St.Petersburg. Second impression.

I continue to savor the city. It is so great to be able to speak the language, not only it open me the way to numerous Russian-only concerts and theaters, but without it I'll really miss the humor of the advertisements, the cleverness or often silliness of street signs, grafitties and borrowed names of various products. For people who don't speak Russian all this charm will fall, so to speak, on deaf ears.

It's a bit like a treasure hunt for me, the last time I was there 15 years ago and now I am equally happy finding things that I remember since than, and also finding those that I don't remember or just weren't there 15 years ago. The star among the latter is certainly the Ressurection Church (Spas na krovi). It's probably the most interesting church I ever saw, both inside and out, yet the Communists wanted to blow it up, as something that doesn't have aestetic value. The destruction was scheduled for 1941, so ironically it were the Nazis who saved it, albeit at a horrible price, which in addition to 50 millions lives, also included the deliberate mining and blowing up of the palaces in Peterhof.
As for Spas na Krovi, after the war the church was used as a warehouse for vegetables, until in 1970 communists in a sudden change of heart sanctioned the restoration works. They continue to this day, and the church was closed until 1997 - the reason why i didn't see it during my previous.

Of the negative things, Zara noticed that people on the streets usually don't smile. I guess before I was mostly looking over the heads at the architecture, so I can't say how facial
expressions of peterburgers compare to faces of people in other cities, yet Zara certainly has a point. The unusually high proportion of people here has very grumpy, worried looks. It's especially true of the older people those from 50 and up, but not limited only to this age group.

The people who are particularly likely to be grumpy are of course
salesmen. I think Russia is endemic in this respect, I've never seen yet anther country where salesmen continue to be unhappy even when you make a purchase. Sometimes however the service is exceptionally good. Yet there seem to be no middle ground, if service is anything else than EXCEPTIONAL, it must be the old Soviet style. Again, the older salespeople are more likely to be rude and grumpy - I guess their years of experience count. But it is strange, that they haven't been yet phased out by the new generation. The representatives of both sales schools are often employed by the same shop.

There are also many other things here which are done up the backside, if you know what I mean. I think my experience of purchasing pants deserves to be described in detail. Actually the first part, the purchasing was rather smooth. Except for the delay caused by the grumpy cashier who accepted credit cards only with passport and pin-code.
Rather redundant precaution if you ask me, but it's an usual credit card policy here. The sales woman however was very friendly and helpful, she even personally walked me through the maze of staircases to the alteration room where I was supposed to get free trimming. As soon as she left though, the things instantly became soviet style, as the somewhat irritated tailor told me that she can't do the trim until the next week. Any attempt to reason with her were unsuccessful, so I turned around and left to return the pants.

Now comes the most interesting part. If somebody just gave you pants and took your money, how difficult should it be for the same person to perform the reverse transaction 5 minutes later? Here is the process:

1. The grumpy cashier needs to call the manager
2. The manager requires that you write an application
(zayavlenie) for return. The application has to be written by hand and in a very specific way, so the manager helpfully tells you exactly what to write. At the same point you also write the receipt, that you got back the money.
3. Than the manager takes your application in her back office and prints two forms - one is the confirmation that you returned the merchandise, another it the confirmation that she accepted the goods. For some reason you need to sign both forms.
4. Then you take one of the signed forms, together with the handwritten receipt to the Administrator, located in the opposite part of the building.
5. Once the Administrator is off the phone, she checks your receipt for grammar and other mistakes and signs it after you rewrite the parts that she deems unsatisfactory. I.e. in our case Zara had to replace "den'gi vozvrasceny" with "den'gi polucheny" ("returned" with "received")
6. Once you have the signature, Administrator tells you where you need to go to actually get the money. In our case we had to go to the first floor to the jewelry section.

Sounds too complicated? And this is a private capitalist venture, I am afraid even to think of the burreaucracy within the government
establishments

St.Petersburg! First impressions.

