Saturday, September 27, 2008

There and Back Again

For those of you keeping track of me: like all good hobbits I made it back home.

I thought I wasn't going to make it out of St. Petersburg. After my limited success navigating the public transportation system of St. Petersburg, I decided to give it one last whirl and use it to get to the airport. So, after a disheartening beginning involving some tough going--lugging my baggage down Nevsky Prospekt wasn't easy with all my souveniers--and slow service from a local cafe (I really didn't want the coffee, just the change for my 50 Ruble note--which they didn't even have. I had to buy gum from a convenience store and then rush back to the cafe to pay them with the change), I did successfully manage to take the Metro (from the Maykovskaya to Teckhnologichesky Institut to Moskovskaya stop) where Bus #13 stops for the airport. From there it got a bit dicey. Especially since, yet again, I got shooed off a bus.

Above ground from the Moskovskaya stop, there are a LOT of bus stops. I found one with the magic #13 listed. And I waited. And waited. A few buses stopped and--having learned my lesson from my first attempt at boarding a bus in St. Petersburg--I let them pass on by because none were labeled 13. After 15 minutes or so had passed, victory!, a #13 bus stopped. As I climbed the steps, I asked the bus driver in my best Russian "Pulkovo Dva?" And, as my luck would have it, she said "Nyet" and like all the bus drivers before her, she Nyet-ed and waved me off the steps of the bus.

Crestfallen, again, I summoned up the nerve to ask a young woman also waiting at the stop about the bus #13 stop. We had made eye contact earlier and she saw me get kicked off this bus, so I figured this witness to my despair just might be sympathetic to my plight and help me out. Unfortunately, contrary to what the guidebooks say, and if my experience is any indication, many of the young folks in St. Petersburg cannot speak English. But, after the usual pantomime and struggle for a common vocabulary, I finally understood some valuable information from this young lady. From what I could gather, the bus stop was across the street, where she had pointed, AND near a "Mickdoonills." After I had pointed across the street and reiterated the name a few times, I was certain my passage out of this place was near what probably amounts to the most iconic representation of American capitalism and culture. So bless that girl's heart and--I can't believe I'm writing this on this blog--thank God for McDonald's, otherwise I might be wandering the streets of St. Petersburg at this very moment. That or I'd be 100 bucks in the hole for a cab to the airport. Surely, either of those two things.

It was a long hike to the bus, but I made it. I'm sure the bus driver overcharged me; it should've been no more than 22 Rubles, still less than a dollar, but I probably paid close to 40 Rubles. I really didn't care. Afterwards, I wandered into the arrivals area (instead of departures) but after finding yet another kind person, I made it to the right building and eventually got on the plane. There were more adventures at the ticket counter and my two separate waits on line for passport control, but I won't go into any further details. The plane was delayed, and after I got into Heathrow the metal detector broke down, and I nearly lost my eyeglasses at security. So, making my connecting flight didn't look good. But, at the end of the day, nothing horrible really happened and I landed in Manchester later that evening and successfully boarded a train to Manchester Piccadilly station and walked the 5 or 6 (long) blocks to my hotel on Princess Street.

I spent the week in Manchester, healed my toes and feet, and went to London with "Bob." I truly loved Manchester (especially the ability to get lost and find my way around without panicking too much). With its brick buildings, manufacturing past, and rainy days, it really is my kind of town. A walk along the canal was really a highlight for me (along with coronation chicken and tons of Minstrel chocolate candies). London was gorgeous, I learned that the 99 Flake must be the creamiest and most delicious ice cream cone anywhere, and I had my first pint of Guinness (I'm hooked) at Black Friar pub, following a play (Timon of Athens) at the Globe Theatre and an evening at the Tate Modern.

When we got back on Sunday, September 21, I was grateful to be home. No tomatoes survived the great squirrel raids of the past two weeks, but both the cat and gecko were alive and all the comforts of home cannot be beat.

