I guess I was tired. I slept from around 3 yesterday afternoon until 5 this morning. The pooch didn't forget about running during my three week absence, but I took it easy on her (ha!) and we only went 5 miles.
We're still waiting on the delivery of our lost backpacks. They traveled more than we did. From Atlanta, they apparently went first to Chicago, then to Cincinnati, then to Minneapolis. From the airport, a delivery service is supposed to bring them to the house sometime before 9:30pm today. Keeping our fingers crossed, as there are several items in Big Boy's pack that he'll need for camp. And he's leaving tomorrow! Here's a shot of little boy at camp.
I was in for a very illuminating surprise at work this morning. They finally got around to replacing the light bulbs in the fixture that's directly above my computer. I could perform microsurgery right at my desk now. I can't tell if my headache is jetlag or the torture of constant bright light. I asked the maintenance dude if he would take out the fixture, as he was doing for another coworker and he said, "If I do it for you, I'll have to do it for everybody." And the problem with that is what, exactly?
As I was running this morning, I noticed the distinct lack of air pollution. It was very, very nice. I still can't figure out how the sky managed to stay so clear & blue in Russia when the air quality at ground level was so awful. Between the smokers & the traffic, my lungs felt like I was smoking every day! The other nice thing was that the runners & bikers I encountered smiled and waved hello instead of passing by and looking at me like I was a crazy foreigner. I guess I'm just an eccentric native now. I can live with that.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Planes, trains and automobiles...er...
...make that buses. But more on that in a bit.
Sleeping at the Dublin airport was less comfortable than Zurich, mainly because we lost the first spot we'd grabbed at 9pm, because Big Boy wanted to find a better spot. There wasn't one. There was an area on the second floor that was (1) warmer and (2) somewhat more comfortable, but we got kicked out of there almost immediately. There were lots of people sleeping in this airport. On the chairs, which were prime spots, but only if you found some without armrests. On the floor, with or without sleeping pads they'd brought with them. The patrol officers knew all about it and didn't care at all. One woman who got kicked out the second floor just before we did, was asked by the officers if she was staying the night. We ended up on some chairs right next to a door that announced every five minutes that smoking is prohibited and if you want to smoke, go to the smoking lounge. I slept on & off from about 11 to 3am. I sat up and promptly lost my second chair to lay down on when a woman just walked up and sat down right next to me.
By that time, they'd stopped kicking people out of the second floor, so we moved up to those seats. Big Boy went back to sleep, but I couldn't, so I people-watched and wrote in my travel journal. A little after 6am, I woke Big Boy up and we went to retrieve our backpacks and figure out where to check in for our flight. Check in started at 8am. There was a group of Irish middle school kids who were going to Tennessee for a month on some sort of exchange. We got ahead of them and checked in first. (In the end, this turned out not to be such a good thing.) The nice Irish boy who checked us in insisted that we check our backpacks because the flight was overbooked and there'd be no room for them. They each weighed less than the 18 kilo carry on limit and we half heartedly argued with him, but he was so polite with that accent... I'd already taken out most of the souvenirs and put them in the Guinness bag, but we moved things around a bit and checked the backpacks.
We then went through security and headed for US Customs. The US is the only country that has a separate secured area for people to go through in order to travel. It is not a pleasant experience, nor was it a pleasant waiting area. No access to internet, or shops, or food. One set of bathrooms for four or five gates. Hundreds of people crammed in without adequate seating, just waiting for their flights to depart. Big Boy got selected for extra screening on our way onto the flight. Fun!
We boarded, and apparently, the nice young Irish boy had told everyone that the flight was full and they had to check their bags, because there was tons of room in the overhead bins. Delta had decent food and free wine. Two movies were shown. I got an hour or so nap during the 7 1/2 hour flight and managed to miss the afternoon pizza snack. At least I'd gotten the ice cream that they'd brought around previously. And I snagged the blankets, which would come in handy later.
We landed about 3:15pm in Atlanta. It was 90 and humid, a startling contrast to 50 and rain. Our flight to Chicago was supposed to leave at 4:46, so we had to get those bags (to take through US Customs) and get to our next gate rather quickly. Uh huh. Sure.
An hour later, still no bags. The group of Irish kids was waiting, too. Most of the bags made it off the plane, but the conveyor broke or something. Finally, they made an announcement that no more bags would be coming and we'd have to fill out a claim form when we got to our final destination. We'd already missed our flight to Chicago, but they told us to go to the gate and they would book us on the next flight. So, we took the train to terminal A and headed for our gate, at the end of the concourse, of course. We saw on the monitors that our flight was still boarding! We walked really fast. They'd changed the gate! And the flight was still boarding. Instead of gate A31, it was gate B26. We had to go back downstairs, get on the train, go to B terminal, go up stairs, and RUN! We made it. We got on the flight!
But, it was delayed - bad thunderstorms in Chicago, they had a ground stop or something in effect. 6:15. 7:15... They let us off the plane and we tried to get seats on a flight to Minneapolis, but they were all full. We called Northwest, because there was no way we'd be in Chicago in time to catch our 8pm flight. After 25 minutes on hold, Northwest tells us that the flight has been canceled. But, they can get us on a flight on... Saturday. Saturday!?!? What would we do in the meantime? Well, it's a weather problem, not NWA's fault, so there would be no hotel voucher, we'd have to sleep in the airport. Umm. No thanks. We got our tickets refunded.
Good thing I'd researched the bus option. I knew that Greyhound had buses at 10:30pm and 12:30am. I checked the website and it still looked like they had seats available, but I couldn't buy tickets because they require you to pick them up at least an hour before the bus leaves, and I still had no idea when we'd get to Chicago. Given that we only had $5 and some useless rubles between us, it was awfully good that I'd taken my debit card out of the money belt before I packed it into my backpack. We managed to find some food without pig in it (Atlanta, a place where they seem to put pig into everything) and got back to the gate. Finally, at 8:30pm, the flight left for Chicago. Both of us slept most of the flight.
We arrived in Chicago about 9pm. We hung around the baggage claim just to see if our backpacks had made the flight. Nope. We checked with the woman at the baggage claim and she looked it up for us - the bags are not lost, but they are coming in on a flight tomorrow morning. So we went to "Baggage Services" (where the woman had told us that it was impossible to look up bags, it simply could not be done. umm... thanks) and filled out a claim.
To the bus/train/transport-to-city area! The ticket machines don't take plastic and don't make change. Besides, we had no cash. More walking around, first to get cash, then to get change, then back to the bus/transport area to get 2 train tickets to downtown Chicago. It was nearly 11pm. I'd thought I'd seen a sign that said "35 minutes to downtown" and foolishly thought that meant the train. Uh. No. Plus, being basically transplanted Milwaukeeans, we underestimate the vastness that is Chicago. By the time we got to our stop, it was 12:15am. Then, a mad dash 2 blocks to the Greyhound station to see if there are any seats left on the bus that leaves at 12:30. Yes! We got the last two seats.
The Guinness bag failed at some point during the night. Poor thing, it was not only overloaded, but had been rained on in Dublin, carried frantically through three airports on two continents, shoved into two different overhead bins, and squashed under a bus seat. Luckily, I had the blankets from Delta. One of them wrapped the Guinness bag, the other covered me up.
We stopped in Milwaukee just after 2am and Tomah around 5:30. I got to watch the sunrise and it was beautiful. We pulled into Eau Claire around 7 and arrived in St. Paul at 8:35am. The pooch was overjoyed to see us, the cats not so much. SO seems to have accepted our return with good grace. :)
More later. Now, must nap.
Sleeping at the Dublin airport was less comfortable than Zurich, mainly because we lost the first spot we'd grabbed at 9pm, because Big Boy wanted to find a better spot. There wasn't one. There was an area on the second floor that was (1) warmer and (2) somewhat more comfortable, but we got kicked out of there almost immediately. There were lots of people sleeping in this airport. On the chairs, which were prime spots, but only if you found some without armrests. On the floor, with or without sleeping pads they'd brought with them. The patrol officers knew all about it and didn't care at all. One woman who got kicked out the second floor just before we did, was asked by the officers if she was staying the night. We ended up on some chairs right next to a door that announced every five minutes that smoking is prohibited and if you want to smoke, go to the smoking lounge. I slept on & off from about 11 to 3am. I sat up and promptly lost my second chair to lay down on when a woman just walked up and sat down right next to me.
By that time, they'd stopped kicking people out of the second floor, so we moved up to those seats. Big Boy went back to sleep, but I couldn't, so I people-watched and wrote in my travel journal. A little after 6am, I woke Big Boy up and we went to retrieve our backpacks and figure out where to check in for our flight. Check in started at 8am. There was a group of Irish middle school kids who were going to Tennessee for a month on some sort of exchange. We got ahead of them and checked in first. (In the end, this turned out not to be such a good thing.) The nice Irish boy who checked us in insisted that we check our backpacks because the flight was overbooked and there'd be no room for them. They each weighed less than the 18 kilo carry on limit and we half heartedly argued with him, but he was so polite with that accent... I'd already taken out most of the souvenirs and put them in the Guinness bag, but we moved things around a bit and checked the backpacks.
We then went through security and headed for US Customs. The US is the only country that has a separate secured area for people to go through in order to travel. It is not a pleasant experience, nor was it a pleasant waiting area. No access to internet, or shops, or food. One set of bathrooms for four or five gates. Hundreds of people crammed in without adequate seating, just waiting for their flights to depart. Big Boy got selected for extra screening on our way onto the flight. Fun!
We boarded, and apparently, the nice young Irish boy had told everyone that the flight was full and they had to check their bags, because there was tons of room in the overhead bins. Delta had decent food and free wine. Two movies were shown. I got an hour or so nap during the 7 1/2 hour flight and managed to miss the afternoon pizza snack. At least I'd gotten the ice cream that they'd brought around previously. And I snagged the blankets, which would come in handy later.
We landed about 3:15pm in Atlanta. It was 90 and humid, a startling contrast to 50 and rain. Our flight to Chicago was supposed to leave at 4:46, so we had to get those bags (to take through US Customs) and get to our next gate rather quickly. Uh huh. Sure.
An hour later, still no bags. The group of Irish kids was waiting, too. Most of the bags made it off the plane, but the conveyor broke or something. Finally, they made an announcement that no more bags would be coming and we'd have to fill out a claim form when we got to our final destination. We'd already missed our flight to Chicago, but they told us to go to the gate and they would book us on the next flight. So, we took the train to terminal A and headed for our gate, at the end of the concourse, of course. We saw on the monitors that our flight was still boarding! We walked really fast. They'd changed the gate! And the flight was still boarding. Instead of gate A31, it was gate B26. We had to go back downstairs, get on the train, go to B terminal, go up stairs, and RUN! We made it. We got on the flight!
But, it was delayed - bad thunderstorms in Chicago, they had a ground stop or something in effect. 6:15. 7:15... They let us off the plane and we tried to get seats on a flight to Minneapolis, but they were all full. We called Northwest, because there was no way we'd be in Chicago in time to catch our 8pm flight. After 25 minutes on hold, Northwest tells us that the flight has been canceled. But, they can get us on a flight on... Saturday. Saturday!?!? What would we do in the meantime? Well, it's a weather problem, not NWA's fault, so there would be no hotel voucher, we'd have to sleep in the airport. Umm. No thanks. We got our tickets refunded.
Good thing I'd researched the bus option. I knew that Greyhound had buses at 10:30pm and 12:30am. I checked the website and it still looked like they had seats available, but I couldn't buy tickets because they require you to pick them up at least an hour before the bus leaves, and I still had no idea when we'd get to Chicago. Given that we only had $5 and some useless rubles between us, it was awfully good that I'd taken my debit card out of the money belt before I packed it into my backpack. We managed to find some food without pig in it (Atlanta, a place where they seem to put pig into everything) and got back to the gate. Finally, at 8:30pm, the flight left for Chicago. Both of us slept most of the flight.
We arrived in Chicago about 9pm. We hung around the baggage claim just to see if our backpacks had made the flight. Nope. We checked with the woman at the baggage claim and she looked it up for us - the bags are not lost, but they are coming in on a flight tomorrow morning. So we went to "Baggage Services" (where the woman had told us that it was impossible to look up bags, it simply could not be done. umm... thanks) and filled out a claim.
To the bus/train/transport-to-city area! The ticket machines don't take plastic and don't make change. Besides, we had no cash. More walking around, first to get cash, then to get change, then back to the bus/transport area to get 2 train tickets to downtown Chicago. It was nearly 11pm. I'd thought I'd seen a sign that said "35 minutes to downtown" and foolishly thought that meant the train. Uh. No. Plus, being basically transplanted Milwaukeeans, we underestimate the vastness that is Chicago. By the time we got to our stop, it was 12:15am. Then, a mad dash 2 blocks to the Greyhound station to see if there are any seats left on the bus that leaves at 12:30. Yes! We got the last two seats.
The Guinness bag failed at some point during the night. Poor thing, it was not only overloaded, but had been rained on in Dublin, carried frantically through three airports on two continents, shoved into two different overhead bins, and squashed under a bus seat. Luckily, I had the blankets from Delta. One of them wrapped the Guinness bag, the other covered me up.
We stopped in Milwaukee just after 2am and Tomah around 5:30. I got to watch the sunrise and it was beautiful. We pulled into Eau Claire around 7 and arrived in St. Paul at 8:35am. The pooch was overjoyed to see us, the cats not so much. SO seems to have accepted our return with good grace. :)
More later. Now, must nap.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
One night in Dublin
There was a scary incident at the hostel that I neglected to mention yesterday because I didn't want anyone else to be worrying about it. I was worried enough!
As Big Boy & I were sitting around, just waiting, this very angry English dude storms into the hostel and starts yelling at Yuri, the day manager, about getting him "a proper taxi" because he'd "just been robbed at knifepoint." He said he'd lost his bag with his passport & money in it and had only two credit cards and 150 dollars in his pockets. He was really agitated and Yuri sort of looked like he'd been kicked in the gut.
This guy had apparently come to our hostel, but didn't have a reservation and it was full, so Yuri said he could take the metro over to another hostel or take a cab. We suppose he chose the cab option. Anyway, the British embassy was closed by this time, so Yuri took the guy to the police station to help him make a report and get him out of the hostel. Hours later, Yuri comes back and starts talking to the night manager about what'd happened. From what I overheard & understood (I got "...Englishman. Stupid guy, why would he get into that car??"), Yuri thinks this guy just waltzed out onto Arbat and put his stuff in some random guy's car and then jumped in the front seat. Whereupon, said random guy thinks he's getting mugged or carjacked and pulls a knife to get the crazy foreigner out of his car.
Well, as you can imagine, this incident sort of freaked me out, cuz we needed to take a taxi to get to the airport early enough for our flight. Public transport is all closed between 1am and 5am. We had a chance to get there with about 10 minutes to spare on the commuter train, but I didn't want to chance it. So, the night manager ordered us a taxi. The dispatcher called with the make & plate number of the car, and we went out to the McDonald's on the corner. Sure enough, silver car, right plate #, and police hanging out on the end of the street. Oh yeah, that's right. There ARE police who just patrol the end of every intersection on Arbat. How did that English dude get into that situation?? Did he fake it? Was he just crazy?
Uneventful ride to the airport, after all that anticipatory stress. The driver drove the speed limit and used his signal for every lane change. I think he's the only driver in Moscow who does that. Despite the Russian passport control woman's apparent unfamiliarity with e-tickets and printing one's boarding pass out at home, we got through security just fine. Easier, in fact, than in America. As we were boarding the plane, some officious woman gave Big Boy a hard time in Russian about his backpack being too big. But he just argued back and we got on the plane. Those SwissAir A320s have big overhead storage. We stowed our stuff with room to spare. Apart from the scary bacon in our airline breakfast food, our flight was also uneventful, but for a little turbulance.
We got to Zurich half an hour late, but had enough time to go through security again (? what's up with that?) and get to our next flight. Also uneventful, but they had chocolate chip muffins. In Dublin, we waited forEVER to get through passport control. They were giving some darker skinned people a hard time. Not to generalize, although I am, but all three lines that were basically at a standstill were stopped because people of color were being given the 3rd degree by the Garda.
After stowing our backpacks at the left luggage place, we caught a doubledecker bus into the city. We walked around trying to find street signs (there must be some allergy to them here) and finally pinpointed our location. We headed towards the Guinness factory because that's one thing we knew we (I) wanted to see. On the way, we saw Christ Church Cathedral. First built in 1050! We found the Guinness place, but were hungry, because our heads think it's 3 hours later than it is here, plus we've slept about 3 hours total on the planes. So we found a pub and food. Nice. Guinness was also nice. And a pint at the end of the tour. And a massive store with lots of stuff. Oops. Now we have another bag.
