I like this city a lot more than I expected to. Everyone in St Petersburg said that it would seem drab and dingy by comparison. But it's a vibrant city and quite beautiful in a more muscular sort of way. There's a lot of money flying around here these days and I think it gives the city a certain energy.
Even though I was here a week I still didn't see everything I hoped to. I had planned on going inside the Kremlin today. But after a week of warm, sunny weather I awoke to a cold, drizzly day. I walked down there, but the line was long, and more to the point, everyone I've talked to who went inside said it was disappointing.
So instead I used the afternoon to stock up on supplies for the train, including the one currency that's accepted everywhere: vodka.
Yesterday marked the two-month anniversary of my departure. By this time tomorrow I should be in Asia, my fourth continent in two months. The idea behind this trip was to backpack through Asia so in a way I'm just getting started! I still haven't been to any of what I envisioned to be the highlights of the trip, so hopefully the best is yet to come.
7/28/2008
Mystery solved
The name of my hostel here in Moscow is Yellow Blue Bus. The name is in English. It turns out that it's pretty close to the English spelling of how to say "I love you" in Russian. I'm so glad I didn't approach a Russian woman and ask her if she knew where my hostel was...
7/27/2008
Quote of the trip, thus far
A group of eight young Americans stayed a night in my hostel. They're in a Christian rock band came to Russia to perform in Archangel, which is way up north, on the coast near Finland.
There was also a guy named Daniel, who had spent two weeks in St Petersburg for a business class and was doing some sightseeing before heading home to Innsbruck, Austria.
We were all introducing ourselves. The missionary group is from California. One of them asked Daniel where he was from and he replied "I'm from the same place as your governor."
"Oh, cool, Sacramento."
I don't mean to sound harsh. Daniel speaks perfect English with only a slight accent, and the musicians were all quite nice (and educated). But it was pretty darn funny.
There was also a guy named Daniel, who had spent two weeks in St Petersburg for a business class and was doing some sightseeing before heading home to Innsbruck, Austria.
We were all introducing ourselves. The missionary group is from California. One of them asked Daniel where he was from and he replied "I'm from the same place as your governor."
"Oh, cool, Sacramento."
I don't mean to sound harsh. Daniel speaks perfect English with only a slight accent, and the musicians were all quite nice (and educated). But it was pretty darn funny.
7/26/2008
Siberia primer
I wrote about meeting my guardian angel at the St Petersburg airport. After that I met some girls from the UK at my hostel, who invited me out to dinner. They left the next day on the Trans-Siberian to spend some time in the Lake Baikal region.
Today I came back to my hostel and, in yet another "small world" moment, discovered that two weeks later my UK friends had flown from Siberia to Moscow and, in a city of over 10 million people, are staying at my hostel!
I'm not sure if I'll have internet access in Mongolia. I found out from them that I may not have internet access in Siberia. So I may not be online for a month or more. So here are some fun facts to ponder.
The numbers on Russia, and Siberia in particular, are hard to comprehend. Russia is more than twice as big as the US (including Alaska). Siberia is bigger than the US and Europe combined. The forested regions of Russia cover four times the area of the Amazon basin. Four of the 10 longest rivers in the world are (at least partially) in Siberia: Yenisey (4), Ob (7), Amur (9), Lena (10).
In two days I'll hop on a train to Irkutsk, which is at the southern end of Lake Baikal. I'll spend some time there but I'll spend four nights on Olkhon Island, at Nikta's Homestead, a guest house recommended by my UK friends. (Nikita is a former Russian table tennis champion!)
Baikal is by far the world's deepest lake, at 5,371 ft, more than a mile for those of you scoring at home. It is a completely unique ecosystem. Most of the animals and plants there don't exist anywhere else, including the nerpa, a species of ringed seal, the world's only freshwater seals.
It is estimated that the lake holds 15-20 percent of the world's fresh water. Think about that! More than the Great Lakes combined. Beneath the water is over 4 miles of sediment. It may also be the world's oldest lake, somewhere between 25 and 30 million years old.
Over 300 rivers flow into it, but only one, the Angara, flows out. The pressure at the bottom is so great that it would be impossible to fire a cannon there. And yet the golomyanka lives there, a translucent, scale-less fish that gives birth to live young. Though they live throughout the entire depth of the lake and are thus fairly immune to changes in water pressure, they are extremely sensitive to changes in temperature and literally melt in sunlight.
The chemical composition of the water is so unique that fish that swim downstream into the lake die. It's covered by ice up to six feet thick during the winter, thick enough for trucks to drive over.
I could go on. Is it obvious I'm excited to go there? It's something that's always fascinated me, yet another entry in this trip's list of "things that may only interest me."
Today I came back to my hostel and, in yet another "small world" moment, discovered that two weeks later my UK friends had flown from Siberia to Moscow and, in a city of over 10 million people, are staying at my hostel!
I'm not sure if I'll have internet access in Mongolia. I found out from them that I may not have internet access in Siberia. So I may not be online for a month or more. So here are some fun facts to ponder.
The numbers on Russia, and Siberia in particular, are hard to comprehend. Russia is more than twice as big as the US (including Alaska). Siberia is bigger than the US and Europe combined. The forested regions of Russia cover four times the area of the Amazon basin. Four of the 10 longest rivers in the world are (at least partially) in Siberia: Yenisey (4), Ob (7), Amur (9), Lena (10).
In two days I'll hop on a train to Irkutsk, which is at the southern end of Lake Baikal. I'll spend some time there but I'll spend four nights on Olkhon Island, at Nikta's Homestead, a guest house recommended by my UK friends. (Nikita is a former Russian table tennis champion!)
Baikal is by far the world's deepest lake, at 5,371 ft, more than a mile for those of you scoring at home. It is a completely unique ecosystem. Most of the animals and plants there don't exist anywhere else, including the nerpa, a species of ringed seal, the world's only freshwater seals.
It is estimated that the lake holds 15-20 percent of the world's fresh water. Think about that! More than the Great Lakes combined. Beneath the water is over 4 miles of sediment. It may also be the world's oldest lake, somewhere between 25 and 30 million years old.
Over 300 rivers flow into it, but only one, the Angara, flows out. The pressure at the bottom is so great that it would be impossible to fire a cannon there. And yet the golomyanka lives there, a translucent, scale-less fish that gives birth to live young. Though they live throughout the entire depth of the lake and are thus fairly immune to changes in water pressure, they are extremely sensitive to changes in temperature and literally melt in sunlight.
The chemical composition of the water is so unique that fish that swim downstream into the lake die. It's covered by ice up to six feet thick during the winter, thick enough for trucks to drive over.
I could go on. Is it obvious I'm excited to go there? It's something that's always fascinated me, yet another entry in this trip's list of "things that may only interest me."
An authentic Russian experience
The place and time to shop for souvenirs in Moscow is weekends in Ismailovsky Park. It's huge. And you can buy anything there. Shaving cream? Check. Used Soviet military pilot uniforms? Check? T-shirts? Check. Religious icons looted from churches? Check. Everything from the tackiest tourist crap to genuinely good original art.
And if you're looking for matrushkas, the nested wooden Russian dolls, there are thousands of styles available, traditional ones, and not-so-traditional ones painted like the Simpsons or the New York Yankees. Or one set which had Bill Clinton, with the smaller nested dolls all representing the women he had affairs with.
