waking to rush to the kremlin, we found out that lenin was taking a rest, as he was tired of seeing all the damn tourists circling round him, as he lay motionless in a glass case, like an exhibit. so we didn't get to see the plasticised, embalmed, stiff grey and of course, great, lenin.
we got to the ticketing office of the kremlin and got greeted by a gremlin (more on that later). the old lady was really strict, even though my student card said "student" and "2010". good thing xinying had an isic card, so we got 2 student priced tickets (50 roubles), while we got fined with an adult, non-subsidised, 300 rouble adult ticket.
we saw a drill parade rehearsal as well a really big gun, i mean, cannon. the tsar's cannon has a 89cm bore that has never fired, but it really is very big. the drill parade was pretty impressive, with the horses prancing about in varying patterns (i caught one pooping while performing!! looks like it wasn't just us who got the shits). i was half laughing as i imagined myself as the guest of honour, who has probably seen so many of these parades, just wanting to get the parade over and done with and get to the food!
we saw the giant tsar's bell, weighing at an intense 202 tonne. it never rang, since an 11 tonne piece chipped off while it was cooling in the foundry casting pit in 1737. the bell was intricately carved. a remarked that he would be surely pissed if he was the one who did the carving on the bell. all that work and someone's mistake of letting the cooling bell get into contact with water... surely someone's head rolled.
after a while, you get sick of seeing all the churches. it's dark, it's intricately decorated with gold and deep reds and many saints painted on the walls and ceilings, and beams of sunligh cutting through the tangibly thick atmosphere. and after a while, we got pretty tired and sat out on a bench, talking about funny army experiences and what not. eventually, hunger got the better of us and we gladly found our favourite store, tepemok, which sells blinys (delicious to me, but probably not to the bliny connesieur). i had a coarsely textured goose liver pate (bet it was more chicken than goose liver) bliny with pickles. there wasn't much to do, so we headed back and now i am typing this out.
-l
next article: reported sightings in russia.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
moscow day 2
day 2:
so after sleeping at a late 3am (i've been sleeping 13 hours for the past 3 nights, minus the train night ride), i woke up feeling slightly shitty, because i knew i had to get registered in moscow. it's not such a simple thing, as registering at the post office involves a great deal of trouble for our host deric, even after we leave moscow. so, we decided to register at a hostel, which means that we have to pay a sum equal to staying 3 nights at the hostel, which also means 1000 roubles, or 50usd. see what i mean when i wake up feeling shitty.
good thing is, we don't have to get registered, since the regulation is to be in a city for at least 3 working days. we're there for 2 working days, since sun mon and tues are holidays, due to tuesday being national day.
we left for the really big arts and craft market in izmaylovo, about 7 stops from where we were (oktyabrskaya). so we step out of the metro and as i'm looking around for the market (or any signs of it), k sees a medieval tower rising out from a distance.
thus the trio set forward for that tower (might there be a dragon to slay?)
and as we near, we see a sight so familiar to us. stores sell sunglasses, clothes (aber ombie?), shoes, bags, perfume (ever heard of luckost?). except it's at least 3 times more expensive. naohiah. anyway, i'm going to china, land of the pirated plentiful, so i'm not really regretting that prices here are that high.
izmaylovo market charges a 10 rouble (0.50 usd) entrance fee to enter. once you go in, stores and stores (think chatuchak market, minus the heat and the asian people, add a lot of white not very smiley people and take away the large overhead roof) of handicrafts spread out before you. matryoshky dolls, khokhloma (lacquer bowls), linen, jewellry, those fuzzy furry warm hats that look like they've been made out of puffy animals, soviet posters and badges etc abound. there is an upper level selling icons (paintings of the saints of the orthodox church) and paintings.
the main draw for me were all the old cameras. a friendly russian guy was showing me a medium format camera that captured 2 frames in a single shot (the camera opens up like a cupboard does when you open the 2 doors simultaneously), a really old lomo, a tiny german made camera about 2 matchbox widths apart, and a gigantic camera lens (about 1000mm) that was made in 1956 and used in Grand Prix races. interesting eh. i wish i could speak russian, then i would be able to talk to him about where he got these cameras. i'm sure he would have stories behind almost of all the things he had on display ( or maybe i'm just dreaming too much eh.)
as we are 3 growing men, we are hungry most of the time. the smell of a bbq caught us and we soon saw faint clouds of smoke billowing from a side of the street. kebabs! but were they grotesquely expensive. a stick of meat, 200 roubles. with pita bread, an additional 20 roubles. after that night of a 8usd beer, i wasn't feeling too generous with myself. so we opted to walk out to find cheaper food. i suggested shaslyk, but the rest wasn't feeling too sure of it, since it was out in the open.
we found a stall selling humjingpeng lookalikes, and for 0.50usd, i got a piece of fried dough with some unknown meat inside. and it was pretty good! there was this suspicious barrel next to me, and the guy was asking me if i wanted some. for another 0.50usd, i got a small cup of kvas, which is fermented rye bread water, served gassy, cold, and therefore refreshing. it was seriously pretty shiok. rye bread is a dark dense bread, that has a herby, sprightly, slightly grassy but quite a refreshing taste. kvas is made from rye bread, and has quite a similar taste. and it's damn shiok when it's cold and the sun is hot, bright and shining in a sky with no clouds. and it becomes even more shiok when you have an oily piece of dough with some unknown meat inside (what an adventure eh).
further on we went, and we saw this couple eating a boat shaped piece of dough, with a half cooked egg nested in the boat (khachapri po-adzharski). a got 1. the old ladies were pulling out batches of the dough, baked a golden brown and shiny like a waxed car. surely they (the dough lah!) were calling out to me, all the while winking with buttery goodness in the sun. so i got another 1 that looked like a pita, but had cheese inside (khachapuri po-imeretinsk). the ladies inside the store were smiley and were trying to pose for k as they made a new batch of dough. the just-mentioned food is georgian. and the deep fried cheese i had with the dark lovely belgian beer (that had a lovely price too...) the other time is also georgian (very unlike the mozzerella cheese sticks).