A little internet now, perhaps later in the airport as well. We'll walk around a bit more, but we're both a little fuzzy headed and cranky. Dublin is adorable, from the way the people talk, to the fact that they know how to fry potatoes. The ancient architecture is pretty awesome, too.
As Big Boy & I were sitting around, just waiting, this very angry English dude storms into the hostel and starts yelling at Yuri, the day manager, about getting him "a proper taxi" because he'd "just been robbed at knifepoint." He said he'd lost his bag with his passport & money in it and had only two credit cards and 150 dollars in his pockets. He was really agitated and Yuri sort of looked like he'd been kicked in the gut.
This guy had apparently come to our hostel, but didn't have a reservation and it was full, so Yuri said he could take the metro over to another hostel or take a cab. We suppose he chose the cab option. Anyway, the British embassy was closed by this time, so Yuri took the guy to the police station to help him make a report and get him out of the hostel. Hours later, Yuri comes back and starts talking to the night manager about what'd happened. From what I overheard & understood (I got "...Englishman. Stupid guy, why would he get into that car??"), Yuri thinks this guy just waltzed out onto Arbat and put his stuff in some random guy's car and then jumped in the front seat. Whereupon, said random guy thinks he's getting mugged or carjacked and pulls a knife to get the crazy foreigner out of his car.
Well, as you can imagine, this incident sort of freaked me out, cuz we needed to take a taxi to get to the airport early enough for our flight. Public transport is all closed between 1am and 5am. We had a chance to get there with about 10 minutes to spare on the commuter train, but I didn't want to chance it. So, the night manager ordered us a taxi. The dispatcher called with the make & plate number of the car, and we went out to the McDonald's on the corner. Sure enough, silver car, right plate #, and police hanging out on the end of the street. Oh yeah, that's right. There ARE police who just patrol the end of every intersection on Arbat. How did that English dude get into that situation?? Did he fake it? Was he just crazy?
Uneventful ride to the airport, after all that anticipatory stress. The driver drove the speed limit and used his signal for every lane change. I think he's the only driver in Moscow who does that. Despite the Russian passport control woman's apparent unfamiliarity with e-tickets and printing one's boarding pass out at home, we got through security just fine. Easier, in fact, than in America. As we were boarding the plane, some officious woman gave Big Boy a hard time in Russian about his backpack being too big. But he just argued back and we got on the plane. Those SwissAir A320s have big overhead storage. We stowed our stuff with room to spare. Apart from the scary bacon in our airline breakfast food, our flight was also uneventful, but for a little turbulance.
We got to Zurich half an hour late, but had enough time to go through security again (? what's up with that?) and get to our next flight. Also uneventful, but they had chocolate chip muffins. In Dublin, we waited forEVER to get through passport control. They were giving some darker skinned people a hard time. Not to generalize, although I am, but all three lines that were basically at a standstill were stopped because people of color were being given the 3rd degree by the Garda.
After stowing our backpacks at the left luggage place, we caught a doubledecker bus into the city. We walked around trying to find street signs (there must be some allergy to them here) and finally pinpointed our location. We headed towards the Guinness factory because that's one thing we knew we (I) wanted to see. On the way, we saw Christ Church Cathedral. First built in 1050! We found the Guinness place, but were hungry, because our heads think it's 3 hours later than it is here, plus we've slept about 3 hours total on the planes. So we found a pub and food. Nice. Guinness was also nice. And a pint at the end of the tour. And a massive store with lots of stuff. Oops. Now we have another bag.
A little internet now, perhaps later in the airport as well. We'll walk around a bit more, but we're both a little fuzzy headed and cranky. Dublin is adorable, from the way the people talk, to the fact that they know how to fry potatoes. The ancient architecture is pretty awesome, too.
Zurich again
Arrived safely. We had 20 min to catch connecting flight. Luckily zurich is efficient. And clean!
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Monday, June 25, 2007
Moscow - Last day
Great weather today, apart from a freak downpour about 2 in the afternoon. We went to Novodevichy Convent and Cemetery today. No crowds, student entry fee, lots of icons, interesting architecture, and they let us take pictures of everything. This is the convent in which Peter the Great imprisoned his sister (after she was part of a plot to overthrow him) and his first wife, of whom he grew tired, apparently. We saw both of their graves in the cathedral. In the cemetery, we saw Shostakovich, Scriabin, Gogol, Chekhov, Bulgakov, and Boris Yeltsin.
Then we wandered around on Arbat, looking for a few last minute souvenirs, which we found. We stopped at one place to exchange Big Boy's soccer jersey that we'd bought day before yesterday. Somehow, we ended up with an XXL. It looked kind of like a dress. So I insisted that we go back and at least ask if we could switch it out. The girl who sold it to us remembered us immediately and said hello effusively. I'd worked out in my head how to say in Russian, "We bought this jersey day before yesterday, but it's too big, can get get a smaller one?" They gave us an XL, still too big. They did have a size L, which was still a little too big, but much, much more acceptable than the 2X was!
For the rest of the day, we didn't have any plan other than the convent and cemetery, so we just walked around. The manager of the hostel said we'd better plan to get a taxi at 3am to get to the airport in time for our flight at 7. So we packed up all our stuff, then went to get some coffee.
We've seen an interesting mix of people here in the hostel. Three guys from Basque country (kinda shifty), several girls from Australia, a couple of guys from the UK, a pair of women from the south US (can tell by their accents), the Chinese German guy, a couple of Colombians who live in the Netherlands... Not everyone is 20something, though that is the majority demographic.
We think we're not going to sleep, because we'll be too tired to fly! We'll blog a bit from Dublin, where we'll arrive about 11am tomorrow. Guinness factory, here we come!
Then we wandered around on Arbat, looking for a few last minute souvenirs, which we found. We stopped at one place to exchange Big Boy's soccer jersey that we'd bought day before yesterday. Somehow, we ended up with an XXL. It looked kind of like a dress. So I insisted that we go back and at least ask if we could switch it out. The girl who sold it to us remembered us immediately and said hello effusively. I'd worked out in my head how to say in Russian, "We bought this jersey day before yesterday, but it's too big, can get get a smaller one?" They gave us an XL, still too big. They did have a size L, which was still a little too big, but much, much more acceptable than the 2X was!
For the rest of the day, we didn't have any plan other than the convent and cemetery, so we just walked around. The manager of the hostel said we'd better plan to get a taxi at 3am to get to the airport in time for our flight at 7. So we packed up all our stuff, then went to get some coffee.
We've seen an interesting mix of people here in the hostel. Three guys from Basque country (kinda shifty), several girls from Australia, a couple of guys from the UK, a pair of women from the south US (can tell by their accents), the Chinese German guy, a couple of Colombians who live in the Netherlands... Not everyone is 20something, though that is the majority demographic.
We think we're not going to sleep, because we'll be too tired to fly! We'll blog a bit from Dublin, where we'll arrive about 11am tomorrow. Guinness factory, here we come!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Moscow - Day 5
Or, Remnants of the Soviet Union at the Kremlin.
We got to the Kremlin an hour after it opened. The ticket-lady is not happy in her occupation, I can tell you that for sure. The crowds weren't bad, it didn't seem like any tour buses were there on a Sunday. The guards have zero sense of humor. Zero. Big Boy's bag was searched, mine was not. And when he didn't understand the guard's fast, slurred Russian, the guard yelled, "Open!" Everyone has to stay behind the chains on the sidewalks and must stay in the crosswalks when crossing the street. If anyone strays outside those boundaries, the police use their whistles. They don't yell, they don't shoot, they whistle.
It's odd, the Kremlin. In the seat of Russian (and formerly Soviet) government, the main attraction is the churches. We went into all the ones that were open. They were pretty cool. 15th century murals looked great, for the most part. One of them was full of a Cartier exhibit. Many shiny diamonds. The platinum and diamond stuff seemed the most tasteful and least gaudy. It was the earliest stuff, naturally. The stuff from the 1960s, ugh. In another church, lots of dead tsars, though Ivan the Terrible was hidden behind some scaffolding-type stuff. The son he killed was in full view. Well, his coffin was anyway. A small choral group came into one of the churches and started singing. Not in Old Church Slavonic, but in Russian. They were awesome. And while the church occasionally falls down and they have to rebuild it, they sure knew how to acoustically tune the spaces.
After that, we went to the Armory, which is another museum on the grounds of the Kremlin. They have some very interesting things there. Lots of shiny things. Ivan the Terrible's throne. Peter the Great's (and Ivan, his brother, who died before becoming tsar) double coronation throne. Lots of crowns with mink and jewels. Katherine's carriages (rich people and their cars, things never change, do they?). Metal work (gold & silver, basically) from the 12th century onward.
We didn't know what to after four hours of Kremlin, so we searched again for the Georgian restaurant we looked for yesterday. We ended up finding it, and there was lots of stuff to eat (cauliflower!) and the price was actually reasonable. We had enough to take to the hostel for dinner.
Then, the afternoon's activity - searching for souvenirs. We walked back and forth on Arbat for hours. It's 1.5 km long, so it's not a bad walk, but we had time for some people watching and laughing at the outrageous prices for some things. A chess set for $3100. A fur hat (not nearly as nice as the one we got for Big Boy) for $500. Crazy.
We have to figure out what we want to do tomorrow, as it's our last day here. And then, traveling! We left on a Thursday morning and arrived in Russia on Saturday afternoon, with a 15 hour layover. Returning, we leave on a Tuesday morning and arrive on Wednesday evening, with a 24 hour layover in Dublin.
I will be SO fun at work next week! (Hi boss! Hi Kerstin!)
We got to the Kremlin an hour after it opened. The ticket-lady is not happy in her occupation, I can tell you that for sure. The crowds weren't bad, it didn't seem like any tour buses were there on a Sunday. The guards have zero sense of humor. Zero. Big Boy's bag was searched, mine was not. And when he didn't understand the guard's fast, slurred Russian, the guard yelled, "Open!" Everyone has to stay behind the chains on the sidewalks and must stay in the crosswalks when crossing the street. If anyone strays outside those boundaries, the police use their whistles. They don't yell, they don't shoot, they whistle.
It's odd, the Kremlin. In the seat of Russian (and formerly Soviet) government, the main attraction is the churches. We went into all the ones that were open. They were pretty cool. 15th century murals looked great, for the most part. One of them was full of a Cartier exhibit. Many shiny diamonds. The platinum and diamond stuff seemed the most tasteful and least gaudy. It was the earliest stuff, naturally. The stuff from the 1960s, ugh. In another church, lots of dead tsars, though Ivan the Terrible was hidden behind some scaffolding-type stuff. The son he killed was in full view. Well, his coffin was anyway. A small choral group came into one of the churches and started singing. Not in Old Church Slavonic, but in Russian. They were awesome. And while the church occasionally falls down and they have to rebuild it, they sure knew how to acoustically tune the spaces.
After that, we went to the Armory, which is another museum on the grounds of the Kremlin. They have some very interesting things there. Lots of shiny things. Ivan the Terrible's throne. Peter the Great's (and Ivan, his brother, who died before becoming tsar) double coronation throne. Lots of crowns with mink and jewels. Katherine's carriages (rich people and their cars, things never change, do they?). Metal work (gold & silver, basically) from the 12th century onward.
We didn't know what to after four hours of Kremlin, so we searched again for the Georgian restaurant we looked for yesterday. We ended up finding it, and there was lots of stuff to eat (cauliflower!) and the price was actually reasonable. We had enough to take to the hostel for dinner.
Then, the afternoon's activity - searching for souvenirs. We walked back and forth on Arbat for hours. It's 1.5 km long, so it's not a bad walk, but we had time for some people watching and laughing at the outrageous prices for some things. A chess set for $3100. A fur hat (not nearly as nice as the one we got for Big Boy) for $500. Crazy.
We have to figure out what we want to do tomorrow, as it's our last day here. And then, traveling! We left on a Thursday morning and arrived in Russia on Saturday afternoon, with a 15 hour layover. Returning, we leave on a Tuesday morning and arrive on Wednesday evening, with a 24 hour layover in Dublin.
I will be SO fun at work next week! (Hi boss! Hi Kerstin!)
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Moscow - Day 4
We got to the gigantic, humongous, enormous flea market/outdoor mall. Wow. Huge. Got any other synonyms? It was basically a collection of individually rented booths crammed to the warehouse-high ceilings with stuff. All manner of stuff. Bicycles, underwear, jeans, fur coats, DVDs, books, jewelry, crappy plastic toys... Think the area of the entire state fair packed with stuff. And then more stuff. But strangely enough, not souvenirs. We'll have to resort to Arbat street.
The cool thing about the market was that everyone was foreign, so we were normal. There were Georgians, Chinese, Vietnamese, Russians of all types. We didn't hear English once, but for our own talking. There was also a lot of food we could eat.
Big Boy and I managed to negotiate an acceptable price for his new fur hat. The woman started out at 4400 руб and we got her down by more than half. She did at first mistake us for Russians, but then realized we were not and slowed down so I could understand more than half of what she was saying. She thought she wasn't getting enough money, we thought we were still paying too much, so it seems to have been a successful mediation. We're not sure what animal it is, but it's not mink. Nor is it rabbit. Or squirrel. But likely Big Boy will have to keep it out of the pooch's reach. And the kittens in the fall.
We then took about 12 metro trains to get to Dinamo stadium to watch a soccer game. After much walking back and forth to get the tickets, get some food, get something to drink, get some nuts, get to the correct entrance, we finally had our seats. It was a good game, with the home team getting robbed of two goals (at least one of which should have counted) and then scoring three more (one on a penalty kick) while shutting out the visiting Rostov team. Russians whistle when they disagree with a ref's call or the other team does something unsportmanlike. They can whistle really loudly. Especially the guy behind us. They also swear like sailors, so Big Boy tells me, but I couldn't catch any of the words.
After another 12 metro trains, we got back to our temporary home on Arbat. One of the managers here has become our friend. She claims to have more trouble with English than we have with Russian, but we seem to speak Russian most of the time, with a few forays into the dictionary. She is definitely one of the nice Russians we've met here. We're monopolizing her time, but we're all having fun, so it's all good.
There's a couple from Columbia who live in the Netherlands who are vacationing here. They were very surprised that we thought Muscovites are more friendly than those in St. Pete. They speak English, Spanish (which I can just barely follow, but can't think fast enough to talk) and they're learning Dutch. But no Russian. Signs have got to be a major pain. A German Chinese guy (German nationality, but Chinese ethnicity) came in to the hostel and I was helping to facilitate communication between the manager and him. His English was hard for her to understand and he doesn't speak any Russian. Afterwards, he says to me, "You have excellent English, where are you from?" Gee thanks. Umm... "America."
Tomorrow we're headed to the Kremlin. It had better not be closed this time.
The cool thing about the market was that everyone was foreign, so we were normal. There were Georgians, Chinese, Vietnamese, Russians of all types. We didn't hear English once, but for our own talking. There was also a lot of food we could eat.
Big Boy and I managed to negotiate an acceptable price for his new fur hat. The woman started out at 4400 руб and we got her down by more than half. She did at first mistake us for Russians, but then realized we were not and slowed down so I could understand more than half of what she was saying. She thought she wasn't getting enough money, we thought we were still paying too much, so it seems to have been a successful mediation. We're not sure what animal it is, but it's not mink. Nor is it rabbit. Or squirrel. But likely Big Boy will have to keep it out of the pooch's reach. And the kittens in the fall.
We then took about 12 metro trains to get to Dinamo stadium to watch a soccer game. After much walking back and forth to get the tickets, get some food, get something to drink, get some nuts, get to the correct entrance, we finally had our seats. It was a good game, with the home team getting robbed of two goals (at least one of which should have counted) and then scoring three more (one on a penalty kick) while shutting out the visiting Rostov team. Russians whistle when they disagree with a ref's call or the other team does something unsportmanlike. They can whistle really loudly. Especially the guy behind us. They also swear like sailors, so Big Boy tells me, but I couldn't catch any of the words.
After another 12 metro trains, we got back to our temporary home on Arbat. One of the managers here has become our friend. She claims to have more trouble with English than we have with Russian, but we seem to speak Russian most of the time, with a few forays into the dictionary. She is definitely one of the nice Russians we've met here. We're monopolizing her time, but we're all having fun, so it's all good.
There's a couple from Columbia who live in the Netherlands who are vacationing here. They were very surprised that we thought Muscovites are more friendly than those in St. Pete. They speak English, Spanish (which I can just barely follow, but can't think fast enough to talk) and they're learning Dutch. But no Russian. Signs have got to be a major pain. A German Chinese guy (German nationality, but Chinese ethnicity) came in to the hostel and I was helping to facilitate communication between the manager and him. His English was hard for her to understand and he doesn't speak any Russian. Afterwards, he says to me, "You have excellent English, where are you from?" Gee thanks. Umm... "America."
