17Oct2006. Vladivostok, Hotel Morlak.
Finally, we get to Vladivostok. I have been wanting to see this place for soooo many years. Actually ever since I heard an add on the Tv about 20 years ago, with a voice over by Terry Wogan. I don't remember the add, but I can hear Terry's dulcet tones right now.
The sun was beating it down when we arrived at 8.30am. Such a major change compared to the rest of our trip over the last 2 weeks. It was quite warm. We got the second hotel we tried. It is ok but it has the tiniest bathroom, I have ever seen in my life. It doenst even have a sink, we have to wash our hands and teeth over the shower. But it's clean.
Vladivostok is a lovely town. It is on a peninsula so has 2 harbour areas. One with little kiosks and a lovely promenade and an aquarium, the other with the Russian Pacific fleet docked and a major port for cruise ships. One cruise ship called the Saphire Princess was docked while we were there. It was absolutely massive. I have never, ever seen such a liner in my life. I think I should go on a cruise sometime. It was beautiful, as cruise ships go.
I went shopping my first day as I needed to get some presents. This was my last chance. I also managed to get a pair of trousers, as 2 pairs just ain't enough... And yea sad cow that I am, I bought some Russian Dolls. It just had to be done. We dined in this Georgian restaurant. We couldn't understand the menu at all. Sometimes the menus are ok but other times they use fancy writing or italics which make the cyrillic characters too difficult to read. So we both ordered from the first page of the menu that we thought might be the specials page. G ended up getting the one non alcholic beer on the menu. I at least got my tea, as I can ask for that now. G got a sort of stuffed base of a pizza and I ended up getting this chunk of very hot bread with a large hollow, with a raw egg broken into the hollow and the crust stuffed with cheese. I'm not a fan of soft eggs at the best of times so this was not quite what I would have liked. But the egg sort of cooked in the hot bread and I left the egg that was still raw. We realised we ordered from the bread section later when we looked up the word for bread. It all made sence. but too late.
19 Oct: We were on our way to view one of the 16 forts in VV. As we walked by the harbour, we saw load of men in wetsuits in this kind of pool in the sea. From what we could ascertain, they were moving some creatures that looked like seacows from this "pool" into tanks on the harbour. The divers were trying to tie a rope around this poor creatures tails, then they opened this underwter gate of the pool and dragged the cow to the edge of the water where they pulled her on to this kind of stretcher and she was then lifted by crane into the tanks parked on the promenade. We must have watched facinated for nearly half an hour. We didn't know if they were being moved for dinner or what. However, whilst watching them, we noticed they were very careful with the creatures and when they finally got the creature into the tank, a lady came along with a huge injection for it. I guess a tranquiliser. Later we found out that they seemed to have been connected to the aquarium and there was a big poster about the sea cows. So I guess that is what we saw.
We finally got to the fort we were searching. It was a really good museum, as well as a fort. It provided an amzing amount of arms, photos etc about the fort and about Vladivostok itself. It was quite a journey through time. Although information from the 1950s-80s was a bit sketchy.
Later that day we went up this little funicular. But when we got to the top, it absolutely pelted down. We quickly got our photos of the view and scarpered.
We also managed to get on to this submarine that is now a museum. G seemed to get more excited about this than anything else we've seen. It again had a lot of photographs and a history of the sub, as well as the russian navy and Vladivostok. It was not a huge sub so it is amazing how the men managed to move around or live on it when submerged.Our last night was spent in this lovely posh restaurant. We had a lovely meal. They had an English menu so we were sorted. I even got to have a glass of wine.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
The final leg and finally some pickled herrings
14th Oct 2006: We got on the Transiberian train for the last time. It was kind of sad. We finally got a train under the 20s. We wanted the no 2 train (supposedly one of the best) but that didn't go the day we wanted but we got the number 8. We ended up sharing with these two Russian gentlemen. Andre (40) and Kirse (19). They were a bit dissapointed when they found out we didn't speak a word of Russian. But our train began it's journey at about 2pm, and the boys were already starting on the vodka. They offered some, a very russian gesture.
These guys epitamised the sterotypical Transiberian train hospitality. They had their lard for snacking inbetween shots. And of course their pickled herrings. They thought the vodka , Graham bought was ok but didnt have much respect for mine (Baikal vodka). They said it gave headaches and hangovers. They wouldn't even sip it. They didn't seem paticulary impressed with any of my food offerings of pringles, pot noodles and cake either.
We had a bit of a laugh with our dictionary and phrasebooks. Andre pretended that kirse was a killer, an assasin but turns out he drives cars from Vladivostok to Ulan Ude. Finally the boys wore themselves out with vodka and went to sleep at about 8pm. The next day they kind of ignored us and found a new Russian drinking partner, probably someone with better vodka. I tried to get some vodka at different train stops but to no avail. I did get a chance to buy some food though, from the various Babuskas selling their homecooked specialities. It was very good.
On the last day, our travelling companions didn't even say good bye, which was a little dissapointing. So I guess we didn't make much of an impression. Oh well at least we had 1 day doing the vodka drinks with real Russians, on the Transib...
These guys epitamised the sterotypical Transiberian train hospitality. They had their lard for snacking inbetween shots. And of course their pickled herrings. They thought the vodka , Graham bought was ok but didnt have much respect for mine (Baikal vodka). They said it gave headaches and hangovers. They wouldn't even sip it. They didn't seem paticulary impressed with any of my food offerings of pringles, pot noodles and cake either.
We had a bit of a laugh with our dictionary and phrasebooks. Andre pretended that kirse was a killer, an assasin but turns out he drives cars from Vladivostok to Ulan Ude. Finally the boys wore themselves out with vodka and went to sleep at about 8pm. The next day they kind of ignored us and found a new Russian drinking partner, probably someone with better vodka. I tried to get some vodka at different train stops but to no avail. I did get a chance to buy some food though, from the various Babuskas selling their homecooked specialities. It was very good.
On the last day, our travelling companions didn't even say good bye, which was a little dissapointing. So I guess we didn't make much of an impression. Oh well at least we had 1 day doing the vodka drinks with real Russians, on the Transib...
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Ulan Ude continued...
11Oct: At the lift, coming down from our room, G was dadling, because of some misguided chivalry. I ushered him in, as the others in the lift were waiting to go. This russian gentleman commented on my ushering, in Russian. He re-iterated in English, realising I had no clue what he said. On the next floor this rather large lady tried to get in, but our Russian pointed out to the lady that the warning light had come on to say we were too heavy and encouraged her to leave. He then turned to me and said “big breakfast”. I had to laugh.
We went in search of the Marshrutky to take us to the Ethnological museum, 6km out of town. It looked overcast but the thermometer said 2C. I had written in Cyrillic, on my trusty post-its, please take us to the museum. It worked quite well, as we got delivered right to the entrance of the museum. In fact a few Buryat people helped us out on the bus as they spoke a little English, including the driver. We had just started going, when the snow just came down, heavily. Within an hour over an inch had fallen. G commented, that it would be today, viewing an outdoor museum that it snows. However, the views from the Marshrutky were all the better, as the suburbs were full of lovely old wooden houses. On arrival at the museum, we realised we were the only tourists and many of the buildings were closed. It was freezing and feeling our fingers and toes proved a task. The museum is made up of sections, each with actual homesteads, houses, outbuildings, etc of various eras and peoples over the last 400 years. Many of the houses have been taken from other areas and rebuilt and furnished with items of their time.
Walking the 3km museum grounds, the snow added a certain authenticity to the place, and showed the collection of reconstructed houses, churches etc. at their best.
Finding a café, we knocked back a couple of teas, pronounced chey here. G said tea never felt so good. I agreed. Fingers now work.
