Day 9 - Moscow & Home

Sunday, 11/30 -

I had to get moving if I wanted to visit the Martha & Mary Convent (Marfo-Mariinsky). This was firmly on my Moscow to do list. I visited the convent during Sunday service but not knowing the protocol of Russian Orthodoxy, hung back watching, not participating. The walk back was quicker (isn't always that way?) and I stopped to take more photos of Red Square. The streets were empty save for me and the stray dogs who seem to have the run of the city.

C, was up, having had a lay in and helped me to the metro station. Bless him. My suitcase weighed a ton. We saw each other off with a hug and a cheek kiss, setting off the turn style alarm. It wasn't until I got home that I realized I had some feelings for him, but then quickly brushed that idea off. I grabbed the airport express train at Pavlovskaya station, relaxed, and took in the Russian scenery.

Security at DME was insane. I chose this airport specifically because AA flies out of it and it's not all Soviet and crazy like at SVO. In addition to all the security questions and frisking they do when you arrive, you are also questioned and frisked when you reach your flight gate. Here, every single thing is taken out of your carry on, opened, and examined, even your shoes. I have never had that experience before at a flight gate. They also want to make sure that no one has approached you in the airport.

The flight was uneventful, and half empty. It was great to get a row all to myself and to sleep. Delays in Chicago and my 10PM arrival time in Newark turned into a 2AM arrival. There was no public transport so I had to wait over an hour in line at the taxi stand. Thankfully, I sat near two other people on the plane who lived in my neighborhood; we agreed to share a cab to cut costs. I didn't walk through my front door until 4AM.

Overall, my trip was fantastic. It was probably the best vacation I have ever taken to what is now my most favorite destination.

I learned a lot on this adventure and had to figure out many things and work with people who I felt were at times, against me. I met so many other travelers and learned so much about them and their reasons for being in the same place I happened to be. The exchange of information between us all is something I'll never forget. Just being told that I could buy my train ticket a short way away from the hostel instead of trekking down to the station saved me tons of time and allowed me to focus on the more important parts of the trip. Yes, I could've done without the blizzard in Tallinn, practically splitting my head open after falling on the ice in St Petersburg, or dealing with the frigid attitudes around Russia in general. But, everything happens for a reason, and I believe I gained something important out of the bad, along with the good.

If I hadn't been brave or adventurous, I would've blown my money on group tours and only seen things a short sighted package creator wanted me to see. I could've been safe and sound in a hired car, at a loss to my bank account, instead of learning the metro systems or flagging down a marshrutka and sitting next to real people. Throughout my travels, my moments of anxiety quickly calmed once I realized I was reaching my destinations, because in their own little way, Russians make sure you're going to be alright.

I walk away from this trip knowing that this was the one I learned the most from. Sure, I was brave to go it alone on the back roads of Taiwan. I know this. But Russia was different. No one smiles at strangers there. No one is eager to try out their English, or to accept that other people speak different languages. Unlike Taiwan, there is no shared understanding of differences. In Russia, it is what it is. So, when I go back, and I say that in the affirmative, I will be more prepared. Who knows, I might even show the locals a thing or two.

Day 8 - Moscow

Saturday, 11/29 -

Oddly enough, I slept pretty good on the train considering this was the one place I assumed I would get no shut eye. I had booked a 2nd class kupe and catching the train was easier than I imagined it would be. My roommate was an older woman who was deep in thought almost the entire trip writing. I had hoped it would only be the two of us. Then, a cute guy arrived, but the smell of vodka on his breath ruined all chances of my ever fantasizing about him again.

Both the man and woman pretty much ignored me, speaking only to one another, except for the man who asked where I was from. I replied, "United States", and he was confused. I told him, "New York City", and he said "Oh, America". Oh, and the man was super strong, hauling my suitcase up into the overhead space. With all the books I purchased at Dom Kingi, I'm surprised he didn't put his back out. Once in awhile, as they were talking amongst themselves, they would both glance at me. I'm sure, by the looks, they were talking about me. A lone American woman without much knowledge of the language must've been a curious sight to them.

We arrived at Moscow Station on time. Russian trains run timely to a fault. I had another experience with squat toilets in the station restroom, thinking I'd left that behind for good in Taiwan. As I was leaving, the most gut wrenching incident occurred - a kitten. Someone must have recently dumped a kitten in the station and it was left to defend itself. Russia has a huge stray problem and it wasn't unusual to see dogs and cats allover the place. However, seeing a kitten scared and crying was too much for me to take. I bought a chicken wing and placed it behind the timetable board where it was hiding out. Talk about your heartstrings being pulled.