I would have liked to buy one of the icons, but I wasn't sure I'd be allowed to get it out of the country. Of course, market merchants will tell you just about anything to get you to buy their wares, so I knew it was a bad idea when the guy said, 'Yes, this will be problem.'
But I did buy a hand-painted poster from 1934 for the film 'Battleship Potemkin', which I'm really excited about. Although I haven't figured out yet how to get it home...
After doing the touristy thing I had my most authentic Russian experience. I went a banya, or public bath house.
I thought Nicaragua was hot. I thought the Sahara Desert was hot. The banya was so hot it was actually painful. It felt hot enough to melt lead but I'm told the temperature is only somewhere between 175 and 190 degrees Fahrenheit.
It's something I wanted to do, but was warned I shouldn't do without a companion who speaks Russian. My French friend Francois from the hostel speaks Russian, and had been, and agreed to go with me. I'm glad he did.
It's not that I would have felt uncomfortable as a tourist. The signs were in Russian and English. It's just that I would have never figured out the procedure!
You pay to get in -- a lot -- and go upstairs to the dressing area. You put your stuff in a locker, disrobe, then shower before entering the banya. You know how it feels walking from an air-conditioned room into the sunlight on a hot summer day? Walking into the steam room is like walking from an air-conditioned room into the sun itself.
You walk up the steps and sit on a wooden bench. The further you walk up, the hotter it gets. In fact, it's noticeably hotter if you simply stand up. Francois and I lasted two minutes on the top bench. When you get hot, you leave the steam room and get into a pool or tub of cold water. Then you repeat two or three times.
There are bundles of birch twigs lying around. Only birch. I'm not sure why. You douse them in water and take them into the steam room. To magnify the cleansing effect of the heat you smack your body with the birch twigs. All the locals do it, so we did it. I was skeptical, but it did produce a tingling sensation in addition to the feeling that my skin was cooking and peeling off.
For the Russians, it just can't get hot enough in there. I expected a pile of hot stones like you see in a sauna at a gym in the US. But there was a massive wood-burning stove about the size of a toll booth into which the locals would toss pail after pail of water. Then one of them would wave his towel around his head to disperse the heat. And then I would get up and go hop in the cold pool.
There is a bar, and in the dressing area groups of men sit around in their towels -- or out of them -- and drink beer or vodka and talk and watch sports. You go in the steam room, socialize a bit, then go back to the steam room.
This probably goes without saying, but no, I didn't take any pictures.
It was quite uncomfortable at times but quite relaxing. I can see how it could become a ritual. I feel like a wet noodle. I expect to sleep well tonight.
And if you're looking for matrushkas, the nested wooden Russian dolls, there are thousands of styles available, traditional ones, and not-so-traditional ones painted like the Simpsons or the New York Yankees. Or one set which had Bill Clinton, with the smaller nested dolls all representing the women he had affairs with.
I would have liked to buy one of the icons, but I wasn't sure I'd be allowed to get it out of the country. Of course, market merchants will tell you just about anything to get you to buy their wares, so I knew it was a bad idea when the guy said, 'Yes, this will be problem.'
But I did buy a hand-painted poster from 1934 for the film 'Battleship Potemkin', which I'm really excited about. Although I haven't figured out yet how to get it home...
After doing the touristy thing I had my most authentic Russian experience. I went a banya, or public bath house.
I thought Nicaragua was hot. I thought the Sahara Desert was hot. The banya was so hot it was actually painful. It felt hot enough to melt lead but I'm told the temperature is only somewhere between 175 and 190 degrees Fahrenheit.
It's something I wanted to do, but was warned I shouldn't do without a companion who speaks Russian. My French friend Francois from the hostel speaks Russian, and had been, and agreed to go with me. I'm glad he did.
It's not that I would have felt uncomfortable as a tourist. The signs were in Russian and English. It's just that I would have never figured out the procedure!
You pay to get in -- a lot -- and go upstairs to the dressing area. You put your stuff in a locker, disrobe, then shower before entering the banya. You know how it feels walking from an air-conditioned room into the sunlight on a hot summer day? Walking into the steam room is like walking from an air-conditioned room into the sun itself.
You walk up the steps and sit on a wooden bench. The further you walk up, the hotter it gets. In fact, it's noticeably hotter if you simply stand up. Francois and I lasted two minutes on the top bench. When you get hot, you leave the steam room and get into a pool or tub of cold water. Then you repeat two or three times.
There are bundles of birch twigs lying around. Only birch. I'm not sure why. You douse them in water and take them into the steam room. To magnify the cleansing effect of the heat you smack your body with the birch twigs. All the locals do it, so we did it. I was skeptical, but it did produce a tingling sensation in addition to the feeling that my skin was cooking and peeling off.
For the Russians, it just can't get hot enough in there. I expected a pile of hot stones like you see in a sauna at a gym in the US. But there was a massive wood-burning stove about the size of a toll booth into which the locals would toss pail after pail of water. Then one of them would wave his towel around his head to disperse the heat. And then I would get up and go hop in the cold pool.
There is a bar, and in the dressing area groups of men sit around in their towels -- or out of them -- and drink beer or vodka and talk and watch sports. You go in the steam room, socialize a bit, then go back to the steam room.
This probably goes without saying, but no, I didn't take any pictures.
It was quite uncomfortable at times but quite relaxing. I can see how it could become a ritual. I feel like a wet noodle. I expect to sleep well tonight.
7/25/2008
Moscow, cont.
I still haven't been in the Kremlin yet. I wanted to get around and see different parts of the city. I started in Red Square, where I watched the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It happens every hour and always draws a crowd.
From there I walked down to see the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. This was built in 1997 for Moscow's 850th birthday.
I didn't go in because I wasn't wearing shorts. This picture was taken from a footbridge over the Moscow River. Looking one way there's a nice view of Kremlin walls, with St Basil's on the right.
Looking the other way you can see yet another of the bizarre visual juxtapositions that fascinate me so much: On the left is an immense statue of Peter the Great. In the center is a tour boat. And on the right is a giant building for Megafon, a mobile phone company.
The church is built on the site of the site of another church of the same name that was leveled by Stalin. He planned on replacing it with a giant Palace of Soviets, featuring a 100-meter statue of Lenin. But it was never started. I'm sad the church was built, because I would have preferred to see what it replaced: the world's largest swimming pool.
Then I took the subway outside of town to walk up Sparrow Hill for what are supposedly the best views of the city. The views weren't so great, but you can see the stadiums and arenas they built for the 1980 Olympic games.
The hills are near the Moscow State University, so a lot of students go down to the river to hang out and sunbathe, as you can see in this picture taken from the metro station.
From there I walked down to see the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. This was built in 1997 for Moscow's 850th birthday.
I didn't go in because I wasn't wearing shorts. This picture was taken from a footbridge over the Moscow River. Looking one way there's a nice view of Kremlin walls, with St Basil's on the right.
Looking the other way you can see yet another of the bizarre visual juxtapositions that fascinate me so much: On the left is an immense statue of Peter the Great. In the center is a tour boat. And on the right is a giant building for Megafon, a mobile phone company.
The church is built on the site of the site of another church of the same name that was leveled by Stalin. He planned on replacing it with a giant Palace of Soviets, featuring a 100-meter statue of Lenin. But it was never started. I'm sad the church was built, because I would have preferred to see what it replaced: the world's largest swimming pool.
