I’ve been looking for an excuse to post this xkcd.com cartoon for ages.

Just had this emailed to me. Cruel, very cruel.

It was a good game, though. And more than that, Moscow did itself proud, and so did the visiting fans. Walking around the city over the past few days there’s been a real carnival atmosphere, from the Champions’ Festival in Red Square to the various bars and restaurants around the city who have welcomed the fans with open arms.

I didn’t make it to the stadium itself, but from what I hear the story there was very much the same – enjoyable, warm (not the weather …) and friendly. More than that, though, everything worked – in Red Square, at the airports, at the stadium, everywhere seemed to be run with the same calm, well-planned efficiency.

My sympathies to the Chelsea fans – my daughter included. And to the (minority of) British tabloid journalists who came here looking for a negative story, and had to go home empty-handed.  Perhaps you can write about the dozen or so Chelsea fans who were arrested on Fulham Broadway on Wednesday night, instead.

NB I’ve not credited the image above because I don’t know whose it is. It’s all over various footy-related fora, and even Sky News have shown it. It it’s yours, let me know and I’ll happily provide a link.

In case it’s escaped anyone’s attention, Chelsea and Manchester United meet in Moscow on Wednesday for the Champions’ League Final. It’s going to be quite a week for Moscow.

Which is why I’m more than usually frustrated at my bleariness this morning – thanks to the cacophony of car horns and shouting in the wee small hours outside the bar across the road. Russia beat Canada last night to win the 2008 IIHF World Championship, you see – their first World Championship in fifteen years.

Well done, chaps. And a useful and timely reminder that, despite how it feels sometimes, there’s more to life than football.

Graf that knocks you out! – some stunning imagery here.

(from Scraps of Moscow.)

Spent most of the afternoon enjoying coffee and cake in Russia’s first Costa Coffee. It’s on Pushkin Square, just along from Russia’s first McDonald’s – which, in turn, celebrated its eighteenth birthday earlier this year.

Costa have ambitious plans: 20 outlets in the first year, 200 within five. Starbucks have similar plans. It’s all a micro-indicator of the levels of investor confidence, consumer income and perceived economic potential in this country.

The newly-opened Costa’s good, too – a pretty reasonable facsimile of our own local one back on the UK, although we’re still searching for a viable alternative to the sadly-departed Volkonski*. Don’t get me wrong, we’re more than happy to be intrepid and head out to a random bit of forest for some shashlik. But on the odd driech Sunday afternoon, when Moscow is at its very greyest, a little slice of home goes a long way. Particularly for the kids.

Ah yes, the kids – and the point of this post. Tom (6 1/2) spent most of today’s Costa experience learning how to use his mum’s iPod. He’s played around with them before, but today he was really keen to actually learn the menu structure and how the various functions worked.

Which prompted me to regale the kids with the story of how, when I was around the same age as Tom, I had my first brush with a Sony Walkman. My parents’ friend Ron, visiting from San Francisco (where else?), brought it with him. I have a snapshot-memory of listening to Synchronicity II while playing Snapper on our BBC Micro. Must have been 1982.

Dad, what’s a Walkman?

Very good question. Well, kids, (ignoring the reinvented brand of MP3 players and cellphones), it was what we had when I was younger instead of iPods. You put tapes in them and listened to the music.

Tapes? What do you mean?

Lordy. I know technology moves fast. But when my own kids, the iPod generation, have to ask what a Walkman is or what tapes are, it makes me feel old.

—

* – Volkonski on Old Arbat closed suddenly a couple of weeks ago, replaced virtually overnight by yet another sushi bar. Word on the street is some sort of landlord / rent issue. Whatever happened, Moscow’s the poorer for it.

When is a teacake not a teacake? – from Boulton & Co

Naomi Campbell banned from BA – from el Reg

Ten Lords a-Blogging – h/t Simon

I’m a ‘commentary with a regional perspective‘, apparently. Cool.

Putin Pants – patriotism, Shapovalova-stylee

… and finally …

a mobile banya, courtesy of Theo.

Someone been on the vodka? Click for bigger.

Light Sabre for your N95 – pointless but brilliant

Simon Dickson on Whitehall and WordPress – don’t hold your breath, Simon

Nokia Internet Tablet – shape of things to come, or interesting tangent?

Renault buys into Lada – cue all the old Lada jokes. But hey, look what VW did for Skoda.