Tomorrow we're headed to the Kremlin. It had better not be closed this time.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Moscow - Day 3
Or, The Kremlin is Closed.
We are about a 15 minute walk to the eastern Kremlin gate. We got there before 10, when the gate is supposed to open. But, as we walked through the perekhod (absolutely necessary in a city where the drivers are so keen on getting as many pedestrian points as possible), there were police barring the way. We hung around for awhile, then walked up topside to see if we could find out what was going on. The entire street was closed and there were police every 10 feet or so completely barring the grounds, including ГУМ (GUM) and Red Square. It was closed until 3pm, but we still don't know why, maybe a VIP private tour, there were a few buses with some elderly people that left about the time they let people back on the grounds? I couldn't find out, either.
We decided instead to go to Kitay-Gorod, which is on the other side of the Kremlin. We didn't find too much, because by that time we were hungry again. We did, however, have an interesting surprise. As I was walking along, taking pictures of an interesting church roof, I noticed that Big Boy had stopped. He was talking to a group of 4 people. It turns out that Paul was in his homeroom! What a long way to come to see someone you know. We chatted for a bit and then they were on their way and so were we.
The first restaurant we found was ремонт (remont - being renovated). The second, well, it advertised itself as vegetarian, but there was meat on the menu. And our food words are still not good. We ended up with a mushroom risotto and a 4-cheese penne dish. Both were good, but too expensive.
We headed back toward Red Square with the intention of seeing the State Historical Museum. As they were just letting people back in to the area, the museum was pretty empty and we had a lot of the exhibits to ourselves. It had more stuff and fewer paintings. For that, we were thankful! After 3 hours of that, time for more food. Pizza this time, and pretty good, though not Punch good. And expensive again. So, to the 24 hour store for more bread and ice cream. Funny, I hardly ever eat bread at home, and here it's all I eat. Oh well.
We went out on Arbat to look for souvenirs. Big Boy found a soccer jersey he liked, so he bought it. I found a cool magnet for the fridge, some postcards of the metro (hi mom! I'm mailing it tomorrow, we'll see if it ever arrives! SO, you're getting one too!), and a little something for SO. Big Boy wants to go out carousing, but it's 10 and I'm tired, so I'm being mean and vetoing.
So, tomorrow we'll hit the flea market/souvenir crawl and try again to see the Kremlin on Sunday.
We are about a 15 minute walk to the eastern Kremlin gate. We got there before 10, when the gate is supposed to open. But, as we walked through the perekhod (absolutely necessary in a city where the drivers are so keen on getting as many pedestrian points as possible), there were police barring the way. We hung around for awhile, then walked up topside to see if we could find out what was going on. The entire street was closed and there were police every 10 feet or so completely barring the grounds, including ГУМ (GUM) and Red Square. It was closed until 3pm, but we still don't know why, maybe a VIP private tour, there were a few buses with some elderly people that left about the time they let people back on the grounds? I couldn't find out, either.
We decided instead to go to Kitay-Gorod, which is on the other side of the Kremlin. We didn't find too much, because by that time we were hungry again. We did, however, have an interesting surprise. As I was walking along, taking pictures of an interesting church roof, I noticed that Big Boy had stopped. He was talking to a group of 4 people. It turns out that Paul was in his homeroom! What a long way to come to see someone you know. We chatted for a bit and then they were on their way and so were we.
The first restaurant we found was ремонт (remont - being renovated). The second, well, it advertised itself as vegetarian, but there was meat on the menu. And our food words are still not good. We ended up with a mushroom risotto and a 4-cheese penne dish. Both were good, but too expensive.
We headed back toward Red Square with the intention of seeing the State Historical Museum. As they were just letting people back in to the area, the museum was pretty empty and we had a lot of the exhibits to ourselves. It had more stuff and fewer paintings. For that, we were thankful! After 3 hours of that, time for more food. Pizza this time, and pretty good, though not Punch good. And expensive again. So, to the 24 hour store for more bread and ice cream. Funny, I hardly ever eat bread at home, and here it's all I eat. Oh well.
We went out on Arbat to look for souvenirs. Big Boy found a soccer jersey he liked, so he bought it. I found a cool magnet for the fridge, some postcards of the metro (hi mom! I'm mailing it tomorrow, we'll see if it ever arrives! SO, you're getting one too!), and a little something for SO. Big Boy wants to go out carousing, but it's 10 and I'm tired, so I'm being mean and vetoing.
So, tomorrow we'll hit the flea market/souvenir crawl and try again to see the Kremlin on Sunday.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Moscow - Day 2
We waited around for a long time for the hostel manager to get in so we could arrange to have our visas registered. Having got that done, we set off for the Tretyakov Gallery. It looked easy to find by our map and after looking at the metro map and seeing that we'd have to change trains at least twice, we decided to walk.
We were not lost. We took a walking tour south of the Kremlin. A couple hours later, we found the gallery and both got in for student price. (Hey, I've got to take advantage of it while I can. It ain't gonna last forever.) The paintings were beautiful, the icons were impressive, I got to see more of my two favorite artists from the Hermitage. We also toured the church next door to the gallery. There was lots of shiny gold and some incense and a woman giving a tour in Italian.
Since we were close, we decided to check out Gorky Park. We took the metro this time. Big Boy thought it was kind of cool, but to me it was just a run down amusement park. We walked all over, from one end to another, and then left. There was one thing, though, that made me sad. They had a tiger who was passed out under an umbrella and a baby tiger on a leash who was meowing wanting to do something. Poor tigers.
Our theme for the week of American food chains continued with a visit to TGI Fridays. Onion rings, french fries, pasta with actual vegetables, and a Siberian Corona for me and a chocolate milkshake for Big Boy.
Then back to the hostel, but first, a walk up New Arbat street. Casinos, skateboarding kids (who skateboard with the same style as their parents drive), and people handing out advertising. We won't take that walk again. We got some cherries from a farmers' market on Old Arbat, 120 руб for a kilo. Hmm... what does that work out to? $4.90 for 2.2 lbs, so well. Not bad, and they were tasty.
Tomorrow, the Kremlin.
We were not lost. We took a walking tour south of the Kremlin. A couple hours later, we found the gallery and both got in for student price. (Hey, I've got to take advantage of it while I can. It ain't gonna last forever.) The paintings were beautiful, the icons were impressive, I got to see more of my two favorite artists from the Hermitage. We also toured the church next door to the gallery. There was lots of shiny gold and some incense and a woman giving a tour in Italian.
Since we were close, we decided to check out Gorky Park. We took the metro this time. Big Boy thought it was kind of cool, but to me it was just a run down amusement park. We walked all over, from one end to another, and then left. There was one thing, though, that made me sad. They had a tiger who was passed out under an umbrella and a baby tiger on a leash who was meowing wanting to do something. Poor tigers.
Our theme for the week of American food chains continued with a visit to TGI Fridays. Onion rings, french fries, pasta with actual vegetables, and a Siberian Corona for me and a chocolate milkshake for Big Boy.
Then back to the hostel, but first, a walk up New Arbat street. Casinos, skateboarding kids (who skateboard with the same style as their parents drive), and people handing out advertising. We won't take that walk again. We got some cherries from a farmers' market on Old Arbat, 120 руб for a kilo. Hmm... what does that work out to? $4.90 for 2.2 lbs, so well. Not bad, and they were tasty.
Tomorrow, the Kremlin.
Same country, but different cities = different people
Well it seems that Muscovites are much more accepting of tourists and foreigners in general than are St. Petersburgers. Although we still do stupid foreigner stuff, we've actually had more people be nice to us here in Moscow than in St. Pete.
On our first night in Moscow, as we were sitting on Old Arbat street eating our dinner of bread & cheese from the store up the street, an old guy walked up to us and said, "By the looks of you, you're either English or German." In perfect English. We said we were American, and he starts in on this story about some book about a Russian guy who tries to go to Minnesota (we'd told him we were from Minnesota) to meet up with his sister. He goes on & on and is actually quite interesting. After awhile, he offers to tell us another story about the statue next to which we're sitting, but we must know that he's on a pension, and lost all his money in the 90s when they revalued the ruble, and would we consider paying him for his stories. Well, he was a really nice charming old guy, so I gave him 100 руб and we said we had to leave. I'm not sure if I gave him too much or too little, but I may be wary of strangers with stories in the future.
I got a larger, less expensive coffee next door to the cheap-ish breakfast place on Thursday evening, and I actually got a laugh out of the cashier when she offered me two sugars and I asked for four (the instant coffee than I can make in the hostel is more palatable with Russian sugar). I guess she was surprised that I could count that high in Russian.
We got ice cream outside Red Square and although I pointed to the type I wanted and said chocolate in Russian, the woman was nice and smiling when I counted out the 70 руб, probably because I understood that she'd said "70" and that I could say please and thank you.
The people in Moscow seem more, well, American, than European. More diverse in style, color, shape, etc. More accepting of difference. And, as we'd heard about, but never yet experienced, appreciative of our efforts to speak Russian.
One other thing, though. As Tatiana, our landlady in St. Petersburg said, the Moscow drivers are absolutely crazy. They will hit you if you are in the crosswalk and they want to drive where you are trying to walk. In St. Pete, she said, the driver might still hit you, but at least they will feel guilty about it.
On our first night in Moscow, as we were sitting on Old Arbat street eating our dinner of bread & cheese from the store up the street, an old guy walked up to us and said, "By the looks of you, you're either English or German." In perfect English. We said we were American, and he starts in on this story about some book about a Russian guy who tries to go to Minnesota (we'd told him we were from Minnesota) to meet up with his sister. He goes on & on and is actually quite interesting. After awhile, he offers to tell us another story about the statue next to which we're sitting, but we must know that he's on a pension, and lost all his money in the 90s when they revalued the ruble, and would we consider paying him for his stories. Well, he was a really nice charming old guy, so I gave him 100 руб and we said we had to leave. I'm not sure if I gave him too much or too little, but I may be wary of strangers with stories in the future.
I got a larger, less expensive coffee next door to the cheap-ish breakfast place on Thursday evening, and I actually got a laugh out of the cashier when she offered me two sugars and I asked for four (the instant coffee than I can make in the hostel is more palatable with Russian sugar). I guess she was surprised that I could count that high in Russian.
We got ice cream outside Red Square and although I pointed to the type I wanted and said chocolate in Russian, the woman was nice and smiling when I counted out the 70 руб, probably because I understood that she'd said "70" and that I could say please and thank you.
The people in Moscow seem more, well, American, than European. More diverse in style, color, shape, etc. More accepting of difference. And, as we'd heard about, but never yet experienced, appreciative of our efforts to speak Russian.
One other thing, though. As Tatiana, our landlady in St. Petersburg said, the Moscow drivers are absolutely crazy. They will hit you if you are in the crosswalk and they want to drive where you are trying to walk. In St. Pete, she said, the driver might still hit you, but at least they will feel guilty about it.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Moscow - Day 1
Our train ride was an event. We got to the station on time, but stood in line way too long to get a pizza. But it was 11pm and we hadn't had dinner. Knowing that the food options on the train were not going to be attractive, we waited until 10:50 for the pizza. We got to our train car and the conductor was nice, joking that he wanted our pizza in addition to seeing our passports & tickets.
Our compartment was easily twice the size of the one SO & I had on the way to Seattle last year. As there was only one aisle in the car and a single row of compartments, there was more room to make them larger. The ceiling was high, one could easily sit up in the upper bunks. We'd bought lower bunks, so we stowed our backpacks in the steel bins under the bunks and started in on our pizza. It wasn't too long until a woman came along who was going to share our compartment and wanted to put her stuff under our bunks. That wasn't going to happen, and she wasn't happy about it. Then she wanted a lower bunk. Well. Sorry lady, this is Russia. You're a native, and you know darn well that if you don't ask for a lower bunk, you don't get one. We weren't moving. Besides, she was really giving us some passive-aggressive attitude, complaining in the hallway to the other woman who was going to be in our compartment, and even complaining to the conductor! She wasn't that old, probably had 5 years on me, if that. If she'd been nice at all, we'd have moved to the the upper bunks, it was darker up there.
So, crabby woman and her friend went off somewhere and we watched the forest roll by and the ruined dachas. The conductor came by to take our ticket stubs and he gave us the rules of the road: don't stand on the table, close the door whenever you want, and don't let anything bother you, indicating with his head that he was talking about crabby woman. That was funny.
Eventually we fell asleep, though I woke up every hour for some reason. The bunk was more comfy than the Amtrak bunk. We arrived in Moscow at 7am and started for the crush of the metro (17 руб, as opposed to 14 in St. Pete). They have larger and newer trains. We took the long way around to our stop near old Arbat. We found the hostel, stowed our backpacks, and set off to find breakfast. We located coffee and juice that didn't bankrupt us and bought some babkas from a woman selling them on the street. Yum. We wandered Arbat for awhile and then decided more food was necessary. We found some of that expensive Moscow food (~$5 for a tablespoon of cappuccino), but their breakfast menu was pretty cheap. We had eggs!
After actually checking into the hostel, we started wandering. There are dozens of souvenir booths all up and down Arbat. Some are dreadfully overpriced. We found the Kremlin, decided that it was something that would be best saved for tomorrow, then walked through Red Square, and set off on our traditional get lost in the new city thing. We went north this time. The camera ran out of batteries and there was no way I was going to pay $10 for new ones (in the camera & phone store). I finally found some in a perekhod for $3.
Speaking of perekhods, Moscow's have St. Pete's beat by a mile or 2. There was an entire underground mall, on the order of Mall of America, two levels under the ground. And the mall was went down 3 more stories!
Finally, after hours & hours of walking, we decided we needed food. We gave into homesickness and went to Hard Rock Cafe across the street from the hostel. We got fries and nachos. The jalapeños were just tangy, not spicy, but we were happy. Then to the hostel to make a plan with the guidebook. But we were sleepy. So we took a nap. Now it's nearly 9 and I'm blogging and downloading pictures to my USB drive so that we can take 841 more.
little boy goes to camp tomorrow. I hope he has a great trip! I haven't gotten to call home at all because the calling card I got doesn't work. We've emailed, though. And I've sent text messages, but haven't gotten any replies.
I have noticed that the Russians in Moscow are not as given to staring at foreigners as they are in St. Pete. They seem friendlier, too. Well, off to make a plan and get those pix off the camera!
Our compartment was easily twice the size of the one SO & I had on the way to Seattle last year. As there was only one aisle in the car and a single row of compartments, there was more room to make them larger. The ceiling was high, one could easily sit up in the upper bunks. We'd bought lower bunks, so we stowed our backpacks in the steel bins under the bunks and started in on our pizza. It wasn't too long until a woman came along who was going to share our compartment and wanted to put her stuff under our bunks. That wasn't going to happen, and she wasn't happy about it. Then she wanted a lower bunk. Well. Sorry lady, this is Russia. You're a native, and you know darn well that if you don't ask for a lower bunk, you don't get one. We weren't moving. Besides, she was really giving us some passive-aggressive attitude, complaining in the hallway to the other woman who was going to be in our compartment, and even complaining to the conductor! She wasn't that old, probably had 5 years on me, if that. If she'd been nice at all, we'd have moved to the the upper bunks, it was darker up there.
So, crabby woman and her friend went off somewhere and we watched the forest roll by and the ruined dachas. The conductor came by to take our ticket stubs and he gave us the rules of the road: don't stand on the table, close the door whenever you want, and don't let anything bother you, indicating with his head that he was talking about crabby woman. That was funny.
Eventually we fell asleep, though I woke up every hour for some reason. The bunk was more comfy than the Amtrak bunk. We arrived in Moscow at 7am and started for the crush of the metro (17 руб, as opposed to 14 in St. Pete). They have larger and newer trains. We took the long way around to our stop near old Arbat. We found the hostel, stowed our backpacks, and set off to find breakfast. We located coffee and juice that didn't bankrupt us and bought some babkas from a woman selling them on the street. Yum. We wandered Arbat for awhile and then decided more food was necessary. We found some of that expensive Moscow food (~$5 for a tablespoon of cappuccino), but their breakfast menu was pretty cheap. We had eggs!
After actually checking into the hostel, we started wandering. There are dozens of souvenir booths all up and down Arbat. Some are dreadfully overpriced. We found the Kremlin, decided that it was something that would be best saved for tomorrow, then walked through Red Square, and set off on our traditional get lost in the new city thing. We went north this time. The camera ran out of batteries and there was no way I was going to pay $10 for new ones (in the camera & phone store). I finally found some in a perekhod for $3.
Speaking of perekhods, Moscow's have St. Pete's beat by a mile or 2. There was an entire underground mall, on the order of Mall of America, two levels under the ground. And the mall was went down 3 more stories!