one bite and i was taken. seriously. imagine a crisp, slightly salty shell giving way to dense soft warm dough that could cushion your fall from the sky. and then the climax of salty salty tasty midly sour cheese that bites your tastebuds and sends you reeling into paradise. well not yet. you're lacking the magic of kvas, or baltika no 7, to send you on a one way ticket to happiness (or until the food and drink runs out). that seriously made my day. the salt of the cheese, the coldness of the beer or kvas, the warmth of the bread, the sun on my face and the oh-so-familiar smell of freshly cooked dough, made me very very satisfied with life then. all was well.
we headed back, me still a little giddy from the elation of food and drink, and got food for dinner. pangang currym, sweet and sour chicken, nonya sambal prawns, beer, wine, ice cream, delicious soft cookies and chocolate liquer and a company of 7 made dinner a really enjoyable affair. fish sauce exudes an interesting smell, which our guest alex, a russian, found, um, unique. we managed to asianise him by making him do that finger posing thing as we took pictures of him. and we also convinced him to try the fish sauce. pity there was no durian.
*actually, i have a confession to make. since there was no coconut milk for the curry, i used cream and milk. and the milk i used smelled fine. unfortunately, someone remarked 10 minutes after i added the milk to the curry ( i was alone in the kitchen then), that it was off. all was fine, although i got the shits later. k & a remarked that it was my fault that they had the shits too. but the rest of the food was spicy right....(excuse my weak attempt at justification)
-l
so after sleeping at a late 3am (i've been sleeping 13 hours for the past 3 nights, minus the train night ride), i woke up feeling slightly shitty, because i knew i had to get registered in moscow. it's not such a simple thing, as registering at the post office involves a great deal of trouble for our host deric, even after we leave moscow. so, we decided to register at a hostel, which means that we have to pay a sum equal to staying 3 nights at the hostel, which also means 1000 roubles, or 50usd. see what i mean when i wake up feeling shitty.
good thing is, we don't have to get registered, since the regulation is to be in a city for at least 3 working days. we're there for 2 working days, since sun mon and tues are holidays, due to tuesday being national day.
we left for the really big arts and craft market in izmaylovo, about 7 stops from where we were (oktyabrskaya). so we step out of the metro and as i'm looking around for the market (or any signs of it), k sees a medieval tower rising out from a distance.
thus the trio set forward for that tower (might there be a dragon to slay?)
and as we near, we see a sight so familiar to us. stores sell sunglasses, clothes (aber ombie?), shoes, bags, perfume (ever heard of luckost?). except it's at least 3 times more expensive. naohiah. anyway, i'm going to china, land of the pirated plentiful, so i'm not really regretting that prices here are that high.
izmaylovo market charges a 10 rouble (0.50 usd) entrance fee to enter. once you go in, stores and stores (think chatuchak market, minus the heat and the asian people, add a lot of white not very smiley people and take away the large overhead roof) of handicrafts spread out before you. matryoshky dolls, khokhloma (lacquer bowls), linen, jewellry, those fuzzy furry warm hats that look like they've been made out of puffy animals, soviet posters and badges etc abound. there is an upper level selling icons (paintings of the saints of the orthodox church) and paintings.
the main draw for me were all the old cameras. a friendly russian guy was showing me a medium format camera that captured 2 frames in a single shot (the camera opens up like a cupboard does when you open the 2 doors simultaneously), a really old lomo, a tiny german made camera about 2 matchbox widths apart, and a gigantic camera lens (about 1000mm) that was made in 1956 and used in Grand Prix races. interesting eh. i wish i could speak russian, then i would be able to talk to him about where he got these cameras. i'm sure he would have stories behind almost of all the things he had on display ( or maybe i'm just dreaming too much eh.)
as we are 3 growing men, we are hungry most of the time. the smell of a bbq caught us and we soon saw faint clouds of smoke billowing from a side of the street. kebabs! but were they grotesquely expensive. a stick of meat, 200 roubles. with pita bread, an additional 20 roubles. after that night of a 8usd beer, i wasn't feeling too generous with myself. so we opted to walk out to find cheaper food. i suggested shaslyk, but the rest wasn't feeling too sure of it, since it was out in the open.
we found a stall selling humjingpeng lookalikes, and for 0.50usd, i got a piece of fried dough with some unknown meat inside. and it was pretty good! there was this suspicious barrel next to me, and the guy was asking me if i wanted some. for another 0.50usd, i got a small cup of kvas, which is fermented rye bread water, served gassy, cold, and therefore refreshing. it was seriously pretty shiok. rye bread is a dark dense bread, that has a herby, sprightly, slightly grassy but quite a refreshing taste. kvas is made from rye bread, and has quite a similar taste. and it's damn shiok when it's cold and the sun is hot, bright and shining in a sky with no clouds. and it becomes even more shiok when you have an oily piece of dough with some unknown meat inside (what an adventure eh).
further on we went, and we saw this couple eating a boat shaped piece of dough, with a half cooked egg nested in the boat (khachapri po-adzharski). a got 1. the old ladies were pulling out batches of the dough, baked a golden brown and shiny like a waxed car. surely they (the dough lah!) were calling out to me, all the while winking with buttery goodness in the sun. so i got another 1 that looked like a pita, but had cheese inside (khachapuri po-imeretinsk). the ladies inside the store were smiley and were trying to pose for k as they made a new batch of dough. the just-mentioned food is georgian. and the deep fried cheese i had with the dark lovely belgian beer (that had a lovely price too...) the other time is also georgian (very unlike the mozzerella cheese sticks).
one bite and i was taken. seriously. imagine a crisp, slightly salty shell giving way to dense soft warm dough that could cushion your fall from the sky. and then the climax of salty salty tasty midly sour cheese that bites your tastebuds and sends you reeling into paradise. well not yet. you're lacking the magic of kvas, or baltika no 7, to send you on a one way ticket to happiness (or until the food and drink runs out). that seriously made my day. the salt of the cheese, the coldness of the beer or kvas, the warmth of the bread, the sun on my face and the oh-so-familiar smell of freshly cooked dough, made me very very satisfied with life then. all was well.
we headed back, me still a little giddy from the elation of food and drink, and got food for dinner. pangang currym, sweet and sour chicken, nonya sambal prawns, beer, wine, ice cream, delicious soft cookies and chocolate liquer and a company of 7 made dinner a really enjoyable affair. fish sauce exudes an interesting smell, which our guest alex, a russian, found, um, unique. we managed to asianise him by making him do that finger posing thing as we took pictures of him. and we also convinced him to try the fish sauce. pity there was no durian.