This week resumes the CSA and cooking reports. Thank goodness for that. I don't think I touched many vegetables in Russia. The water there is highly chlorinated because of loads of bacteria and it also contains heavy metals, so I really didn't feel like having any salad rinsed in that kind of water. In England, I ate my way through fatty comfort foods and chocolate.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Finally! The Hermitage and the Skirt

I found both the Hermitage and the skirt today. I tried on the skirt. I like it but it is pricey and I've been spending rubles like a drunken sailor. I might zip down their tomorrow and buy it, but I'm still debating it. My flight leaves at 5 pm. So I should be there by 3 pm. I still haven't decided whether or not I'll take a cab or public transportation (Metro to Bus #13!).

As if to even things out, along with finding two things, I lost two others: my ticket stub to the Hermitage disappeared within 15 minutes of entering the exhibit area. I have no idea what I did with it. I always save my ticket stubs to museums (and this one was particularly nice looking from what I remember). It kind of bummed me out throughout the museum but the third floor filled with Renoir, Cezanne, Daubigny, Matisse, Van Gogh, Picasso, Rousseau (Henri and Theodore), and other amazing artists cheered me up imensely. There's the very interesting "Death after the Masked Ball" (by Gerome Jean-Leon), and for the first time I also truly appreciated what an amazing portraitist Renoir is/was.

The other thing I lost was a notebook. It had some travel plans and my expenses written down. Of course, I had to recalculate my expenses, but the weird thing is that I have 250 py (rubles) more than I expected. I don't know if I short changed someone some cash or if I just don't know how to add and subtract. Of course, I'm worried that I actually took out more money than I remember and I'm actually missing rubles! I'm also missing the mini Crunchie bar that I got on the flight here and a small pack of tissues. The Gremlins are really after me this week!
Close to the Hermitage is the unappealingly named Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood. Gorgeous church, just stunning. No time to go inside though!

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Pretty Ugly

I know why so many St. Petersburg natives smoke: they’re going to die of lung cancer anyway from all the exhaust fumes. Russia has to do something about its emissions policies. They're a health issue for humans and the city itself. Though St. Petersburg is beautiful, it's also grimy and ugly. That holds true of individual buildings as well. They’re beautiful but dirty or broken down. In today's post I've included some photos of the street my hotel is on. If you click on the pictures to enlarge them, you’ll see why I was bit concerned that first night. The architecture is lovely, but if you look closely, many building have glass missing from their windows or peeling paint, or worse. The last picture is my hotel. Although it has rained almost everyday here, today it was nice and bright, a beautiful breezy fall day. I think that's shown in these pictures.

Speaking of beauty: The women here really like to dress up. But sateen pants before 5 pm? What are they thinking?! My editor (he's here for the conference too) noticed something else that I've been able to corroborate on my own. If two girls are walking together, usually one has on high heels and the other flats, with the be-heeled one leaning against the flat-footed one. I guess they take turns every other day or week.

You know, I haven't seen that skirt again. I wasn't exactly sure where it was. But I know what street it's on and I've been up and down it several times in the past few days. I would've looked harder for it today, but my feet are killing me! I got caught in a downpour last night, my shoes got soaked, and that just completely ruined any chance I had of my blisters getting better. So I had to hobble along the street to my hotel. And I spilled my cappuccino all over the table at the cafe where I had lunch/dinner. Figures. Even in Russia, I spill my coffee.

Adding insult to injury, this café didn’t take credit cards, even though the menu said they took international credit cards. I thought MasterCard was included in that group. Luckily I still had some rubles on me.

Hardly any place takes credit cards around here! I thought I'd have enough cash to last me until I left the country (using the corporate card for most meals), but that hasn't been the case. So, even though I'm nearly lame, I had to go in search of an ATM, because I still have to eat for the next two days.

Luckily I remembered seeing CitiBank locations when I first arrived. But, of course, I was pretty disoriented then and I couldn't recall exactly where I'd seen the bank. I took an educated guess and after about a mile of walking, I found a CitiBank on Ligovsky Prospekt. I still can't find any grocery/convenience stores though. Maybe they're what Ipresume to be liquor stores. I'm not altogether brave enough to wander into a store if I don't know what’s being sold inside.