I spent the afternoon walking around Ulan Ude. It really is a lovely town and there are many streets that are dominated by wooden houses or mansions. Many are ramshackle but are beautiful in their shabbiness. The temperature went up so it was such a pleasure to walk around.
Since arriving at Ulan Ude, the population distribution has so changed. Here the population is probably 60/40 in favour of the Buryat. The Buryat people, decendants of Mongolians, migrated here a few centuries ago, but are Russian as such. The Buryat seem more friendly and are more likely to speak English. We have had more interaction with Buryats in the last few days, then for the last few weeks with Russians in general except guides. Today it was obvious on the bus and again when I was in a computer shop, the guy behind the counter spoke excellent English and he and his Buryat colleagues were so helpful and smiling. Very different from other Russian cities. Russians tend not to speak English and a smile is often hard to come by. But saying that I like the Russians. There’s no BSing.
We went in search of the Marshrutky to take us to the Ethnological museum, 6km out of town. It looked overcast but the thermometer said 2C. I had written in Cyrillic, on my trusty post-its, please take us to the museum. It worked quite well, as we got delivered right to the entrance of the museum. In fact a few Buryat people helped us out on the bus as they spoke a little English, including the driver. We had just started going, when the snow just came down, heavily. Within an hour over an inch had fallen. G commented, that it would be today, viewing an outdoor museum that it snows. However, the views from the Marshrutky were all the better, as the suburbs were full of lovely old wooden houses. On arrival at the museum, we realised we were the only tourists and many of the buildings were closed. It was freezing and feeling our fingers and toes proved a task. The museum is made up of sections, each with actual homesteads, houses, outbuildings, etc of various eras and peoples over the last 400 years. Many of the houses have been taken from other areas and rebuilt and furnished with items of their time.
Walking the 3km museum grounds, the snow added a certain authenticity to the place, and showed the collection of reconstructed houses, churches etc. at their best.
Finding a café, we knocked back a couple of teas, pronounced chey here. G said tea never felt so good. I agreed. Fingers now work.
I spent the afternoon walking around Ulan Ude. It really is a lovely town and there are many streets that are dominated by wooden houses or mansions. Many are ramshackle but are beautiful in their shabbiness. The temperature went up so it was such a pleasure to walk around.
Since arriving at Ulan Ude, the population distribution has so changed. Here the population is probably 60/40 in favour of the Buryat. The Buryat people, decendants of Mongolians, migrated here a few centuries ago, but are Russian as such. The Buryat seem more friendly and are more likely to speak English. We have had more interaction with Buryats in the last few days, then for the last few weeks with Russians in general except guides. Today it was obvious on the bus and again when I was in a computer shop, the guy behind the counter spoke excellent English and he and his Buryat colleagues were so helpful and smiling. Very different from other Russian cities. Russians tend not to speak English and a smile is often hard to come by. But saying that I like the Russians. There’s no BSing.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Ulan Ude, The Penultimate Russian Stop
09Oct: Arrived at the hostel about 4. Ah the luxury of a porceline toilet and a sweet scented one at that. My cup runneth over. We again tested our train ticket buying skills at Irkutsk Train station. This time I was so bold, as to request a seat range, although I struggled to find the russian spelling of the seat class (Platskart) so winged it. Of course later I found the spelling, at the back of one of the old train tickets. Typical. We got the exact train requested, albeit our first time the whole trip, and even the seat range. This is too easy. We got to come a cropper sometime. Back at the hostel, I washed a few days of grime and sweat off. I missed the banya but it was good to have a powerful shower and a good scrub, in private. Dinner was at the Lancelot, a russian attempt at an English Medieval Banqueting hall. It was nicely done though and the food was delicious. Although the drinks menu was mostly in Russian and while G thought he was ordering from the beer selection, it turned out he had chosen from the mineral waters. It made me laugh. I just asked for red wine in English and lo and behold it arrived with some nice granny tea I had ordered. 10Oct: After another bad nights sleep, we made the 08.33 (03.33 Moscow time). The Platscart carriage was better than I had hoped and we had a section to ourselves, that would normally hold 6- 8 people. We were able to bob between windows to get the best view from either side of the train. However, after all our good luck with the train, our luck with the weather failed. The cloud and fog didn't show Lake Baikal in it's saphire glory, but displayed it in a dull washed out grey. After 7 hours arrived in Ulan Ude, to lay our heads down in the Hotel Buryatiya. Lonely Planet legend warns of the cleaners trick of "tidying away" items of luggage in the back corners of wardrobes and drawers. O padlocked my bag. Decided that tonight is going to be spent updating my blog and resting and tomorrow SHOPPING... Hang the tourism bit for a few hours.
From Irkutsk to part of the real Siberia
05Oct: Outside yet another train station, this time Irkutsk, we got the tram, 3 stops later we were on yet another ul Lenina and a few metres from our hostel. Russian street names are a trifle predictable. The Baikaler Hostel, owned by Jack Sheremetoff is very modern and we are immediately comfortable. Although the list of house rules is a little off putting and when we try to do our laundry, we find it is another 150rubles. But the clothes benefit from a wash and while those are drying, we head off. G and I have a little difference assessing directions, so I head off by myself to find an elusive agency (Green Express) that proves too elusive so I ring them… from my mobile. This is after attempting to buy a Russian sim card from a non English speaking shop. Apparently you can’t buy one, if you are a tourist and I couldn’t be bothered trying to figure out how to buy a phone card, so my ever trusty mobile proved yet again, how indispensable it is.
The Green Express prove even more disappointing, as they only run the Olkhon Island tours in the summer. I had so wanted to stay in a yurt or go horseriding.
I spend the rest of the day strolling around Irutsk. Admiring the amazing, sometimes crumbling wooden houses and mansions of one of the oldest towns of Siberia formerly known as the "Paris of Siberia". Some streets are entirely made up of these old monuments to the old way of living. Some even have the flicker of a light bulb which proves their remaining usefulness.
I meet G in Kafe 16 for dinner and we decide to take Jack up on his tour offer.
06Oct: At 9am, Jack drives his motley crew of 4 to the bus station. G & I introduce ourselves to our fellow travellers. Marlen and Anniken from Norway, are studying for a masters in Russian and are here for a few months to further their research. Jack delivers us to our mini bus (Marshrutky) and we take the back seat. We sit back and enjoy the entertainment. As Russian Babuskas and locals take the best seats and Jack rescues 2 German and 2 Dutch travelers, from missing the service, although they don’t show as much gratitude as they should, as they become distracted by the fact that the Marshrutky has 14 seats and 17 people to fill them. The 2 Dutch understandably upset, being 6ft 4” and built like brick shithouses.
Jack smiles and says Russia is getting more like South East Asia every day. I had to laugh.
Jack explains that we have to re-distribute the seating arrangements, once we are past the police checkpoint. This pacifies the 4 new arrivals. Redistribution involves one of the girls in the back i.e. me, moving up front with the driver, on a little seat between him and the other front seat passenger. But at least I have a good view. 7 hours and a lunch of pozis in a road side café later, we arrive at the ferry port just a few minutes after the ferry left. The delay, due to slowing down for ice and snow on the road. We wait 2hrs for the next one. As my leg is going dead, I get out and wait in the ferry shelter… a roof and 2 walls. A bit chilly. The Dutch and I end up chatting the time away. And don’t even realize how long we are there. A very kind Russian gentleman, waiting in his lada, offers me hot tea. He has obviously done this before. All I have to offer in return are some Pringles, which he declines. The tea is fab. The ferry arrives and the race to board is on. The locals are dropped off at their homes with their newly purchased flat screen tvs and baggage. The Dutch and Germans get dropped at the bus station. We thankfully are dropped off at the home of Olya and Kolya, our homestay for the next few nights. Our hosts speak no English but Marlen and Annikan prove to be fab translaters. The little house we stay in has been vacated by Olya's neighbour. It has 2 rooms with a connecting portion containing the sink, cooker and fire. The fire keeps the house remarkably cosy, considering it is only dying embers when we arrive. Dinner is cooked by Olya and throughout our stay we are amazed at her cooking skills and variety of dishes for our daily 3 meals. A lot of her dishes include fish but delicious and that is from a mainly non fish eater. We took turns to visit the outdoor toilet. This consisted of a little shed with a wooden floor, with a hole in it where you can squat n you haunches and drop the contents of your intestines and bladder into the pit below. It smelt fine.