Finally, after hours & hours of walking, we decided we needed food. We gave into homesickness and went to Hard Rock Cafe across the street from the hostel. We got fries and nachos. The jalapeños were just tangy, not spicy, but we were happy. Then to the hostel to make a plan with the guidebook. But we were sleepy. So we took a nap. Now it's nearly 9 and I'm blogging and downloading pictures to my USB drive so that we can take 841 more.
little boy goes to camp tomorrow. I hope he has a great trip! I haven't gotten to call home at all because the calling card I got doesn't work. We've emailed, though. And I've sent text messages, but haven't gotten any replies.
I have noticed that the Russians in Moscow are not as given to staring at foreigners as they are in St. Pete. They seem friendlier, too. Well, off to make a plan and get those pix off the camera!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
St. Petersburg - Last day
We set off for the Museum of the History of St. Petersburg (Музей историй санкт-петербурга), which was supposed to have a good exhibit about the blockade from 1941-43. I can't find a link to the museum, but it was nice. Once we found it. We were about the only people wandering through this old palace. We both got in for the student price. The woman was actually nice to us - but this is not a theme for the day.
There was a really sad display of a girl's diary. She lived from 1930-1944. The pages of her diary were really simple, so I could read them easily. "Today, [date], Uncle died." Another page: "Mama died." They all starved to death during the siege.
There was another display of a woman's passport photos during about a 10 year span - before the war, during the siege, and after the war. In the first photo the woman had dark hair and looked like she was in her mid-40s (bear in mind that this was during the 1940s and I really have no idea how old people were then... she could have been 35). In the second picture, she looked at least 20 years older. In the last picture, she looked like she was in her late 70s. The transformation was very eerie.
After the museum, we walked off to try to find the main post office and mail some postcards. We'll see if they ever arrive at their intended destinations. We did eventually find the post office, on Post Office Street, across the Moika River on the Post Office Bridge. I snuck three pictures inside the post office, until I got caught by a guard who said gruffly but indifferently, "Нельзя фотографировать!" (Photography is forbidden!) Oops.
Then we walked around some more. We tried to go to the Bread Museum, but it was already closed. Then we looked for the Arctic/Antarctic Museum, and although it was still open, it was scary. It was a completely hazardous looking construction zone. I took pix for SO. Their safety standards wouldn't even come close to OSHA.
Then we figured we were hungry and tried to get some food. But we were too tired to read Russian and did the obnoxious American tourist thing of not even trying to speak Russian. Oh well. Several snacks later, we walked all the way down Nevsky Prospect to the Nevsky Monastery. There's a metro station there, so we caught it back to the apartment. We went into a store that's next to the 24 hour store and got Big Boy a belt. It was only $6, as opposed to the fake leather belts they were hawking at Peter & Paul Fortress for 500 rubles.
Our train leaves the Moscow train station at 11:15pm. We have time to scrounge for food before we go.
There was a really sad display of a girl's diary. She lived from 1930-1944. The pages of her diary were really simple, so I could read them easily. "Today, [date], Uncle died." Another page: "Mama died." They all starved to death during the siege.
There was another display of a woman's passport photos during about a 10 year span - before the war, during the siege, and after the war. In the first photo the woman had dark hair and looked like she was in her mid-40s (bear in mind that this was during the 1940s and I really have no idea how old people were then... she could have been 35). In the second picture, she looked at least 20 years older. In the last picture, she looked like she was in her late 70s. The transformation was very eerie.
After the museum, we walked off to try to find the main post office and mail some postcards. We'll see if they ever arrive at their intended destinations. We did eventually find the post office, on Post Office Street, across the Moika River on the Post Office Bridge. I snuck three pictures inside the post office, until I got caught by a guard who said gruffly but indifferently, "Нельзя фотографировать!" (Photography is forbidden!) Oops.
Then we walked around some more. We tried to go to the Bread Museum, but it was already closed. Then we looked for the Arctic/Antarctic Museum, and although it was still open, it was scary. It was a completely hazardous looking construction zone. I took pix for SO. Their safety standards wouldn't even come close to OSHA.
Then we figured we were hungry and tried to get some food. But we were too tired to read Russian and did the obnoxious American tourist thing of not even trying to speak Russian. Oh well. Several snacks later, we walked all the way down Nevsky Prospect to the Nevsky Monastery. There's a metro station there, so we caught it back to the apartment. We went into a store that's next to the 24 hour store and got Big Boy a belt. It was only $6, as opposed to the fake leather belts they were hawking at Peter & Paul Fortress for 500 rubles.
Our train leaves the Moscow train station at 11:15pm. We have time to scrounge for food before we go.
Monday, June 18, 2007
St. Petersburg - Day 9
Well, everyone slept late today because it was raining which meant it was relatively dark. I did the laundry and looked for indoor things to do because I did not want to be tromping around palace parks in the rain.
We decided on the Zoology Museum. Go ahead, click on the link. Looks relatively normal, doesn't it? Sure it does. Well. The guidebook said to go to a metro station that was NOT close. It looks like it's close on a map, but it is not. This museum is pretty much directly across the Neva River from the Hermitage. If they'd told us that, we would not have spent so long trying to find it. By the time we did, poor Big Boy was starving. He got a chocolate babka and I got a potato pirog from a cart down the street from the museum entrance.
We went in and the weirdness started. First, squat toilets. I will comment no further. After lots of hand sanitizer, we found a small cafe on the left as you entered, advertising "fresh hot Russian donuts." Well, we weren't going to pass that up! We waited in line and got four of them. Yum!
There were lots of stuffed animals. The mammoths were sort of cool. There was a stuffed pointer. Although this museum dates to the 1800s, it seemed to be a completely 1950s-era experience. Soviet all the way. There were art students drawing the animals. Lots of them were good. There was a "live insect zoo" on the second floor. We peeked in, but didn't pay extra to see a small room full of bugs. There were lots of dead insects to see in the part we'd already paid for.
We'd had enough, so we walked to the sports stadium. It was raining, but not a whole lot. They wouldn't let us get close enough to see anything. The soccer team Big Boy wanted to see play had only two dates in June at that location and neither was when we are here.
We thought we'd tour metro stations, but by 5pm it was too crowded for it to be any fun. We went back downtown and went inside the Kazan Cathedral. It was cool inside and some sort of service was going on, but there were tourists milling about anyway. We looked for a place to eat, but the one we had in mind was only open from 12-5. So, we went across the street to where I saw a Guinness sign. They had food we could eat, and yes, I paid $9 for a pint of Guinness. It was so good!
We sat out in the park in the Yusupov Garden for awhile, then headed for the apartment. Sadly, our roomies got pickpocketed on the subway today. They're a little traumatized. They lost a driver's license, $250, a credit card, and a migration card.
We decided on the Zoology Museum. Go ahead, click on the link. Looks relatively normal, doesn't it? Sure it does. Well. The guidebook said to go to a metro station that was NOT close. It looks like it's close on a map, but it is not. This museum is pretty much directly across the Neva River from the Hermitage. If they'd told us that, we would not have spent so long trying to find it. By the time we did, poor Big Boy was starving. He got a chocolate babka and I got a potato pirog from a cart down the street from the museum entrance.
We went in and the weirdness started. First, squat toilets. I will comment no further. After lots of hand sanitizer, we found a small cafe on the left as you entered, advertising "fresh hot Russian donuts." Well, we weren't going to pass that up! We waited in line and got four of them. Yum!
There were lots of stuffed animals. The mammoths were sort of cool. There was a stuffed pointer. Although this museum dates to the 1800s, it seemed to be a completely 1950s-era experience. Soviet all the way. There were art students drawing the animals. Lots of them were good. There was a "live insect zoo" on the second floor. We peeked in, but didn't pay extra to see a small room full of bugs. There were lots of dead insects to see in the part we'd already paid for.
We'd had enough, so we walked to the sports stadium. It was raining, but not a whole lot. They wouldn't let us get close enough to see anything. The soccer team Big Boy wanted to see play had only two dates in June at that location and neither was when we are here.
We thought we'd tour metro stations, but by 5pm it was too crowded for it to be any fun. We went back downtown and went inside the Kazan Cathedral. It was cool inside and some sort of service was going on, but there were tourists milling about anyway. We looked for a place to eat, but the one we had in mind was only open from 12-5. So, we went across the street to where I saw a Guinness sign. They had food we could eat, and yes, I paid $9 for a pint of Guinness. It was so good!
We sat out in the park in the Yusupov Garden for awhile, then headed for the apartment. Sadly, our roomies got pickpocketed on the subway today. They're a little traumatized. They lost a driver's license, $250, a credit card, and a migration card.
More random stuff
Well. Time for a random entry.
We've seen quite a few deaf Russians on the metro. Russian sign is completely incomprehensible to me, and I am still able to follow a simple ASL conversation or eavesdrop a bit. Russians also spell with both hands, not one. Weird.
Hardly anyone wears shorts.
Cell phone recharging machines are everywhere. In the train stations, in the metro stations, in the perekhod, on the street... There are cell phone stores everywhere, too. They have way more phone options and way cooler phones than we do in the US.
On the subject of safety, it occurred to me that my mother might be worrying about me walking back to the apartment alone at 1:15am. Fear not. It appears to be safer here than in my own neighborhood. For instance, I wouldn't feel really completely safe running on the Gateway Trail by myself without either the pooch or my pepper spray. But running in the park across the street? The only reason people even look at me is because I'm a foreigner. Anyone with bad intentions is either still asleep or drinking his breakfast.
One of the cashiers at the 24 hour store was actually nice to me on my way back to the apartment last night. They've been singularly unimpressed and quite annoyed by our presence, or so it seems. We've gotten yelled at at least three times for doing something wrong. But last night, I said hello to the clerk in Russian as I walked in. She looked surprised and said hi back. Then I was looking for plain water (they have both вода без газа (still or plain water) and вода с газом (water with gas or "funny water" in my family's language) and the bottles are identical but for a little writing underneath the brand name. I was tired and couldn't find the right kind of water. So as I was muttering to myself in Russian, "without gas, without gas," she actually came over and found the right stuff for me! Unprecedented. Then I tried to make the right change and she helped me out with that, too. But then today, another clerk yelled at us for keeping the freezer open when we were deciding on ice cream, so it all evens out, I guess.
The 24 hour stores. They're called 24 часа Продукты, which is basically what it looks like. They have a little bit of everything and a lot of booze. When we were waiting at the train station for Big Boy's friend, we thought we'd go into a nearby store to get something to eat. So we walk in and a grumpy clerk (? is this a theme?) yells at us. We look at her. She says, "Закрыто!" Closed! Ok. The 24 hour store is closed. We must have arrived at the 25th hour or something.
Change. They hate making change. I don't know why. Of course, the ATMs all put out 500 or 1000 ruble notes, but no one wants to take them and give you change. But if you go to the metro, they have to give you change and for some reason can't give you a hard time about paying for 5 tokens (70 rubles) with a 1000 ruble note.
Identification. The only time I've been asked for my passport was for ID when I wanted to use my credit card at a mall. The guidebook says carry your passport with you at all times in a money belt. Our new friend Tara in Moscow said carry it with you everywhere. Our landlady, Tatiana, says no one carries their passport, no one will hassle you, just carry your migration card with you (slip of paper that shows your visa is registered in the city you are visiting). You must show your passport when you buy train tickets, so I've been carrying them with me since Saturday. Well. The only people we've seen getting their papers checked were a couple of darker skinned men in the metro. The police were looking at their passports and some papers and the men looked a little nervous.
We've seen quite a few deaf Russians on the metro. Russian sign is completely incomprehensible to me, and I am still able to follow a simple ASL conversation or eavesdrop a bit. Russians also spell with both hands, not one. Weird.
Hardly anyone wears shorts.
Cell phone recharging machines are everywhere. In the train stations, in the metro stations, in the perekhod, on the street... There are cell phone stores everywhere, too. They have way more phone options and way cooler phones than we do in the US.
On the subject of safety, it occurred to me that my mother might be worrying about me walking back to the apartment alone at 1:15am. Fear not. It appears to be safer here than in my own neighborhood. For instance, I wouldn't feel really completely safe running on the Gateway Trail by myself without either the pooch or my pepper spray. But running in the park across the street? The only reason people even look at me is because I'm a foreigner. Anyone with bad intentions is either still asleep or drinking his breakfast.
One of the cashiers at the 24 hour store was actually nice to me on my way back to the apartment last night. They've been singularly unimpressed and quite annoyed by our presence, or so it seems. We've gotten yelled at at least three times for doing something wrong. But last night, I said hello to the clerk in Russian as I walked in. She looked surprised and said hi back. Then I was looking for plain water (they have both вода без газа (still or plain water) and вода с газом (water with gas or "funny water" in my family's language) and the bottles are identical but for a little writing underneath the brand name. I was tired and couldn't find the right kind of water. So as I was muttering to myself in Russian, "without gas, without gas," she actually came over and found the right stuff for me! Unprecedented. Then I tried to make the right change and she helped me out with that, too. But then today, another clerk yelled at us for keeping the freezer open when we were deciding on ice cream, so it all evens out, I guess.
The 24 hour stores. They're called 24 часа Продукты, which is basically what it looks like. They have a little bit of everything and a lot of booze. When we were waiting at the train station for Big Boy's friend, we thought we'd go into a nearby store to get something to eat. So we walk in and a grumpy clerk (? is this a theme?) yells at us. We look at her. She says, "Закрыто!" Closed! Ok. The 24 hour store is closed. We must have arrived at the 25th hour or something.
Change. They hate making change. I don't know why. Of course, the ATMs all put out 500 or 1000 ruble notes, but no one wants to take them and give you change. But if you go to the metro, they have to give you change and for some reason can't give you a hard time about paying for 5 tokens (70 rubles) with a 1000 ruble note.
Identification. The only time I've been asked for my passport was for ID when I wanted to use my credit card at a mall. The guidebook says carry your passport with you at all times in a money belt. Our new friend Tara in Moscow said carry it with you everywhere. Our landlady, Tatiana, says no one carries their passport, no one will hassle you, just carry your migration card with you (slip of paper that shows your visa is registered in the city you are visiting). You must show your passport when you buy train tickets, so I've been carrying them with me since Saturday. Well. The only people we've seen getting their papers checked were a couple of darker skinned men in the metro. The police were looking at their passports and some papers and the men looked a little nervous.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
St. Petersburg - Day 8
I got up early for 10k around the park. There was indeed some partying last night, the place was loaded with trash & Baltika bottles. The cleaning trucks hadn't yet been through when I was out at 7:30.
We tried to meet up with Anne for a trip to Peterhof. But between her missing the last metro last night and my cell phone running out of money so it couldn't accept calls, we ended up sitting around the train station for an hour. I did learn how to recharge the phone, though. They have these cool ATM-like machines where you choose your service on a touch screen, punch in your phone number, put in money, and there you go, more minutes. Take that, Cingular!
So we went downtown to get some breakfast (yay blini! yay lingonberry jam!) and catch the boat to Peterhof which loads on the embankment behind the Hermitage. I'm not sure how, but I managed to get us the regular rate ($24 for the both of us) for the boat, not the foreigner rate (which was more expensive, of course, $18 for adults, $14 for students). It certainly wasn't my dazzling Russian. I was pretty mushmouthed with the talking today. So, we cruised the Gulf of Finland for half an hour to get to the grounds.
It was a madhouse. There's a lot of area, but there were thousands of people there. It was still a nice day when we arrived, although the forecast was for 60ish and rain all day. We walked around to look at the fountains, but didn't pay extra to go into any of the reconstructed palaces. [The Germans used the site for quarters, then bombed it before getting kicked out in WWII.] We walked along the gulf path in the woods and it was nice, since most of the people were swarming the fountains and palace. As we walked through the upper gardens, the wind shifted and it started to rain. We walked to the bus stop and caught a bus back to the metro line ($3 for the both of us, then about 50 cents each for the metro which is 14 rubles a token).
We headed to The Idiot for food & chess, but I was low on rubles. We were stupid again and walked for nearly an hour looking for a cash machine. Big Boy beat me every time today at chess. Unfun. It wasn't even 8pm by the time we were done and we didn't know what to do with ourselves. We decided to see a movie. Ocean's 13. Dubbed in Russian. I followed the plot, but the sad part is that I felt like I understood the Spanish dialog better than the Russian. I guess I'm just tired today.
We met the roomies while walking on Nevsky. They managed to get train tickets by going to a travel agency. I just saw them pop their heads into the internet cafe here. It's almost 1am.
We tried to meet up with Anne for a trip to Peterhof. But between her missing the last metro last night and my cell phone running out of money so it couldn't accept calls, we ended up sitting around the train station for an hour. I did learn how to recharge the phone, though. They have these cool ATM-like machines where you choose your service on a touch screen, punch in your phone number, put in money, and there you go, more minutes. Take that, Cingular!