I didn’t get to the Hermitage today but I did a little shopping. I bought a beautiful amber necklace. It wasn't a steal, but I love it. It was way too expensive, but it was only one of two or three that I really liked. I tried on dozens of necklaces. Even the guy that rang up my purchase remarked about me taking a long time to decide. He wasn't being snide though. He said something along the lines of "Well, these things take time; that's what we're here for." There was an amazing chunky deep yellow royal amber bracelet, but it was crazy expensive: about $1,500. Maybe next time I'm in Petersburg (ha!).

I also bought some matryoshka dolls, which I've wanted ever since I was a little girl. They sell them everywhere. Unfortunately, the young guy that was waiting on me had a hard time opening one of the dolls. While I wasn’t looking, he tried opening it up with a pair of scissors and wound up opening up a finger instead. It eventually stopped bleeding. I bought the doll, and not entirely out of pity. It's quite pretty.

A note on my limited photography skills: All over St. Petersburg there are stunning monuments and beautiful landmarks. But, somehow, I seem to be the only person taking pictures. I thought there’d be more tourists. Most of the pictures I’ve been taking, I’ve been “sneaking” them (i.e., taking them as quickly as possible) because I feel as if I’m not allowed to take pictures. PLUS, there’s not much memory on my camera's memory card so I can’t take lots of pictures and just sort through them later. So if you think the picture quality leave something to be desired, it's because they're taken under duress.

The Palace Pictures, Part II: Inside

Here's a few pictures of the inside of the old palace/House of Scientists. Many of the rooms have different themes: the Oak Room (pictured to the left), the White Room, etc. The one unifying theme: dust and must.


The top of the second floor where the conference sessions were held is a grand space. The stairs lead down to a first landing and then from there it continues down to the main staircase and entrance. For the first few days, I hadn't realized that there was a second floor greenhouse (as seen through a window in the hall outside the White Room)! I don't know how to access it as there was no door to it that I could see.



The hall outside of the White Room (the room is right through those arches), where many of the symposia took place.




Bonus picture: The Bronze Horseman. This is the statue of Peter the Great that saved my hide on Monday when I got lost walking back from the conference. I passed by the statue, knew it was famous, and found it in my guidebooks and map. After that, I was able to orient myself. Thanks Peter!





The Palace Pictures, Part I: Pre-Palace

I made sure I took a few pictures of the House of Scientists and its immediate vicinity. The former palace is on the Dvortsovaya emb. and the street behind it is Millionnaya Ul. It's pretty much right around the corner from the Winter Palace (which houses, in part, the Hermitage museum) and Palace Square. Because the conference hosts are renting it out, we can take pictures of it for "free." Normally, visitors to the palace, must pay to take photos. If I had to pay for photos, there wouldn't be any. So, enjoy!

Since I can only upload about five pictures per post, this will be in two parts. The streets around the palace and then some interior shots.
The Winter Palace and/or the Hermitage is/are pictured here (I'm not sure which is which). Lots of buildings in Russia are covered with this green netting and undergoing facelifts. Many, many more are in need of the same treatment. The cat licking itself is one of several that make this area their home.

Millionnaya Ul. is home to Nicholas I's New Hermitage (a bunch of Atlases hold up the front portico). Further down the street is one of the many canals cutting through the city (pictured at the top of the post).




Tuesday, September 9, 2008

...And Then She Pushed Me!

Yup, one of those young, overdressed, St. Petersburg women actually pushed me into the metro this morning. Apparently I wasn't going fast enough for her. I could feel her hands pushing into my back. My first instinct was to turn around and say something along the lines of "What the F&*^ do you think you're F&#^ing doing, b!$tch?" that or deck her, but then I realized, either action in a very packed St. Petersburg subway would likely get me pummelled by a lot of the other passengers (I don't think speaking English would help me make my case against the pushy chick), either that or I'd be hauled off to some Siberian gulag. Besides, they are pretty aggressive on that subway, so full-contact-subway riding may, in fact, be culturally accepted there. [Pictured to the left on Nevsky Pr. is the Kazan Cathedral, this is probably the worst picture of it taken, ever; to the right is the Singer Building (of sewing machine fame), we have/had one in Newark, N.J., though I don't remember it being this ornate.)]