*actually, i have a confession to make. since there was no coconut milk for the curry, i used cream and milk. and the milk i used smelled fine. unfortunately, someone remarked 10 minutes after i added the milk to the curry ( i was alone in the kitchen then), that it was off. all was fine, although i got the shits later. k & a remarked that it was my fault that they had the shits too. but the rest of the food was spicy right....(excuse my weak attempt at justification)
-l
Saturday, June 9, 2007
dumplings
I can't wait to get to moscow where a kitchen is available. all this not hot food of cheese bread and fish that was once interesting is getting a little boring. i'm looking forward to hot dumplings and some hot soup.
-l (8/6/07)
-l (8/6/07)
moscow day 1
moscow visa registration, the policy and the polizi are a real pain in the ass. but i'll save that for later.
the day we left novgorod for moscow (7/6), we woke up late and got our stuff ready to meet tanya, an english teacher teaching in a middle school in russia. we met her 15 yr old daughter and her after sitting around in the big square of novgorod reading/writing. after talking to tanya, we spent an admirable (for me, that is) 7 hours reading in 2 cafes to kill time before we boarded the train for moscow.
on the train, i had a fitful 2 hours of sleep as i thought of the various possibilities of getting thieved, and the different ways i could stop or not stop the thievery. obviously, there was a lot of fighting in those imagined situations, and that kept quite some adrenaline in my system. also, there was a not so nice smelling man (musty, a bit of stale beer and a little more of body odour, as well as the scent of oily unwashed hair) who slept next to me and kept on looking at me before he went to sleep, so that kept me alert as well.
russian life is pretty tough (seriously!!). the price of food is NOT cheap, cars are only for those with spare cash, bus stops are not as obvious as those in singapore and housing is really expensive. the good thing is, the government takes the burden off its people's backs by providing free medical treatment and education. education in private schools, according to her, does not show better results than education in public schools. and the surprising thing is, a normal class size in a private school is 10-15, while a normal class size in a public school is 20-25. (india, malaysia, singapore classes are almost twice the size). and if you go to university, you don't have to go to army too!
i find it strange that russia has such a high standard of living even though it is not really developed. and thus, that is how i nearly looked like a fool with a wide open mouth when the bill for last night's dinner came.
we were having dinner at cafe bilingua with xinying and meeshell, 2 singaporean girls, deric our host, steve, an american linguist, and anya, a polish graduate student working on her pHD in english in the us and happily married to each other. xinying is about to graduate from beijing university with a degree in international relations and a minor in japanese, and meeshell has just graduated with a degree in accountancy. both have been travelling a lot ( like a lot!)
i had a draught dark belgian beer, and it was really malty and pretty sweet too. and i had fried georgian cheese with it. superb. but when the bill came, my beer came up to 195 roubles, and the entire meal, 280 roubles, which is about 10+ usd. which, had i asked the price of the beer, meant that i could have actually had a bigger meat dish. naohiah. i'm not complaining, it's just that it's US prices in a place 2 notches below france. so i'm really surprised.
on our way to a pub later, we got stopped by a rather weighty puffy policeman in his policecar and man, was it a pain in the ass. we were asked for our passports, which we passed our photocopied ones to him. then he asked for our registration, and since we could not register that day, was asked to go to the police station with him. bloody hell. so we called deric, who talked to the policeman. the phone was passed back and forth between Puffy and i, and i learnt from deric that the policeman said indirectly that we had tried to bribe him (wth???) and that we had to pay a fine. good thing deric talked a little more and Puffy soon realised that going through 2 hours of paperwork to get enough money for some bliney was not worth it. so he told us yellow boys to scoot and go back home.
-l
the day we left novgorod for moscow (7/6), we woke up late and got our stuff ready to meet tanya, an english teacher teaching in a middle school in russia. we met her 15 yr old daughter and her after sitting around in the big square of novgorod reading/writing. after talking to tanya, we spent an admirable (for me, that is) 7 hours reading in 2 cafes to kill time before we boarded the train for moscow.
on the train, i had a fitful 2 hours of sleep as i thought of the various possibilities of getting thieved, and the different ways i could stop or not stop the thievery. obviously, there was a lot of fighting in those imagined situations, and that kept quite some adrenaline in my system. also, there was a not so nice smelling man (musty, a bit of stale beer and a little more of body odour, as well as the scent of oily unwashed hair) who slept next to me and kept on looking at me before he went to sleep, so that kept me alert as well.
russian life is pretty tough (seriously!!). the price of food is NOT cheap, cars are only for those with spare cash, bus stops are not as obvious as those in singapore and housing is really expensive. the good thing is, the government takes the burden off its people's backs by providing free medical treatment and education. education in private schools, according to her, does not show better results than education in public schools. and the surprising thing is, a normal class size in a private school is 10-15, while a normal class size in a public school is 20-25. (india, malaysia, singapore classes are almost twice the size). and if you go to university, you don't have to go to army too!
i find it strange that russia has such a high standard of living even though it is not really developed. and thus, that is how i nearly looked like a fool with a wide open mouth when the bill for last night's dinner came.
we were having dinner at cafe bilingua with xinying and meeshell, 2 singaporean girls, deric our host, steve, an american linguist, and anya, a polish graduate student working on her pHD in english in the us and happily married to each other. xinying is about to graduate from beijing university with a degree in international relations and a minor in japanese, and meeshell has just graduated with a degree in accountancy. both have been travelling a lot ( like a lot!)
i had a draught dark belgian beer, and it was really malty and pretty sweet too. and i had fried georgian cheese with it. superb. but when the bill came, my beer came up to 195 roubles, and the entire meal, 280 roubles, which is about 10+ usd. which, had i asked the price of the beer, meant that i could have actually had a bigger meat dish. naohiah. i'm not complaining, it's just that it's US prices in a place 2 notches below france. so i'm really surprised.
on our way to a pub later, we got stopped by a rather weighty puffy policeman in his policecar and man, was it a pain in the ass. we were asked for our passports, which we passed our photocopied ones to him. then he asked for our registration, and since we could not register that day, was asked to go to the police station with him. bloody hell. so we called deric, who talked to the policeman. the phone was passed back and forth between Puffy and i, and i learnt from deric that the policeman said indirectly that we had tried to bribe him (wth???) and that we had to pay a fine. good thing deric talked a little more and Puffy soon realised that going through 2 hours of paperwork to get enough money for some bliney was not worth it. so he told us yellow boys to scoot and go back home.