So we went downtown to get some breakfast (yay blini! yay lingonberry jam!) and catch the boat to Peterhof which loads on the embankment behind the Hermitage. I'm not sure how, but I managed to get us the regular rate ($24 for the both of us) for the boat, not the foreigner rate (which was more expensive, of course, $18 for adults, $14 for students). It certainly wasn't my dazzling Russian. I was pretty mushmouthed with the talking today. So, we cruised the Gulf of Finland for half an hour to get to the grounds.
It was a madhouse. There's a lot of area, but there were thousands of people there. It was still a nice day when we arrived, although the forecast was for 60ish and rain all day. We walked around to look at the fountains, but didn't pay extra to go into any of the reconstructed palaces. [The Germans used the site for quarters, then bombed it before getting kicked out in WWII.] We walked along the gulf path in the woods and it was nice, since most of the people were swarming the fountains and palace. As we walked through the upper gardens, the wind shifted and it started to rain. We walked to the bus stop and caught a bus back to the metro line ($3 for the both of us, then about 50 cents each for the metro which is 14 rubles a token).
We headed to The Idiot for food & chess, but I was low on rubles. We were stupid again and walked for nearly an hour looking for a cash machine. Big Boy beat me every time today at chess. Unfun. It wasn't even 8pm by the time we were done and we didn't know what to do with ourselves. We decided to see a movie. Ocean's 13. Dubbed in Russian. I followed the plot, but the sad part is that I felt like I understood the Spanish dialog better than the Russian. I guess I'm just tired today.
We met the roomies while walking on Nevsky. They managed to get train tickets by going to a travel agency. I just saw them pop their heads into the internet cafe here. It's almost 1am.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
St. Petersburg - Day 7
So, I dragged myself out of bed this morning to run. I put on some Green Day and ran 10k around the park (click on Hybrid in the upper right hand corner of the map for the best view). I got Big Boy up for our excursion to the Hermitage.
We took the metro to Nevsky Prospect and walked the wrong way down the street, towards the train station instead of the Hermitage. Oh well, train ticket errand first, museum second. I'd checked out what was still available while at the internet cafe last night (coincidentally, it's where I am right this minute) and had an idea in mind of what I wanted to buy and how much it cost. But, to be safe, I wrote it down in Russian on a piece of paper. We walked into the ticket "office" (more like a museum exhibit hall, it was HUGE) and waited for around an hour in line with hundreds of other people. Big Boy was a little out of sorts because he was hungry and well, out of sorts. We waited. And waited. Finally, it was our turn. I think it was lucky that I picked a line (window 18) that had a ticket agent who was in her 20s. She didn't look at crabby as some of the other agents! I told her that I needed 2 tickets to Moscow for Tuesday. Then she asked me what time and what train and I said that I wrote it down because I can write, it's just hard for me to understand. She smiled and took my note and our passports. She looked up the train, and I asked her if the seats were still available and she said yes. We got the paying thing all done (~$150) and had our tickets and we were off! It was way less painful and scary than I'd been led to believe.
To breakfast. We stopped at Teremok (Теремок), a place with all manner of blini. I got mine with honey, Big Boy got chocolate & banana (called "tropical" for some reason). Again, I'm all over the Russian, Big Boy stands there and looks good. I can't tell what they say back to me until it's way too late, but I can read, write, and tell them what I want.
We stopped to change some money. I waited forever while one guy took over a foreign bank or something. Then an early 50something woman got into line behind me and was talking up the guard. I knew she wanted to skip me in line, but didn't know enough crabby talk to tell her off. So I was snarky instead (surprise!). She does indeed skip me, takes forEVER, and as she walks past me, I say to the guard in Russian, "Very important babushka, yes?" Well, she obviously thought she was important, and also babushka is a term reserved for what one would really consider an old grandmother-pensioner type, which this woman was not. So, I got to register my complaint and slam her at the same time.
On to the Hermitage. Students get in free, I paid 350 руб, and stupidly paid 100 more for the right to take pictures. Everyone was taking pictures. No one was checking picture-tickets. I'd read this was true, but didn't go with it. Oh well, four bucks down the drain. Hermitage is enormous, overwhelming, beautiful and exhausting. We were there for almost five hours and couldn't take a minute more. We saw the only Michaelangelo in Russia (a smallish marble statue), Titian, lots of Rubens, lots of Dutch & Flemish art. I think the both of us liked the palace itself the best. The walls (marble wainscoting!), floors (parquet, terazzo, marble!), ceilings (vaulted, super high, painted, otherwise insanely ornate!). We liked the tour groups the least. Big Boy got hollered at for trying to crash an Italian tour group. But if he'd said, "We don't understand either Russian or Italian! We can't listen!" I think everything would have been alright. The tour guide was unhappy with him. It was kind of funny.
We went to Tandoori Nights again for dinner. Yum. They were nice. It turns out our roomies went to the other Indian place half a block away. They got home shortly after us... umm... rather blotto. The father comes in to our room and says, "Everything you hear about Russians is true!" Apparently, they were sitting in a park and some Russians invited them to drink vodka with them. Uh huh. Sure. THEY meet nice drunk Russians who want to share and we only get the cranky ones. That's fair.
My co-worker buddy Kerstin kicked the marathon's butt. WAY TO GO!
Tomorrow we're meeting Big Boy's friend Anne for a trip to Peterhof. The weather is supposed to be crappy, though. I've got just a minute or two here at the internet cafe and it's 11:30pm, so I'd best get going!
We took the metro to Nevsky Prospect and walked the wrong way down the street, towards the train station instead of the Hermitage. Oh well, train ticket errand first, museum second. I'd checked out what was still available while at the internet cafe last night (coincidentally, it's where I am right this minute) and had an idea in mind of what I wanted to buy and how much it cost. But, to be safe, I wrote it down in Russian on a piece of paper. We walked into the ticket "office" (more like a museum exhibit hall, it was HUGE) and waited for around an hour in line with hundreds of other people. Big Boy was a little out of sorts because he was hungry and well, out of sorts. We waited. And waited. Finally, it was our turn. I think it was lucky that I picked a line (window 18) that had a ticket agent who was in her 20s. She didn't look at crabby as some of the other agents! I told her that I needed 2 tickets to Moscow for Tuesday. Then she asked me what time and what train and I said that I wrote it down because I can write, it's just hard for me to understand. She smiled and took my note and our passports. She looked up the train, and I asked her if the seats were still available and she said yes. We got the paying thing all done (~$150) and had our tickets and we were off! It was way less painful and scary than I'd been led to believe.
To breakfast. We stopped at Teremok (Теремок), a place with all manner of blini. I got mine with honey, Big Boy got chocolate & banana (called "tropical" for some reason). Again, I'm all over the Russian, Big Boy stands there and looks good. I can't tell what they say back to me until it's way too late, but I can read, write, and tell them what I want.
We stopped to change some money. I waited forever while one guy took over a foreign bank or something. Then an early 50something woman got into line behind me and was talking up the guard. I knew she wanted to skip me in line, but didn't know enough crabby talk to tell her off. So I was snarky instead (surprise!). She does indeed skip me, takes forEVER, and as she walks past me, I say to the guard in Russian, "Very important babushka, yes?" Well, she obviously thought she was important, and also babushka is a term reserved for what one would really consider an old grandmother-pensioner type, which this woman was not. So, I got to register my complaint and slam her at the same time.
On to the Hermitage. Students get in free, I paid 350 руб, and stupidly paid 100 more for the right to take pictures. Everyone was taking pictures. No one was checking picture-tickets. I'd read this was true, but didn't go with it. Oh well, four bucks down the drain. Hermitage is enormous, overwhelming, beautiful and exhausting. We were there for almost five hours and couldn't take a minute more. We saw the only Michaelangelo in Russia (a smallish marble statue), Titian, lots of Rubens, lots of Dutch & Flemish art. I think the both of us liked the palace itself the best. The walls (marble wainscoting!), floors (parquet, terazzo, marble!), ceilings (vaulted, super high, painted, otherwise insanely ornate!). We liked the tour groups the least. Big Boy got hollered at for trying to crash an Italian tour group. But if he'd said, "We don't understand either Russian or Italian! We can't listen!" I think everything would have been alright. The tour guide was unhappy with him. It was kind of funny.
We went to Tandoori Nights again for dinner. Yum. They were nice. It turns out our roomies went to the other Indian place half a block away. They got home shortly after us... umm... rather blotto. The father comes in to our room and says, "Everything you hear about Russians is true!" Apparently, they were sitting in a park and some Russians invited them to drink vodka with them. Uh huh. Sure. THEY meet nice drunk Russians who want to share and we only get the cranky ones. That's fair.
My co-worker buddy Kerstin kicked the marathon's butt. WAY TO GO!
Tomorrow we're meeting Big Boy's friend Anne for a trip to Peterhof. The weather is supposed to be crappy, though. I've got just a minute or two here at the internet cafe and it's 11:30pm, so I'd best get going!
Friday, June 15, 2007
St. Petersburg - Day 6
Today we were out bright and early, well, 11:30ish. We met Big Boy's friend, Anne, from school. She's been living here since last fall. She first very kindly led us to a mall on the edge of town because it was freezing and we needed some sweatshirts. Fun! (little boy, guess what? new souvenir) The wind here would give South Dakota something to think about. We also got some snacks at the grocery store.
Our original plan had been to tour the Aleksandr Nevsky Monastery Cemetery, but it was too cold and windy, so we checked out the Museum of Political History. When asked for a comment on this museum, Big Boy said, "There was a lot of political history." It was pretty interesting, mostly if you're into soviet history.
After several hours here, we left and found that the sun was out again, so we set off for the cemetery. Anne & Big Boy got student discounts, we had the usual confusion over numbers and money, and then the ticket woman asked if I was a student, too. Now THAT, I understood! I said, no, but thank you anyway. We went into the left side first, which was filled with lots of, well, cemetery plots and large ornate headstones. No one we'd really heard of, though. Then, to the right side, where we found Dostoevsky, Tchaikovsky, Glinka, Mussorgsky, and finally, Rimsky-Korsakov, who was hiding. Right out there in the open, but with a weird style of writing on his tomb that we didn't recognize until we deliberately looked for it (and used the map).
After the cemetery romp, Anne headed for home, and Big Boy and I meandered up Nevsky Prospect. Surprising, I know. We stopped in a post office and bought a couple of post cards. The cashier wanted more exact change than we had, so she was grumpy. We ended up at The Idiot, for dinner & chess. Then we went to 505, which is a CD/DVD store, to look for cultural enlightenment. We settled for another DVD on Oksana's list and a couple of movies for Big Boy.
It sounds like we didn't do much today, but we've been on the go since 11:15 am and it's twelve hours later as I blog this. When we got back to the apartment, our roomies were crashed out in their room and as our new movies are loud with gunshots and car chases, we decided to go to the internet cafe that's around the block.
Tomorrow, we're headed to the Hermitage. We also have to buy train tickets, as we're leaving for Moscow on Tuesday night. I have the train info with me, but I forgot our passports, which we'll need to buy the tickets.
As tomorrow is Saturday, it's my co-worker buddy Kerstin's first marathon! She's dedicated mile 23 to me (am I that tiresome?) and I'll be thinking of her while we're looking at art. But, given that we're 9 hours ahead of the midwest, perhaps that won't be particularly helpful. At any rate, good luck Kerstin!
Our original plan had been to tour the Aleksandr Nevsky Monastery Cemetery, but it was too cold and windy, so we checked out the Museum of Political History. When asked for a comment on this museum, Big Boy said, "There was a lot of political history." It was pretty interesting, mostly if you're into soviet history.
After several hours here, we left and found that the sun was out again, so we set off for the cemetery. Anne & Big Boy got student discounts, we had the usual confusion over numbers and money, and then the ticket woman asked if I was a student, too. Now THAT, I understood! I said, no, but thank you anyway. We went into the left side first, which was filled with lots of, well, cemetery plots and large ornate headstones. No one we'd really heard of, though. Then, to the right side, where we found Dostoevsky, Tchaikovsky, Glinka, Mussorgsky, and finally, Rimsky-Korsakov, who was hiding. Right out there in the open, but with a weird style of writing on his tomb that we didn't recognize until we deliberately looked for it (and used the map).
After the cemetery romp, Anne headed for home, and Big Boy and I meandered up Nevsky Prospect. Surprising, I know. We stopped in a post office and bought a couple of post cards. The cashier wanted more exact change than we had, so she was grumpy. We ended up at The Idiot, for dinner & chess. Then we went to 505, which is a CD/DVD store, to look for cultural enlightenment. We settled for another DVD on Oksana's list and a couple of movies for Big Boy.
It sounds like we didn't do much today, but we've been on the go since 11:15 am and it's twelve hours later as I blog this. When we got back to the apartment, our roomies were crashed out in their room and as our new movies are loud with gunshots and car chases, we decided to go to the internet cafe that's around the block.
Tomorrow, we're headed to the Hermitage. We also have to buy train tickets, as we're leaving for Moscow on Tuesday night. I have the train info with me, but I forgot our passports, which we'll need to buy the tickets.
As tomorrow is Saturday, it's my co-worker buddy Kerstin's first marathon! She's dedicated mile 23 to me (am I that tiresome?) and I'll be thinking of her while we're looking at art. But, given that we're 9 hours ahead of the midwest, perhaps that won't be particularly helpful. At any rate, good luck Kerstin!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Various oddities
When we were in the military store the other day, there were some boys in full Russian army uniform buying things they apparently needed. Not a single one of them looked older than Big Boy, in fact, most of them looked like they were little boy's age (~15). Scary that they would be in the army that young.
The metro has the longest imaginable escalators. (link is to a YouTube video of a metro experience, don't click if you're on dial up (hi SO! hi little boy! miss you!)) The metro also seems to be the official make out spot for all Russians under 30. I know how to yell, "Get a room!" but the thing is they probably don't have one. Population density is pretty dense here.
Another cool thing we saw in a perekhod (переход) in Moscow was a group of orchestra musicians playing one of Vivaldi's Seasons. I was so blown away by it that I didn't even register which season it was! But I finally had the presence of mind to record it on my phone. So, perhaps little boy can hear it when we come home. Other things you see for sale in a perekhod - sodas of all types, cigarettes (but strangely enough, one of the few places that smoking is actually prohibited is the perekhod. and the metro, and the metro stations, thank goodness.), all manner of souvenirs, books, magazines, underwear & nylons (fishnets seem to be particularly popular here), wallets, purses, belts.
We saw some guys who we thought looked like vampires today. (I have a picture, but I can't upload it yet.) One wore two different types of pinstripes and carried a sumka (сумка), which is pretty much like the camera bag that I'm carrying. The other one, who was even blonder and paler, was carrying a man-purse.
Men also wear capris here, more so than do the women, whose style of dress I have already discussed. But hey, I lived through the 80s, I know how hard it is to exist when wearing pants that tight. I thought the world had moved beyond this cruel fashion. Sadly, it has not.
Finally, I would like all of you to know and rejoice. The mullet is back. Men, women, children, it's everywhere!
The metro has the longest imaginable escalators. (link is to a YouTube video of a metro experience, don't click if you're on dial up (hi SO! hi little boy! miss you!)) The metro also seems to be the official make out spot for all Russians under 30. I know how to yell, "Get a room!" but the thing is they probably don't have one. Population density is pretty dense here.
Another cool thing we saw in a perekhod (переход) in Moscow was a group of orchestra musicians playing one of Vivaldi's Seasons. I was so blown away by it that I didn't even register which season it was! But I finally had the presence of mind to record it on my phone. So, perhaps little boy can hear it when we come home. Other things you see for sale in a perekhod - sodas of all types, cigarettes (but strangely enough, one of the few places that smoking is actually prohibited is the perekhod. and the metro, and the metro stations, thank goodness.), all manner of souvenirs, books, magazines, underwear & nylons (fishnets seem to be particularly popular here), wallets, purses, belts.
We saw some guys who we thought looked like vampires today. (I have a picture, but I can't upload it yet.) One wore two different types of pinstripes and carried a sumka (сумка), which is pretty much like the camera bag that I'm carrying. The other one, who was even blonder and paler, was carrying a man-purse.
Men also wear capris here, more so than do the women, whose style of dress I have already discussed. But hey, I lived through the 80s, I know how hard it is to exist when wearing pants that tight. I thought the world had moved beyond this cruel fashion. Sadly, it has not.
Finally, I would like all of you to know and rejoice. The mullet is back. Men, women, children, it's everywhere!
