Exit St. Petersburg
On My Way!!
My stay in St. Petersburg, meant to be a week at most and now apporaching its 15th day, is finally coming to an end. On May 21st at 3:00pm I will board a train heading for Warsaw, Poland. Tomorrow I begin my long journey south to Greece, momentarily stopping in Poland, Romania and Bulgaria. Those of you who read my itinerary should remember that my trip was to include a few days in Ukraine and Romania. Unfortunately I will not have time to visit these new places; still I may try for a day walking in Romania.
Where shall I live?
Last week I met this Swedish traveler in my Internet cafe. It was nice to have a conversation with an English speaker, and we spoke of getting coffee or beer sometime in the future. I stayed at my hotel for a week, worried that they might refuse my impending package if I did not live there. This Bed & Breakfast had already moved me to one of their other locations, and on Wednesday I was informed that I could not stay past Friday. I never made a reservation, as I lived day-to-day and didn't know when I might leave.
On Thursday afternoon I hung out with Nina drinking a beer and sharing stories. It turns out that Nina is staying in St. Petersburg for a month learning Russian. As a part of her program, she got a one bedroom apartment to live in for the duration. When we met she had just been here for a week, and was feeling a bit lost. At some point during the afternoon she learned about my hotel situation and offered that I may stay with her for a bit. I didn't know how to answer, nor did I know whether I would take her up on the offer; so I said thank you.
On Friday I packed my bags, and sent Nina an SMS. She said of course I could stay for a bit, and we arranged for her and I to move my bags to her flat. At about 7pm we moved my backpack and freshly laundered clothes to Novacherkasskaya. The couch folded flat into a bed, and we've been roomies ever since.
My Credit Card Fiasco
Of course you know that I had my credit cards, passport, and visa stolen on May 7. On Monday, May 18 my ATM/Check Card arrived in St. Petersburg. Oh how happy I was all day. I no longer felt like a homeless beggar. I promptly headed over to an ATM machine to verify that my financial life abroad was finally improved. That night (or at 5am to be accurate) I found out from my father received both my Citibank and Wells credit cards. I still had hope that I could wire myself money from them, giving me some additional financial options. I was mildly distressed when I found out, after trying to wire myself some cash, that Western Union will not allow you to wire money to yourself. No worries - I will try not to lose my newly acquired ATM card before getting home.
Train Ticket Anyone?
Nobody said getting out of this place was easy, did they? Once I had my financial life in order, I decided to get out of Dodge. On Monday I determined that I would leave on Friday, May 21st. This would give me enough time to get my exit visa and train ticket. Once I made the decision, I headed directly to the Moskovskiy Vogzal, which is the train station from which you would leave for Moscow. In every other city I have ever visited you can purchase train tickets at the train station. Too simple; I went to the ticket counter, where I had an emphatic conversation in broken Russian about my desire to go to Greece or Gretzya. It is one thing to hammer out a few Russian words, and quite another to understand the response. After some difficult stammernig and agitation, I figured out that I needed to go to some central train ticket agency in the center of town.
Kacca 58!!
OK. I found the ticket place readily. It's on Canal Gribeodov really close to the metro station. I wandered over there, and found a two story building with ticket window after ticket window inside. I saw a sign in Russian and English with the plain words: tickets, information, travel. Must be the place, huh? I walk directly to the the nearest window and asked for a ticket to Gretzya. I became a bit disheartened when my request was met my such a dumbfounded look. She promptly directed me to a window on the second floor - I just didn't catch which window. I hadn't yet figured it out yet, but every window has a number, and it seems that each window has a specific purpose.
As I wondered from one window to another, after having been told to go somewhere else again, I ran into a wonderful babushka (grandma) who took me by the arm, as they are known to do, and brought me to the correct window. She stood there for at least 20 minutes waiting for a transaction to finish ahead of me, and she then determined for a fact that I was in the right place. When it was my turn, she helped explain to the ticket person, wearing their characteristically perturbed unhelpful face, where I wanted to go.
One of the reasons I was having such a hard time is that Russian trains do not go to Greece. So every time I asked to go there, I was probably told this, but I had no idea. So the babushka told me that I could go to Berlin, to which I asked if I could go to Warsaw instead. Berlin is a bit out of the way for my trip south. I'm not entirely sure, but it seems I purchased a ticket to Warsaw, and hopefully it is a sleeper car.