-l
Novgorod - bathing out of a cup
The hotel we're staying at in Novgorod is crap. It isn't so much the undersized beds or the broken furniture or the lack of ventilation or the trance music or the unfriendly receptionist, it's the shower. The shower offers 2 alternatives: boiling hot or freezing cold. Both extremities I am unwilling to live with. Sure you can throw all that 'but you've been through far worse in the Navy' stuff at me, but I ain't fighting a war here, I'm on holiday thank you very much. So I've resorted to bathing out of a cup. Mixing the boiling shower water with the freezing tap water to produce a compromise. This process is tedious but inevitable for the sake of my welfare. My first attempt involved a glass cup which proceeded to crack under the temperature changes, leading me to find a shard of glass in my hair and forcing a number of expletives in various languages on my tongue. A trial attempt involving a plastic bag and gravity proved futile. I am now using a mineral bottle cut in half to fulfill my bathing needs. We continue to eat bread and canned fish. Life sucks.
-a
-a
St. Petersburg - Into Russia
Welcome to Russia - St. Petersburg!
Finally, after our successful border crossing, we entered our 'primary' destination : Russia. Our first port-of-call is St. Petersburg. Founded by Peter the Great three hundred and four years and one week ago to be the new capital of Russia, St. Petersburg rose up from the marshes and quickly developed. The capital has been since moved back to Moscow, but St. Petersburg has continued to grow especially with additional attention as the hometown of President Putin.
The bus dropped us off on one of the long, wide streets, or "prospects". This particular one was Moscovsky Prospeckt, which was supposed to be near our hostel. Unfortunately, the prospeckt being a particularly long road, the Metro Tour hostel was actually a good way down. After digging around for a currency exchange open at 6am, dragging our backpacks into a small pharmacy for metro directions and some map reading, we rode the metro to Elecktrosila station.
Our hostel, the Metro-tour hostel was pleasant and clean enough. Our room wasn't quite ready and so we dropped our backpacks off and set off into the city. We didn't get too much done in the first day. We walked around the city center, admiring the beautiful cathedrals but not knowing their names or significance. We bought our train tickets (short line : long wait!) to our next destination, scoped out the central market which had a lot of fresh produce, went online at an internet cafe (48 rubles an hour), and discovered a large Carrefour-like supermarket near our hostel. We got a cheap dinner for ourselves there and went back to the hostel to eat our bread and canned fish before turning in early after an exhausting day.
The second day was rather more exciting. =) Once again waking up late, we then proceeded to rush to International Hostel to go on a 5 hour long walking tour of St. Petersburg. We managed to get ourselves lost several times on the way. Luke was constantly asking passers-by where the street was : unfortunately, there were three streets with the same name! We eventually found our way there in time and met our guide (Elena). After becoming 430 rubles lighter, we were off!
The tour was quite enjoyable and was better than I expected. We visited several spots throughout the city center, stopping every so often to allow our guide to give us a little information. Some notable spots included the office of the Temple Of Peace and Love or something like that, where Russia's greatest Beatles fan lives. On the walls of the courtyard outside his house were plaques of the faces of the four Beatles and a painting of a large yellow submarine. This fan intends to build a volcano-shaped Temple to the Beatles on the coast of Finland. Hmmm.
The tour also showed us several spots where local 'legends' had formed, such as a cat on a ledge, a bird on the side of a bridge and a large plaque that depicted a storm scene with a man trying to climb onto a boat. At all these spots, one was supposed to throw coins, or in the case of the man overboard, push him up, and - voíla! - your wish would be granted! Apparently these legends appear rapidly and frequently. Hmmm.
Other things we did on the tour included a revisiting of the central market, relaxing and chatting with other tour group members at a American Rock & Roll theme bar for lunch (hahaha!), learning a little about the history and significance of the Russian author Pushkin and, of course, walking. For four hours. Hmmm.
We then proceeded to the Nevsky Prospekt metro station to meet a contact that I found through the couchsurfing website (http://www.couchsurfing.com), a longtime resident and seasoned adventurer of St. Petersburg, Elena. After a rather awkward (on our side, anyway) initial greeting, we took a long walk in search of a cafe.
After some trouble, we managed to locate the particular cafe that was previously pointed out to us on the walking tour; apparently it was an 'underground' cafe. It turns out that the cafe was well above ground! It was located on a balcony halfway up one of the ubiquitous six story apartment buildings of St. Petersburg, right above the office of the Temple of Love etcetera etcetera. It was 'underground' because it used to serve the Russian cultural underground and still maintains the small, 'indie' feel. Enjoying a cool drink while chatting about our travels and St. Petersburg was excellent. We went around the table sharing about ourselves and Elena took her turn. She told us that she was a graduated a year ago and was working in a very new equity management industry in St. Petersburg, enjoyed meeting new friends from around the world, going to jazz clubs and 'roofing'. We looked quizzically at each other at the mention of this last hobby of hers. "Would you like to go and find a roof?", she said. Not knowing what we were getting ourselves into, we agreed. And thus we set out for Elena's 'favorite roof', our short rest at the cafe completely insufficient for the purpose of preparing us for what was coming up next.
Our quartet arrived at yet another old apartment building and Elena started to push at combination locks on entryways. We located one that surrendered to her gentle attacks, clambered up 6 storys of gloomy, urine-laced stairwell and were promptly met by an unyielding metal door and its friend, the unyielding metal lock. Sigh. Back down the stairs we went, and Elena quickly went in search for another entryway.