St. Petersburg - Day 5
I let Big Boy sleep too late today; he got up after noon. I may still yet run today, even though it's almost 10:30pm. The sun is still up, after all. We had the most perfect weather today. A few puffy clouds, about 70, breeze but not wind. I did our laundry and hung it out on the communal balcony. Remember how I said we had to walk up 10 flights of stairs the other day? The apartment and the balcony are on the 10th floor. Ugh. I found it less scary when I put my back to the railing and faced the building as I hung clothes.As the weather was so cooperative, we decided to go to Peter & Paul Fortress and then take a look at Peter's cabin, both of which are across the Neva River. We were still too far inland to see the Gulf of Finland, but I still want to do that before we leave. The picture here is more than we saw, the middle tower to the left of the tall spire was covered for ремонт, or remodeling. Between the four tour buses parked inside the fortress, the various bobcats hauling construction materials everywhere, and the paint fumes, it was a little less impressive than we'd hoped it would be. The entire thing is paved in cobblestone, though, using real stones. Not bricks, stones. It's an impressive feat of masonry, but it's not much fun to walk on, and, as Big Boy reminded me, they used to do military drills here. We didn't go in to see any old dead tsars, we just looked around inside the fort and then outside at the river.
We had less success with lunch today. The first place we tried was really busy and had no available tables at 3:30pm. So we found a second option, a Georgian place, which had great choices on the menu. For example, pike, perch, mutton, chicken, shrimp, and "Boiled Tongue with Garnish." We were also a little low on rubles, so we shared a cheese bread, which was good, but not enough. On the way to Peter's cabin, we each had a Larabar. Thanks Lara! I also changed some dollars to rubles.
Peter's cabin was already closed when we got there. So, we walked back to the Troitsky Bridge and crossed the Neva. Then, on to the Summer Garden (Летний сад) and Summer Palace (Летний дворец). The garden was nice, the statues were plenty, and we were getting hungry again. On to Coffee House. After a snack and the realization that Big Boy should NOT order the French hot chocolate, which seemed to be dark chocolate pudding in a mug, we walked up and down Nevsky Prospect. Yes, again. Yes, we do this every day. That way I don't feel too guilty about skipping running again. We walked for 9 hours today.
Our new roommates managed to get back to the apartment alive. They're a father & son from Florida. Neither can read nor speak any Russian. After a week here and a week in Moscow, they're headed to Beijing on the Trans-Siberian Railway. They don't speak Chinese, either. I wrote out the Cyrillic spellings of the metro stop they were headed to and the one for the apartment. After that, I walked them to the metro. At least they eat meat. And they did take my advice of avoiding at all costs the evil pay туалет and going to McDonalds or a coffee house to use a bathroom. Ugh. I think I'll have nightmares about that first one I used for years.
St. Petersburg - Day 4
Ok, so this is not what you think of when you think of the Russian Museum (Русский Музей). You think of 13th century icons, marble sculptures, living room sized paintings... But this Kuinzhy guy, I really liked his colors.
I didn't want to push Big Boy into running today, so we skipped it. The weather was somewhat unsettled, promising to be near 80 with possible thunderstorms. We set off for the Russian Museum, after a quick search for a store that we did find and did contain the item we sought (hi little boy! I found you something!) You actually enter the museum off to the right of the original entry. The original entrance doors are breathtaking. Easily 12 feet tall, solid four-inch-thick wood with large glass panes, and door handles almost 5 feet from the ground. There were lots of paintings and sculpture.
After a couple of hours, we were not as appreciative of the exhibits as we should have been, due to being overwhelmed and hungry. My favorites were Pompeii, Kuinzhy, and some of the folk art. Some of the wood carving reminded me of what Gma used to do. There was an entire carved wooden gable end of a peasant house, an amazing amount of work for what was just going to be exposed to the elements.
We found the two Indian restaurants that the guidebook mentioned. The first looked less promising, so we headed for the second one down the block. It was great. Samosas, pakoras, dal, aloo gobi, rice, naan - yum! And why was it so much easier for me to order in Russian from the Indian guy than it is for me to speak Russian to anyone else?
Having eaten the most since we were in Zurich, we set off for the Russian Artillery Museum. On the way, we found another CD/DVD store and bought 3 more of the DVDs on Oksana's list. We took the metro under the Neva River (it slows down when it goes under) to the stop for Peter & Paul Fortress. The Artillery Museum was closed for technical something-or-other, neither Big Boy nor I knew what the crucial word meant. But I got a couple of pix of tanks and big guns for SO.
We stopped in a Coffee House to escape an early evening thunderstorm. I had cappucino and Big Boy had a cup of what seemed to be melted dark chocolate. Delicious, but he got one that was too big. It would have been better if he'd gotten an espresso size.
On the way back to the apartment, we stopped at a store across the street from the circus. We had visited earlier in the day, cruising the aisles to see what they had in stock. This time, however, as we walked in the exact same way we had in the morning, some clerk starts yelling at us. I was oblivious, because in a city this large, someone is always yelling something in the nearby vicinity. Then a girl said something and the yelling stopped. Fifteen seconds later, Big Boy starts laughing. Apparently, the clerk was hollering at us for going in through the out door and the girl said, "They're foreign." And so we are.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Intermezzo
Two days ago, as we came back to the apartment, the elevator didn't work. So we walked up. Ten flights of stairs.
On the way home yesterday, after our clinic adventure, we passed a gigantic, abandoned children's hospital. It seemed fitting.
Big Boy may occasionally be mistaken for a native, but I will never be. There seem to be three distinct versions of Russian women, the young, the mothers, and the retired. The young have universally adopted the ultra-ultra-low cut jeans and super tight belly shirts. You hardly see any navels, though, you just see a startlingly broad expanse of what's south of the navel to the beltline. They also totter about on frighteningly fragile-looking high heels. The mothers are generally what you think of when you stereotype Russian women - stout, no-nonsense, and sturdy. Then there's the tiny old pensioners, some literally with a tin cup silently asking for rubles, others with their plastic bags of stuff they carry with everywhere. Me, with my comfortable clothing and sensible footwear, I fall into none of these categories.
As we were wandering on our first night here, Big Boy and I talked about how we should go to The Idiot, because we are, indeed, idiots. It turns out, after I spent hours reading the guidebook, that The Idiot has vegetarian food.
I circled all the places on the guidebook map that indicated we would be able to eat something. We stopped at Tandoori Nights on Wednesday for a late lunch. We were both so happy. Finally, normal food. It was weird, however, to order Indian food in Russian. It was the best food we've had since we left the US, and quite decent in and of itself. The only odd thing, though, was the Aloo Gobi (cauliflower & potatoes with yummy spices). This is Russia, right? Home of the root vegetable? The potatoes were crinkle cut fries.
On the way home yesterday, after our clinic adventure, we passed a gigantic, abandoned children's hospital. It seemed fitting.
Big Boy may occasionally be mistaken for a native, but I will never be. There seem to be three distinct versions of Russian women, the young, the mothers, and the retired. The young have universally adopted the ultra-ultra-low cut jeans and super tight belly shirts. You hardly see any navels, though, you just see a startlingly broad expanse of what's south of the navel to the beltline. They also totter about on frighteningly fragile-looking high heels. The mothers are generally what you think of when you stereotype Russian women - stout, no-nonsense, and sturdy. Then there's the tiny old pensioners, some literally with a tin cup silently asking for rubles, others with their plastic bags of stuff they carry with everywhere. Me, with my comfortable clothing and sensible footwear, I fall into none of these categories.
As we were wandering on our first night here, Big Boy and I talked about how we should go to The Idiot, because we are, indeed, idiots. It turns out, after I spent hours reading the guidebook, that The Idiot has vegetarian food.
I circled all the places on the guidebook map that indicated we would be able to eat something. We stopped at Tandoori Nights on Wednesday for a late lunch. We were both so happy. Finally, normal food. It was weird, however, to order Indian food in Russian. It was the best food we've had since we left the US, and quite decent in and of itself. The only odd thing, though, was the Aloo Gobi (cauliflower & potatoes with yummy spices). This is Russia, right? Home of the root vegetable? The potatoes were crinkle cut fries.
St. Petersburg - Day 3
Big Boy didn't want to wake up this morning, and if I'd known what was good for us, I would have let him sleep.
We did two laps of the park, but his blister was hurting and he got a side stitch and it was the start of Alexander's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. We started out for the Dostoevsky Museum (Достоевский Музей). As we waited for the elevator, Big Boy said how it was funny that he could only see blur out of his right eye on the right side (any guesses yet?). We got off the metro, were at the wrong stop, but didn't know it yet. As we started walking, he said that his head was really hurting him. He wanted to go in somewhere to sit down, and we ducked into a cafe that had a stuffed bear on one wall. But they had coffee, which he ordered.
As we sat there, he got paler & paler and started sweating buckets. After his trip to offload breakfast, I decided he probably had a migraine and needed to see a doctor. So, I check the map, and check it again. We start off for the American Clinic and it starts raining. He just keeps getting more pale, if that's even possible, and he says he's dizzy, so he leans on me a little as we walk. We get to the clinic, fill out a form, of course I've left our insurance cards at the apartment, and a nurse is taking his temp & blood pressure within 10 minutes of our arrival. A nice young doctor walks in, talks to Big Boy for awhile, and says he'll give him lots of tylenol and maybe something else if that doesn't work. But, we should probably get Big Boy an MRI when we get back to the US.
They lead us to a room, where a nurse strips the bed and puts disposable sheets on everything, including a duvet cover on the comforter (!). She comes in a little while later and gives Big Boy some pills and a shot. He falls asleep.
Luckily, I brought the guidebook with me, so I read about Siberia for the next three hours. Big Boy wakes up just before 6pm, the nice doctor leads us to the cashier, and for the "extended office consultation" it costs $140. And they take credit cards.
Drugs & sleep have done Big Boy wonders, and I am no longer worrying that he'll die on me. We cross the street to The Idiot and order some food. There's also chess, so we play. Big Boy beats me 4 out of 5 games. They serve us complimentary shots of vodka. Now, if he hadn't just spent the entire afternoon in the hospital, I'd have let him have his. I had both.
Then, off to the Church on the Spilled Blood, where we spent big bucks to look at some awesome mosaics. By then, we were hungry again, but only found some 24 hour quick marts and bought some water and Schweppes Bitter Lemon. Why do we not have this in America???
We did two laps of the park, but his blister was hurting and he got a side stitch and it was the start of Alexander's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. We started out for the Dostoevsky Museum (Достоевский Музей). As we waited for the elevator, Big Boy said how it was funny that he could only see blur out of his right eye on the right side (any guesses yet?). We got off the metro, were at the wrong stop, but didn't know it yet. As we started walking, he said that his head was really hurting him. He wanted to go in somewhere to sit down, and we ducked into a cafe that had a stuffed bear on one wall. But they had coffee, which he ordered.
As we sat there, he got paler & paler and started sweating buckets. After his trip to offload breakfast, I decided he probably had a migraine and needed to see a doctor. So, I check the map, and check it again. We start off for the American Clinic and it starts raining. He just keeps getting more pale, if that's even possible, and he says he's dizzy, so he leans on me a little as we walk. We get to the clinic, fill out a form, of course I've left our insurance cards at the apartment, and a nurse is taking his temp & blood pressure within 10 minutes of our arrival. A nice young doctor walks in, talks to Big Boy for awhile, and says he'll give him lots of tylenol and maybe something else if that doesn't work. But, we should probably get Big Boy an MRI when we get back to the US.
They lead us to a room, where a nurse strips the bed and puts disposable sheets on everything, including a duvet cover on the comforter (!). She comes in a little while later and gives Big Boy some pills and a shot. He falls asleep.
Luckily, I brought the guidebook with me, so I read about Siberia for the next three hours. Big Boy wakes up just before 6pm, the nice doctor leads us to the cashier, and for the "extended office consultation" it costs $140. And they take credit cards.
Drugs & sleep have done Big Boy wonders, and I am no longer worrying that he'll die on me. We cross the street to The Idiot and order some food. There's also chess, so we play. Big Boy beats me 4 out of 5 games. They serve us complimentary shots of vodka. Now, if he hadn't just spent the entire afternoon in the hospital, I'd have let him have his. I had both.
Then, off to the Church on the Spilled Blood, where we spent big bucks to look at some awesome mosaics. By then, we were hungry again, but only found some 24 hour quick marts and bought some water and Schweppes Bitter Lemon. Why do we not have this in America???
Monday, June 11, 2007
St. Petersburg - Day 2
We got up at 8:30 and ran three laps of the park, which should be about 10k. [Now, I only know this from the measuring I did on Google. There's not going to be any forerunner data for this trip because one of the other brilliant things I did was drop the darn thing when I was in O'Hare. And then again when I unpacked here in St. Pete. It'll work again, but I have to connect it to the charger to convince it that it's still alive. And the charger is at home.] There were people going to work, some men playing tennis on what looked like nice clay courts, some men drinking their liquid cereal in the park, and two, count 'em, two other runners. Now admittedly, this is a small sample, but on a totally gorgeous morning (50s, partly cloudy) why were there not more runners in the park? The path is packed rock & sand and pretty well maintained, given how many empty Балтика (Baltika) bottles they have to clear away every day. But come to think of it, there was a woman running in the park when we were on our way home from the metro last night. It was 12:45 am. Best time for a run if you ask me. Sure.
The first thing on our list for today was Юсуповсий Дворец (Yusupov Palace). It was amazing, I can see now why Big Boy is so enthusiastic about it. And, as he's said, we only saw about a quarter of the place. It was the most expensive of the places we're going to tour, 450 руб ($18) for me and 300 руб ($12) for Big Boy with his student discount. I was dumb and didn't accept the student discount when the ticket lady asked me if I was a student, too.
We also wandered around outside the Winter Palace, aka the Hermitage. It's not on the schedule to tour today, so we just took some pictures and wow. I need more demonstrative adjectives for the things we're seeing here.
To the Stroganov Palace for lunch, about 4pm. There's a cafe there where you can get espresso for 19 руб (or, less than a dollar). They also have inexpensive (by St. Pete standards) food. Well, we seem to really be doing something wrong as far as this getting-ourselves-fed-in-a-foreign-land thing goes. We sat for almost half an hour waiting to catch someone's eye to take our order. I did get greek salad, Big Boy wanted a margherita pizza, but they were all out (out of tomatoes, cheese, and oregano?? really?), so he had spaghetti.
We walked to look at the outside of the Church on the Spilled Blood and to check out the numerous souvenir stands. We almost got a fur hat for our buddy, Bill, but weren't sure how much he wants us to spend. The guy was trying to talk us into a red fox hat, going on and on about the quality, the guarantee, etc. We got him down from 4500 руб ($180) to 2500 ($100), but that's still a lot of money. And Big Boy's imitation of the silent, Russian male was all we needed to haggle. But the guy knew we were foreigners, anyway.
Other than walking up & down Nevsky, pretty much our last stop was Mikhailovsky Castle. We just took pictures and walked in the grass a bit. Rather than take a chance on getting turned around and not finding dinner, we hopped the metro back to the apartment, got some snacks from the store, and were home by 8:30pm. That was only 10 hours of walking around for the day.
!!
I also got to chat online with a running buddy of mine as I was blogging here this evening. Very cool. But despite it being bright as day outside, it's 10:30pm and I have to make myself sleep. I do think that the running this morning helped a lot. There was no weird disorientation or other-than-normal spaciness from me today.
The first thing on our list for today was Юсуповсий Дворец (Yusupov Palace). It was amazing, I can see now why Big Boy is so enthusiastic about it. And, as he's said, we only saw about a quarter of the place. It was the most expensive of the places we're going to tour, 450 руб ($18) for me and 300 руб ($12) for Big Boy with his student discount. I was dumb and didn't accept the student discount when the ticket lady asked me if I was a student, too.
We also wandered around outside the Winter Palace, aka the Hermitage. It's not on the schedule to tour today, so we just took some pictures and wow. I need more demonstrative adjectives for the things we're seeing here.
To the Stroganov Palace for lunch, about 4pm. There's a cafe there where you can get espresso for 19 руб (or, less than a dollar). They also have inexpensive (by St. Pete standards) food. Well, we seem to really be doing something wrong as far as this getting-ourselves-fed-in-a-foreign-land thing goes. We sat for almost half an hour waiting to catch someone's eye to take our order. I did get greek salad, Big Boy wanted a margherita pizza, but they were all out (out of tomatoes, cheese, and oregano?? really?), so he had spaghetti.
We walked to look at the outside of the Church on the Spilled Blood and to check out the numerous souvenir stands. We almost got a fur hat for our buddy, Bill, but weren't sure how much he wants us to spend. The guy was trying to talk us into a red fox hat, going on and on about the quality, the guarantee, etc. We got him down from 4500 руб ($180) to 2500 ($100), but that's still a lot of money. And Big Boy's imitation of the silent, Russian male was all we needed to haggle. But the guy knew we were foreigners, anyway.