So, in the dual interests of self preservation and revenge, I did the only thing I could do: passive-aggressively push back into her and try and nail her with my totebag (which usually feels like I'm hauling a cinder block in there). I felt much better.

I had a workshop at the conference today, which went quite well.

Yesterday, I got lost on the walk on the way home from the House of Scientists (formerly the Palace of the Grand Prince Vladimir Romanov) along Dvortsovaya emb. (pictured to the left). Earlier in the day, another conference attendee and myself had walked there together (and had gotten a little lost along the way...the usual story, we made a left when we should've made a right). So, on the way back, I succumbed to hubris--probably right as I was walking through Palace Square. [The Palace Square is surrounded by the Winter Palace, the Hermitage, and the General Staff and Ministries of Finance and Foreign Affairs building (pictured below); at the center of the square is the Alexander Column (pictured below).] I put away my map and thought I knew exactly where I was going. Well, about two hours and two more blisters later, I finally got back to the hotel. This morning, I was sure to use the map. Just to be on the safe side. Tonight it rained again and we ate at the-restaurant-formerly-known-as-Propaganda. Now it's called Lenin something-or-another. Tomorrow, I'm going to the conference. Since it's only being held half the day, I also hope to see some of the Hermitage and perhaps some shopping (stores supposedly stay open to about 7 p.m. here). They have amazing shoes here and I saw an incredibly beautiful skirt in a store window. First I have to get more cash. The restaurants haven't been taking Mastercard so I've blown through a lot of rubles.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Sunday in St. Petersburg: Pictures

Here's pictures of the Vosstaniy-Mayakovskaya Metro area (Moscow Station is also located at ploschad "place" Vosstaniya). The first picture was taken as I walked "up" Nevsky Prospekt (from my hotel).

The monument with the star at the top? I can't find out the name of it anywhere in my travel books.

Yes, it rains a lot in St. Petersburg. It was a very gray day with a lot of drizzle. I didn't pack, or buy (for those who recall my trip to Munich), an umbrella.








Away from Home Ec-O: Special Russian Edition

I haven’t been blogging in quite some time. Instead, I’ve spent the last couple of weeks, preparing for my two-week business trip. Since I had to do some last minute shopping for it this past Thursday, “Bob” didn’t pick up the CSA share.

Right now, I’m sitting in a tiny bed in a tiny hotel in St. Petersburg, and at the end of the week, I’ll be on my way to England.

I have to admit it, yesterday was a lot harder than I imagined it would be. I thought with my Russian phrasebook and three St. Petersburg guide books, I’d be good to go. Since I’m stubborn, instead of hailing a cab at the airport, I took public transportation from the airport (“airports” to be exact) to this hole in a wall of hotel that appears to be in a “gentrifying” street in the Lower Nevsky/Smolny Convent area of St. Petersburg.

After I got off the plane, the passport control area went smoothly. I walked past the baggage claim where dozens of people were gathered holding up white signs with people’s names written on them. None were mine. Apparently my cab never made it. So after cashing in some dollars for rubles, I went to the tourist information kiosk and asked the young, somewhat helpful girl about the bus that goes to the metro (there is no train from the airport). She confirmed that bus #13 would stop at the Metro and that it would be just outside on the street (which I could see from where I was standing). I exited the building and saw lots of people boarding. I hesitated and just as it was nearly filled, I decided to chance it. I’ve been at places before where I didn't get on the first bus that I saw and then had to wait hours for the next one. I squeezed in, and the doors closed behind me. Huge mistake.