Getting to the hostel was a chore, especially now that I had a suitcase that weighed a ton. I didn't read the directions properly and became lost once I got to the Kitai Gorad stop, which has several different exits. Eventually, I found the hostel and was met by silence. There was no reception person around. Instead, on the sofa lay many individuals sleeping, including what I was later to discover, the reception person. I was getting anxious, I had only one full day in Moscow and the clock was ticking. I met C, who had also just arrived from St. Petersburg, and he had also stayed in the same place I had, although we never crossed paths.

I searched for, and found, a clean towel taking it upon myself to take a shower and get ready - some of it in the middle of the reception room. Finally fed up, I called the customer service number on the wall and complained in such a snotty way. Then, several phones began ringing and the reception person was roused from her slumber. Acknowledging C and I, she told us flat out that check-in time was at 12 noon and we were to put our luggage in the hallway. C asked if I would mind a travel companion. I was hesitant at first considering he saw me at my bitchy worst, but I decided I could redeem myself and agreed. Besides, I met so many people, and didn't want to pass on another opportunity to get to know others.

Our first stop was Red Square, Lenin's mausoleum. The security for gaining access is a chore. Once you enter it's dark, and military personnel are lining the entire route around Lenin's body. There is no opportunity to stop, you must keep walking. You basically walk around Lenin. He's so weird looking and incredibly waxy. It's no surprise that there's a debate over whether that's really him in there.

One thing I noticed is that one hand is formed into a fist and the other is out casually. You can't see his legs and he's a bit propped up. C commented on all the marble inside the mausoleum but I couldn't take my eyes off Lenin for a moment, it was so eerie. You exit into the Kremlin Wall Necropolis which is a burial ground for past Soviet leaders and famous people. Later on, while we were waiting for photo ops outside the mausoleum, a woman took a photo of her dog after she had posed it outside, in front of Lenin's Mausoleum. I wished I had taken a picture of this, but missed it.

C and I went into the State Historical Museum realizing only afterwards that it wasn't the Armoury museum. In my confusion of the day, and lack of proper map, we didn't realize that the Kremlin entrance was something different entirely until a few minutes after it closed. I was upset but considering all we saw, it wasn't the worst thing in the world. St. Basil Cathedral held my interest more outside than inside. The amount of brides arriving to get their photos taken in front of everything in Red Square ran into double digits in the time we were there.

The walk to Christ the Savior Cathedral was freezing cold. Once there, we both got pushed around by a babushka, unhappy to see us wear gloves inside. She actually reached and yanked at them, indicating that they needed to come off...immediately. The rules for entering a Russian Orthodox church are: hats off for men, heads covered for women, and hands out of your pockets. Apparently, wearing gloves is disrespectful as well. All these rules!

We walked the famous Arbat Street from beginning to end where I broke down at Starbucks and bought a hot Tazo tea, welcoming capitalist American normalcy! We stopped in a few stores for souvenirs before moving on to tour the metro system a bit. The metro stations are amazing works of art. I couldn't remember at the time where I had read about the dog statue you're supposed to rub for good luck, but the stations we did see were all dazzling. We checked out a building of Stalinist architecture before grabbing a bite to eat.

It had been suggested to me previously that the food court in GUM was cheap and it was considering how expensive the city is. I finally indulged in Beef Stroganoff which tasted like it does back home, but at that moment felt oh so Russian.

It was a long day; by the end we felt it completely. I had to be up early the next morning if I wanted to have time to do a bit more and make my flight home.

Day 7 - St. Petersburg

Friday, 11/28 -

My last day in St. Petersburg and I had to make it over the the Peter and Paul Fortress. First, I walked around looking for the Museum of Political History which is housed in the former home of prima ballerina Mathilde Kschessinska. She happened to be Nicholas II's first love before moving on to two of his cousins. This house is also famous for being taken over by Lenin after he arrived in 1917 on a sealed train from Germany to Finland Station. Again, I didn't purchase the photo permit and frantically took photos when the room guardian wasn't watching me like a hawk. Those babushka's sure do take their jobs seriously. I managed a photo of Lenin's study before moving on to other sites. In the neighborhood, I stopped at the mosque, the memorial to the victims of Stalin's Gulag, and Petrovskaya quay to see Peter the Great's cabin. Then, it was time to move onto Peter and Paul Fortress.

