After a heavy day of drinking in central Moscow (I had arrived at 0800 that morning), I found myself in desperate need of a jimmy riddle. Beginning to jog as the very real fear of wetting myself again dawned on me, stumbling down the stairs...into to this place at 0300 was a real stroke of luck. I ended up basing myself in this wonderful bunker bar for the next 5 days. Decked out completely in war, military and espionage memorabilia, my initial thought on entering was that I was seconds away from becoming the next Ken Bigley. Blind panic took over as my bladder reached breaking point, I made a mad dash to the khazi. What I discovered on entering is something I will treasure for the rest of my mortal life. As I sad on the bog (I also needed a Barry at this point) I let out a roar of satisfaction and approval. What a fantastic gimmick. As a lifelong exhibitionist and regular attendee of SCATCON summits, the mock (yet extremely realistic) CCTV cameras monitoring me as I laid the cable really was something special. For me, this is what travelling the world is all about. I spent the best part of 45 minutes in the toilet alone which caused some discontent from fellow patrons. On exiting I noticed one had been forced to curl one out in the urinal but I make no apologies for my actions. On subsequent visits I sampled the full array of drinks and food this place had to offer. For a bar so centrally located the lager is extremely well priced at R220 a pint and the food also extremely reasonable. Varied too, everything from disgusting Japanese muck to good old beef and spuds. Even the vodka was buy 2 get 1 free. What more could I ask? The clientele were a highlight also. Local drunkards enjoying a hard earned drink after a day in the sun and local scantily clad ladies looking for a tourist to rinse. A place where nobody was judging me and I was not judging them. Just a group of people from across the globe (the World Cup was on) enjoying getting ratfaced together. If you like guns and knives (like me), this bar is almost a museum. Hundreds of both deck the walls and onmy last night I managed to clamber up and take down one of the old school Kalashnikov's. I waved it merrily in the air shouting 'Look at me, I'm that Colonel Gabdaffi'. Whilst both staff and fellow drinkers were not overly impressed, I just had to get my hands on one before I left. I was asked to leave which I did promptly, in truth I had outstayed my welcome. I had a wonderful week in this bar and I felt I had experienced the very essence of Mother Russia flowing through it. Thank you 'spy bar'