Then I took the subway outside of town to walk up Sparrow Hill for what are supposedly the best views of the city. The views weren't so great, but you can see the stadiums and arenas they built for the 1980 Olympic games.
The hills are near the Moscow State University, so a lot of students go down to the river to hang out and sunbathe, as you can see in this picture taken from the metro station.
7/24/2008
Dirty Harry moment
It is with great reluctance that I am changing my Russia itinerary. I had hoped to take the train through Siberia and make a couple stops along the way. But I've decided to stay in Moscow for a few more days, since I haven't seen much of it, and then take a non-stop train to Irkutsk, which is the jumping-off point for Lake Baikal.
It is, in a way, a more authentic Trans-Siberian trip, since rather than making a few "short" trips (by Russian standards) of 20 or 30 hours, I'll be on the train for about three days. I'll "only" be traveling about 3200 miles, for 76 hours and 42 minutes. And it will be exactly that. If there's one thing the Russians know it's trains. By my watch my train from St Petersburg to Moscow left 23 seconds early.
The Trans-Siberian runs from Moscow to Vladivostock on the Pacific Coast, a distance of 5771 miles. The whole trip takes seven to eight days, depending on the train. The Trans-Manchurian route makes a turn south in Chita, just past Lake Baikal, and heads onto Beijing. The Trans-Mongolian makes a turn south at Ulan Ude, just before Chita, and heads through Ulaan Bataar, the capital of Mongolia, and onto Beijing. This is the route I will travel.
I was hoping to change my itinerary to be in Novosibirsk, smack-dab in the center of Siberia, on August 1. There's a total eclipse of the sun that day, and Novosibirsk will be the best place in the world to see it. But there are simply no train tickets available to get there. People from all over the world are traveling there to see it so for probably the first and only time in history Novosibirsk will be the tourist capital of the world for a day.
"A man’s got to know his limitations," as Clint Eastwood memorably said at the end of "Magnum Force." I also decided to modify my itinerary because I have discovered my limitations. I can do okay getting around Russia. I didn't expect people here to speak English.
But buying train tickets in Russia is like going to the proctologist, only not as fun. Without knowing the language it's difficult, time-consuming and stressful. The women who work the counters (they're all women) don't speak a word of English and have absolutely no patience, even for Russians! I have heard them chew out quite a few of their countrymen. I was wasting too much time and making myself too miserable trying to work out the logistics, and not spending enough time sightseeing.
I finally broke down and paid a travel agent to book my last ticket. I had to pay a small fee, but it was worth every penny. I sat with a pleasant young woman who was anxious to practice her English and patiently worked with me as I requested times and prices for different routes. So here's a tip from your Uncle Jeff: If you ever decide to do the Trans-Siberian, book your tickets in advance and/or use a travel agent. It's worth the extra money. This is not the best country in which to "wing it," especially for a traveler as inexperienced as I am.
So I'll be in Moscow for a few more days and then hop on the train for Siberia on the 28th. My Trans-Sib guide book was the first one I bought when I first started pondering this trip about three years ago, and though I considered many possible routes the train ride was always the centerpiece.
I'm really, really excited.
It is, in a way, a more authentic Trans-Siberian trip, since rather than making a few "short" trips (by Russian standards) of 20 or 30 hours, I'll be on the train for about three days. I'll "only" be traveling about 3200 miles, for 76 hours and 42 minutes. And it will be exactly that. If there's one thing the Russians know it's trains. By my watch my train from St Petersburg to Moscow left 23 seconds early.
The Trans-Siberian runs from Moscow to Vladivostock on the Pacific Coast, a distance of 5771 miles. The whole trip takes seven to eight days, depending on the train. The Trans-Manchurian route makes a turn south in Chita, just past Lake Baikal, and heads onto Beijing. The Trans-Mongolian makes a turn south at Ulan Ude, just before Chita, and heads through Ulaan Bataar, the capital of Mongolia, and onto Beijing. This is the route I will travel.
I was hoping to change my itinerary to be in Novosibirsk, smack-dab in the center of Siberia, on August 1. There's a total eclipse of the sun that day, and Novosibirsk will be the best place in the world to see it. But there are simply no train tickets available to get there. People from all over the world are traveling there to see it so for probably the first and only time in history Novosibirsk will be the tourist capital of the world for a day.
"A man’s got to know his limitations," as Clint Eastwood memorably said at the end of "Magnum Force." I also decided to modify my itinerary because I have discovered my limitations. I can do okay getting around Russia. I didn't expect people here to speak English.
But buying train tickets in Russia is like going to the proctologist, only not as fun. Without knowing the language it's difficult, time-consuming and stressful. The women who work the counters (they're all women) don't speak a word of English and have absolutely no patience, even for Russians! I have heard them chew out quite a few of their countrymen. I was wasting too much time and making myself too miserable trying to work out the logistics, and not spending enough time sightseeing.
I finally broke down and paid a travel agent to book my last ticket. I had to pay a small fee, but it was worth every penny. I sat with a pleasant young woman who was anxious to practice her English and patiently worked with me as I requested times and prices for different routes. So here's a tip from your Uncle Jeff: If you ever decide to do the Trans-Siberian, book your tickets in advance and/or use a travel agent. It's worth the extra money. This is not the best country in which to "wing it," especially for a traveler as inexperienced as I am.
So I'll be in Moscow for a few more days and then hop on the train for Siberia on the 28th. My Trans-Sib guide book was the first one I bought when I first started pondering this trip about three years ago, and though I considered many possible routes the train ride was always the centerpiece.
I'm really, really excited.
Moscow and Siberia
Subways are not something I generally get excited about, but I had heard so much about the Moscow metro, and it was all true. It's incredible. I have not waited two minutes for a train, which is incredible considering it's the most-used subway system in the world. I've read that eight million people use it daily, more than New York and London combined.
Don't believe me? Check this out.
You need the subway to get around because Moscow is huge. You can see most of St Petersburg by walking, but not Moscow. Whether you count the population of the municipality or the metropolitan area, Moscow is the largest city in Europe. Yes, bigger than both London and Paris. Good trivia question. Some Europeans I've met take issue with that. I think they don't consider Russia European.
Geographically speaking, the dividing line between Europe and Asia is the Ural Mountains, in Russia. Moscow and St Petersburg are in Europe, while the vast majority of Russia is in Asia.
In fact, though there are different definitions of what Siberia is, historically it has been considered to be everything to the east of the Urals. So while Siberia brings to mind images of wintry landscapes, the territory extends to Russia's southern borders with Mongolia, China, Kazakhstan, etc. And it can get quite hot.
The coldest temperature ever recorded in the northern hemisphere is in Siberia: -96 degrees Fahrenheit. And people live there. (Check out the book "The Reindeer People" by Piers Vitebsky.) During the summer the temperature, in that same area, can get into the mid-80s. Which means that the temperature difference there can be greater than the difference between boiling water and ice!
Don't believe me? Check this out.
You need the subway to get around because Moscow is huge. You can see most of St Petersburg by walking, but not Moscow. Whether you count the population of the municipality or the metropolitan area, Moscow is the largest city in Europe. Yes, bigger than both London and Paris. Good trivia question. Some Europeans I've met take issue with that. I think they don't consider Russia European.
Geographically speaking, the dividing line between Europe and Asia is the Ural Mountains, in Russia. Moscow and St Petersburg are in Europe, while the vast majority of Russia is in Asia.