The next one was open as well and she told us to wait downstairs as she scouted ahead, or rather, above. The three of us shared increasingly questioning (and increasingly tired) glances as uncertainty about this whole affair mounted. A shout of "Come up!" from above startled us all, and since we were such obedient boys, we proceeded to do just that. A flight of stairs later, we faced an dark attic littered with construction debris, with a shaft of sunlight visible on the other end of the room. Manuvering across broken planks and bricks, we ducked through the little window into a new world that we will long remember : the world of roofing.
I emerged onto the roof of the building, six storys above the ground. Tin plates crackled beneath my feet as I balanced on the sloped roof. A very fragile, rusty looking, two-foot high railing lined the edge of the roof, the only safety measure against an accidental slip. Once I gathered the courage to tear my eyes away from my feet, I looked up and found that my breath had left me. For before me lay St. Petersburg in glory, as seen from a most unlikely vantage point : the roof of a dilapidated apartment building. The late afternoon sun cut across the sky, enveloping the city with a blanket of gold. Sharp, thin shadows hid the alleys in contrast with the brightly illuminated yet unseen rooftops of St. Petersburg. The city stretched out in all directions, the endless rows of apartments with antennas sprouting from their rooftops surrouding the domes of the cathedrals that brightly winked at us as Elena named them one by one. Elena grinned as the rest of us gaped. A quick briefing on roofing later (be careful!) we started moving across the roof. The apartment building was quite large but the roof was sloped and was built quite irregularly. This allowed us to move for quite a distance across the rooftop under Elena's guidance, avoiding cables and antennae while holding on to chimneys. Every step revealed more vantage points as I delighted in the amazing view and experience. We would stop and rest in the breeze while soaking in the view that surrounded us for a moment before continuing.
We spotted a group of people at the other end of the building and headed over to them "We can go down their exit!", exclaimed Elena). A few loose chimney bricks later, we met a group of youths dressed in the Goth style enjoying a bit of roofing as well. A quick exchange of Russian later, we dissapeared down another exit and emerged back at ground level once more.
Roofing in St. Petersburg was one of the most amazing experiences that I have ever had and even as I type this, I fondly recall the exhilaration I felt on that rooftop. Truly, it was an unexpected and completely "un-touristy" adventure. But the day was not done! More was yet to come.
We went off in search of Elena's favorite jazz club with as much haste as our tired legs could muster, for this club was purpoted to fill up by 8pm and the hour was quickly approaching. Unfortunately the club was quite far away, and as we approached the spot, Elena's friend contacted her on her mobile phone to inform her that there was no space left. Elena cheerfully shrugged and told us that she would take us to the "2nd favorite club", and brought us into a random sports bar for dinner.
The basement bar was filled with infantry gear and other war paraphernalia. Smoking men were watching a football (soccer) match between two Russian teams (the score was 3-0). We sat down in a corner and Elena gave our order to the proprietor, who appeared to be, interestingly enough, Chinese. Our meal was quite good and we started talking, through Elena, with the group sitting beside us. Before long, one of them decided that he would treat us all to a round of vodka in celebration of his football teams victory (the game ended 4-0). When the vodka shots arrived, I was quite astonished at the size of the shot glasses : they were at least 30% bigger than the ones I'd seen before and filled to the brim with pure Russian vodka. Some directions on Russian drinking were given : the vodka was traditionally chased with apple juice or beer (our host preferred beer...). Elena had began laughing and saying "You guys are crazy!" and I was beginning to have some doubts about my sanity as well. But, we couldn't very well offend our host's hospitality, could we? So, down the hatch!
It was definitely the smoothest vodka that I had taken and there was no burning sensation down the throat. The stories of the excellence of Russian vodka were unexaggerated. Luke was grinning happily. Our host, seeing how much we enjoyed the drinks, proceeded to call for another round. Oops. Elena said: "You guys are Really Crazy!". We survived the second round and our host's group and us left in search of a jazz club to relax in. Elena told us later that we had left quite an impression on the patrons of the bar. Thus was our first experience of the famed Russian hospitality.
Unfortunately the jazz club we went to was just finishing up its program and we bade farewell to our new friends, as much out of caution as weariness. Elena showed us back to our distant hostel and we rested there for a while. She wanted to take us to witness the raising of St. Petersburg's drawbridges under the white night, but we were tired as well as concerned about the hostel curfew and transportation after the Metro had closed. Elena had some words with the hostel receptionist who agreed to open the door for us after hours and told us to trust her for the rest. So, after a quick break, we set out once again at 11:45 pm.
We walked to a scenic spot along the river between two bridges and waited there for the bridges to rise. The sky was truly beautiful. It was glowing as if it were the last few minutes of sunset but the light was batrely changed even after half an hour. The horizon was lit with a brilliant orange light which faded to a pale blue above the treetops, silhouetting the cathedral domes across the river. There was a triple fountain on the river, lit by colourful lights and lasers, and the bridges were lined with white lights. There were even two small but excellent fireworks displays, probably to celebrate weddings. We waited there for a while, watching the tour boats on the river, laden with bridge watchers and admiring the breathtaking glow of St. Petersburg's white night. Soon, one of the bridges rose, and all the tour boats sailed up the river, herded along by a few police craft. It was quite amusing to see the hundred little boats sailing away in unison like a host of water skaters. Soon, a dark, unlit cargo ship came lumbering under the raised bridge after the tour boats had retreated. Elena told us that the cargo ship would be followed by many.
A rather high speed taxi ride later, we found ourselves back at hostel. The sky finally completely dark, we collapsed in our beds and remembered no more.
Our long day in St. Peterburg was truly enjoyable and we saw many things that we could never have otherwise have seen on the excellent walking tour. However, the greatest experiences of the day were discovered under the guidance of Elena. The adventure of roofing, enjoying Russian hospitality with a round (or two) of drinks, and sitting by the river under the glow of a St. Peterburg white night was amazing. We were very fortunate to have a friend like Elena here in the city... thanks so much, Elena!
On Sunday, we woke extremely late and proceeded to visit the Hermitage Museum, located within the Winter Palace. As students, we entered for free. It was a very good museum ; unfortunately, not many of its exhibits had English explainations or titles. One of the highlights of the museum for me was the huge Peacock clock. An elaborate gold structure of a tree branch with a peacock prominently perched on it along with other suitable botanial ornaments was apparently a clock! There was even a microphone to let everyone hear it ticking. I wasn't able to see it "in action", i.e. chiming the hour or anything like that, but it was still fascinating. After a few hours of wandering through the exhibit halls, we left just before it closed.