This morning we finally arrived to our most anticipated destination,
St.Petersburg. In retrospect we can surely pat ourselves on the back
for arriving there from Helsinki by boat, instead of taking a train.
The Estonian-owned boat was rather backwards in terms of construction,
but in every other respect it was much more fun than any other western
ferry we took during our trip. The onboard performances alone probably
justified the price we paid for the tickets, the number of dancers and
musicians performing for us probably was larger than the number of
fellow passengers. And as an added bonus we had an excellent view of
Tallinn skyline on a way (did I type Tallinn with enough consonants? The
spelling seems to change with every political change).
Unfortunately we didn't have visas to come ashore... unfortunately for
Estonia of course, due to their nationalistic(=stupid) visa policies
they lost 2 potential tourists.

And fortunately for us, because we'll have few extra days to spend in
St.Petersburg, which is certainly the most beautiful city of the Europe,
and therefore of the entire world. Petersburg can still impress even
after the Royal ensembles of Brussels, Copenhagen and Stockholm could no
longer stir our overloaded emotions.

Not only it's a feast for eyes, the city has everything the heart might
desire, I haven't yet been in any other city which will offer so much in
terms of round o'clock entertainment and good food. Even better then New York, and certainly better than anything in France. BTW, in my opinion French cuisine is very
overrated, just a big brand name that covers up the naked emperor.

It's Russians who are both the best cooks and best connoisseurs of the
food and every establishment in St.Petersburg proves this apparent fact. Even Coca Cola here tastes better. Seriously!
And it's only of food, but of all the other good things that come with
it. I.e. it's fun to walk in into most of the cafes just to check out
the design of the interiors - these are the funkiest places I've seen
anywhere.

Today's Petersburg is definitely a place to indulge yourself, the
variety of options is mind-boggling. Russians are great entrepreneurs,
and there is any kind demand - there will be supply to meet it. Would
you like to pet baby bear and feed it from a milk bottle? This will be
50 rubles (about $1.5) Would you like to fly supersonic jet? You can
do this too, except the price I believe is a bit higher.

The only thing that SPb seems to miss is, surprisingly, the availability
of hotels in the center. For our first night there we couldn't find
anything available for many blocks around the Moscow station.
But, what's a big deal - instead we took the advantage of the white
nights and booked a 5.5 hour night tour of the city. When life throws
you lemons, why not make lemonade?

Of course we also had an option of staying in a private room offered by
a
friendly babushka. The supposedly clean and beautiful room was in the
building we could see from the steps of the station and we agreed to
check it out. Actually Zara did walk to the 6th floor to check it,
while I was staying with the bags. Now I somewhat regret that I missed
this opportunity to see in what kind of horrible condition people live
in post-Soviet Russia. While I had good time standing outside and
reading all kinds of wall graffities, Zara was the one to take upon
herself all the shock.

This is another thing that should be noted about today's Piter - it was
throughly restored for 300-years celebrations, but the beauty is usually
is only facade deep. Walk few steps away from the main streets, and
you'll find that most of the city is actually in a very miserable,
dilapidated state.

But this is only if you walk where you shouldn't. It actually would
take a deliberate effort to leave the glittering Nevskiy, where every
house is a palace, and stray into some other less restored streets
(where perhaps every house is also a palace, but the one that hasn't
been painted in 300 years)

Complete set of stories from Benelux and Scandinavia

Stories from Europe moved here

Tri-state meeting in Oslo

When we went to dance tango in Oslo, there was already a man standing at
the door of the studio pushing the buzzer. Nobody was answering and at
some point we had to enlist help of a local woman.
As i've already mentioned, everybody in Scandinavia speaks fluent
English, but our new acquaintance - Pierre from Philadelphia, preferred
to converse with the Norwegian woman in Swedish. Last year he spent
winter in
Stockholm ("because I love cold weather") where he learned the language
("because I love languages"). Now I think he was rightfully proud of
his achievement and eager to have some practice. In his place I'd
probably do the same.
The fact that woman was replying in Norwegian didn't seem to impede
their conversation, so i suppose that the two languages are not very
different. But Zara and I couldn't understand a single word and passed
our time by discussing the situation in Russian.
Soon however we were drawn into the conversation as well, when woman
said to Pierre in perfect English: "Oh, you are an American? I am an
American too, I am from New Jersey!"