In fact, though there are different definitions of what Siberia is, historically it has been considered to be everything to the east of the Urals. So while Siberia brings to mind images of wintry landscapes, the territory extends to Russia's southern borders with Mongolia, China, Kazakhstan, etc. And it can get quite hot.
The coldest temperature ever recorded in the northern hemisphere is in Siberia: -96 degrees Fahrenheit. And people live there. (Check out the book "The Reindeer People" by Piers Vitebsky.) During the summer the temperature, in that same area, can get into the mid-80s. Which means that the temperature difference there can be greater than the difference between boiling water and ice!
Self-portrait: Red Square
Red Square was open to pedestrian traffic and it was a gorgeous sunny day, so I took some more pix. Here is Lenin's tomb with the reflection of yours truly in the bottom lefthand corner. (I'm the one holding the camera.)
I haven't been in St Basil's yet, but my gosh, what a magnificent building.
Legend the Terrible has it that Ivan the Terrible liked it so much that he had the architects blinded so they could never build anything so beautiful again. I guess he figured, "Heck, they're already calling me 'the Terrible,' so why not."
Here's another picture of the square in which you can sense the scale of it.
I haven't been in St Basil's yet, but my gosh, what a magnificent building.
Legend the Terrible has it that Ivan the Terrible liked it so much that he had the architects blinded so they could never build anything so beautiful again. I guess he figured, "Heck, they're already calling me 'the Terrible,' so why not."
Here's another picture of the square in which you can sense the scale of it.
Red Square at night
Red Square is lit up like something out of a Christmas special at night. But you can see the Russians are still working the whole tourist thing out. It's quite impressive, but the lighting is provided by giant spotlights attached to lightpoles. The effect is a bit harsh and obtrusive, and makes taking a decent picture difficult.
This is a nice view looking through Red Square from, but you can see from the position of the lights that it's nearly impossible to get a clean shot of St Basil's.
I had to get in really, really close to get this, and even so you can see the glare of a spotlight in the top right corner.
And it gives me no end of amusement the way communism has become a commercial product. Look at the way Lenin's tomb literally bathes in the light of the GUM shopping mall. You can't even read his name!
This is a nice view looking through Red Square from, but you can see from the position of the lights that it's nearly impossible to get a clean shot of St Basil's.
I had to get in really, really close to get this, and even so you can see the glare of a spotlight in the top right corner.
And it gives me no end of amusement the way communism has become a commercial product. Look at the way Lenin's tomb literally bathes in the light of the GUM shopping mall. You can't even read his name!
7/23/2008
First REAL post from Moscow
This is my first glimpse of Krasnaya Ploschad, or Red Square.
It was a bit eerie seeing it. Growing up I would usually only see pictures or footage from here when something bad was happening. I flashed back to images of military parades with high-stepping soldiers and ICBMs being wheeled through.
It was closed off today for some reason, which made it even more intimidating. At the far end is Pokrovsky Cathedral, better known as St Basil's. That's actually a misnomer, since St Basil's only refers to the northeastern chapel, which wasn't part of the original contruction. On the left is the Kremlin, with Lenin's Mausoleum in the center.
Here's a better picture.
I plan to go back and visit the Kremlin, and hopefully walk through Red Square, and get some better pictures.
The tomb is open to the public from 10:00 a.m. to 1 p.m., and is something you simply have to see while in Moscow. I can't say I enjoyed it, but I'm glad I went.
I have no pictures of it because, not only are pictures not allowed, you're not even allowed to take in a camera or celphone. You can't take in anything, as a matter of fact.
You may not speak. There are soldiers in every corner of every stairway, hall and room, and they will shush you if you do.
You may not wear shorts.
You may not put your hands in your pockets.
You must remove your hat.
It is free, however! This was the queue about 15 minutes before opening.
I was in and out in about 30 minutes, believe it or not. You're not allowed to linger around the tomb. You get about 20 seconds of viewing time before the soldiers move you along. It's very solemn and rather creepy.
Lenin's body is in a glass case, minus his brain, which was removed so Soviet scientists could study it and discover the root of his genius. They take him out from time to time and work their magic on him to make him presentable.
He is on display against his wishes and those of his widow. He wished to be buried in St Petersburg beside his mother. Boris Yeltsin tried to have him moved in the 1990s, but the political left (and tour operators) managed to block the move. Yeltsin was probably less interested in seeing Lenin's wishes fulfilled than removing the literal embodiment of communism from the Russian capital.
Across from the icon of communism is perhaps the ultimate symbol of capitalism, a luxury shopping mall called GUM (goom).
Here is Lenin's tomb in the background with GUM in the foreground. Is there a more jarring contradiction anywhere in the world?
My guide book says of the black market, "Once the sale of a pair of Levis in Moscow could cover your spending money for the entire trip but this is just not the case anymore." In fact, since I needed a pair of jeans, I decided to buy a pair here! I got a kick out of the irony of buying a pair of Levi's in Moscow on Red Square. (Don't ask the price.)
Afterwards I went with two guys from my hostel, Alex (Greece) and Francois (France) to the Memorial Museum of Cosmonautics, celebrating the Russian space program. It's on the right here, with some sort of tower and a hot-air balloon ride on the left. It's hard to believe it was built by the Soviets.
Inside you can have your picture taken in a replica of Yuri Gagarin's spacesuit. (He was the first man into space. The first woman in space was also Russian.) You can do this when it's open. It wasn't today. All renovations and construction is done here in the summer, even though it's tourist season, because they can't do it in the Russian winter. Paint and concrete won't dry properly when it's 20 below.
7/22/2008
Oops
No, I wasn't kidnapped by the Russian mafia.
I've been in a bit of a jam the past few days. Long story short, I'm in Moscow but my wallet is somewhere in St Petersburg. So I had to lay low while I sorted the situation out and found a bank that would give me a cash advance on my credit card. I knew there would be days like this, but why here?!
I'm getting ready to travel 5,000 miles by train in a country where I can't even read the language, let alone speak it. And then I'm going to yet another country where I don't speak the language and don't expect to find many people who speak mine. Mongolia is arguably the most remote country on earth and is definitely the most sparsely populated. And from there I'm going to China ... not an ideal situation to be in without any cash.
But everything is straightened out. I lost a little money and two days of sightseeing, but I'm sticking to the plan. I'll have two and half days of sightseeing in Moscow and then I'm hopping on a train and heading east to Siberia.
I haven't seen anything in Moscow yet. I literally haven't seen Red Square or the Kremlin. I realized today that I'd been here for two full days and hadn't taken any pictures! So here's a picture from my hostel, called Yellow Blue Bus. (The name of the place is in English. And I don't know how it got the name. And it's impossible to find, like all other Russian hostels.)
From the left are Francois (France), Kiyoshi (US) and Stefan (France). Stefan just this minute left for Mongolia. Kiyoshi recently flew to Moscow from Mongolia -- he didn't take the train! -- after going there to build a house for Habitat for Humanity. Pretty cool, eh?
On the table in front of Kiyoshi is a bottle of kbac (kvass), a non-alcoholic brew, kind of a cross between beer and Coke. Don't worry, there's beer there too.
I've been in a bit of a jam the past few days. Long story short, I'm in Moscow but my wallet is somewhere in St Petersburg. So I had to lay low while I sorted the situation out and found a bank that would give me a cash advance on my credit card. I knew there would be days like this, but why here?!