It's a fortress alright. A huge one with tons of things inside, including a wonky statue of Peter the Great that's supposed to be a cast from a mask made of his real head placed onto a disproportionately sized body, making him look like something out of a Dr. Seuss book. I carried on to the Peter & Paul Cathedral which is the last resting place for the majority of the rulers of the Romanov dynasty. It was odd seeing the tombs of all those I had read about, especially the little kids. Seeing Nicholas' mother, Marie Feodorovna's tomb still dressed with flowers since she was reburied here from Denmark, two years ago, was nice, especially knowing that she would be happy to be resting next to her dear husband Sasha (Alexander III) again. It was what she had wished for in exile.

I then went to pay my respects at the room that held the last Tsar, his wife, their children, and the family's retainers, who were all massacred together that fateful night in Yekaterinburg. To tell you the truth, it was the oddest feeling in the world knowing how close in proximity I now was to them all.

The remains of both Alexei and (presumably) Maria were discovered last year. They will soon join their parents and siblings once DNA is confirmed by several different teams. Until that time comes, their epitaphs on the wall will remain incomplete.

I spent the remainder of my time walking around the fortress, taking in the views of the city. Once back in city center, after stopping to admire Smolny Cathedral, I purchased souvenirs at a place behind Church on Spilled Blood and pretty much got smothered by one of the vendors who was intent on me purchasing his entire inventory. It was okay considering I waited till the last minute to do my souvenir shopping and was momentarily defeated to see almost all of the stalls shuttered for the night. In hindsight, our exchange was hilarious. Afterwards, I stopped for a minute on the bridge nearby, pausing to take in all that was in front of me. Muttering sweet nothings and blowing silent kisses to the city, I swore on my life, like Marie Feodorovna, I would one day come back.

I said my goodbyes at the hostel and headed via metro to the train station, finally holding my own among the crowds with heavy luggage, for my overnight trip to Moscow.

Day 6 - St. Petersburg

Thursday, 11/27 -

Aside from the Hermitage, another must see spot is the town of Pushkin, or Tsarskoe Selo to us Romanov purists. Located about 15 miles outside of the city, this was clearly a day trip and I armed myself as much information as possible in the months and days prior to getting here. I also took the metro for the first time in order to get to Moscovskaya Ploshad to catch a minibus to the palaces.

On the metro, I realized I had lost the little key that locked my LeSportSac tote. I did this to thwart any potential pick pockets, but kept the key on it's chain around the zipper. For the two years I have had this bag, that key has stayed on it's chain attached to the zipper. Given my luck, it decides to fall off at the most inopportune time of my life. Once in Moscovskaya station, I approached a woman working a newspaper kiosk and made what might possibly be the international symbol for scissors with my hands. Showing her my locked bag, which looked as if the zipper was stuck shut, she passed me a dull pair of scissors and I stood there for what felt like an eternity, carefully cutting into my bag in order to gain access to my stuff. Exiting the metro, I passed someone who looked as if he had taken a bad fall. Blood was pouring from his forehead and people surrounded him to help. I remembered my fall on the unforgiving ice and said a silent prayer that he would be alright.

Passing the House of Soviets, I was highly amused by the huge statue of Lenin with Christmas trees on each side on him. He most certainly wouldn't have seen the irony. Chesme Church was nearby, so I decided to venture a little further to find it. It was worth the effort looking for it, and the church looks like a cute pink and white candy confection against the stark Soviet block housing back drop. Chesme Palace is across the street, but it too has zero luster.

Finding the correct minibus to Tsarskoe Selo was at first, a chore. Once I found it however, I was fine. Called marshrutka, minibuses are common in Russia and are run mostly by private individuals. They are quasi-official and very safe. You simply flag them like a taxi cab and hop on, paying once you reach your stop. Since they are minivans, if full, they won't pick you up. Thankfully, I didn't have this problem, but it was a bit lip biting considering it was my first time riding in one and not really knowing the protocol. I repeated "Pushkin" a few times for stops I wasn't sure of, and the driver realized he was dealing with a complete novice. So, when the van stopped in front of the Alexander Palace and I wanted to get off, there was a test of wills between us when he shook his head no and saying "Pushkin" (which he assumed I had wanted) wasn't here. I repeated over and over again "Alexander Palace" fervidly pointing towards the palace to give indication this was where I really wanted to be.