So here we were, representatives of New York, Pennsylvania and New
Jersey, standing in front of the Argentine tango studio in Oslo, and
speaking Swedish, Norwegian and Russian... Can it get more weird than
that?

Norway in a nutshell

The famous "Norway in a Nutshell" tour is everything it claims to be,
except that it isn't done in a nutshell, but in a bus, train and a boat.
But the views are indeed absolutely spectacular at the every segment of
the trip. We were also exceptionally lucky because contrary to the
weather forecast and statistical averages, on the day we picked for the
trip the rain has stopped and the skies finally cleared. As you can
imagine sunny weather has greatly improved the scenery.
My only complaint, albeit a very tiny one was that the automatic
commentary on the tourist boat was done in up to 9-11 different
languages, one after another. Sometimes it felt like the loudspeaker
would never shut up. Fortunately they didn't use all the languages for
every announcement, but would instead pick 3-7 at random, that's why I
am not certain about the total number of languages used. At first I
tried to figure the system, why a particular announcement is chosen to
be
translated i.e. into Spanish, Polish and Japanese and another into
French, Portuguese, Italian and German. But I couldn't solve the
problem and tried to concentrate on the nature instead. But then I got
interested in the announcements once more when I caught that the text
conveyed in different translations is not exactly the same. I.e the
stone church, that according to the English version was built in XIII
century, the French translation placed in the VIII century, but the
following message in Portuguese somewhat restored it to XIIth. It
didn't make any sense and once again I tried to ignore the text and just
enjoy the views.

Finally, upon landing in a small port of Flom we switched to a special
tourist train that travels for 20 miles through the impossibly beautiful
terrain. Unfortunately this terrain is also impossible for overland
travel and the whole 1/3 of the way the train spends in tunnels, where
opportunities for sightseeing are very limited. And for the rest of the
trip, most people get only a one-sided picture, that is either
left-sided or right-sided one. Because the train frequently dives in
into the mountains and emerges on the other side, neither side of the
train could be preferred to another. Therefore I couldn't decide where
to sit and spend most of the trip in "tambur", running from one window
to another.

Once we arrived to the final stop, the mountain station of Myrdal (only
about 1300m, but close to the snow line!), we thought that we gotta see
the same road again, but this time with a full 360 view. So from Myrdal
we hiked all the way back to Flom, an easy 20km descent to the sea
level. At first I was taking pictures of every waterfall on the way,
than of every second, then of every tenth higher than 50 meters... then
I just put the camera away - there are too many of them, my trigger
finger got sore.

Once we finally passed all the 1001 waterfall and descended back to Flom
we had an option of renting a kayak, and backtracking the route of the
tourist boat as well. It would be only two days of paddling (certainly
days filled with fun!) The company www.fjordpaddlingnorway.com provides
all the equipment, but it requires 3 weeks advance reservation. Hmm...
I wish I knew it beforehand, but Zara for some reason is glad that I
didn't. Why is that?

Tango in Malmo

Across the Oresund strait from Copenhagen lies a major Swedish city
Malmo. It's not quite New Jersey, yet it gave us some much needed break
from endless sightseeing. We liked walking around the cobblestone
streets of the pedestrian center, savoring oresund salmon in the street
cafe, trying out-of-this-world danishes - something we couldn't find in
the neighboring Denmark. Perhaps I should also mention that we also
didn't find any hamburgers in Hamburg, except those sold in numerours
Burger Kings and McDonalds.

While walking around Malmo we came to a sign that invited us to a tango
night and we gladly accepted the offer. We went upstairs to a beatiful
dimly lit ballroom, where besides us there were only 4 more couples,
representing about 5-6 different nationalities. As we were explained,
in no way the small number of people in the ballroom should be taken as
a sign that tango is not popular in Malmo. Quite the opposite - there
were 2 more tango parties happening on the same night, and the party we
came for somewhat lost to competition. I wonder how good was the
competition if this place was nothing short of perfect?