As the bus pulled away from the curb, I saw another bus pull up to the curb behind us. It had a large piece of paper taped to the front window with a huge #13 drawn on it. The bus I was on? It was full of German tourists who didn’t understand a word I said in Russian or in English. And it was not going to the Metro. This bus was going to the other Pulkovo airport; there's Pulkovo 1 and Pulkovo 2. I landed at 2 (the domestic airport) but took a side trip to 1 and waved goodbye to the German tourists who all seemed to know where they were going.

After realizing my mistake I decided to stay on the bus and just ride the bus back to Pulkovo 2. But, the bus driver waved me off the bus. He wouldn’t let me stay on. Reluctantly, I got off and waited at the curb, trying to not look suspicious and hoping another bus would come soon. I didn’t want to go into the building behind me because there was an x-ray machine. The last thing I wanted was my luggage confiscated and boarded on some plane while I was stuck in St. Petersburg without a ticket to wherever my bags were headed. I read through my travel books and learned that bus #39 goes from Pulkovo 1 to the metro. Suddenly a bus appeared around the bend. It was #39. I was saved. People got off, I got on. Then I got off because the bus driver shouted at me (in Russian) to get off the bus. I was confused. After I got off the bus. He kept talking-shouting at me and pointing downwards. I watched as he drove off.

So, I’m there outside the Pulkovo 1 airport trying to find stairs that go “down” to someplace where buses suddenly appear and take you to a metro station. There were no stairs. No escalators, no elevators, nothing. Then the soldier guys came outside. They stood on the curb. And as I continued to search for stairs to somewhere, they kept watching me as if I were up to no good.

Not wanting to get hauled off to a gulag, I finally worked up the nerve to ask a normal looking middle-aged man for help. He didn’t speak English but he did say “down” and made a bit of sense from a lot of hand gestures about how to get to the bus. I’d have to go into the airport building and through the security check point. I didn't want to go through security. Going through security can often lead to trouble. But I had no choice. I got on line anyway. I tried asking one of the guards about the buses, but he quickly said "hold on" and dragged over some younger guard to speak to me. He was really kind and calm (I wasn't) and told me how to get downstairs and then he told me that I'd have to put my bags through the baggage scanner. It was okay. I managed to finally find my way downstairs (remember, this is Pulkovo 1...where the domestic flights are; no one really has to speak any other language but Russian at this airport).

So, then I finally got on bus #39. I tried to spy how much people were digging out of their pockets for the fare. I thought it was 10 rubles. But when the old lady came around to collect the cash from me, she continued to hold out her hand after I handed her the 10 ruble note. So I handed her a second one and she gave me about 4 rubles in change. I soon discerned that she was getting impatient with everyone (not just me) because we were all giving her 20 ruble notes and not exact change. Then behind me, I heard her say to one guy "spasseeba," which is how "thank you" sounds in Russian. I could hear the clink clink clink of the exact change as he handed it to her. She laughed and the bus felt a little less tense. Until, of course, I realized that I still had no idea if I was on the right bus or not. We made about 4 stops before I worked up the nerve to ask the young guy sitting next to me. He didn't speak very much English at all. But he didn't indicate that I was on the wrong bus either. I sat tight and spotted the big M (for Metro) and the name of the stop I was looking for. Finally! I had some idea of where I was.

The St. Petersburg metro is a strange experience. The tracks are very deep underground, so the escalators are steep. I tried to take a picture, but the batteries weren't in the camera then, I’ll have to remember to take a picture next time.

Many of the subway stops look just like a bank of elevators. The solid, recessed doors in the wall slide open and then you climb onto a subway car. You don't even see the tracks and when the train stops most, if not all, of the signs are obscured. To get to my hotel’s neighborhood, I had to transfer three times. So, I counted my stops carefully and listened to the announcements as best as I could, and somehow I figured out the right direction to go each time I transfered.