There is no greater moment, so far in my travels, than to have the Alexander Palace appear before me. This was the moment in all of the years I have studied this imperial dynasty that was meaningful to my hobby. It was snowing heavily, but that didn't deter me at all. Prior to entering the museum, I lingered around the grounds. This was both for photo ops and to calm myself down. The outside of the palace is a sad state of affairs; it's crumbling and in desperate need of repairs. Rumor has it the Bolsheviks and subsequent parties hated Nicholas II so much that they considered this palace, his favorite and last residence, to be of no use historically. Focusing on the Winter Palace, Peterhof, Pavlosk, and Catherine Palace seemed to be more to their concern.

The right wing of the palace is in shambles, but there is currently work going on to repair this side, although it looks like a rescue, not a revamp. Sad. The left wing, where the last Tsar and his family lived, is where the museum is located. After checking my belongings in the cloakroom (this is such a Russian thing, you must check your belongings everywhere you go!), and putting the protective booties over my boots, I entered and passed the point of no return. Because much of the contents of the palace were looted, sold off, or destroyed during the WWII German occupation, so much is gone. Instead, the museum has placed huge black and white photos on the wall to give the appearance of what the rooms once looked like. Much of Alexandra's room is gone, a few pieces remain. Nicholas' study is pretty much the only room whose contents are intact. Even more sad are some of the displays showing the children's toys and their clothing.

Walking around Alexander Park taking in as much as possible, I could see the Children's House, weather beaten and in need of a spruce up. It was built as a playhouse for past generations of imperial children. Since the park is free and open to the public, the solemness was broken up by children sledding and building snowmen just meters from the palace. The pigeons stop, several surrounding you at almost every step. I guess they are so used to tourists feeding them they've become spoiled and unafraid of humans. Frankly, it resembled a scene out of the movie The Birds!

Okay, I have a confession to make. I didn't tour the inside of the Catherine Palace. I know, hop on the cross and nail myself there. But, I really had no interest considering the preference to spend as much time as possible at the Alexander Palace. Instead, I walked the grounds around it, taking photos. If it had not got dark so early, I would have ventured inside for a tour. This time, I had bigger fish to fry. Oh well, another time. I did swing down past the Tepper De Ferguson house, which was the former home of Alexandra's friend Anna Vyrbrovna. Anna was the one who introduced Rasputin to the family. It was at her home that Rasputin and the imperial family paid many visits together. This was because the meetings wouldn't be recorded by court officials if he came to the palace. I also passed the statue of Pushkin for whom the town was renamed after.

My next stop was someplace not many venture out to, the abandoned train station of the last Tsar. It's out a ways on the other side of Pushkin, near the university. It sits there, abandoned and vandalized, now a place where teenagers go to party and create mischief. The smaller imperial crests are still up, the big one in front has been taken down, but you can still trace the image of the imperial eagle. The station is probably one of the few hold overs from Russian imperial times. It was getting too dark at this point and being female, foreign, and alone, I decided against going inside, even though one of the doors was propped open. Had I been with someone, or if it were daytime, I would have SO been inside that station. But, I guess I'll leave that excitement for another trip. On my way back into the town center, I visited the Feodorovskiy Cathedral, which was commissioned by Nicholas II and was the family's favorite church. A service was in session and I bought a small icon of the family in the store on the grounds. They've been canonized as saints, so you can supposedly pray to them.

I flagged a minibus back to St. Petersburg, happy about my day and all I had seen. Thanksgiving was that same day. I may have left the US, but the US never leaves me. So, I found a nice place to eat my harvest meal, at the Dicken's Pub on the Fontanka Canal, and tucked into a cottage pie.

Walking back to the hostel, I surveyed the city so far. Four days in and still loving everything I had seen. I stopped into the Dom Knigi bookstore, which occupies space in the Singer building, and bought books, post cards, and a calendar. I was done shopping for myself and called it a night.

Day 5 - St. Petersburg

Wednesday, 11/26 -

My day started with a bang, literally. Coming back from buying tickets for the overnight train to Moscow on Friday, I slipped and fell on the ice - hard. Seriously, I thought I had split my head open it was so bad. Thankfully, a passing man pulled me up. No words were exchanged. He just pulled me up and walked away. How Russian women do it, especially since they wear miniskirts in the freezing weather and spiked high heels, is beyond me. I think the spikes do double duty as ice picks in order to conquer the icy streets.