I'm getting ready to travel 5,000 miles by train in a country where I can't even read the language, let alone speak it. And then I'm going to yet another country where I don't speak the language and don't expect to find many people who speak mine. Mongolia is arguably the most remote country on earth and is definitely the most sparsely populated. And from there I'm going to China ... not an ideal situation to be in without any cash.
But everything is straightened out. I lost a little money and two days of sightseeing, but I'm sticking to the plan. I'll have two and half days of sightseeing in Moscow and then I'm hopping on a train and heading east to Siberia.
I haven't seen anything in Moscow yet. I literally haven't seen Red Square or the Kremlin. I realized today that I'd been here for two full days and hadn't taken any pictures! So here's a picture from my hostel, called Yellow Blue Bus. (The name of the place is in English. And I don't know how it got the name. And it's impossible to find, like all other Russian hostels.)
From the left are Francois (France), Kiyoshi (US) and Stefan (France). Stefan just this minute left for Mongolia. Kiyoshi recently flew to Moscow from Mongolia -- he didn't take the train! -- after going there to build a house for Habitat for Humanity. Pretty cool, eh?
On the table in front of Kiyoshi is a bottle of kbac (kvass), a non-alcoholic brew, kind of a cross between beer and Coke. Don't worry, there's beer there too.
7/20/2008
First post from Moscow
I rode on my first Russian train today. Technically it's not part of the Trans-Siberian, since it's a local train that runs to/from St Petersburg, but it's a start. Then I had to take the subway and even switch trains to get to my hostel. So I'm pretty pleased to be here typing this.
Of course, they're overbooked, so I'll be sleeping on an air mattress, but I'm only in this hostel for one night and will be leaving first thing in the morning, so no big deal.
Of course, they're overbooked, so I'll be sleeping on an air mattress, but I'm only in this hostel for one night and will be leaving first thing in the morning, so no big deal.
7/19/2008
Administrative stuff
I added a widget to the page so that you can subscribe. Also, most of the people I've met so far are facebook members, so I signed up. I haven't had much time to work on my page, but if you're a member, let me know.
A friend in need
I started thinking about this trip and doing research about three years ago. A neighbor of mine named Zach Sowers put me in touch with his friend Pat, who had recently returned from an extended backpacking trip. Meeting Pat really inspired me. But I still kept finding reasons to not do it, rather than figuring out a way to make it happen.
My career was going nowhere, but I didn't know what other career I might like to pursue. I was living in a crappy house in a crappy neighborhood in a crappy town, but I didn't know where I might like to move. I was in a serious rut.
A little over a year ago, and just a few months after he and his wife Anna were married, Zach was attacked by four teenagers in front of his house and beaten into a coma. It happened two blocks from my house. I walked past their house three times a day, every day, when I walked my dogs.
The wretched human offal who run the criminal justice system in Baltimore cut deals with all of the attackers. They told Anna with a straight face that there was no way a Baltimore city jury would convict four African-American teenagers. Part of the deal being that they wouldn't face additional charges if Zach passed away. Sadly, this happened a few months ago.
Friends of Zach's created a support website, which I linked to when I created this blog. When Zach passed away I removed the link. My mistake.
I was quite angry to learn that Anna is still battling with the city. So I have reposted the link to Zach's website. Please read it and do whatever you can to help.
http://zachsowers.com/
When people ask me why I decided to take the trip at this point in my life I usually say "The time was right" or something similarly vague. But the precipitating event was when Zach was attacked. I thought that if I was waiting for a sign that it was time to see the world, that was it.
At the time I was recovering from back surgery, and it took another five months or so to get back to a normal routine. I knew as soon as I was able I would go. I can say in all seriousness that if I hadn't met Zach I wouldn't be traveling now. That sounds a bit selfish, I know, but given the choice I'd rather still be in Baltimore and seeing him in the dog park every day.
My career was going nowhere, but I didn't know what other career I might like to pursue. I was living in a crappy house in a crappy neighborhood in a crappy town, but I didn't know where I might like to move. I was in a serious rut.
A little over a year ago, and just a few months after he and his wife Anna were married, Zach was attacked by four teenagers in front of his house and beaten into a coma. It happened two blocks from my house. I walked past their house three times a day, every day, when I walked my dogs.
The wretched human offal who run the criminal justice system in Baltimore cut deals with all of the attackers. They told Anna with a straight face that there was no way a Baltimore city jury would convict four African-American teenagers. Part of the deal being that they wouldn't face additional charges if Zach passed away. Sadly, this happened a few months ago.
Friends of Zach's created a support website, which I linked to when I created this blog. When Zach passed away I removed the link. My mistake.
I was quite angry to learn that Anna is still battling with the city. So I have reposted the link to Zach's website. Please read it and do whatever you can to help.
http://zachsowers.com/
When people ask me why I decided to take the trip at this point in my life I usually say "The time was right" or something similarly vague. But the precipitating event was when Zach was attacked. I thought that if I was waiting for a sign that it was time to see the world, that was it.
At the time I was recovering from back surgery, and it took another five months or so to get back to a normal routine. I knew as soon as I was able I would go. I can say in all seriousness that if I hadn't met Zach I wouldn't be traveling now. That sounds a bit selfish, I know, but given the choice I'd rather still be in Baltimore and seeing him in the dog park every day.
Random thoughts on St Petersburg
I bought my first train ticket yesterday. Quite an adventure. Here it is:
I had hoped to take an overnight train to Moscow, but I waited too long to buy my ticket and there were no seats available. Being an umemployed travel bum, I forget that some people actually, you know, work for a living. So it didn't occur to me that it might be a problem getting a ticket on a Sunday night. All the Muscovites who come to St Petersburg for the weekend take the overnight trains on Sunday so they can be at work on Monday.
So I had to book a train in the afternoon, which means one less day in St Petersburg, which means I won't be able to go to Pushkin Palace and see the famous Amber Room. Bummer.
I went to the Dostoevsky Museum today, which was a ripoff, but I did take this picture, even though I probably wasn't allowed. This is his tobacco box. On the lid his daughter wrote "Papa died today" and the date of his death.
(Note to my Russian friends: This is what the audio guide said it says. I take no responsibility for the translation.)
It was a nice, sunny day so, despite my first Russian hangover, I took some pictures of some landmarks. Here is one of the canals here in "Northern Venice":
Baltimoreans may recognize this guy. Yuri Temirkanov the Music Director and Chief Conductor of the Saint Petersburg Philharmonic but he was also Music Director of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra from 2000 until 2006.
I had hoped to take an overnight train to Moscow, but I waited too long to buy my ticket and there were no seats available. Being an umemployed travel bum, I forget that some people actually, you know, work for a living. So it didn't occur to me that it might be a problem getting a ticket on a Sunday night. All the Muscovites who come to St Petersburg for the weekend take the overnight trains on Sunday so they can be at work on Monday.
So I had to book a train in the afternoon, which means one less day in St Petersburg, which means I won't be able to go to Pushkin Palace and see the famous Amber Room. Bummer.
I went to the Dostoevsky Museum today, which was a ripoff, but I did take this picture, even though I probably wasn't allowed. This is his tobacco box. On the lid his daughter wrote "Papa died today" and the date of his death.
(Note to my Russian friends: This is what the audio guide said it says. I take no responsibility for the translation.)