Other than walking up & down Nevsky, pretty much our last stop was Mikhailovsky Castle. We just took pictures and walked in the grass a bit. Rather than take a chance on getting turned around and not finding dinner, we hopped the metro back to the apartment, got some snacks from the store, and were home by 8:30pm. That was only 10 hours of walking around for the day.
!!
I also got to chat online with a running buddy of mine as I was blogging here this evening. Very cool. But despite it being bright as day outside, it's 10:30pm and I have to make myself sleep. I do think that the running this morning helped a lot. There was no weird disorientation or other-than-normal spaciness from me today.
Miscellaneous wanderings and wonderings
Ok, so one of the more stupid things that I've done on this trip happened in Zurich as we were about to board our flight to Moscow. I put my backpack on the chair upon which I'd been sleeping, so I didn't have to hoist it up from the ground, and as I shrug it on and stand up simultaneously, I bash my calf on the edge of the chair. I had my feet too close to it, didn't realize it, and ouch! Big Boy still says he can't figure out how I did it. That aside, I have an enormous bruise and a lump the size of a golf ball on my left calf. Fun!
There is one thing that's really common here that I think a certain Alaskan buddy of ours would really appreciate. There are just skads of people walking around with open 40s of Baltika beer, drinking at will. And they leave the bottles on the ground when they're empty. They are everywhere. A recycling company could make millions here on the empty Baltika bottles alone.
Another thing is the brooms. Twig brooms. Like in Harry Potter. Every morning, you see the women who run the flower stands (also everywhere) sweeping up all the cigarette butts from the previous day. They really sweep a lot. I'd think that someone importing and selling some decent brooms could make a killing, too.
Smoking. Everyone. All the time. Must be why they're all so skinny. You can also order cigarettes off of any restaurant menu. They usually have their own page, even. And only cost about 50 cents a pack.
On our first day in St. Pete, we left the apartment and took the metro into town. We goggled at the buildings, both 18th century and soviet. We got off Невский Проспект (Nevsky Prospect) and were just sort of wandering around. The sun was still up at 10pm, it was still very light at 11pm, and we realized we'd wandered all the way to the Балтиская (Baltiskaya) metro station, which was way south of where we'd intended to go. So we hopped on the metro (I love the subway. It's like we're in a grown-up city.) to get back to Nevsky Prospect and looked for something, anything, to eat. On this wandering, Big Boy got approached for cigarettes at least twice.
We tried Баскин-Робинс (Baskin-Robbins) but it was closed. So, we went next door to Кофе Хаус (this is a goofy Russian transliteration of the English words "Coffee House." In Russian, it'd be something entirely different, like Кофейский дом.) So we stand by the counter forever, no one will take an order or seat us. We finally just sit down, where we peer at the menu at wait for someone to take our order. About half an hour after we sat down, someone comes by and does finally take our order. Big Boy asks for a coke and a banana split, I wanted a greek salad (feta, olives, cucumber, tomatoes, lettuce) and tonic. A while later, the girl comes back and says, "No greek salad today, but we have somethingorother salad. It's nice, it has ham."
It's nice. It has ham.
So I have tonic. We finally get on the metro to go back to the apartment about 12:30am. It is still light.
There is one thing that's really common here that I think a certain Alaskan buddy of ours would really appreciate. There are just skads of people walking around with open 40s of Baltika beer, drinking at will. And they leave the bottles on the ground when they're empty. They are everywhere. A recycling company could make millions here on the empty Baltika bottles alone.
Another thing is the brooms. Twig brooms. Like in Harry Potter. Every morning, you see the women who run the flower stands (also everywhere) sweeping up all the cigarette butts from the previous day. They really sweep a lot. I'd think that someone importing and selling some decent brooms could make a killing, too.
Smoking. Everyone. All the time. Must be why they're all so skinny. You can also order cigarettes off of any restaurant menu. They usually have their own page, even. And only cost about 50 cents a pack.
On our first day in St. Pete, we left the apartment and took the metro into town. We goggled at the buildings, both 18th century and soviet. We got off Невский Проспект (Nevsky Prospect) and were just sort of wandering around. The sun was still up at 10pm, it was still very light at 11pm, and we realized we'd wandered all the way to the Балтиская (Baltiskaya) metro station, which was way south of where we'd intended to go. So we hopped on the metro (I love the subway. It's like we're in a grown-up city.) to get back to Nevsky Prospect and looked for something, anything, to eat. On this wandering, Big Boy got approached for cigarettes at least twice.
We tried Баскин-Робинс (Baskin-Robbins) but it was closed. So, we went next door to Кофе Хаус (this is a goofy Russian transliteration of the English words "Coffee House." In Russian, it'd be something entirely different, like Кофейский дом.) So we stand by the counter forever, no one will take an order or seat us. We finally just sit down, where we peer at the menu at wait for someone to take our order. About half an hour after we sat down, someone comes by and does finally take our order. Big Boy asks for a coke and a banana split, I wanted a greek salad (feta, olives, cucumber, tomatoes, lettuce) and tonic. A while later, the girl comes back and says, "No greek salad today, but we have somethingorother salad. It's nice, it has ham."
It's nice. It has ham.
So I have tonic. We finally get on the metro to go back to the apartment about 12:30am. It is still light.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
St. Petersburg - Day 1
The train arrived on time to Moscovski vokzal in St. Petersburg. After much walking back & forth and a little growling at each other, Big Boy and I find the metro and buy some tokens. But then there's more walking back & forth trying to find the right platform. [Jet lag robs me of what little short-term memory I naturally possess, so I am even more absentminded and dithery than usual. I'm sure he is loving that.]
We figure out which station we have to get to in order to transfer to the blue line to get to Park Pobedy which is our final destination for the morning. We walk a few blocks to the apartment building and get in, after a little hassle from the concierge (think really grouchy dorm mother/bouncer). I perform the feat of speaking the most Russian since we've been here, I chat with the man sharing the elevator with us. [Russian elevators are about 2 feet square. Seriously. With our backpacks on, we're huge enough to have to perform sort of a Tetris maneuver to fit ourselves in with anyone else. HEY! The guy who invented Tetris is Russian. I wonder if the elevators inspired him??]
The weather here reminds us of Duluth. Lots of sun, lots of sky, cool breeze, and if you're out of the sun, you feel cold.
Tatiana greets us at her door and is happy we've arrived safely. She makes us breakfast, we have the problem food conversation (some of it in Russian), and chat for awhile before taking a short walk to see the local food markets. OK, here's the weird thing. I've done the most conversing since we've gotten here. Big Boy is being shy. He's had four years of practice and I'm sure is way more competent than I am, yet he won't talk. Tatiana called him a typical Russian man a couple of times. Few words, loves money but not work (ok, ok, we talked a little about how little boy is home finishing school and working at his job and she asked what does he do, why is he working, so the contrasts were apparent.).
We need to get together our list of what we'd like to do so we can schedule things on days they're actually open! We did most of that, then Big Boy took a nap, and I've put down the last few blog entries. Now it's coming up on 3pm local time, about the time I normally get up on a work day at home, and I think if I take a nap I'll feel a little less disconnected from reality.
We figure out which station we have to get to in order to transfer to the blue line to get to Park Pobedy which is our final destination for the morning. We walk a few blocks to the apartment building and get in, after a little hassle from the concierge (think really grouchy dorm mother/bouncer). I perform the feat of speaking the most Russian since we've been here, I chat with the man sharing the elevator with us. [Russian elevators are about 2 feet square. Seriously. With our backpacks on, we're huge enough to have to perform sort of a Tetris maneuver to fit ourselves in with anyone else. HEY! The guy who invented Tetris is Russian. I wonder if the elevators inspired him??]
The weather here reminds us of Duluth. Lots of sun, lots of sky, cool breeze, and if you're out of the sun, you feel cold.
Tatiana greets us at her door and is happy we've arrived safely. She makes us breakfast, we have the problem food conversation (some of it in Russian), and chat for awhile before taking a short walk to see the local food markets. OK, here's the weird thing. I've done the most conversing since we've gotten here. Big Boy is being shy. He's had four years of practice and I'm sure is way more competent than I am, yet he won't talk. Tatiana called him a typical Russian man a couple of times. Few words, loves money but not work (ok, ok, we talked a little about how little boy is home finishing school and working at his job and she asked what does he do, why is he working, so the contrasts were apparent.).
We need to get together our list of what we'd like to do so we can schedule things on days they're actually open! We did most of that, then Big Boy took a nap, and I've put down the last few blog entries. Now it's coming up on 3pm local time, about the time I normally get up on a work day at home, and I think if I take a nap I'll feel a little less disconnected from reality.
Food problems....or issues
Our first experience with being problem vegetarians in Russia. It went as expected. Want it in Russian, or English? It's funnier in Russian.
Hostess: blahblahblah
reallyfastrussianthatIdidn'tunderstand
blahblahblah, pork shashlik?
Me: We don't eat meat.
Hostess: It's not meat, it's pork.
Me: We can't eat that.
Hostess: Chicken?
Me: Can't.
Hostess: Fish?
Me: No, not fish, either.
Hostess: Well, what do you eat?
Me: We can eat potatoes. Do you have potatoes?
Hostess: reallyfastrussianhere
she'sgettingimpatientwiththedifficultamericans
somethingabout french fries?
Me: Fine.
Our food comes last. It's a handful of the greasiest, most awful french fries I've ever had. And half a tomato. And half a pickle, but sliced lengthwise. Luckily it's like 2 o'clock in the morning and we're really not that hungry. But, I ate the pickle.
We watched a Mosfilm comedy from the 50s. It was actually pretty funny. Something about 4 factory workers, 3 men all sort of vying for the affections of one woman who is alternately oblivious to them and flirting with them in turn. In the end, they're all industrious comrades, no meddlesome romance ever ensuing. Ahh, you gotta love the soviets!
Hostess: blahblahblah
reallyfastrussianthatIdidn'tunderstand
blahblahblah, pork shashlik?
Me: We don't eat meat.
Hostess: It's not meat, it's pork.
Me: We can't eat that.
Hostess: Chicken?
Me: Can't.
Hostess: Fish?
Me: No, not fish, either.
Hostess: Well, what do you eat?
Me: We can eat potatoes. Do you have potatoes?
Hostess: reallyfastrussianhere
she'sgettingimpatientwiththedifficultamericans
somethingabout french fries?
Me: Fine.
Our food comes last. It's a handful of the greasiest, most awful french fries I've ever had. And half a tomato. And half a pickle, but sliced lengthwise. Luckily it's like 2 o'clock in the morning and we're really not that hungry. But, I ate the pickle.
We watched a Mosfilm comedy from the 50s. It was actually pretty funny. Something about 4 factory workers, 3 men all sort of vying for the affections of one woman who is alternately oblivious to them and flirting with them in turn. In the end, they're all industrious comrades, no meddlesome romance ever ensuing. Ahh, you gotta love the soviets!
Moscow, but first...
Geneva!
Somehow I never realized that our flight from Zurich to Moscow made a stop in Geneva. How did I miss that? Would it have been cheaper to fly to Geneva, not Zurich? I can't even bear to look. About 20 people were on the plane when we took off from Zurich. I thought, "Wow. I guess not many people fly to Moscow from here." Wrong.
After a half hour flight to Geneva (more chocolate, but no drinks or snacks. But chocolate!), we were told to stay on the plane while more people boarded for the continuing on to Moscow. It was me, Big Boy, and about three other people who stayed. Then the plane filled up. We got good food again, this time veggie quiche and croissants. Big Boy slept a lot on this flight and I knitted socks (got the heel flap done, the heel turned, picked up stitches for the gusset and then could not concentrate on the easy parts) until I got too sleepy and drifted off.
I filled out the registration forms for our visas and apparently everything was alright, because the rather grim lady at customs just looked something up on the computer, looked at my form, stamped it, stamped my visa, and handed my passport back to me. Same procedure for Big Boy. He said he asked her what she was looking up and she said to make sure the visa was good.
Domodedovo airport was recently remodeled. It has signs in Russian with English subtitles. And woohoo! I can read them both. We changed some money to rubles and went to find the express train into the city. We ran the gauntlet of taxi-pushers with a few well-placed "нет"s (that would be "nyet"s) and I got to be the first one to try to get myself into trouble in Russian. After conferring with my co-traveller, we decided on a plan of attack and I got us two tickets into the city. It cost 300 rubles (~25 rubles to the dollar) for a 45 minute train ride.
The scenery was familiar but still foreign. Lots of birch trees. Lots of trees, period. Then some industrial stuff, power transformers, etc. Then new suburbs (farther out from the city, more modern construction). Then old suburbs (think soviet concrete). Then I think jet lag hit and I don't remember. Jet lag comes in waves. More on that later.
I was text msg'ing with Olyesa who had bought our overnight train tickets to St. Petersburg. We were to meet at the Paveletskaya metro station, on the green line, in the middle of the platform. We had no problem finding the metro, per se, but we had some fun trying to find Olyesa. After more text msg'ing and then an actual phone call, she found us. Never underestimate my talent for spatial-relations disaster (or my imperfect ability to relate spatially) or how much a lost foreigner sticks out in a crowd.
On to Belorusskaya station, where we were to meet Tara, our new friend courtesy of Kerstin. After a somewhat less harrowing meet & greet, we walked back to Tara's apartment where she not only let us shower (one of the first things I told her is that we smelled like goats, charming, I know), but do a load of laundry and play with her cat, Sasha. We went for Georgian food across the street, and then in a fit of indecisiveness, caught a taxi to Red Square. I told Big Boy to enjoy it, cuz it was a ride! Holy cats, they drive like crazy in Moscow.
We took some pictures, walked some more, pointedly ignored Dead Lenin, strolled through ГУМ (GUM), and then Tara took a taxi back to her place while Big Boy and I walked back along Tverskaya. We saw lots of crazy driving, some statues, many places to change money, lots of women in very high heels, all sorts of people in really tight pants (we'll never look like natives in that respect), found a perekhod (переход) and navigated it all on our own. A perekhod is an underground walkway lined with teeny tiny shops that sell all sorts of things. I guess they're good for ducking out of winter cold, but mostly they're good for letting humans cross the road and get to the other side. We found our way back to Tara's place and then fell unconscious for some unknown amount of time.
As it's a holiday weekend here (the holiday is Tuesday, so to have a 3 day weekend, everyone had to work Saturday, then they'd have Sun, Mon & Tues off. this explains the completely sold out trains!), the taxis were three times the price they usually are, so we took the metro to the train station. Although we were warned that it's a seedy and dangerous area, it didn't look much worse than the east side Rainbow on a Saturday night, just way more busy. We found the Ленинградский вокзал (Leningradski Vokzal, Leningrad train station), found the platform for our train, bought some bottled water, and boarded our car. After reading about Russian trains, particularly the seating only sections, I was a little apprehensive. Ha! The car was nicer than Amtrak coach seating (the only drawback is that people are allowed to smoke in the area between the cars and of course, it wafts in whenever the doors open). 2 seats on one side, 1 on the other, large reclining seat w/foot rest, eyemask, earplugs, headset (with little disposable paper covers), and... food service.
Somehow I never realized that our flight from Zurich to Moscow made a stop in Geneva. How did I miss that? Would it have been cheaper to fly to Geneva, not Zurich? I can't even bear to look. About 20 people were on the plane when we took off from Zurich. I thought, "Wow. I guess not many people fly to Moscow from here." Wrong.
After a half hour flight to Geneva (more chocolate, but no drinks or snacks. But chocolate!), we were told to stay on the plane while more people boarded for the continuing on to Moscow. It was me, Big Boy, and about three other people who stayed. Then the plane filled up. We got good food again, this time veggie quiche and croissants. Big Boy slept a lot on this flight and I knitted socks (got the heel flap done, the heel turned, picked up stitches for the gusset and then could not concentrate on the easy parts) until I got too sleepy and drifted off.
I filled out the registration forms for our visas and apparently everything was alright, because the rather grim lady at customs just looked something up on the computer, looked at my form, stamped it, stamped my visa, and handed my passport back to me. Same procedure for Big Boy. He said he asked her what she was looking up and she said to make sure the visa was good.
Domodedovo airport was recently remodeled. It has signs in Russian with English subtitles. And woohoo! I can read them both. We changed some money to rubles and went to find the express train into the city. We ran the gauntlet of taxi-pushers with a few well-placed "нет"s (that would be "nyet"s) and I got to be the first one to try to get myself into trouble in Russian. After conferring with my co-traveller, we decided on a plan of attack and I got us two tickets into the city. It cost 300 rubles (~25 rubles to the dollar) for a 45 minute train ride.
The scenery was familiar but still foreign. Lots of birch trees. Lots of trees, period. Then some industrial stuff, power transformers, etc. Then new suburbs (farther out from the city, more modern construction). Then old suburbs (think soviet concrete). Then I think jet lag hit and I don't remember. Jet lag comes in waves. More on that later.