07Oct: For breakfast we had semolina. I was maybe 9 the last time I ate it, but ate it, I did. Dad would laugh as he often struggled t make me eat it as a youngster. It was not as bad as I remember but I still won't be adding it to my list of favourite dishes.
G& I explore the town of 1200 inhabitants. We even go to the shore of the lake. It's cold, damn cold. So after a couple of hours we go back to the homestay. The girls have returned and within a few minutes we're all under our respective duvets trying to warm ourselves up. It took me an hour.
Rejuvenated after a fine lunch, we venture out again. Fidya, an amazingly friendly, bouncy dog leads the way and shows his selection of tourists to the local moggies. The musuem's legend informs us that it is open everyday except saturday. Today is Saturday so there goes that. We end up in Nikita's, the main hostel and information mecca on the island and run into the Dutch guys. They invite us back in the evening for drinks as they had been up til 1.30am drinking there. We go off in search of worthy beverages and then return for our Banya ala hotel Olya. We strip to our underwear and go into the Banya. It is based on the finnish steam rooms. So we steam the aches and pains away then pour dishes of hot and cold water over our heads and bodies to cleanse the sweat and dirt from our bodies. Refreshed we snooze for a while then dine. After a few moments diliberation, we unanamously dicide against going out in the cold, so stay in chew the fat and drink some of the vodka, I've been dragging around with me for the past few weeks. Finally someone to share it, albeit not Russian and not on the train.
08Oct. Today we had rice pudding for breakfast. And again not something I have eaten since being a pre-pubesant. We are given some homemade blackcurrent jam with some pancakes so I use the jam, as mother and dad used do to enhance the rice. It definitly makes the rice more palatable. Our lovable russian speaking driver, Andre collects us at 11am. Thank god the girls spoke Russian. Annikan sat in front and did a marvellous job of translating, providing us with a lot of information on the island. Andre took us to the most photogenic and interesting spots and regaled us with stories about bears and wolves and driving across the ice to the mainland in winter, with wolves nipping at his heals. Or feeding 3 bears including a cub, that became trapped on the island because the ice melted and they coudn't get back to the mainland except by swimming (too much and to cold). Eventually they were returned by the authorities to their own habitat.
The island is truly beautiful. It is like stepping back in time. Except for the tvs and mobile fone and the odd fancy car, the island could be in the 1950s or even the early 1900's. For 15 years after Perestroika, due to lack of funds, they had no electricity but this was re-connected of late. Most houses do not have running water but have flat screen tvs. The incongruity of it all is baffling but I loved it there and would love to return. We pass an abandoned derelict fish factory and it's associated accomadation (tiny huts) that was used in the Stalin era to house the Gulag prisoners who worked the factory. The Lake washed this lucrative endeavour away.
Andre takes us to a leafy glad where most of the leaves are fallen pine needles but many of the trees maintain their magnificent yellow and orange colouring even though it is the start of winter. Andre makes a fire and boils some water for tea and serves us the lunch that Olya has prepared. A small whole fish sliced down the side and stuffed with cheese and sandwiches. It is still warm from it's time in the oven. Fkursna!! I think that is Russian for Delicious.
Back at the homestay we indulge in another Banya dine, and while away the evening. It is then time to visit the toilet before bed. The smell has progressively deteriorated. Once I bend down I start to gag. This is severe hampering my attempts at adding to the sweet smell of manure. I zip up my collar ver my mouth and nose. that helps a little. Over the past 2 or so years I have found that I am becomng more sensitive to toilet smells. I think it is from haing out with Shak. This is from someone who has held back the hair of my friends while they pray to the porceline god. I have cleaned up after many a friend after they deposited the contents of their stomach in my bathroom. I have even held my friend KH's hand still covered with his stomach contents, albeit with my marigolds on. I have sent Cian running green to the loo after one of my stories. But toilets are getting the better of me.
09Oct: Andre collects us and we join the locals for our 7hr Marshrutky and ferry journey minus the Dutch who travel on another Marshrutky with a girl who has found a rather long icicle and is carrying it with her.
The Green Express prove even more disappointing, as they only run the Olkhon Island tours in the summer. I had so wanted to stay in a yurt or go horseriding.
I spend the rest of the day strolling around Irutsk. Admiring the amazing, sometimes crumbling wooden houses and mansions of one of the oldest towns of Siberia formerly known as the "Paris of Siberia". Some streets are entirely made up of these old monuments to the old way of living. Some even have the flicker of a light bulb which proves their remaining usefulness.
I meet G in Kafe 16 for dinner and we decide to take Jack up on his tour offer.
06Oct: At 9am, Jack drives his motley crew of 4 to the bus station. G & I introduce ourselves to our fellow travellers. Marlen and Anniken from Norway, are studying for a masters in Russian and are here for a few months to further their research. Jack delivers us to our mini bus (Marshrutky) and we take the back seat. We sit back and enjoy the entertainment. As Russian Babuskas and locals take the best seats and Jack rescues 2 German and 2 Dutch travelers, from missing the service, although they don’t show as much gratitude as they should, as they become distracted by the fact that the Marshrutky has 14 seats and 17 people to fill them. The 2 Dutch understandably upset, being 6ft 4” and built like brick shithouses.
Jack smiles and says Russia is getting more like South East Asia every day. I had to laugh.
Jack explains that we have to re-distribute the seating arrangements, once we are past the police checkpoint. This pacifies the 4 new arrivals. Redistribution involves one of the girls in the back i.e. me, moving up front with the driver, on a little seat between him and the other front seat passenger. But at least I have a good view. 7 hours and a lunch of pozis in a road side café later, we arrive at the ferry port just a few minutes after the ferry left. The delay, due to slowing down for ice and snow on the road. We wait 2hrs for the next one. As my leg is going dead, I get out and wait in the ferry shelter… a roof and 2 walls. A bit chilly. The Dutch and I end up chatting the time away. And don’t even realize how long we are there. A very kind Russian gentleman, waiting in his lada, offers me hot tea. He has obviously done this before. All I have to offer in return are some Pringles, which he declines. The tea is fab. The ferry arrives and the race to board is on. The locals are dropped off at their homes with their newly purchased flat screen tvs and baggage. The Dutch and Germans get dropped at the bus station. We thankfully are dropped off at the home of Olya and Kolya, our homestay for the next few nights. Our hosts speak no English but Marlen and Annikan prove to be fab translaters. The little house we stay in has been vacated by Olya's neighbour. It has 2 rooms with a connecting portion containing the sink, cooker and fire. The fire keeps the house remarkably cosy, considering it is only dying embers when we arrive. Dinner is cooked by Olya and throughout our stay we are amazed at her cooking skills and variety of dishes for our daily 3 meals. A lot of her dishes include fish but delicious and that is from a mainly non fish eater. We took turns to visit the outdoor toilet. This consisted of a little shed with a wooden floor, with a hole in it where you can squat n you haunches and drop the contents of your intestines and bladder into the pit below. It smelt fine.