It was a nice, sunny day so, despite my first Russian hangover, I took some pictures of some landmarks. Here is one of the canals here in "Northern Venice":
Baltimoreans may recognize this guy. Yuri Temirkanov the Music Director and Chief Conductor of the Saint Petersburg Philharmonic but he was also Music Director of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra from 2000 until 2006.
The Hermitage
Today I went back to the Hermitage and took about a million pictures, mostly of the rooms themselves. There are 1,057 halls and rooms, such as this one, which apparently is where the tsar watched TV. You think they could have afforded to buy a sofa and some chairs.
There are two small paintings by Leonardo da Vinci and they draw quite a crowd. They're both covered in glass so it's tough to get a good picture even when you've fought your way to the front.
By contrast, this room wasn't quite as popular. There are only two paintings. A recently restored Rubens, and another which is currently being restored. Every room in the museum has an attendant. I felt sorry for the poor lonely babushka in the back corner.
I suppose I should show some pictures of the artwork, too. This is "Bush" by Vincent Van Gogh:
"Crouching Boy" by Michelango:
"Young Women in the Garden" by Louis Valtat:
A couple more rooms. It's hard to believe that this was actually built to be someone's house. It's good to be the king! (Or tsar, in this case.)
In this last shot you can see how crowded the place gets. This next picture was taken at at 3 p.m.
This is the queue to get in. It goes all the way through the archway in the back and about 100 feet out the other side. The first day I went to the museum I waited in a line about 1/4 this long and it took an hour. So I don't think most of these people will even get in, let alone see anything.
I bought a ticket online for my second trip. For whatever reason it took several days for me to get it, but it was worth it. If you buy your ticket online, you don't have to wait in line. I went in through the exit door and went up to the information desk to ask where to redeem my voucher. The woman came out from behind the desk and personally escorted me to the front of the queue and handed my paperwork to the cashier! And yes, the people in line seemed pretty pissed.
There are two small paintings by Leonardo da Vinci and they draw quite a crowd. They're both covered in glass so it's tough to get a good picture even when you've fought your way to the front.
By contrast, this room wasn't quite as popular. There are only two paintings. A recently restored Rubens, and another which is currently being restored. Every room in the museum has an attendant. I felt sorry for the poor lonely babushka in the back corner.
I suppose I should show some pictures of the artwork, too. This is "Bush" by Vincent Van Gogh:
"Crouching Boy" by Michelango:
"Young Women in the Garden" by Louis Valtat:
A couple more rooms. It's hard to believe that this was actually built to be someone's house. It's good to be the king! (Or tsar, in this case.)
In this last shot you can see how crowded the place gets. This next picture was taken at at 3 p.m.
This is the queue to get in. It goes all the way through the archway in the back and about 100 feet out the other side. The first day I went to the museum I waited in a line about 1/4 this long and it took an hour. So I don't think most of these people will even get in, let alone see anything.
I bought a ticket online for my second trip. For whatever reason it took several days for me to get it, but it was worth it. If you buy your ticket online, you don't have to wait in line. I went in through the exit door and went up to the information desk to ask where to redeem my voucher. The woman came out from behind the desk and personally escorted me to the front of the queue and handed my paperwork to the cashier! And yes, the people in line seemed pretty pissed.
7/18/2008
Which country am I in again?
I had to switch hostels due to a typically Russian Orwellian mixup I'll try to relate in a future post. This is my new hostel:
Can you see it? Of course you can't. It's the unmarked red door between Citibank and McDonald's, and is anything more Russian than that?
For some reason Russian hostels are never marked. Finding them can be quite a challenge. These are the official directions to my hostel in Moscow from the hostelworld website:
""- Exit the Sukharevskaya metro station to the right. You will see a park in front of you. Walk along the park, following the Sadovoe Koltso road (Garden Ring in English) about 100 meters to the second intersection.
- Our building is 16/18 and it faces the Sadovoe Koltso road.
- Walk to the farthest end of the building. Our entrance is a doorway to the right of the French bakery with bread in the window. Please note there are no clear markings on the door indicating the hostel.
- on the intercom press 005K and we will let you in. Otherwise, you can press 222 K 222 and let yourself in.
- take the elevator to the 4th floor.
If you have any difficulties, please call us."
It reads like something out of a 1970s Cold War spy novel!
I'm starting to get the hang of reading Russian. One thing that helps is that, unlike English or Spanish, every letter is pronounced. (To my Russian-speaking friends: Yes, I know I'm oversimplifying. Work with me.)
The McDonald's sign is a good start for teaching yourself Russian. If it were spelled MacDonald's the sign would be the letter-by-letter phonetic equivalent.
The owner of my new hostel is a blind musician from New Zealand. As Dave Barry would say, I swear I am not making this up. I mention that he is blind because it perhaps helps explain the condition of the place. A CIA dossier on Che Guevara once famously noted that he was "really outstandingly and spectacularly dirty." I can't think of a better phrase for this place.
Russian hostels generally have a reputation for being a bit grubby. This place begs disbelief. It's downright funny. I don't want to sound too harsh. The owner took me out and got me drunk last night, after all. But when you travel on a budget you take your chances. I'm only here for one more night so no big deal.
In journalism school they teach you to look for the "telling detail," the one thing that best sums up your subject. Most hostels I've been in don't allow smoking indoors. I'm sharing a dorm room with five other guys, one of whom is a 60ish Irishman named Ed who apparently lives here. Ed has an ashtray in his bed.
Can you see it? Of course you can't. It's the unmarked red door between Citibank and McDonald's, and is anything more Russian than that?
For some reason Russian hostels are never marked. Finding them can be quite a challenge. These are the official directions to my hostel in Moscow from the hostelworld website:
""- Exit the Sukharevskaya metro station to the right. You will see a park in front of you. Walk along the park, following the Sadovoe Koltso road (Garden Ring in English) about 100 meters to the second intersection.
- Our building is 16/18 and it faces the Sadovoe Koltso road.
- Walk to the farthest end of the building. Our entrance is a doorway to the right of the French bakery with bread in the window. Please note there are no clear markings on the door indicating the hostel.
- on the intercom press 005K and we will let you in. Otherwise, you can press 222 K 222 and let yourself in.
- take the elevator to the 4th floor.
If you have any difficulties, please call us."
It reads like something out of a 1970s Cold War spy novel!
I'm starting to get the hang of reading Russian. One thing that helps is that, unlike English or Spanish, every letter is pronounced. (To my Russian-speaking friends: Yes, I know I'm oversimplifying. Work with me.)
The McDonald's sign is a good start for teaching yourself Russian. If it were spelled MacDonald's the sign would be the letter-by-letter phonetic equivalent.
The owner of my new hostel is a blind musician from New Zealand. As Dave Barry would say, I swear I am not making this up. I mention that he is blind because it perhaps helps explain the condition of the place. A CIA dossier on Che Guevara once famously noted that he was "really outstandingly and spectacularly dirty." I can't think of a better phrase for this place.
Russian hostels generally have a reputation for being a bit grubby. This place begs disbelief. It's downright funny. I don't want to sound too harsh. The owner took me out and got me drunk last night, after all. But when you travel on a budget you take your chances. I'm only here for one more night so no big deal.
In journalism school they teach you to look for the "telling detail," the one thing that best sums up your subject. Most hostels I've been in don't allow smoking indoors. I'm sharing a dorm room with five other guys, one of whom is a 60ish Irishman named Ed who apparently lives here. Ed has an ashtray in his bed.