I made it to my last stop: Ploschad Aleksandra Nevskovo I & II (which looks nothing like that in the Cyrillic alphabet). I took the long elevator ride up and was confronted with bedlam. Streets were torn up, construction equipment was beeping, fumes, exhaust, smoke were choking me, tons of people (both well dressed and hardly at all) were everywhere, and most of the street and sidewalks were missing--nothing but rubble everywhere. I had to lift my bag up over pebbles, and sand, and gravel, walk over 2x4s and, of course, try not to look to touristy with a map in one hand, a suitcase in the other, and a befuddled look on my face.

So, after I saw a famous swanky designer store (whose name escapes me now..some Italian male designer) I realized this must be Nevsky Prospekt, the 5th Avenue and Champs Elysees of St. Petersburg. So, I just kept walking. I couldn't find a single street sign that made sense or matched the names on my map (which had all the names in the Roman alphabet, not the Cyrillic one). But I just guessed and figured my hotel street had to be parallel to this one, so I cut down one of the blocks, walked down a bit, and encountered a very shabby area. I kept walking. Some of the blocks and building looked okay and some didn't. Then I finally spotted a sign on a building: KOHHaR. Earlier I had figured out that this is how my hotel's street name should look using the Russian alphabet (in Roman letters it's Konnaya). So I walked and kept looking for 10 Konnaya. After passing a 28 and a 20, I found a 10 that looked like it was burned out and closed up by the St. Petersburg Board of Health (there was an official looking sign, which I couldn’t read, tacked up next to the door). A guy who thought I was following him, ducked into a very run-down building next to it. So, I kept walking and found a very nice little side street park with benches. I sat down, got my wits about me, pulled out my language books, and figured out what my Hotel's name should look like in Russian. In Roman letters it's Kholstomer. So, I converted the sounds those letters make into Cyrillic. And I got: xoЛC+oMr...turns out I'd passed a place with a name that looked almost like that spelled out in neon. It was next to the semi-burned out building. And, yup, it was the right place.

The room is tiny (I'll take more pictures) but it seems clean. I have my concerns because all these buildings are connected, but I'll keep my clothes in my bag and one eye open at all times.

That was yesterday (Saturday, September 6). Today (Sunday), I had breakfast at the hotel. Then I walked “up” what I thought was Nevsky Prospekt, but which I learned later was Ligovsky Prospekt. I think I walked as far as the Obvodny Kanal.

I also tried to find a 3-prong adapter for my computer, but was unsuccessful at the electronics store (I saw a really cute green toaster though).

This afternoon, I had my meeting at a café that truly was “up” Nevsky Prospekt. Later, I had some caviar, blini, beef stroganoff, and vodka tonight at a very unusual little restaurant on Fontanka Naberezhanay! We had trouble finding it at first because we couldn’t find the “house number” (not an unusual occurrence here) and we couldn’t find a sign for the restaurant either. The restaurant was named “Propaganda” but now it looks like it’s called something else. It was about $100 for the three of us, which we deemed a good deal. The best part of the evening: being able to talk to some people. The second best: Nevsky Prospekt at night. It looks a lot better with the old building facades lit. I’ll take pictures next time. Since I had to walk all by myself from Ulitsa Mayakovskogo to Telezhny (which intersects Nevsky Prospect and my hotel’s street Konnaya—Telezhny runs perpendicular to both), I decided to keep my camera in my bag and just keep walking. Past the Ploschad Vosstaniya and Mayakovskaya (Moskovsky Station), Nevsky Prospekt really gets dark and less populated. It’s mainly fancy retail shops and very few restaurants.

Here’s some tips if you ever go to St. Petersburg: Bus #13 is very clearly marked. If you plan to use this bus to get to the metro, do not get on a bus that isn’t marked with this number. If you do, it’s almost guaranteed that you’ll be on the wrong bus.

Also, get maps that have the Russian geographical names in both the Cyrillic and Roman alphabets. The signs are not in Roman letters. So if you are lucky enough to find a legible street sign, you won’t be able to find it (or verify it) on your “for-English-speakers-only” map (unless you transcribe it phonetically by sounding out the names and converting those sounds into their Cyrillic symbols).

That’s it for now. It’s about 12:30 am (Monday morning) and about 4:26 pm New York time.