07Oct: For breakfast we had semolina. I was maybe 9 the last time I ate it, but ate it, I did. Dad would laugh as he often struggled t make me eat it as a youngster. It was not as bad as I remember but I still won't be adding it to my list of favourite dishes.
G& I explore the town of 1200 inhabitants. We even go to the shore of the lake. It's cold, damn cold. So after a couple of hours we go back to the homestay. The girls have returned and within a few minutes we're all under our respective duvets trying to warm ourselves up. It took me an hour.
Rejuvenated after a fine lunch, we venture out again. Fidya, an amazingly friendly, bouncy dog leads the way and shows his selection of tourists to the local moggies. The musuem's legend informs us that it is open everyday except saturday. Today is Saturday so there goes that. We end up in Nikita's, the main hostel and information mecca on the island and run into the Dutch guys. They invite us back in the evening for drinks as they had been up til 1.30am drinking there. We go off in search of worthy beverages and then return for our Banya ala hotel Olya. We strip to our underwear and go into the Banya. It is based on the finnish steam rooms. So we steam the aches and pains away then pour dishes of hot and cold water over our heads and bodies to cleanse the sweat and dirt from our bodies. Refreshed we snooze for a while then dine. After a few moments diliberation, we unanamously dicide against going out in the cold, so stay in chew the fat and drink some of the vodka, I've been dragging around with me for the past few weeks. Finally someone to share it, albeit not Russian and not on the train.
08Oct. Today we had rice pudding for breakfast. And again not something I have eaten since being a pre-pubesant. We are given some homemade blackcurrent jam with some pancakes so I use the jam, as mother and dad used do to enhance the rice. It definitly makes the rice more palatable. Our lovable russian speaking driver, Andre collects us at 11am. Thank god the girls spoke Russian. Annikan sat in front and did a marvellous job of translating, providing us with a lot of information on the island. Andre took us to the most photogenic and interesting spots and regaled us with stories about bears and wolves and driving across the ice to the mainland in winter, with wolves nipping at his heals. Or feeding 3 bears including a cub, that became trapped on the island because the ice melted and they coudn't get back to the mainland except by swimming (too much and to cold). Eventually they were returned by the authorities to their own habitat.
The island is truly beautiful. It is like stepping back in time. Except for the tvs and mobile fone and the odd fancy car, the island could be in the 1950s or even the early 1900's. For 15 years after Perestroika, due to lack of funds, they had no electricity but this was re-connected of late. Most houses do not have running water but have flat screen tvs. The incongruity of it all is baffling but I loved it there and would love to return. We pass an abandoned derelict fish factory and it's associated accomadation (tiny huts) that was used in the Stalin era to house the Gulag prisoners who worked the factory. The Lake washed this lucrative endeavour away.
Andre takes us to a leafy glad where most of the leaves are fallen pine needles but many of the trees maintain their magnificent yellow and orange colouring even though it is the start of winter. Andre makes a fire and boils some water for tea and serves us the lunch that Olya has prepared. A small whole fish sliced down the side and stuffed with cheese and sandwiches. It is still warm from it's time in the oven. Fkursna!! I think that is Russian for Delicious.
Back at the homestay we indulge in another Banya dine, and while away the evening. It is then time to visit the toilet before bed. The smell has progressively deteriorated. Once I bend down I start to gag. This is severe hampering my attempts at adding to the sweet smell of manure. I zip up my collar ver my mouth and nose. that helps a little. Over the past 2 or so years I have found that I am becomng more sensitive to toilet smells. I think it is from haing out with Shak. This is from someone who has held back the hair of my friends while they pray to the porceline god. I have cleaned up after many a friend after they deposited the contents of their stomach in my bathroom. I have even held my friend KH's hand still covered with his stomach contents, albeit with my marigolds on. I have sent Cian running green to the loo after one of my stories. But toilets are getting the better of me.
09Oct: Andre collects us and we join the locals for our 7hr Marshrutky and ferry journey minus the Dutch who travel on another Marshrutky with a girl who has found a rather long icicle and is carrying it with her.
Krasnoyarsk and the Stolbys
In Krasnoyarsk, we stayed at the Gustiny Dvor. We thought a buffet restaurant in the LP would be a good dinner venue. But when we got there, the buffet was closed. Even though we tried to get our waitress to leave us for 5 minutes to use our dictionaries, phrase books etc to decipher the menu, she didn’t understand. So having recognised the word salad in Cyrillic, I pointed at an option and the same in the main course section. G did the same. Our salads arrived, but mine had prawns. I hate prawns. So G kindly took the prawn salad and I took his selection. Our main courses were incredibly satisfactory and so all in all a meal well selected even if blindly so.
We rang Anatoliy Brewhanov, the director of SibTourGuides. He collected us next day at 10am and for the first time we were driven in a Lada. It was a bitterly cold day but we soon warmed up with the cracking pace of our guide. He showed us the various Stolby, rocks formed by lava cooling rather quickly. Most of the main rocks had been named. Names were as original as, 1st rock, 2nd rock Grandfather, grandson, the 3 brothers etc. One was named feathers alright for obvious reasons.
It was great to have a proper conversation with a Russian, being with a guide is often our only opportunity. I had so many questions. Sometimes I know I as too many but my curiosity is never ending. Anatoliy is a Political science lecturer and a very ardent protector of the environment. He not only comes up here to give tours but often just comes up with his wife and son. He had to hunt some kids away the other day as he caught them spraying grafitti on some of the stolby. His main regret being too late, to prevent 2 rocks being defaced.
After a few hours hiking and climbing, we lunched on the 4th rock. We had a lovely picnic of sandwiches and hot tea. We set off again and had some great photo opportunities. The Stolby and the surrounding nature reserve was spectacular, made even more beautiful by a fresh layer of snow, from the previous night.
Anatoliy told us about the time the x-files came to film in Krasnoyarsk. He said the locals were a bit miffed, because they used Mercedes cars with Moscow number plates all very in Krasnoyarsk. A Lada would have been far more appropriate and of course with the right number plates. As we were on the subject he told us about Russians own real x-file. Back in the 1950’s 12 experienced skiers went into Siberia proper. After a few days, when they didn’t show up a rescue team were sent in. They found 12 dead tourists, with a variety of cold related causes of death.
It appeared that each had run in different directions from their tents, leaving everything behind, including the appropriate outdoor clothing. One guy was found near a tree which he had tried to climb to get away from what ever it was. Some of the skin from his hands, where he had tried to climb but failed, was still on the tree. No-one had been eaten or attacked, which ruled out an animal attack. A whole taskforce was sent to investigate, including the KGB, as the Soviet authorities were very concerned but to no avail. To this day, no one really knows what happened.
We rang Anatoliy Brewhanov, the director of SibTourGuides. He collected us next day at 10am and for the first time we were driven in a Lada. It was a bitterly cold day but we soon warmed up with the cracking pace of our guide. He showed us the various Stolby, rocks formed by lava cooling rather quickly. Most of the main rocks had been named. Names were as original as, 1st rock, 2nd rock Grandfather, grandson, the 3 brothers etc. One was named feathers alright for obvious reasons.
It was great to have a proper conversation with a Russian, being with a guide is often our only opportunity. I had so many questions. Sometimes I know I as too many but my curiosity is never ending. Anatoliy is a Political science lecturer and a very ardent protector of the environment. He not only comes up here to give tours but often just comes up with his wife and son. He had to hunt some kids away the other day as he caught them spraying grafitti on some of the stolby. His main regret being too late, to prevent 2 rocks being defaced.