7/17/2008
St Petersburg at night
One of the iconic symbols of St Petersburg is its bridges. Peter the Great wanted a "Northern Venice," so the city was designed so that certain parts are best approached by boat via the Neva River or the canals that criss-cross the city.
There are seven drawbridges that open at close on a set schedule every night to let ships go through, some from 1:30 a.m to 5:00 a.m. If you happen to be on the wrong side of the bridge when it opens, well, as they say here in Russia, you're screwed. There is simply no way to get back until the bridge goes back down.
I had been meaning to walk down at night and take pictures of the bridges up. Walking around a foreign city at 2 a.m. seems a little crazy, especially in the rain, but a lot of people were down there, including guards on the bridges, presumably to keep drunken idiots from trying to swim home.
This is a really crappy picture because of the rain, but you get the idea:
This is a slightly better picture of the Alexander Column and vast Palace Square behind the Hermitage. At the bottom of the column on the left you can see a guy playing saxophone. At 2 a.m. in the rain.
There are seven drawbridges that open at close on a set schedule every night to let ships go through, some from 1:30 a.m to 5:00 a.m. If you happen to be on the wrong side of the bridge when it opens, well, as they say here in Russia, you're screwed. There is simply no way to get back until the bridge goes back down.
I had been meaning to walk down at night and take pictures of the bridges up. Walking around a foreign city at 2 a.m. seems a little crazy, especially in the rain, but a lot of people were down there, including guards on the bridges, presumably to keep drunken idiots from trying to swim home.
This is a really crappy picture because of the rain, but you get the idea:
This is a slightly better picture of the Alexander Column and vast Palace Square behind the Hermitage. At the bottom of the column on the left you can see a guy playing saxophone. At 2 a.m. in the rain.
The Russian Museum
Even though the Hermitage boasts the world's largest art collection it has very little Russian art. Works by and of Russians are housed primarily in The Russian Museum. In any other city this would be the centerpiece museum. But here you can walk right in while just a few blocks away people queue up for hours to get into the Hermitage.
Both museums are in former palaces, so it's often the rooms themselves on display, like this parlor. The windows on the right look out over a vast lawn and gardens.
The main attraction is Karl Brullov's enormous "The Last Day of Pompeii." It goes from floor to ceiling.
And I liked this rather different rendering of "The Last Supper" by Nikolai Ghe. The dark figure in the foreground is Judas. You can't tell from the picture how sinister he looks.
Ssh, don't tell anyone: I took these pix without paying the 200 ruble fee (about $10).
Both museums are in former palaces, so it's often the rooms themselves on display, like this parlor. The windows on the right look out over a vast lawn and gardens.
The main attraction is Karl Brullov's enormous "The Last Day of Pompeii." It goes from floor to ceiling.
And I liked this rather different rendering of "The Last Supper" by Nikolai Ghe. The dark figure in the foreground is Judas. You can't tell from the picture how sinister he looks.
Ssh, don't tell anyone: I took these pix without paying the 200 ruble fee (about $10).
7/16/2008
Dostoevsky Day
Today I decided to visit a few sites that would require me to navigate my way around the city. I wanted to work on reading maps and signs in Russian. I did a Dostoevsky tour. One of my favorite authors lived and wrote and was imprisoned and was buried right here in St Petersburg. It was another day of "Things That May Interest Only Me."
Just a few blocks from my hostel is a house where he lived. And at the far end of town is a monastery in which he is buried. It's sort of a celebrity graveyard, with some of the most influential and famous former city residents buried there, including the composers Rimsky-Korsakov and Mussorgsky.
This is me at Dostoevsky's grave:
Just a few blocks from my hostel is a house where he lived. And at the far end of town is a monastery in which he is buried. It's sort of a celebrity graveyard, with some of the most influential and famous former city residents buried there, including the composers Rimsky-Korsakov and Mussorgsky.
This is me at Dostoevsky's grave:
7/14/2008
First impressions of the Russians
I had planned on using today to run some errands and unwind a bit, but my new Aussie friends invited me along on day trip. Dima, a Russian guy from Moscow, also tagged along. I'm pooped, but I'm glad I took the trip. It was a good introduction to how to get around here, and having a Russian citizen along also saved me some money.
Foreigners pay far more than Russians to visit Russian tourist sites, usually two to three times as much. So Dima was able to score us all citizen tickets to Petrodvorets and save us a few bucks.
Petrodvorets is another imperial palace outside of town. This is not it:
This is a subway station. The subway stations here, and even more so in Moscow, I'm told, can be quite impressive, with statues, chandeliers, columns made of marble or, in this case, encased in carved glass. (The red wooden skirts are there to protect them.) St Petersburg also has the the world's deepest subways, with some of the stations nearly 200 feet below ground. That way they could double as bomb shelters. Hopefully I won't be putting that theory to the test.
This is the palace. Bear in mind it was a cloudy day:
This is a view down the canal from the Gulf of Finland to the palace:
Bear in mind as you look at this that the palace itself was actually closed today. Visitors were allowed to tour the grounds but not go inside. And the place was packed.
I wondered how many tourists I'd encounter here. They're everywhere. The Hermitage was so crowded it was hard to get around at times. There are a lot of cruise ship groups, but the vast majority of tourists are Russians.
My theory (as with all my theories, this is based entirely on my keen powers of perception and vast intellect with no actual evidence whatsoever) is this: During the Soviet era Russians weren't allowed to travel, and after the fall of communism no one could afford to. Now that Putin has the country back on its feet again people can travel, often for the very first time.
One thing I love about the Russians is how much fun they have taking pictures. They love to pose. You'll see families with elaborately choreographed arrangements. Girls here love to vamp, striking seductive poses, often going to great lengths to do it. Check out this girl:
The rock she's standing on is in the Gulf of Finland, so the water is freezing.
It's a cloudy day and there is absolutely nothing to see behind her! Here's another pic of the same scene:
In the center of this picture, in the distance by the far shore of the beach you can see another girl standing on the rock posing. And in the foreground you can see where raw sewage flows into the water...
Foreigners pay far more than Russians to visit Russian tourist sites, usually two to three times as much. So Dima was able to score us all citizen tickets to Petrodvorets and save us a few bucks.
Petrodvorets is another imperial palace outside of town. This is not it:
This is a subway station. The subway stations here, and even more so in Moscow, I'm told, can be quite impressive, with statues, chandeliers, columns made of marble or, in this case, encased in carved glass. (The red wooden skirts are there to protect them.) St Petersburg also has the the world's deepest subways, with some of the stations nearly 200 feet below ground. That way they could double as bomb shelters. Hopefully I won't be putting that theory to the test.
This is the palace. Bear in mind it was a cloudy day:
This is a view down the canal from the Gulf of Finland to the palace:
Bear in mind as you look at this that the palace itself was actually closed today. Visitors were allowed to tour the grounds but not go inside. And the place was packed.
I wondered how many tourists I'd encounter here. They're everywhere. The Hermitage was so crowded it was hard to get around at times. There are a lot of cruise ship groups, but the vast majority of tourists are Russians.
My theory (as with all my theories, this is based entirely on my keen powers of perception and vast intellect with no actual evidence whatsoever) is this: During the Soviet era Russians weren't allowed to travel, and after the fall of communism no one could afford to. Now that Putin has the country back on its feet again people can travel, often for the very first time.