We met up with Elena again and she took us to her favorite student cafe, called Zoom Cafe. It was a low-ceilinged, well-appointed place that had an interesting menu, both in its presentation and its offerings. The cafe was well stocked with books and even delivered the bill within one! We said our farewells to Elena and returned to our hostel, but not before stopping by the supermarket to purchase our "St. Petersburg Farewell Dinner". We got some dumplings, crab sticks, eggs and some 'borrowed' vegetable stock from the hostel kitchen and boiled them together to create an interesting little soup that filled even the deep stomach of andrew. That was one filling meal. =)
Our final day in St. Petersburg arrived. We checked out of our hostel and stuffed our backpacks into lockers at the train station before heading over to The Cathedral of Spilled Blood. This cathedral houses a memorial to the spot where Peter the Great lay bleeding to death. It is beautifully and colourfully decorated outside by designs and coloured tiles, its golden domes catching the sunlight at the right angle. But within is hidden even more beauty. Every interior surface is covered with tile mosaics, forming images and stories from the Bible. The cathedral was recently restored after many years of misuse and disuse during the war and during the Soviet era. It has served as a vegetable warehouse and a large bomb had lain dormant in the central dome for several decades before restoration work discovered it. The intricate detail and planning exemplified by the tile mosaics was quite awe-inspiring.
After that, we waited an hour or more to buy our train tickets, with our poor ticket manager, Luke, suffering from the mysterious 10+ minute breaks that the ticket officers would take right as he reached the counter. We proceeded to the train station and boarded our train, #802. One week after departing from the US, we took our first 3 hour train ride to our next stop : Velikiy Novgorod.
-ky
Finally, after our successful border crossing, we entered our 'primary' destination : Russia. Our first port-of-call is St. Petersburg. Founded by Peter the Great three hundred and four years and one week ago to be the new capital of Russia, St. Petersburg rose up from the marshes and quickly developed. The capital has been since moved back to Moscow, but St. Petersburg has continued to grow especially with additional attention as the hometown of President Putin.
The bus dropped us off on one of the long, wide streets, or "prospects". This particular one was Moscovsky Prospeckt, which was supposed to be near our hostel. Unfortunately, the prospeckt being a particularly long road, the Metro Tour hostel was actually a good way down. After digging around for a currency exchange open at 6am, dragging our backpacks into a small pharmacy for metro directions and some map reading, we rode the metro to Elecktrosila station.
Our hostel, the Metro-tour hostel was pleasant and clean enough. Our room wasn't quite ready and so we dropped our backpacks off and set off into the city. We didn't get too much done in the first day. We walked around the city center, admiring the beautiful cathedrals but not knowing their names or significance. We bought our train tickets (short line : long wait!) to our next destination, scoped out the central market which had a lot of fresh produce, went online at an internet cafe (48 rubles an hour), and discovered a large Carrefour-like supermarket near our hostel. We got a cheap dinner for ourselves there and went back to the hostel to eat our bread and canned fish before turning in early after an exhausting day.
The second day was rather more exciting. =) Once again waking up late, we then proceeded to rush to International Hostel to go on a 5 hour long walking tour of St. Petersburg. We managed to get ourselves lost several times on the way. Luke was constantly asking passers-by where the street was : unfortunately, there were three streets with the same name! We eventually found our way there in time and met our guide (Elena). After becoming 430 rubles lighter, we were off!
The tour was quite enjoyable and was better than I expected. We visited several spots throughout the city center, stopping every so often to allow our guide to give us a little information. Some notable spots included the office of the Temple Of Peace and Love or something like that, where Russia's greatest Beatles fan lives. On the walls of the courtyard outside his house were plaques of the faces of the four Beatles and a painting of a large yellow submarine. This fan intends to build a volcano-shaped Temple to the Beatles on the coast of Finland. Hmmm.
The tour also showed us several spots where local 'legends' had formed, such as a cat on a ledge, a bird on the side of a bridge and a large plaque that depicted a storm scene with a man trying to climb onto a boat. At all these spots, one was supposed to throw coins, or in the case of the man overboard, push him up, and - voíla! - your wish would be granted! Apparently these legends appear rapidly and frequently. Hmmm.
Other things we did on the tour included a revisiting of the central market, relaxing and chatting with other tour group members at a American Rock & Roll theme bar for lunch (hahaha!), learning a little about the history and significance of the Russian author Pushkin and, of course, walking. For four hours. Hmmm.
We then proceeded to the Nevsky Prospekt metro station to meet a contact that I found through the couchsurfing website (http://www.couchsurfing.com), a longtime resident and seasoned adventurer of St. Petersburg, Elena. After a rather awkward (on our side, anyway) initial greeting, we took a long walk in search of a cafe.
After some trouble, we managed to locate the particular cafe that was previously pointed out to us on the walking tour; apparently it was an 'underground' cafe. It turns out that the cafe was well above ground! It was located on a balcony halfway up one of the ubiquitous six story apartment buildings of St. Petersburg, right above the office of the Temple of Love etcetera etcetera. It was 'underground' because it used to serve the Russian cultural underground and still maintains the small, 'indie' feel. Enjoying a cool drink while chatting about our travels and St. Petersburg was excellent. We went around the table sharing about ourselves and Elena took her turn. She told us that she was a graduated a year ago and was working in a very new equity management industry in St. Petersburg, enjoyed meeting new friends from around the world, going to jazz clubs and 'roofing'. We looked quizzically at each other at the mention of this last hobby of hers. "Would you like to go and find a roof?", she said. Not knowing what we were getting ourselves into, we agreed. And thus we set out for Elena's 'favorite roof', our short rest at the cafe completely insufficient for the purpose of preparing us for what was coming up next.
Our quartet arrived at yet another old apartment building and Elena started to push at combination locks on entryways. We located one that surrendered to her gentle attacks, clambered up 6 storys of gloomy, urine-laced stairwell and were promptly met by an unyielding metal door and its friend, the unyielding metal lock. Sigh. Back down the stairs we went, and Elena quickly went in search for another entryway.