After a few hours hiking and climbing, we lunched on the 4th rock. We had a lovely picnic of sandwiches and hot tea. We set off again and had some great photo opportunities. The Stolby and the surrounding nature reserve was spectacular, made even more beautiful by a fresh layer of snow, from the previous night.
Anatoliy told us about the time the x-files came to film in Krasnoyarsk. He said the locals were a bit miffed, because they used Mercedes cars with Moscow number plates all very in Krasnoyarsk. A Lada would have been far more appropriate and of course with the right number plates. As we were on the subject he told us about Russians own real x-file. Back in the 1950’s 12 experienced skiers went into Siberia proper. After a few days, when they didn’t show up a rescue team were sent in. They found 12 dead tourists, with a variety of cold related causes of death.
It appeared that each had run in different directions from their tents, leaving everything behind, including the appropriate outdoor clothing. One guy was found near a tree which he had tried to climb to get away from what ever it was. Some of the skin from his hands, where he had tried to climb but failed, was still on the tree. No-one had been eaten or attacked, which ruled out an animal attack. A whole taskforce was sent to investigate, including the KGB, as the Soviet authorities were very concerned but to no avail. To this day, no one really knows what happened.
Yekaterinburg
Yekaterinburg, Hotel Sverdlovsk.
We nearly missed the train. The station board with the trains and platforms didn’t show our train, even though it showed others later than ours. As time was running out, I ran up to an assistant
and showed my ticket and shouted platforma. It had the desired effect and we found our train in the nick of time. This time we had a a lady who was sitting with what appeared to be her sister and they were saying rather fond farewells. We also had a young man who spoke English and helped us a little. He then left after a few hours and we got another gentleman who didn't really communicate with us.
As we were leaving the station, I saw a tear run down the ladies face. I think she was dissapointed with her berth companions, as she needed cheering up haveing left her friend or relative and we had not thing to offer. I offered her a sweet and a smile, it was the only thing I could do.
We arrived late in the evening in Yekaterinburg, and took the hotel across the road from the station. I won't say Yekaterinburg struck me as cheery. It was raining and dull and a bit cold. We walked around and took in some of the sites on our way to the Ekaterinburg guide offices. However, when we got there they were closed, although there was a number for tourgroups. I guess summer times are over. We had sent them an email on accomadation but had no reply by the time we left Moscow.
I had really wanted to see Yekaterinburg because this was where the Romanovs had been assasinated. The Romanovs being the last tsar and his family. I have been following stories on them for some time and especially on the mysterious Anastascia.
I had intended to take a tour to the following sites with the guide centre. The site where the Romanovs were previously buried and a site about 40km out of town that is the Europe-Asia border. This has been scientifically proven by the way.
However, it appeared that this was not going to be easy to do. Graham didn't appear to have much interest in anything in Yekateringburg. I guess the Romanovs are not everyone''s cup of tea and it was going to take enthuasism to go to these sites as it would involve some effort using the local public transport etc.
At that moment, I didn't have the energy or motivation to gee up enough enthuasism for 2.
I was gutted. This was one of the main places I had wanted to go.
So we ended up booking a train for that night and rushing the few sites we had missed.
We went to the internet cafe later and found an email from the center about the accommadation. So we probably could have got a tour or at least if I had not been in such a bad mood because of the days events, I could have gone to the sites I wanted.
I had got myself out of the dissapointment of missing things but I was rather dissapointed
that I had allowed the situation and lack of enthuasism to stop me doing the things I really wanted and vowed not to do it again.
We nearly missed the train. The station board with the trains and platforms didn’t show our train, even though it showed others later than ours. As time was running out, I ran up to an assistant
and showed my ticket and shouted platforma. It had the desired effect and we found our train in the nick of time. This time we had a a lady who was sitting with what appeared to be her sister and they were saying rather fond farewells. We also had a young man who spoke English and helped us a little. He then left after a few hours and we got another gentleman who didn't really communicate with us.
As we were leaving the station, I saw a tear run down the ladies face. I think she was dissapointed with her berth companions, as she needed cheering up haveing left her friend or relative and we had not thing to offer. I offered her a sweet and a smile, it was the only thing I could do.
We arrived late in the evening in Yekaterinburg, and took the hotel across the road from the station. I won't say Yekaterinburg struck me as cheery. It was raining and dull and a bit cold. We walked around and took in some of the sites on our way to the Ekaterinburg guide offices. However, when we got there they were closed, although there was a number for tourgroups. I guess summer times are over. We had sent them an email on accomadation but had no reply by the time we left Moscow.
I had really wanted to see Yekaterinburg because this was where the Romanovs had been assasinated. The Romanovs being the last tsar and his family. I have been following stories on them for some time and especially on the mysterious Anastascia.
I had intended to take a tour to the following sites with the guide centre. The site where the Romanovs were previously buried and a site about 40km out of town that is the Europe-Asia border. This has been scientifically proven by the way.
However, it appeared that this was not going to be easy to do. Graham didn't appear to have much interest in anything in Yekateringburg. I guess the Romanovs are not everyone''s cup of tea and it was going to take enthuasism to go to these sites as it would involve some effort using the local public transport etc.
At that moment, I didn't have the energy or motivation to gee up enough enthuasism for 2.
I was gutted. This was one of the main places I had wanted to go.
So we ended up booking a train for that night and rushing the few sites we had missed.
We went to the internet cafe later and found an email from the center about the accommadation. So we probably could have got a tour or at least if I had not been in such a bad mood because of the days events, I could have gone to the sites I wanted.
I had got myself out of the dissapointment of missing things but I was rather dissapointed
that I had allowed the situation and lack of enthuasism to stop me doing the things I really wanted and vowed not to do it again.
Moscow, the Kremlin & cemeteries
We arrived at the hostel to collect our bags and ran into a Martin from NZ and shared a taxi to the station. At the station we came face to face with the timetable. We had a problem. There was no column for platform. Eek. We searched our LP and wracked our brains and extremely limited language skills and phrase books but to no avail. Eventually, I headed off in a different direction than G or M had taken and found the correct board, platform included, so we stood around that, until it was time to board.
We got on the train for Moscow to St Petersburg. Our first train was ok. Nothing special. We shared with 2 Russian gentlemen, who promptly fell asleep and kept us entertained with a selection of snoring symphonies. After our 12 hour trip we arrived in Moscow. Our attempts in getting a taxi resulted in us realising how the taxi market forces work in Russia. Foreigners pay 10 times the local rate. We got the Metro. All quite civilized.
Well Moscow, is quite different from St Petersburg. Whereas St Petersburg has the old town with a very discernible heart, Moscow doesn’t. Although it does have it’s fair share of beautiful buildings, they are often interspersed with modern blocks. Our hostel is great though. It has a warm welcoming atmosphere and several guests were sharing the vodka in the kitchen. We were invited to join on our second night and got introduced to Ben and Stuart. Two English chaps. The next night we were joined by 2 Canadians and a Scot named Hamish no less. Conversation was diverse. But I learned where in the world the hotties or hot babes depending on your terms of reference, resided. Russia was in the top 4 but apparently Minsk was top, if you are to believe Hamish. The boys seemed quite taken with the fact that beautiful Russian women checked them out and even spoke to them. Russian women don’t seem to be backward in coming forward so to speak.
Well G and I came out of our hostel our first day we didn’t quite know which street to take. This eventually led to a difference of opinion which showed up some issues we are having. But at least some of it out of the system.
We did all the tourist things you do in Moscow. We went to the Kremlin. I guess it wasn’t what we both expected. We didn’t realize it was a very religious area with numerous churches. We had so often heard the Kremlin mentioned on tv and it always seemed to be associated with some political goings on.