One thing I love about the Russians is how much fun they have taking pictures. They love to pose. You'll see families with elaborately choreographed arrangements. Girls here love to vamp, striking seductive poses, often going to great lengths to do it. Check out this girl:
The rock she's standing on is in the Gulf of Finland, so the water is freezing.
It's a cloudy day and there is absolutely nothing to see behind her! Here's another pic of the same scene:
In the center of this picture, in the distance by the far shore of the beach you can see another girl standing on the rock posing. And in the foreground you can see where raw sewage flows into the water...
7/13/2008
First impressions of Russia
Tsar Nicolas I said of St Petersburg "It is in Russia -- but it is not Russian!" Peter the Great built the city from scratch in just nine years in the early 1700s because Russia was considered a backwater, and he wanted a more modern, more "European" city. The city is, by all accounts, one of the most beautiful in the world.
But it is not Russian. Moscow is Russian. So I'll wait until I get there to form any real impression of the country.
I did a foot tour of the city today with an Aussie couple I met here who were nice enough to invite me along. This is me on the the Neva River, with The State Hermitage Museum in the background. The city is at roughly the same latitude as Anchorage, Alaska. You can see I was quite comfortable in my shorts and a polo shirt, but it's 11:30 pm and the sun hasn't set yet!
The museum is the centerpiece of St Petersburg and of the world's great art museums, with the largest collection in the world. It's housed partly in the Winter Palace, a place of almost obscene splendor. You can see how big it is. Even at a distance it fills the camera frame, and it's as wide as it is long. I plan to go back and do a more thorough tour because, get this, you can take pictures inside! (For a fee, of course.)
The entry to my hostel is dirty and dingy and a little scary. The hostel itself is on the third floor, and it's wonderful. The girls who work here are friendly (and beautiful!) and speak perfect English. I'm sleeping in an 8-bed dorm room but this is the bathroom:
My hostel bathroom has a jacuzzi!
St Petersburg has produced some of Russia's favorite sons: Vladimir Putin is from here, as were Pushkin, Gogol and Dostoevsky. I can only assume that this place is named after of one of his novels, otherwise it's a pretty lousy name for a restaurant:
But it is not Russian. Moscow is Russian. So I'll wait until I get there to form any real impression of the country.
I did a foot tour of the city today with an Aussie couple I met here who were nice enough to invite me along. This is me on the the Neva River, with The State Hermitage Museum in the background. The city is at roughly the same latitude as Anchorage, Alaska. You can see I was quite comfortable in my shorts and a polo shirt, but it's 11:30 pm and the sun hasn't set yet!
The museum is the centerpiece of St Petersburg and of the world's great art museums, with the largest collection in the world. It's housed partly in the Winter Palace, a place of almost obscene splendor. You can see how big it is. Even at a distance it fills the camera frame, and it's as wide as it is long. I plan to go back and do a more thorough tour because, get this, you can take pictures inside! (For a fee, of course.)
The entry to my hostel is dirty and dingy and a little scary. The hostel itself is on the third floor, and it's wonderful. The girls who work here are friendly (and beautiful!) and speak perfect English. I'm sleeping in an 8-bed dorm room but this is the bathroom:
My hostel bathroom has a jacuzzi!
St Petersburg has produced some of Russia's favorite sons: Vladimir Putin is from here, as were Pushkin, Gogol and Dostoevsky. I can only assume that this place is named after of one of his novels, otherwise it's a pretty lousy name for a restaurant:
7/12/2008
Not, repeat NOT in a Russian gulag. Yet.
I'm writing this from my hostel in St Petersburg, Russia, where I just arrived. It's called the Crazy Duck. Hmm, I wonder if they cater to western tourists?
This was the one leg I was most concerned about. First, not only can't I speak the language, I can't even read the alphabet. In Spanish I could at least sound words out. So that had me stressed out.
Russia is notorious for being the most difficult country to enter. Getting a visa is a pain. You have to register with the local authorities every time you visit a new city. You can expect to be stopped by policemen and asked for your paperwork. And it can be even harder to leave if your paperwork isn't in order! Lose your exit voucher and expect to pay a fine of $500 or more.
But I had an additional headache, which I learned about a week before I left, when I went to the Russian embassy in DC to get my visa. My visa is a bit beat up. Officially an "altered" or "mutilated" passport is invalid. The girl at the embassy told me there was "a 50-50 chance" (her words) I would get turned away at the border.
I believe if you try to enter the country with fraudulent documents you can be arrested. So that was weighing on my mind. I was considering what to do for Plan B, if I wasn't allowed in the country.
It was nervewracking, but I'm in. It's rainy and I'm tired from getting up at 3 a.m. and traveling all day, but I'm in!
And not only that, I met a guardian angel as soon as I left the airport. The directions to the hostel were surprisingly good. They gave me the bus number I needed, the metro stop, etc. But there was still a lot to figure out. It's raining here, so I ducked into the bus stop to look at my guide book. I looked up and I was standing next to a Russian supermodel. Or at least she should be. I tried not to stare, but I did, and got caught, so I quickly buried my head in my book.
She asks me in fluent English, "Do you need help?" It just so happened she was getting on a bus to the subway station and would be happy to help me find my way. Tall, long reddish-brown hair, green eyes. I'm in the country for five minutes and I'm already in love!
It turns out she teaches English. I asked her if she would be willing to work as a tour guide, but I guess she thought I was joking... So, sadly, we parted ways, but it was a pretty good introduction to St Petersburg.
I'm going to face my share of challenges, but to a certain degree it's all downhill from here. Assuming I can get OUT of Russia, of course...
This was the one leg I was most concerned about. First, not only can't I speak the language, I can't even read the alphabet. In Spanish I could at least sound words out. So that had me stressed out.
Russia is notorious for being the most difficult country to enter. Getting a visa is a pain. You have to register with the local authorities every time you visit a new city. You can expect to be stopped by policemen and asked for your paperwork. And it can be even harder to leave if your paperwork isn't in order! Lose your exit voucher and expect to pay a fine of $500 or more.
But I had an additional headache, which I learned about a week before I left, when I went to the Russian embassy in DC to get my visa. My visa is a bit beat up. Officially an "altered" or "mutilated" passport is invalid. The girl at the embassy told me there was "a 50-50 chance" (her words) I would get turned away at the border.
I believe if you try to enter the country with fraudulent documents you can be arrested. So that was weighing on my mind. I was considering what to do for Plan B, if I wasn't allowed in the country.
It was nervewracking, but I'm in. It's rainy and I'm tired from getting up at 3 a.m. and traveling all day, but I'm in!
And not only that, I met a guardian angel as soon as I left the airport. The directions to the hostel were surprisingly good. They gave me the bus number I needed, the metro stop, etc. But there was still a lot to figure out. It's raining here, so I ducked into the bus stop to look at my guide book. I looked up and I was standing next to a Russian supermodel. Or at least she should be. I tried not to stare, but I did, and got caught, so I quickly buried my head in my book.
She asks me in fluent English, "Do you need help?" It just so happened she was getting on a bus to the subway station and would be happy to help me find my way. Tall, long reddish-brown hair, green eyes. I'm in the country for five minutes and I'm already in love!
It turns out she teaches English. I asked her if she would be willing to work as a tour guide, but I guess she thought I was joking... So, sadly, we parted ways, but it was a pretty good introduction to St Petersburg.
I'm going to face my share of challenges, but to a certain degree it's all downhill from here. Assuming I can get OUT of Russia, of course...
7/10/2008
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