I had my first real intensely frustrating language barrier problem when the woman behind the counter did not understand my attempts to purchase a train ticket. Coming to the rescue was a stranger who spoke English and translated my request to the woman behind the ticket counter. Otherwise, I'm sure I would've probably been sent to someplace in Siberia. Still, I'm glad to have purchased my ticket in Russia and not in the US through a middle party, because it saved a lot of money.

I needed to get the Hermitage out of the way. If this didn't happen, there would definitely be regrets! Russia has a tier system in regards to admission prices. Foreigners are almost always required to pay more, often double, than Russians. If you can speak Russian, you're fine, otherwise, you have to pay up. Because I'm currently a student, admission was free. I did however, purchase the photography pass. This, I regretted because it wasn't needed. Personal photography here seems to be a free for all, pass be damned.

I'm not going to go into the history of the Hermitage, but it's a definite can't miss for anyone who travels to St. Petersburg. It's extensive and what you see doesn't touch the surface of all the art they have inventory of. The rooms are as sumptuous as the art on display. In fact, some rooms are works of art themselves. After getting my bearings and oohing and ahhing at the Jordan Staircase, I headed first to the Russian section only to be disappointed that most of it was closed for the season. Shit. I did get to see the famous Malachite Room though. I spent most of the day making my way around most of the museum before calling it a day. I was bummed not to see any of the famous cats who roam the place. The cats are so famous, they have their own press secretary!

The remainder of the day was spent again, walking the city streets, popping into shops, and allowing myself to get semi-lost in the maze of canals and side streets that continued to offer visual treats.

I love this city. Sore head and all. I really do.

Day 4 - St. Petersburg

Tuesday, 11/25 -

The day was planned primarily to see some imperial spots and some palaces that weren't open to the public. I figured for the purposes of my mind racing with all of the smaller visual treats I wanted to see, I should get this out of the way. Plus, it made for a perfect way to get my bearings around this beautiful city.

I began on Millionaya Ulitsa (Millionaire's Street), aptly named for the once grand homes that still line the street today, but without the splendor of the past. One thing I could not shake my entire visit here was seeing palaces and sumptuous homes whose rooms had been turned into apartments for the working classes after the Revolution. Curiously, I also wondered about the fate of the previous owners who either fled the country once Lenin took power or stayed and risked imminent death. I walked along the street aside the complex which made up the Hermitage, making sure
not to break my neck on the icy streets. In Russia, they don't shovel the sidewalks, so you are left to fend for yourself.

Walking around the Winter Palace area, I walked up the Admiralty until I reached the Bronze Horseman. It wasn't as awe inspiring as you see it in photos, more like, "meh", but I went ahead and snapped a photo anyway. Afterwards, I stopped into St. Isaac's Cathedral. I paid the admission with a 1,000 ruble bill and winced as the woman snatched it away and began gesticulating wildly behind the glass. I couldn't hear her cursing me out for giving her such a large bill, which was just as well. St. Isaac's is not as heart stopping as Church on Spilled Blood, but gorgeous nonetheless. I didn't know it until later, but I was somehow corralled into a Russian speaking tour group. Thinking this was the only way to see the inside (there are some places that require you to have a guide), I complied and remained silent, not giving away the fact I wasn't fluent in Russian.

It wasn't until the group passed an English speaking couple that I realized had I murmured something, anything, in English to the woman at the entrance, I could've gone it alone, that a group wasn't a requisite. By then, I was too far into the group experience to excuse myself without embarrassment, especially since I often nodded my head for effect. Besides, the funny thing is that there are no signs in English explaining anything, and through the guide's hand gestures, and a few English words adopted into the Russian language, I actually figured out some of the things she was talking about. Also, being in a group allowed me to take photos without buying the additional photography pass that many Russian museums require you to buy in order to snap photos. My biggest fear was that the guide would stop and ask us direct questions.