I was text msg'ing with Olyesa who had bought our overnight train tickets to St. Petersburg. We were to meet at the Paveletskaya metro station, on the green line, in the middle of the platform. We had no problem finding the metro, per se, but we had some fun trying to find Olyesa. After more text msg'ing and then an actual phone call, she found us. Never underestimate my talent for spatial-relations disaster (or my imperfect ability to relate spatially) or how much a lost foreigner sticks out in a crowd.
On to Belorusskaya station, where we were to meet Tara, our new friend courtesy of Kerstin. After a somewhat less harrowing meet & greet, we walked back to Tara's apartment where she not only let us shower (one of the first things I told her is that we smelled like goats, charming, I know), but do a load of laundry and play with her cat, Sasha. We went for Georgian food across the street, and then in a fit of indecisiveness, caught a taxi to Red Square. I told Big Boy to enjoy it, cuz it was a ride! Holy cats, they drive like crazy in Moscow.
We took some pictures, walked some more, pointedly ignored Dead Lenin, strolled through ГУМ (GUM), and then Tara took a taxi back to her place while Big Boy and I walked back along Tverskaya. We saw lots of crazy driving, some statues, many places to change money, lots of women in very high heels, all sorts of people in really tight pants (we'll never look like natives in that respect), found a perekhod (переход) and navigated it all on our own. A perekhod is an underground walkway lined with teeny tiny shops that sell all sorts of things. I guess they're good for ducking out of winter cold, but mostly they're good for letting humans cross the road and get to the other side. We found our way back to Tara's place and then fell unconscious for some unknown amount of time.
As it's a holiday weekend here (the holiday is Tuesday, so to have a 3 day weekend, everyone had to work Saturday, then they'd have Sun, Mon & Tues off. this explains the completely sold out trains!), the taxis were three times the price they usually are, so we took the metro to the train station. Although we were warned that it's a seedy and dangerous area, it didn't look much worse than the east side Rainbow on a Saturday night, just way more busy. We found the Ленинградский вокзал (Leningradski Vokzal, Leningrad train station), found the platform for our train, bought some bottled water, and boarded our car. After reading about Russian trains, particularly the seating only sections, I was a little apprehensive. Ha! The car was nicer than Amtrak coach seating (the only drawback is that people are allowed to smoke in the area between the cars and of course, it wafts in whenever the doors open). 2 seats on one side, 1 on the other, large reclining seat w/foot rest, eyemask, earplugs, headset (with little disposable paper covers), and... food service.
Zurich
I can just see Gma & Gpa shaking their heads. Zurich was an exercise in frustration for us, because we can't speak or understand German worth a hoot. I can say "bitte," "danke," and "Ich kan nicht Deutsch." And I can puzzle out some of the written stuff. But I just can't understand anything!
SwissAir, however, was just fabulous. They give you chocolate once the plane is in flight. On our not quite 2 hour flight, we got chocolate, a decent sandwich (choice of either meat OR cheese!) and a drink. Beer & wine included. Zurich airport was extremely clean and easy to follow (German, French and English signage). Getting a train into the city was very difficult for us, due to that lack of language skills. I actually did the dumb American thing and walked up to the ticket window and said, "Hi" to the cashier. I am nothing if not impressive. I spent a lot of pretty and colorful Swiss francs to get us round trip tickets to the city.
Then, after stowing our backpacks in the left luggage lockers, we went down to the train station and tried to figure out which way to go to get to the city. And we just couldn't do it. But, of course, eventually we did, because we had to. And into the city we went. I don't think we got off at the right place, but at any rate we took off on foot and walked around in a big circle. Nothing we saw was particularly interesting, we were obviously not in a historic part of town, but the one thing that was really cool was their blinds. Big blinds. On the outside of the windows.
I got cranky enough to break out the tiny map and figure out where we were. Once I did that, we followed the streets to the water. The view was beautiful, the air was cooler, and apart from being hungry and tired, our moods were much improved. We then crossed a bridge and found a little cobblestone street going back north. We followed it and suddenly Zurich became quite charming, despite all that German.
We wandered into someone's outdoor wedding reception after the ceremony had just let out from a big old church. We found the best falafel sandwiches ever, even though it was hideously expensive with that pretty, colorful money. We saw all sorts of interesting people. We found the train station. We figured out how to get back to the airport after I remembered the word for airport (flughafen).
I thought we might have a shot at getting one of the "quiet rooms" that SwissAir had advertised in its propaganda, I mean, promotional video. No such luck. Could not find anything like that. So we looked for the quietest, darkest place in the airport, which turned out to be the lower observation lounge. The airport closes at midnight. But for the cleaning crew, I think we were the only people in the whole place. We slept on some chairs. Nobody said a word to us. The only thing that made the experience more surreal was the constant stream of soft pop hits, from Abba to Air Supply to more recent stuff, that played all night long.
We woke up on Saturday at 5am local time (Zurich is an hour ahead of GMT). My fun with security screening continued, with the great Zurich Larabar scare of 2007. Apparently, organic fruit and nut bars look like plastic explosives to their screening machines. After unpacking nearly all of my backpack, they realized it was just food and let me through.
SwissAir, however, was just fabulous. They give you chocolate once the plane is in flight. On our not quite 2 hour flight, we got chocolate, a decent sandwich (choice of either meat OR cheese!) and a drink. Beer & wine included. Zurich airport was extremely clean and easy to follow (German, French and English signage). Getting a train into the city was very difficult for us, due to that lack of language skills. I actually did the dumb American thing and walked up to the ticket window and said, "Hi" to the cashier. I am nothing if not impressive. I spent a lot of pretty and colorful Swiss francs to get us round trip tickets to the city.
Then, after stowing our backpacks in the left luggage lockers, we went down to the train station and tried to figure out which way to go to get to the city. And we just couldn't do it. But, of course, eventually we did, because we had to. And into the city we went. I don't think we got off at the right place, but at any rate we took off on foot and walked around in a big circle. Nothing we saw was particularly interesting, we were obviously not in a historic part of town, but the one thing that was really cool was their blinds. Big blinds. On the outside of the windows.
I got cranky enough to break out the tiny map and figure out where we were. Once I did that, we followed the streets to the water. The view was beautiful, the air was cooler, and apart from being hungry and tired, our moods were much improved. We then crossed a bridge and found a little cobblestone street going back north. We followed it and suddenly Zurich became quite charming, despite all that German.
We wandered into someone's outdoor wedding reception after the ceremony had just let out from a big old church. We found the best falafel sandwiches ever, even though it was hideously expensive with that pretty, colorful money. We saw all sorts of interesting people. We found the train station. We figured out how to get back to the airport after I remembered the word for airport (flughafen).
I thought we might have a shot at getting one of the "quiet rooms" that SwissAir had advertised in its propaganda, I mean, promotional video. No such luck. Could not find anything like that. So we looked for the quietest, darkest place in the airport, which turned out to be the lower observation lounge. The airport closes at midnight. But for the cleaning crew, I think we were the only people in the whole place. We slept on some chairs. Nobody said a word to us. The only thing that made the experience more surreal was the constant stream of soft pop hits, from Abba to Air Supply to more recent stuff, that played all night long.
We woke up on Saturday at 5am local time (Zurich is an hour ahead of GMT). My fun with security screening continued, with the great Zurich Larabar scare of 2007. Apparently, organic fruit and nut bars look like plastic explosives to their screening machines. After unpacking nearly all of my backpack, they realized it was just food and let me through.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Dublin, first pass
We landed in Dublin at 10am local time. It was something like 4am at home, and I felt like that, too!!
The airport here is reminds me of an airport from the 70s. But I have to say, security here in Europe is way more friendly than in the US.
Which reminds me, I got the joy of being selected for extra screening in Minneapolis. Apparently, the rfid chip blocking passport covers I got make the metal detectors go off. So I got sent off with a very nice, very tall, female TSA agent to get wanded over. Then I realized it must be the passport covers, so I handed them to her, and she wanded me, (found nothing, of course) and then took the covers over to the guy who watches the carry on screening monitor, and he sent the covers through. I could hear him say derisively, "These aren't metal!" Since then, I've sent the covers through with our backpacks.
Our backpacks, incidently, are actually smaller than most of the carry ons we've seen. It's amazing how much crap people bring onto a plane!
Our flight to Dublin was long, about 8 hours. We flew north to Nova Scotia and then across the Atlantic. Not that we saw any of it, first it was dark, then we were asleep. They had veggie pasta for us, and it was actually pretty good. We watched some weird movie with that guy that Reese Witherspoon divorced. He's kind of a weenie. And the other guy was just bizarre.
I've got just a minute or 2 left on this internet dealy, which is much cheaper than anything we saw at home. $1 a minute in atlanta (i passed), here it's about $0.80 for ten minutes.
More from Zurich!
The airport here is reminds me of an airport from the 70s. But I have to say, security here in Europe is way more friendly than in the US.
Which reminds me, I got the joy of being selected for extra screening in Minneapolis. Apparently, the rfid chip blocking passport covers I got make the metal detectors go off. So I got sent off with a very nice, very tall, female TSA agent to get wanded over. Then I realized it must be the passport covers, so I handed them to her, and she wanded me, (found nothing, of course) and then took the covers over to the guy who watches the carry on screening monitor, and he sent the covers through. I could hear him say derisively, "These aren't metal!" Since then, I've sent the covers through with our backpacks.
Our backpacks, incidently, are actually smaller than most of the carry ons we've seen. It's amazing how much crap people bring onto a plane!
Our flight to Dublin was long, about 8 hours. We flew north to Nova Scotia and then across the Atlantic. Not that we saw any of it, first it was dark, then we were asleep. They had veggie pasta for us, and it was actually pretty good. We watched some weird movie with that guy that Reese Witherspoon divorced. He's kind of a weenie. And the other guy was just bizarre.
I've got just a minute or 2 left on this internet dealy, which is much cheaper than anything we saw at home. $1 a minute in atlanta (i passed), here it's about $0.80 for ten minutes.
More from Zurich!
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Hurry up and wait.
The flight to chicago was delayed by almost an hour, and we had just 30 minutes to race across o'hare to get to our next flight to atlanta.
[I'm glad I checked this, because helpful at&t truncated almost the entire message.]
so we raced through the airport, checked in to our flight, waited a tiny bit, and then boarded our flight to atlanta. then we waited in atlanta's aiport for 8 hours. Eight. it was not the most exciting time we had.
[I'm glad I checked this, because helpful at&t truncated almost the entire message.]
so we raced through the airport, checked in to our flight, waited a tiny bit, and then boarded our flight to atlanta. then we waited in atlanta's aiport for 8 hours. Eight. it was not the most exciting time we had.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Graduation
Big Boy has officially graduated from high school. little boy is quite happy about the whole thing.
My mom is headed back home and I have a list half a page long of things to get done before we take off tomorrow.
For anyone interested in our "itinerary" so to speak, here goes:
Thursday, 7 June: leave Mpls for Chicago, then Chicago to Atlanta for an 8 hour layover. That evening, we fly overnight to Dublin.
Friday 8 June: We have a couple hours layover in Dublin before flying to Zurich. We arrive in Zurich 4pm local time and hang around until our flight leaves the next morning at 7am.
Saturday 9 June: Zurich to Moscow! We finally arrive in Russia 2pm local time, take an express train into the city to catch the metro and meet up with a new friend. We also pick up our train tickets to St. Petersburg. At 1am, we catch the overnight train to St. Pete.
Sunday 10 June: Arrive in St. Pete at 9:26am local time (we'll be 9 hours ahead of Central Standard Time and likely jetlagged all to heck!)
Check the previous post to see where we're staying in St. Pete.
Tuesday, 19 June: We take an overnight train to Moscow
Wednesday 20 June: Arrive early morning in Moscow, take our backpacks to our hostel and start exploring!
Tuesday 26 June: 7am flight from Moscow to Zurich, then Zurich to Dublin. We arrive late morning and have almost 24 hours in Dublin. Guinness here we come.
Wednesday 27 June: 11:30am flight from Dublin to Atlanta. Short layover, then to Chicago, then to Minneapolis.
My mom is headed back home and I have a list half a page long of things to get done before we take off tomorrow.
For anyone interested in our "itinerary" so to speak, here goes:
Thursday, 7 June: leave Mpls for Chicago, then Chicago to Atlanta for an 8 hour layover. That evening, we fly overnight to Dublin.
Friday 8 June: We have a couple hours layover in Dublin before flying to Zurich. We arrive in Zurich 4pm local time and hang around until our flight leaves the next morning at 7am.
Saturday 9 June: Zurich to Moscow! We finally arrive in Russia 2pm local time, take an express train into the city to catch the metro and meet up with a new friend. We also pick up our train tickets to St. Petersburg. At 1am, we catch the overnight train to St. Pete.
Sunday 10 June: Arrive in St. Pete at 9:26am local time (we'll be 9 hours ahead of Central Standard Time and likely jetlagged all to heck!)
Check the previous post to see where we're staying in St. Pete.
Tuesday, 19 June: We take an overnight train to Moscow
Wednesday 20 June: Arrive early morning in Moscow, take our backpacks to our hostel and start exploring!
Tuesday 26 June: 7am flight from Moscow to Zurich, then Zurich to Dublin. We arrive late morning and have almost 24 hours in Dublin. Guinness here we come.
Wednesday 27 June: 11:30am flight from Dublin to Atlanta. Short layover, then to Chicago, then to Minneapolis.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Some maps before we leave
Graduation party was yesterday. Anyone hungry? I still have tons of food.
Anyway. I don't have any running routes planned out yet, but I do have directions to the place we're staying at in St. Petersburg. It's here, near the Парк Победы metro station, building #53. The park is 2 miles around, which makes me wonder what's a quarter section doing sitting in the middle of this spoke-type city plan?
Here's where we're staying in Moscow. It's building 51K1. I wonder what the river looks like just to the west of Арбат. Is that all streets and crazy traffic, or are there any walking (running!) paths?
Click on the "hybrid" button on the upper right hand corner of the map; it's a much better view.
Anyway. I don't have any running routes planned out yet, but I do have directions to the place we're staying at in St. Petersburg. It's here, near the Парк Победы metro station, building #53. The park is 2 miles around, which makes me wonder what's a quarter section doing sitting in the middle of this spoke-type city plan?
Here's where we're staying in Moscow. It's building 51K1. I wonder what the river looks like just to the west of Арбат. Is that all streets and crazy traffic, or are there any walking (running!) paths?
Click on the "hybrid" button on the upper right hand corner of the map; it's a much better view.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Ready...Set...Go!
Alright, it's still a week until we leave. But, we're packed. We have euros. We have a Russian mobile phone number. We have train tickets to St. Pete. Our train leaves at 1:00 in the morning and arrives at 9:26 in the morning on Sunday the 10th. We have places to stay (St. Pete, Moscow). We have things to do. We have things to see. Let's go already!
We just have to get Big Boy graduated from high school (that will happen on Tuesday!), have a party for him (that will happen on Sunday!), visit with my mom (she's coming tomorrow!), get little boy ready for finals (poor guy, half the family is abandoning him. I think he'll like that, though), and brave the reorganized Northwest Airlines.
Oh, and I have to clean the house. Can't have mom seeing what filth we normally live in. We probably ought to build some temporary steps for the new sun porch door, can't have party-goers breaking ankles or falling out of the house. I bought a zillion things at Costco last night. Even gluten-free things for my celiac buddies. We have a gigantic cake on order. SO is going to order some sandwich trays today. I have to get to the liquor store to lay in enough beer. And ice.
Oh, and work. That would be a good thing, too. Rode my bike this morning - 3rd Friday in a row. I had a good running week, too, despite the wretched humidity. It'll be a 41 mile week and the most miles until I start marathon training when we return home at the end of June.
We just have to get Big Boy graduated from high school (that will happen on Tuesday!), have a party for him (that will happen on Sunday!), visit with my mom (she's coming tomorrow!), get little boy ready for finals (poor guy, half the family is abandoning him. I think he'll like that, though), and brave the reorganized Northwest Airlines.
Oh, and I have to clean the house. Can't have mom seeing what filth we normally live in. We probably ought to build some temporary steps for the new sun porch door, can't have party-goers breaking ankles or falling out of the house. I bought a zillion things at Costco last night. Even gluten-free things for my celiac buddies. We have a gigantic cake on order. SO is going to order some sandwich trays today. I have to get to the liquor store to lay in enough beer. And ice.
Oh, and work. That would be a good thing, too. Rode my bike this morning - 3rd Friday in a row. I had a good running week, too, despite the wretched humidity. It'll be a 41 mile week and the most miles until I start marathon training when we return home at the end of June.
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