The next one was open as well and she told us to wait downstairs as she scouted ahead, or rather, above. The three of us shared increasingly questioning (and increasingly tired) glances as uncertainty about this whole affair mounted. A shout of "Come up!" from above startled us all, and since we were such obedient boys, we proceeded to do just that. A flight of stairs later, we faced an dark attic littered with construction debris, with a shaft of sunlight visible on the other end of the room. Manuvering across broken planks and bricks, we ducked through the little window into a new world that we will long remember : the world of roofing.
I emerged onto the roof of the building, six storys above the ground. Tin plates crackled beneath my feet as I balanced on the sloped roof. A very fragile, rusty looking, two-foot high railing lined the edge of the roof, the only safety measure against an accidental slip. Once I gathered the courage to tear my eyes away from my feet, I looked up and found that my breath had left me. For before me lay St. Petersburg in glory, as seen from a most unlikely vantage point : the roof of a dilapidated apartment building. The late afternoon sun cut across the sky, enveloping the city with a blanket of gold. Sharp, thin shadows hid the alleys in contrast with the brightly illuminated yet unseen rooftops of St. Petersburg. The city stretched out in all directions, the endless rows of apartments with antennas sprouting from their rooftops surrouding the domes of the cathedrals that brightly winked at us as Elena named them one by one. Elena grinned as the rest of us gaped. A quick briefing on roofing later (be careful!) we started moving across the roof. The apartment building was quite large but the roof was sloped and was built quite irregularly. This allowed us to move for quite a distance across the rooftop under Elena's guidance, avoiding cables and antennae while holding on to chimneys. Every step revealed more vantage points as I delighted in the amazing view and experience. We would stop and rest in the breeze while soaking in the view that surrounded us for a moment before continuing.
We spotted a group of people at the other end of the building and headed over to them "We can go down their exit!", exclaimed Elena). A few loose chimney bricks later, we met a group of youths dressed in the Goth style enjoying a bit of roofing as well. A quick exchange of Russian later, we dissapeared down another exit and emerged back at ground level once more.
Roofing in St. Petersburg was one of the most amazing experiences that I have ever had and even as I type this, I fondly recall the exhilaration I felt on that rooftop. Truly, it was an unexpected and completely "un-touristy" adventure. But the day was not done! More was yet to come.
We went off in search of Elena's favorite jazz club with as much haste as our tired legs could muster, for this club was purpoted to fill up by 8pm and the hour was quickly approaching. Unfortunately the club was quite far away, and as we approached the spot, Elena's friend contacted her on her mobile phone to inform her that there was no space left. Elena cheerfully shrugged and told us that she would take us to the "2nd favorite club", and brought us into a random sports bar for dinner.
The basement bar was filled with infantry gear and other war paraphernalia. Smoking men were watching a football (soccer) match between two Russian teams (the score was 3-0). We sat down in a corner and Elena gave our order to the proprietor, who appeared to be, interestingly enough, Chinese. Our meal was quite good and we started talking, through Elena, with the group sitting beside us. Before long, one of them decided that he would treat us all to a round of vodka in celebration of his football teams victory (the game ended 4-0). When the vodka shots arrived, I was quite astonished at the size of the shot glasses : they were at least 30% bigger than the ones I'd seen before and filled to the brim with pure Russian vodka. Some directions on Russian drinking were given : the vodka was traditionally chased with apple juice or beer (our host preferred beer...). Elena had began laughing and saying "You guys are crazy!" and I was beginning to have some doubts about my sanity as well. But, we couldn't very well offend our host's hospitality, could we? So, down the hatch!
It was definitely the smoothest vodka that I had taken and there was no burning sensation down the throat. The stories of the excellence of Russian vodka were unexaggerated. Luke was grinning happily. Our host, seeing how much we enjoyed the drinks, proceeded to call for another round. Oops. Elena said: "You guys are Really Crazy!". We survived the second round and our host's group and us left in search of a jazz club to relax in. Elena told us later that we had left quite an impression on the patrons of the bar. Thus was our first experience of the famed Russian hospitality.
Unfortunately the jazz club we went to was just finishing up its program and we bade farewell to our new friends, as much out of caution as weariness. Elena showed us back to our distant hostel and we rested there for a while. She wanted to take us to witness the raising of St. Petersburg's drawbridges under the white night, but we were tired as well as concerned about the hostel curfew and transportation after the Metro had closed. Elena had some words with the hostel receptionist who agreed to open the door for us after hours and told us to trust her for the rest. So, after a quick break, we set out once again at 11:45 pm.
We walked to a scenic spot along the river between two bridges and waited there for the bridges to rise. The sky was truly beautiful. It was glowing as if it were the last few minutes of sunset but the light was batrely changed even after half an hour. The horizon was lit with a brilliant orange light which faded to a pale blue above the treetops, silhouetting the cathedral domes across the river. There was a triple fountain on the river, lit by colourful lights and lasers, and the bridges were lined with white lights. There were even two small but excellent fireworks displays, probably to celebrate weddings. We waited there for a while, watching the tour boats on the river, laden with bridge watchers and admiring the breathtaking glow of St. Petersburg's white night. Soon, one of the bridges rose, and all the tour boats sailed up the river, herded along by a few police craft. It was quite amusing to see the hundred little boats sailing away in unison like a host of water skaters. Soon, a dark, unlit cargo ship came lumbering under the raised bridge after the tour boats had retreated. Elena told us that the cargo ship would be followed by many.
A rather high speed taxi ride later, we found ourselves back at hostel. The sky finally completely dark, we collapsed in our beds and remembered no more.
Our long day in St. Peterburg was truly enjoyable and we saw many things that we could never have otherwise have seen on the excellent walking tour. However, the greatest experiences of the day were discovered under the guidance of Elena. The adventure of roofing, enjoying Russian hospitality with a round (or two) of drinks, and sitting by the river under the glow of a St. Peterburg white night was amazing. We were very fortunate to have a friend like Elena here in the city... thanks so much, Elena!