Basically, the Kremlin is a fortfied stronghold. Many towns in Russia have these. Inside, the churches have amazing frescoes/murals and are incredibly colourful. We walked around the red square outside of the Kremlin. This was quite impressive. We duly stood in line to view the embalmed body of Lenin. I still think of Alex’s comment when we saw Ho Chi Minh in Vietnam. He was convinced it was a hologram. Not too sure this isn’t either. God knows… We ended up walking around the Lenin mausoleum and wandered into the path of the Soviet heads of state er em literally. This is where all the heads of state have been buried, the most notable with a bust to denote their last resting place.
One thing I have realised is that the Russians no matter whether they were soviets or monarchists; they all loved building fountains and monuments, as testament to their power & splendour.
In the Kremlin, we went to the Armory. This has an amazing collection mostly various presents given by ambassadors to the monarchy etc. along with jewels and icons from days gone by. There was even a selection of carriages and sledges belonging to long dead tsars and tsarinas. They were incredible. Like something out of a fairytale. I was duly impressed.
Outside of the Kremlin is St Basils Cathedral or Pokrovsky Cathedral if you are to use the correct name. Oh my god I have never seen such a beautiful cathedral in my life. It is a rainbow of colours but it all works wonderfully.
The next day we went to the magnificent Novodevichy convent. It is a bit out side Moscow but worth the visit.
I know it sounds morbid, but we also went to the cemetery behind the convent at my bequest. This was unreal. It is absolutely the most beautiful cemetery, I have seen. Although I have yet to see it’s Parisian equivalent. Many famous corpses reside here. Chekhov being one of the most notable for us non Ruskies. Could I find his grave, could I heck. But we located Raisa Gorbachov’s and a few others.
We found one head of state who was a naughty boy, so it was not deemed appropriate to bury him where most of his predessors and successors are buried near the Kremlin.
It was a rare grave that had just a normal headstone. Most graves were embellished with sculptures that were either busts of the deceased or an emblem of their role in life. E.g. planes for famous pilots etc. Each a work of art in itself.
2 or 3 graves were multiple graves where the names of the passengers that had perished as a result of a plane crash were remembered. It was a very serene place and if I ever go back to Moscow, I would definitely revisit.
We also ventured to another one of my favourite places, the sculpture park. When the soviets fell from power, the locals decided they had enough of Stalin and Lenin statues. This resulted in many being ostracized to a little park near Gorky park. Since then, this park has taken on a life of it’s own and is now home to an ever burgeoning collection of various contemporary sculptures. One of the most striking sculptures is a large statue of Stalin. Behind and to the side of which, is a wall with various heads held in mesh. A reminder of the lives destroyed by this evil man.
Gorky park, just across the road showed of it’s wares of roller coasters etc. We didn’t go in but the bear had his photo taken there. I just had to see Gorky park. It has been the scene for many a spy caper.
We went to buy our train ticket. Again we got our ticket not exactly what we wanted but close enough. Wey hey.
We got on the train for Moscow to St Petersburg. Our first train was ok. Nothing special. We shared with 2 Russian gentlemen, who promptly fell asleep and kept us entertained with a selection of snoring symphonies. After our 12 hour trip we arrived in Moscow. Our attempts in getting a taxi resulted in us realising how the taxi market forces work in Russia. Foreigners pay 10 times the local rate. We got the Metro. All quite civilized.
Well Moscow, is quite different from St Petersburg. Whereas St Petersburg has the old town with a very discernible heart, Moscow doesn’t. Although it does have it’s fair share of beautiful buildings, they are often interspersed with modern blocks. Our hostel is great though. It has a warm welcoming atmosphere and several guests were sharing the vodka in the kitchen. We were invited to join on our second night and got introduced to Ben and Stuart. Two English chaps. The next night we were joined by 2 Canadians and a Scot named Hamish no less. Conversation was diverse. But I learned where in the world the hotties or hot babes depending on your terms of reference, resided. Russia was in the top 4 but apparently Minsk was top, if you are to believe Hamish. The boys seemed quite taken with the fact that beautiful Russian women checked them out and even spoke to them. Russian women don’t seem to be backward in coming forward so to speak.
Well G and I came out of our hostel our first day we didn’t quite know which street to take. This eventually led to a difference of opinion which showed up some issues we are having. But at least some of it out of the system.
We did all the tourist things you do in Moscow. We went to the Kremlin. I guess it wasn’t what we both expected. We didn’t realize it was a very religious area with numerous churches. We had so often heard the Kremlin mentioned on tv and it always seemed to be associated with some political goings on.
Basically, the Kremlin is a fortfied stronghold. Many towns in Russia have these. Inside, the churches have amazing frescoes/murals and are incredibly colourful. We walked around the red square outside of the Kremlin. This was quite impressive. We duly stood in line to view the embalmed body of Lenin. I still think of Alex’s comment when we saw Ho Chi Minh in Vietnam. He was convinced it was a hologram. Not too sure this isn’t either. God knows… We ended up walking around the Lenin mausoleum and wandered into the path of the Soviet heads of state er em literally. This is where all the heads of state have been buried, the most notable with a bust to denote their last resting place.
One thing I have realised is that the Russians no matter whether they were soviets or monarchists; they all loved building fountains and monuments, as testament to their power & splendour.
In the Kremlin, we went to the Armory. This has an amazing collection mostly various presents given by ambassadors to the monarchy etc. along with jewels and icons from days gone by. There was even a selection of carriages and sledges belonging to long dead tsars and tsarinas. They were incredible. Like something out of a fairytale. I was duly impressed.
Outside of the Kremlin is St Basils Cathedral or Pokrovsky Cathedral if you are to use the correct name. Oh my god I have never seen such a beautiful cathedral in my life. It is a rainbow of colours but it all works wonderfully.
The next day we went to the magnificent Novodevichy convent. It is a bit out side Moscow but worth the visit.
I know it sounds morbid, but we also went to the cemetery behind the convent at my bequest. This was unreal. It is absolutely the most beautiful cemetery, I have seen. Although I have yet to see it’s Parisian equivalent. Many famous corpses reside here. Chekhov being one of the most notable for us non Ruskies. Could I find his grave, could I heck. But we located Raisa Gorbachov’s and a few others.
We found one head of state who was a naughty boy, so it was not deemed appropriate to bury him where most of his predessors and successors are buried near the Kremlin.
It was a rare grave that had just a normal headstone. Most graves were embellished with sculptures that were either busts of the deceased or an emblem of their role in life. E.g. planes for famous pilots etc. Each a work of art in itself.
2 or 3 graves were multiple graves where the names of the passengers that had perished as a result of a plane crash were remembered. It was a very serene place and if I ever go back to Moscow, I would definitely revisit.
We also ventured to another one of my favourite places, the sculpture park. When the soviets fell from power, the locals decided they had enough of Stalin and Lenin statues. This resulted in many being ostracized to a little park near Gorky park. Since then, this park has taken on a life of it’s own and is now home to an ever burgeoning collection of various contemporary sculptures. One of the most striking sculptures is a large statue of Stalin. Behind and to the side of which, is a wall with various heads held in mesh. A reminder of the lives destroyed by this evil man.
Gorky park, just across the road showed of it’s wares of roller coasters etc. We didn’t go in but the bear had his photo taken there. I just had to see Gorky park. It has been the scene for many a spy caper.
We went to buy our train ticket. Again we got our ticket not exactly what we wanted but close enough. Wey hey.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Off on the path to Siberia
Well after a night of no sleep, I left Berrymede, for the last time living there. I said goodbye to my room and the house with some sadness. The taxi arrived at 4.40am, and Graham and I took our 7am flight to Sweden then Sweden to St Petersburg, our first stop.