Afterwards, I ventured over the Moika Embankment, still enjoying the multitude of pastel painted Italianate grand homes, and visited the Yusupov Palace. I tried to get into the Rasputin group without success. This is probably one of the only museums where you would need to hire a guide in order to see a certain part of a museum. Only those who speak Russian are allowed to venture into the basement for this special once a day tour where the murder of Rasputin took place. I couldn't fool the woman in the ticket booth and the sign specifically forbids any non-Russian speakers from taking the tour without a guide, even for a look at the room. I decided not to push it and went with the regular house tour. I didn't buy a photography pass and got caught out by one of the many room guards you see. I did manage to snap a few quick panicked shots in places where the guards weren't around, but my racing heart kept this to a minimum.

The sun was shining, a rare treat in November here, so I ran back to St. Isaac's to use the other portion of my ticket, the outside observatory, hoping to catch a sunny vista. St. Petersburg isn't known for its skyline views so this was a bit of a disappointment. I ran back over and finished my self tour of the Moika embankment, stopping in front of Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna's former home. In their haste to erase the memory of all of royalty, the Bolsheviks must have forgotten that her gates still have her initials on them. I walked past the home of Grand Duke Alexei Alexandrovich, the favorite uncle of the last Tsar and namesake of Nicholas' doomed son. Grand Duke Alexei was also the inspiration for the New Orlean's Mardi Gras Rex Parade, and it's official colors, which honor the colors of the Russian flag. His time in the US was legendary, if much forgotten. The home was recently purchased by someone who is lovingly restoring this gorgeous palace back to its original state. I only hope the interior can match the splendor it once was.

By this time, it was getting dark and taking a wrong turn ended me up on a street off of Dekabristov Ulitsa. I stumbled upon an old school store where you have to ask for everything behind the counter. This is where I purchased my vodka because it was much cheaper than the neighborhood I was staying in. What was odd was seeing the illegal vodka (a huge market here) right there in jam jars for sale among the prestigious brands, but of course, on the bottom shelves.

I purchased some bananas (pronounced "bananas", thankfully!) and the woman behind the counter was excited to speak English with me, as little as she could speak, and she smiled upon learning I was from NYC. People don't smile here, so it was strange to see someone so gregarious towards me. In fact, I read that in Russia, smiling at strangers is considered to be a sign of mental illness. Since I was totally enjoying my trip and happy about everything in my pathway, I must've looked liked I escaped from Bedlam.

All that getting lost got me hungry, so once I got myself back on track and onto the Moika, I stopped into the Café Idiot for some pelemi covered in sour cream (smentana). They give you a shot of vodka once you sit down. A great way to end the day's travels.

Day 3 - St. Petersburg

Monday, 11/24 -

The bus pulled into Baltic Station and I adjusted my watch an additional hour ahead. Just before we got off, I was witness to a horrible act. There were tons of mothers with young children on my bus. In waking them to get off, one little girl gave that whiny little cry that kids do when they are woken up out of the blue. Poor lamb; she had my sympathy. If adults hate this, kids must hate it more. While she was fidgeting and crabbily murmuring her disappointment, the mother hauled off and slapped her open handed across the face! The speed was like an open handed punch. All without saying a word, and silently carrying on like she had not just beat her kid.

We arrived about 45 minutes later than expected and this screwed me over because I had ordered a car transfer to my hotel. I guess they wouldn't wait or I couldn't find them, but I ended up resorting to what I dreaded - taking a taxi cab. Taking a cab in Russia is a true rip-off experience for tourists. It's what I wanted to avoid and what ended up being my only recourse. I could've taken the metro, but it was rush hour and the Russians are unforgiving during this time. I, with my large suitcase and carry on, would be no match - yet.

Finding an ATM was easy, thankfully, I could do the transaction in English, my saving grace. It wasn't until afterwards that I discovered I should've requested the smaller bills option the ATM ("bank-o-mat") offered, which had perplexed me. My first lesson. Hardly anyone takes anything over 500 rubles here! I completed another transaction getting smaller bills, which enabled me to show my face again to the woman running the little store who had previously refused my request to pay for a beverage with a large bill. Trudging through snow and passing the rush hour crowd and stray dogs, I reluctantly approached the taxi stand. The cab twisted and turned through the dark city streets. A flash of green appeared before me and I realized we were passing the Winter Palace. My face to the window, I savored that view for as long as I could until it disappeared when the driver turned a corner.