On Sunday, we woke extremely late and proceeded to visit the Hermitage Museum, located within the Winter Palace. As students, we entered for free. It was a very good museum ; unfortunately, not many of its exhibits had English explainations or titles. One of the highlights of the museum for me was the huge Peacock clock. An elaborate gold structure of a tree branch with a peacock prominently perched on it along with other suitable botanial ornaments was apparently a clock! There was even a microphone to let everyone hear it ticking. I wasn't able to see it "in action", i.e. chiming the hour or anything like that, but it was still fascinating. After a few hours of wandering through the exhibit halls, we left just before it closed.
We met up with Elena again and she took us to her favorite student cafe, called Zoom Cafe. It was a low-ceilinged, well-appointed place that had an interesting menu, both in its presentation and its offerings. The cafe was well stocked with books and even delivered the bill within one! We said our farewells to Elena and returned to our hostel, but not before stopping by the supermarket to purchase our "St. Petersburg Farewell Dinner". We got some dumplings, crab sticks, eggs and some 'borrowed' vegetable stock from the hostel kitchen and boiled them together to create an interesting little soup that filled even the deep stomach of andrew. That was one filling meal. =)
Our final day in St. Petersburg arrived. We checked out of our hostel and stuffed our backpacks into lockers at the train station before heading over to The Cathedral of Spilled Blood. This cathedral houses a memorial to the spot where Peter the Great lay bleeding to death. It is beautifully and colourfully decorated outside by designs and coloured tiles, its golden domes catching the sunlight at the right angle. But within is hidden even more beauty. Every interior surface is covered with tile mosaics, forming images and stories from the Bible. The cathedral was recently restored after many years of misuse and disuse during the war and during the Soviet era. It has served as a vegetable warehouse and a large bomb had lain dormant in the central dome for several decades before restoration work discovered it. The intricate detail and planning exemplified by the tile mosaics was quite awe-inspiring.
After that, we waited an hour or more to buy our train tickets, with our poor ticket manager, Luke, suffering from the mysterious 10+ minute breaks that the ticket officers would take right as he reached the counter. We proceeded to the train station and boarded our train, #802. One week after departing from the US, we took our first 3 hour train ride to our next stop : Velikiy Novgorod.
-ky
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
happy man.
13 hours of sleep makes me a happy man.
on another note, I recall a conversation I had with a & k sometime ago. we were at a cafe, and I was just about to select a dish from a menu written ONLY in cyrillic.
me: I hope I make a good choice today. all the time, i've been making choices that turn out to be bad.
a & k: hahaha.
so let me try to recount the bad choices i've made during the trip so far.
we were at the central market in st petersburg and I saw the row of shops selling cheese - and there was this thick fat gob of yellow solid which looked like cheese, and more importantly, mozzerella cheese to me. so I bought half a thick fat gob and gleefully went back to the tour group to bite into my treasure. as my precious yellow pearl emerged from the clingy translucently white plastic bag, I noticed that the solid yielded easily to the touch and it seemed a little oily. was it butter? elena the tour guide, confirmed that it was butter. how was I to eat a gob of butter half the size of a fist?? shite. obviously, my year over experience in restaurants that stored mozzerella IN WATER did me no good. fool.
at a tepemok stand ( a fast food chain of bliny selling shops), my first buy of a bliny with the filling of ' cold boiled pork and horse radish' turned out to have a nice generous chunk of fat. wah lau.
I had some tea at a 'chic tea salon' ( quoted from lonely planet, or LP) that overlooked a 'quaint courtyard'. in my mind, the courtyard would be a rolling meadow, with butterflies and daisies abounding, and with little shrubs here and there where pretty birds make their nests. but this was in the city, thus I had to 'wake up my idea'. and looking at the cheapest drink, iced tea that cost 50 r, was not a choice, as they were out of it. thus I chose from the next gp of teas that ranged from 75 to 105 r. and I knew rooibos tea was kind of expensive, so I chose matte tea, which was the first in the list.( the price list for that gp started from 75 to 105 too). turned out drinking my tea was like drinking cigarettes, and my choice of tea was the most expensive of the gp. shite shite. always like that. I know that having expensive taste might be a good thing ( ahem, ahem) but to have a puffed up ego with a hole-ly pocket cannot beat the feeling of being full.
oh well, to learn is to live, eh?
-l
on another note, I recall a conversation I had with a & k sometime ago. we were at a cafe, and I was just about to select a dish from a menu written ONLY in cyrillic.
me: I hope I make a good choice today. all the time, i've been making choices that turn out to be bad.
a & k: hahaha.
so let me try to recount the bad choices i've made during the trip so far.
we were at the central market in st petersburg and I saw the row of shops selling cheese - and there was this thick fat gob of yellow solid which looked like cheese, and more importantly, mozzerella cheese to me. so I bought half a thick fat gob and gleefully went back to the tour group to bite into my treasure. as my precious yellow pearl emerged from the clingy translucently white plastic bag, I noticed that the solid yielded easily to the touch and it seemed a little oily. was it butter? elena the tour guide, confirmed that it was butter. how was I to eat a gob of butter half the size of a fist?? shite. obviously, my year over experience in restaurants that stored mozzerella IN WATER did me no good. fool.
at a tepemok stand ( a fast food chain of bliny selling shops), my first buy of a bliny with the filling of ' cold boiled pork and horse radish' turned out to have a nice generous chunk of fat. wah lau.
I had some tea at a 'chic tea salon' ( quoted from lonely planet, or LP) that overlooked a 'quaint courtyard'. in my mind, the courtyard would be a rolling meadow, with butterflies and daisies abounding, and with little shrubs here and there where pretty birds make their nests. but this was in the city, thus I had to 'wake up my idea'. and looking at the cheapest drink, iced tea that cost 50 r, was not a choice, as they were out of it. thus I chose from the next gp of teas that ranged from 75 to 105 r. and I knew rooibos tea was kind of expensive, so I chose matte tea, which was the first in the list.( the price list for that gp started from 75 to 105 too). turned out drinking my tea was like drinking cigarettes, and my choice of tea was the most expensive of the gp. shite shite. always like that. I know that having expensive taste might be a good thing ( ahem, ahem) but to have a puffed up ego with a hole-ly pocket cannot beat the feeling of being full.
oh well, to learn is to live, eh?
-l
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