On the plane we met a Canadian called Martha. She ended up joining us for a few days and shared a room with us. On arrival in St Petersburg, as we queued. I stupidly mentioned about my bag being lost in Isreal. Well Martha and Graham picked up their bags but mine was nowhere to be found. what a surprise. It is scary how sometimes I say things and either I pre-empt them or I'm cursed.
After going back and forth filling out customs forms in duplicate, and completing the forms 3 times, as they didn't tell me how to fill it in, only the third person was nice enough to do that, I was finally able to go to the lost luggage office, where they had already located my bag and were arranging for it's delivery. Thank god we had booked a hostel.
We finally made it to the hostel. This was after being guided to get off at the completely wrong bus stop and aas a result to now having to negotiate the metro. The very kindly hostel owner brought us to another hostel as we were now 3. He gave us a mini tour of St Petersburg. He pointed out the smallest statue, as per the guinness book of records. This is a little bird about 7 or 8 inches in height positioned down a wall on the river side, 3 feet down from the top of the wall and about 2 feet above the water. This little bird is on a plinth and the idea is to throw coins. Should you be so lucky to have your coin hit the bird and stay on the plinth then you will return to St Petersburg. My coins didnt oblige. But there was always a queue, and some people succeeded.
21-22Sep. We were about an hours walk from the centre of the old town. So we did a lot of walking. The LP recommends a walk indicating sights to be seen along various streets. Each building was another revelation of what the city had to offer. The weather was very obliging and the sun and temperature were just perfect. Even got sunburnt.
St Petersburg is beautiful, well at least the old town. There are some magnificent buildings. Peter the great, his successors or indeed the weathly in general and even the Soviets, were not shy in showing their wealth and privilege. Martha left us to go in search of her tickets to Moscow at the Real Russia's partner's St Petersburg office. She didnt find it despite the help of an English speaking local.
23Sep: We spent a day in the Hermitage, formerly the Winter Palace, wandering it's huge cavernous halls and taking in the selection of paintings , sculpture and furniture on display. We met Martha half way through. She had finally got her ticket to Moscow. It turns out the phone no had changed but the office neglected to tell real russia and the helpful local actually only served as a distraction as the office was where it was supposed to be.
24Sep. Martha left St Petersburg and G& I ended up in the Peter and Paul fortress. From this we got a different view of the city. We even saw some of the infamous standing sunbathers taking in the sun along the beach by the fort. Apparently you get a better tan standing up. There were quite a few brown bodies but many were of the silver haired variety or maybe they were right but the sun was taking it's toll.
We found a few choclolate museums but I couldnt find any takers to enter. Bummer it would have been nice.
We also ran in to this Russian guide called Yuly. He was retired and ended up chatting to us for over an hour. He was a fantastic person to talk to. So intelligent and well read. He was suffering a lot because of the changes in Russia over the last 20-30 years. Pre Perostroika, he would have had a good pension but this was now not going to happen. A lot of the elderly were like this. Many forced to live on 1000 rubles even less a month. We saw many old Babushkas selling the produce of their garden or various handicrafts around St Petersburg. It was qute sad.
Most of the beggars are also the old or infirm. Many congregate around churches at service time.
The breakdown of communism, has in many ways, left sections of Russias citizens stranded.
If I had met Yuli at the start of our time in St Petersburg, I woudl definitly have taken him out to dinner and asked him to teach me Russian. It would have been a fabulous way to talk to a local and learn at the same time whilst still helping at least for one person.
Today we got on the Metro again and ventured to buy our first train tickets. We wrote what we wanted on a postit and handed it to the lady behind the counter. After some conversation we finally figured out that the 8hr train we wanted was booked but we got on a later train which was 12 hours. To be honest the longer journey was better and it turned out to be half the price. Result. We are on our way.
On the plane we met a Canadian called Martha. She ended up joining us for a few days and shared a room with us. On arrival in St Petersburg, as we queued. I stupidly mentioned about my bag being lost in Isreal. Well Martha and Graham picked up their bags but mine was nowhere to be found. what a surprise. It is scary how sometimes I say things and either I pre-empt them or I'm cursed.
After going back and forth filling out customs forms in duplicate, and completing the forms 3 times, as they didn't tell me how to fill it in, only the third person was nice enough to do that, I was finally able to go to the lost luggage office, where they had already located my bag and were arranging for it's delivery. Thank god we had booked a hostel.
We finally made it to the hostel. This was after being guided to get off at the completely wrong bus stop and aas a result to now having to negotiate the metro. The very kindly hostel owner brought us to another hostel as we were now 3. He gave us a mini tour of St Petersburg. He pointed out the smallest statue, as per the guinness book of records. This is a little bird about 7 or 8 inches in height positioned down a wall on the river side, 3 feet down from the top of the wall and about 2 feet above the water. This little bird is on a plinth and the idea is to throw coins. Should you be so lucky to have your coin hit the bird and stay on the plinth then you will return to St Petersburg. My coins didnt oblige. But there was always a queue, and some people succeeded.
21-22Sep. We were about an hours walk from the centre of the old town. So we did a lot of walking. The LP recommends a walk indicating sights to be seen along various streets. Each building was another revelation of what the city had to offer. The weather was very obliging and the sun and temperature were just perfect. Even got sunburnt.
St Petersburg is beautiful, well at least the old town. There are some magnificent buildings. Peter the great, his successors or indeed the weathly in general and even the Soviets, were not shy in showing their wealth and privilege. Martha left us to go in search of her tickets to Moscow at the Real Russia's partner's St Petersburg office. She didnt find it despite the help of an English speaking local.
23Sep: We spent a day in the Hermitage, formerly the Winter Palace, wandering it's huge cavernous halls and taking in the selection of paintings , sculpture and furniture on display. We met Martha half way through. She had finally got her ticket to Moscow. It turns out the phone no had changed but the office neglected to tell real russia and the helpful local actually only served as a distraction as the office was where it was supposed to be.
24Sep. Martha left St Petersburg and G& I ended up in the Peter and Paul fortress. From this we got a different view of the city. We even saw some of the infamous standing sunbathers taking in the sun along the beach by the fort. Apparently you get a better tan standing up. There were quite a few brown bodies but many were of the silver haired variety or maybe they were right but the sun was taking it's toll.
We found a few choclolate museums but I couldnt find any takers to enter. Bummer it would have been nice.
We also ran in to this Russian guide called Yuly. He was retired and ended up chatting to us for over an hour. He was a fantastic person to talk to. So intelligent and well read. He was suffering a lot because of the changes in Russia over the last 20-30 years. Pre Perostroika, he would have had a good pension but this was now not going to happen. A lot of the elderly were like this. Many forced to live on 1000 rubles even less a month. We saw many old Babushkas selling the produce of their garden or various handicrafts around St Petersburg. It was qute sad.
Most of the beggars are also the old or infirm. Many congregate around churches at service time.
The breakdown of communism, has in many ways, left sections of Russias citizens stranded.
If I had met Yuli at the start of our time in St Petersburg, I woudl definitly have taken him out to dinner and asked him to teach me Russian. It would have been a fabulous way to talk to a local and learn at the same time whilst still helping at least for one person.
Today we got on the Metro again and ventured to buy our first train tickets. We wrote what we wanted on a postit and handed it to the lady behind the counter. After some conversation we finally figured out that the 8hr train we wanted was booked but we got on a later train which was 12 hours. To be honest the longer journey was better and it turned out to be half the price. Result. We are on our way.