After finding and settling into the hostel, I had breakfast at the Nevsky Grand and headed out to explore. I had been in a tizzy over my bad start and really needed to begin my love affair with the city. My first stop was Church on Spilled Blood, which was only a few blocks from where I stayed. Coming up on the church, at first, I could only see people snapping photos. I knew what they were taking pictures of and so braced myself. Taking in a low voice, I said "brace yourself, brace yourself, steady…", rounded the corner and semi-burst into tears. I was finally here, finally in St. Petersburg, and the emotions just hit me right there and then. The church was even more breath taking inside and I merrily snapped away at everything I could, knowing that the richly colored images would not produce a bad photo, but they could never quite express the actual feeling of being there.

Next, was a walk up Nevsky Prospect, snapping away at anything that caught my eye - a statue of Catherine the Great, a McDonald's sign in Cyrillic, the Anichkov Palace, and the Beloselsky-Belozersky Palace. This palace was historically special to me because it once belonged to Grand Duchess Ella, Empress Alexandra's sister. It's also architecturally stunning. I stopped into a cafe to order hot chocolate with somewhat passable Russian. I was second guessing myself on the translation, but the word chocolate is the same in Russian as it is in English, so I had that working in my favor.

My last stop for the day would be at the Mikhailovsky Palace, a branch of the Russian Museum. It was my first entrance into a former palace. The rooms are works of art themselves here and when I was finished looking at the artifacts, stared in amazement at the architecture surrounding me.

Since I traveled in the month of November, darkness arrived much earlier. I headed back and met my fellow hostel mates. They were all from England and Ireland, and we hung around chatting about the city, learning a thing or two from one another. I learned that through the back courtyard, the hostel was literally just steps from the Winter Palace/Hermitage, and where to purchase a train ticket to Moscow nearby without wasting time going several miles away to the actual train station. I decided to head out once again to take some night photos before coming back and calling it a night.

Day 2 - Tallinn

Sunday, 11/23 -

I don't know. If I had a crystal ball, I might not have included Tallinn if there was any prior knowledge of what would be in store for me. The second day of my trip was mostly a dud due to the severe icy blizzard that pounded the city for the entire day. I can handle snow but not wind slamming into me at who knows how many miles-a-minute. At times, I had to brace myself against the wind so that it didn't pick me up and carry me off someplace.

When I wasn't freezing to death, I was trying to take some photos that didn't come out blurry due to icy snow pelting the camera lens. The added bonus of souvenir shopping and visiting museums was that I could also use it as an opportunity to fight hypothermia from setting in. I did manage to visit the Museum of Occupation which documents Estonia's occupation by the former Soviet Union. Most things were closed due the the inclement weather, but I did get to step inside the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral for a look around.

How I longed to be back in that sauna, warm and without a care in the world!

At dusk, I lazed around in a café for a bit, drinking hot chocolate before searching for St. Catherine Passage. I stepped inside a souvenir shop to be met by a woman who had the most unfortunate job of dressing like an Estonian peasant girl in order to look some part. I saw this at Olde Hansa as well. How demeaning! I never understood the jobs with the period dress requirement. After leaving the cafe and bundling up, my bra came undone after leaving and it was proving unbearable by now. So, since there was no one in the store or around, I explained the situation and asked if I could use the restroom to fix my problem. The woman replied that she did not have a public restroom but I was free to fix my bra right there as there was no one in sight.

There I was, arms reaching behind me, up the back of my sweater to re-hook my bra, all while apologizing over and over. Peasant girl assured me that it has happened to her and that she completely understood. I then pictured her in serf dress addressing a modern undergarment problem and had to refrain from laughing. Thankfully, I bought something or else that would have been even more embarrassing to walk out empty handed after displaying such a personal problem.

After eating a large dinner in the town square, I had no recourse but to go back to the hotel. I'm happy to have picked this hotel because they were very accommodating considering I had already checked out that morning. The front desk arranged a cab to the bus station and told me to sit by the fireplace and warm up. What I did see of the city was nothing but beauty. It reminded me much of Bruges, medieval and frozen in time. I came to love what I could experience and hope to go back and tour Estonia as a whole.

If there was one interesting thing I got out of Estonia it was the experience of going through both Estonian and Russian immigration at the borders of Narva and Ivangorod.

The bus ride through Estonia to St. Petersburg was slow going due to the bad weather. There are no street lights on the highway; you can only really see what is illuminated by the headlights on the bus. I could make out that this route passed mostly through countryside with a few farms popping up every so often. Once we pulled into Narva, Estonia, there was a considerable wait while immigration officials got on the bus, took all of our passports, and went back to the office to process all of our information and search the bus. This lasted about an hour until the official got back on the bus and handed our passports back to us. The bus drove through a security zone for about a quarter mile until it reached Ivangorod, Russia. Then, the fun began!