Russian Visa Anyone?
I called the American Consulate on Monday at 2pm to let them know when I would be leaving Russia. You may remember that I hadn't gotten my exit visa, since I didn't know my departure date. Now that I had a firm date, I called and told them I would exit Russia on Friday. I was told to call on Wednesday to confirm the visa's availability. They wrote a diplomatic note to the Russian government on my behalf requesting a new visa to be issued ASAP. I called Wednesday and was told that the visa was ready, and that I may pick it up tomorrow.
Wednesday evening I went to Gribeodov, that underground club in an old Soviet bombshelter. Again the music was amazing and the crowd really fun. I drank vodka tonics, which cost about $2, and danced until 5am. In the beginning of the evening they played Russian pop music, which bored the locals as much as it bored me. Eventually they played everybody's favorites, and the floor filled up with a whirring croud of twenty-somethings.
The metro is closes at 12:30; the bridges are up after 1:30; so everybody is stuck there until 5am. I danced until my body no longer functioned. Afterwards I headed for Smiley Cafe, this 24 hour Kebab place nearby, and had a little something to eat while waiting for the metro to open. At 5:45 I caught a train home. Nina was a bit groggy when I rang the doorbell 3 times (our code), and I headed to the couch. 12:00pm would come pretty fast.
I was not ready at noon to get my visa, but I got out of bed anyway. I dressed and got myself together. The consulate gave me intersting instructions. It seems that I would pick up my visa at the international airport. The twist is that the Russian Foreign Affairs office is behind security at the airport; I was supposed to ask someone to take me back there. No worries.
So I headed off on the metro. I took a train west to Sadovaya, changed trains and rode south to Moskovskaya. After 1.5 hours riding, I exited the underground. Now I needed to catch bus 13 to the airport. Of course there are two 13s; one goes the right way and another that goes the other wrong way. After asking a someone in Russian, I divined that I needed to cross the street to catch the correct bus.
I got to the international airport. This was the same airport to which I arrived 2 years ago, and I found it completely different. The parking lot was paved; the wild weeds were replaced with grass, and the terminal had a real baggage conveyer belt. I was impressed.
Anyway, I entered through normal security and found an information window. The woman was behind glass so thick that I could not hear her. I had to hold my ear to the slot at the bottom, through which people generally slip documents or money. I asked where the foreign office was, and she looked a thoroughly confused. Then she directed me to a phone that I could not find. I'm finding that anything that says "Information" provides very little of it. I then went to the security screeners and asked where the office was. It was as if nobody ever came here to get a new visa before. I felt like the first person who ever asked for this office. After some deliberating and her expressing how much of a problem this was, the security screener took me by the arm and led me to the customs area. She disappeared behind a door and reemerged with a consular officer. With little more hassle I had my exit visa.
My Last Week Here
It has been quite a nice week here. The weather turned cold and rainy; so everday I put on my 4 layers of clothes and head out to one of my favorite coffee shops. The other day the normal rain was interrupted by hail. It fell so hard that I thought my little travel umbrella was going to collapse under the pressure. I was the only one in the street laughing with my whole body. The populace scattered toward any possible cover. My clothes were completely soaked, and I could not stop laughing. At some point a woman asked me if I could escort her to the next street with my portable ice shield. I complied, and laughingly walked her through the hailstorm.
Most every night Nina and I have dinner and a few beers. She really is delightful - we compare stories and backgrounds. We could very easily be great friends if we lived in the same city. I am stunned by her kindness and willingness to allow a nearly complete stranger live in her flat. The first day or so she seemed mildly apprehensive, but now it is as if we have lived together for years. I will miss her company whey I leave. After beer and dinner I normally head out to some bar or club, and she sometimes accompanies me . Normally we split up early, and I find her back at the apartment at 5am.
Off to Greece
As I said, I will be boarding a train tomorrow. I don't know what lies ahead, but I will try to fill you in as I go. This chapter is finally ending - hopefully I will hold onto my papers and money for a least a week more. Miss you all!!
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