Poland, Back Home, Spain and off again
Poland trip to be added. To be added
The last few months have been spent hunting for temp jobs as I knew I was going to be around for a few months and then trying to get a job for a ski season. Neither really worked out. The rest of the time was spent organizing the Trans Siberian Trip. And god did that take time. I spent weeks with Graham researching train times and visas and blogs etc. To the point we finally gave up on the ghost of organizing the trains in advance. The cost of doing so was 40% on top of the ticket price. So as it is going to be end of September before we arrive, it will be end of season. Therefore the logic is… more chance of getting them when we get there.
The visa situation was as interesting. I first had to get a new passport as I only had one page left but years left on the actual passport. All those stamps from those work trips to the US. This took about 2 weeks, then I had to drop the passports into this agency (Real Russia) which took 10 days to process getting our Russian visa. I then queued up at the Chinese Embassy for a few hours to drop my passports in there and collect 3 days later, after I returned from a week in Ireland for my cousins wedding. And I had to have my passport before going to Porto Banus for Janet’s birthday mid September. It was a close call but managed to do it with a few days to spare. Stressful is just not the word. I had to have all my stuff packed and removed to Storage before the 14th September. God but this was hell, as I managed to get some work for 2 weeks which meant that all the packing had to be literally stuffed into 4 days instead of the 3 weeks I had planned. Ah the sheer joy of it.
And then I went to Spain with Janet, Ali Smith, Shak and Honorah. If I thought I would get some rest on this trip I was soooooo mistaken. They just wore me out. The earliest we got to bed was 2.30am and that was the first night. Our days were spent giggling on the beach and nights were spent quaffing wine and getting down on any dance floor that would have us.
The last few months have been spent hunting for temp jobs as I knew I was going to be around for a few months and then trying to get a job for a ski season. Neither really worked out. The rest of the time was spent organizing the Trans Siberian Trip. And god did that take time. I spent weeks with Graham researching train times and visas and blogs etc. To the point we finally gave up on the ghost of organizing the trains in advance. The cost of doing so was 40% on top of the ticket price. So as it is going to be end of September before we arrive, it will be end of season. Therefore the logic is… more chance of getting them when we get there.
The visa situation was as interesting. I first had to get a new passport as I only had one page left but years left on the actual passport. All those stamps from those work trips to the US. This took about 2 weeks, then I had to drop the passports into this agency (Real Russia) which took 10 days to process getting our Russian visa. I then queued up at the Chinese Embassy for a few hours to drop my passports in there and collect 3 days later, after I returned from a week in Ireland for my cousins wedding. And I had to have my passport before going to Porto Banus for Janet’s birthday mid September. It was a close call but managed to do it with a few days to spare. Stressful is just not the word. I had to have all my stuff packed and removed to Storage before the 14th September. God but this was hell, as I managed to get some work for 2 weeks which meant that all the packing had to be literally stuffed into 4 days instead of the 3 weeks I had planned. Ah the sheer joy of it.
And then I went to Spain with Janet, Ali Smith, Shak and Honorah. If I thought I would get some rest on this trip I was soooooo mistaken. They just wore me out. The earliest we got to bed was 2.30am and that was the first night. Our days were spent giggling on the beach and nights were spent quaffing wine and getting down on any dance floor that would have us.
Final Days in SE Asia
Well my last few days in SE Asia went in a whirr. Most of it was spent traveling.
I was in the North of Laos and had to get back to Vientien (the capital city of Laos) to catch a bus to Bangkok so I could fly home. I ran out of money and as there is only one ATM in the whole of Laos and this is in Vientien. I had a problem. I finally tracked down a money changer who totally ripped me off but it was my only option, as some of my notes were already refused by another changer, as they didn’t have the right “picture” yeah right!!!
I managed to get from Louang Prabang with out issue. It was an amusing journey, one of the best. I went on the local bus so there were only 2 of us Ferrangi/westerners.
The seat next to me was occupied by a 30 something Laos man who came on board with a live chicken inside a blue plastic bag with just the head sticking out. The misfortunate chicken or rather the bag was then tied to the bar across of the seat in front sot that the chicken didn’t get to run away. However, each time the bus veered around a sharp turn in the road, the chicken went squawking to the opposite side of the seat only to return to the other side at the next turn. I became engrossed in watching this chicken “surfing”. At several points of the journey the chicken looked like it might make a run for it but the chicken tamer was way too quick. At one of the stops the other westerner came over and asked me if I had expected to be sharing my seat with a live chicken. I said no but my journey was the better for it. Although my heart went out to the poor chicken. Maybe he was to be someone’s dowry… Or dinner…
The westerner turned out to be a retired American Anthropologist. He had just been accepted to join a monastery in Louang Prabang and was on his way to get his visa extended in Vientien. The head monk accepted him even though he didn’t know how to speak Laos. But the American was here to learn it and I think he will succeed. I was very impressed with his perseverance and dedication. There are not many people who would do it.
In Vientien I was supposed to wait for the bus at this bar. So I spoke to the staff and they… well didn’t give me much info. Near the time of departure I asked again this time they showed me this office at the back of the bar. Turns out my bus had gone. Oh the joy. However, the office staff rang the rep in the bus and asked him to wait for me. So I ended up making a mad dash in a tuk tuk to the Thai border. God I was so glad I got that extra money changed.
I met Noa (the Isreali girl I met in Vien Vieng) in the queue. It was nice to catch up and see a friendly face. I made it through the border and thank god I had brought my spare bath from home as ii was able to pay the charge to get in to Thailand. I got a hotel in Bangkok had a few hours kip and then went shopping for underwear in my favourite mall in Bangkok. Bliss!!!! Then got my flight home.
I was in the North of Laos and had to get back to Vientien (the capital city of Laos) to catch a bus to Bangkok so I could fly home. I ran out of money and as there is only one ATM in the whole of Laos and this is in Vientien. I had a problem. I finally tracked down a money changer who totally ripped me off but it was my only option, as some of my notes were already refused by another changer, as they didn’t have the right “picture” yeah right!!!
I managed to get from Louang Prabang with out issue. It was an amusing journey, one of the best. I went on the local bus so there were only 2 of us Ferrangi/westerners.
The seat next to me was occupied by a 30 something Laos man who came on board with a live chicken inside a blue plastic bag with just the head sticking out. The misfortunate chicken or rather the bag was then tied to the bar across of the seat in front sot that the chicken didn’t get to run away. However, each time the bus veered around a sharp turn in the road, the chicken went squawking to the opposite side of the seat only to return to the other side at the next turn. I became engrossed in watching this chicken “surfing”. At several points of the journey the chicken looked like it might make a run for it but the chicken tamer was way too quick. At one of the stops the other westerner came over and asked me if I had expected to be sharing my seat with a live chicken. I said no but my journey was the better for it. Although my heart went out to the poor chicken. Maybe he was to be someone’s dowry… Or dinner…
The westerner turned out to be a retired American Anthropologist. He had just been accepted to join a monastery in Louang Prabang and was on his way to get his visa extended in Vientien. The head monk accepted him even though he didn’t know how to speak Laos. But the American was here to learn it and I think he will succeed. I was very impressed with his perseverance and dedication. There are not many people who would do it.
In Vientien I was supposed to wait for the bus at this bar. So I spoke to the staff and they… well didn’t give me much info. Near the time of departure I asked again this time they showed me this office at the back of the bar. Turns out my bus had gone. Oh the joy. However, the office staff rang the rep in the bus and asked him to wait for me. So I ended up making a mad dash in a tuk tuk to the Thai border. God I was so glad I got that extra money changed.
I met Noa (the Isreali girl I met in Vien Vieng) in the queue. It was nice to catch up and see a friendly face. I made it through the border and thank god I had brought my spare bath from home as ii was able to pay the charge to get in to Thailand. I got a hotel in Bangkok had a few hours kip and then went shopping for underwear in my favourite mall in Bangkok. Bliss!!!! Then got my flight home.
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