While it was a harmless procedure, immigration in Ivangorod, for an American, was quite fearful. I think more so for me considering I knew absolutely no Russian and my first impressions were so...Soviet. There were two other Americans on the bus and we all just followed the other passenger's queues on what to do. That included getting our coats on, taking all of our belongings off the bus, and heading into a classic Soviet style building to go through Russian immigration. First off, I have never seen so much green in my lifetime, different shades of the color too. Green building, green walls, green trim, and green passport control booths. The only other color was red as in red line for declaring customs, red for stop don't do this or don't do that. Otherwise, if you had nothing to declare, you went through, you guessed it, the green line.

There was a long wait, and I decided to use the filthy restroom while I could as there was no bathroom on the bus. Processing was easy and the immigration officials were gruff but nice. My passport was stamped, the suitcase put through the x-ray machine, and I was done and processed. There was a point where I wanted to take a picture, on the sly of course, of the outside of the immigration center. I decided against it. Maybe that was a good idea.

The bus passed through several more security checkpoints before moving on towards St. Petersburg. I couldn't believe I was finally in Russia!

Day 1 - Helsinki

Once again, as with the Taiwan trip, I had wonky access to a computer.

Saturday, 11/22-

The flight to Helsinki went smoothly with one little snafu - a very large man sat next to me and half of his body spilled over into my seat. At one point, I even used his crooked arm as a book rest while he slept. Otherwise, it was your typical economy class filled to the brim overseas flight.

We landed in Helsinki a little earlier than expected, which was great considering I was to have such a short stay and so welcomed the extra time. I left my carry on bag in the left luggage room, bought an all day tourist bus pass, and headed into the city for the day. Helsinki is a very easy city to manage and most everyone speaks English. In the short time there, I walked around or took the #3 tram. My first stop was in Senate Square and a visit to Tuomiokirkko, Helsinki's most famous Lutheran church.

Next, it was onto Uspenski Cathedral and Market Square, both in the same area. I thought the market a bit blah and too touristy, but what did I expect considering it was in a touristy area. I finally got to sample cloud berries, which are native to Finland and were a bit too tart for my tastes. There was also a bread and pastry stall that had some delicious samples. I wanted to buy some rahkapulla, which is like a cream cheese pastry, but Scandinavian countries are so expensive and how would I cart that around without devouring it all in one sitting?

After eating lunch, I tried to find the Sibelius Monument, but lost my bearings and veered east over near the opera house. A kind gentleman informed me of this when I stopped him on the street.

Temppeliaukion kirkko, or the rock church, was cool, and a christening was taking place, so we were held outside until it ended. Thankfully, I hugged the entrance so once the doors opened, I could make sure to take a photo of the church empty before it crowded with others.

Overall, Helsinki was a great town, but I wouldn't come here for an exclusive visit, unless it was part of a much more extensive trip to the country of Finland. The people are super friendly, and saying "kiitos" (thanks) gets automatic smiles.

I gave myself a lot of time to get back to the airport to make my flight to Tallinn, Estonia. Upset at missing out on the chance to shop at Hemtex, which I discovered in Denmark, I really could've gone back a little later, but due to personal experience, have major fears of missing my flights. I ended up sleeping the entire journey over, waking up a few minutes before we landed.

Once in Tallinn, I grabbed a taxi to my hotel, which was in the medieval Old Town section of the city. Estonia has the unfortunate history of being occupied not once, but twice by Russia. Only in the last twenty years has she been a free country and the relationship with Russia is a contentious one. Ethnic Russians make up 40% of the population, much to the chagrin of the native Estonians who are bitter towards their former occupiers. Being curious, in the cab on the way to the hotel, I asked the driver what his ethnicity was. He replied he was Russian and that Estonia was the true Russia. Okay. That would be my politics for the night.

I arrived at the Merchant House Hotel, which ended up being fantastic in every way possible. Just steps to the town square (Raekoja plats), the hotel is housed in a medieval building. My room had exposed wood beams and original stonework. I took advantage of the private sauna and it was pure bliss! My skin was smooth as a baby's bottom and my mind cleared of any stress. I also conked out on the bed wearing just the robe I returned to my room in!