Malmo seems to have even more international flavor and more things going
than Copengagen. I.e. had we stayed here for one more night we would've
definitely checked out Balkan party. But for better or worse, we must
catch a ferry to Oslo to get there in time for Medieval festival. Once
again, it's a tough life ahead.

Sticker shock

You might be wondering, how come I sent so many messages at once. The
secret is that tonight we are staying in a very shitty hostel. We got
into this trap without looking because we were lured by the promise of
free 24-hour Internet - a rare and expensive commodity in this part of
the world.
Still we should have looked first, because our room (for US$70, it is
cheap by Scandinavian standards) reminds me of a medieval dungeon. And
Zara said that we would have got better accomodations if we did
something illegal. And in this case it would include free breakfast and
lunch.
So I have no intention of sleeping in this rathole and intend on staying
up all night and getting back my money worth in Internet time.

Talking about cost of living in Scandinavia, this is the first place
ever where I feel like a Peruvian in New York, rather than the other way
around. Well, I already felt like that 13 years ago when I arrived to
New York from Moscow. At that time one way subway ride from Brooklyn to
Manhattan cost as much as taking a plane from Moscow to Odessa and
coming back by train. However eventually I got used to New York prices,
and perhaps I'll get used to Scandinavian as well, but so far I continue
thinking that paying US$4-5 for a small cup of tea is insane. There are
of course unexpected bargains and freebies here and there, but for most
things prices are just as crazy.

I just can't understand what economic forces make tea i.e. in Denmark so
much more expensive than it is in the neighboring Germany. Zara, who's
a tea addict, made an extensive research into the subject. According to
her the hot water here is free, although in some places you might be
asked to pay a krona or two for the cup. The tea bags also cost next to
nothing, particularly if bought in Afgan-owned grocery at the corner.
So it must be the process of making tea, i.e. placing the tea bag into
the hot water, that generates $4-5 of added value?

It just defies everything I know about economics and free trade, the
laws of economics just stop working once you get to Scandinavia.
Perhaps that's why they succeeded in building Socialism in Sweden, the
experiment that failed in every other country. The high prices also
explain why there are so many Scandinavians are traveling abroad, i.e.
somebody from language school in Ecuador noted that after Copenhagen,
Quito has the highest concentration of Danish girls in the world. I
think these girls just can't afford to live in their own country.

And of people traveling in Scandinavia there seem to be a much higher
percentage of Americans, some Japanese and lots of Russians - people
from relatively well off countries. And I don't know much about
Russians, but we spoke to several Americans and they all were in the
state of sticker shock.

On a train to Stocholm we met a Swedish guy, a recent graduate in
Economics. He couldn't answer my questions, but instead added some
mysteries to the puzzle. According to him Swedes are aware that prices
in the other parts of the world are lower. I.e. some of them go to
Germany to buy their cars (and probably everything else)... But why do
they have to do it individually, haven't anybody thought of making a
fortune by bringing in the entire ferry of cars? Hold on one second...
perhaps that's what all these Russians are doing here.

A Hamburg story

In every city we visited so far we noticed two European features that
make these places very different from New
York. Firstly, it's the exceptional quality of dairy products (or
smoked fish if talking about Norway). Secondly, it's the apparent
absence of police on the streets.

Without a cop posted at every corner Europeans engage in all kinds of
outrageous behavior: they drink beer on the streets, smoke in the bars,
rollerblade inside railway stations, bike on sidewalks, sitting on milk
crates, etc... Well, I am not even talking about what they do Amsterdam!
All this behavior is of course illegal in New York, but here the
society shows a much greater degree of tolerance. Like it or not, but
apparently the majority here doesn't think that for these offenses
people should be taken to court.
And with a much smaller number of crimes subject to prosecution,
Europeans probably do not need so much police, and those few officers
they have are probably running after thiefs and murderers. That's why
here you don't see them idling in every donut shop.

We didn't see law enforcement in action until we reached the 'free and
hanseatic city of Hamburg'. This is how the tourbook calls this place.
Hamburg is a separate state in Germany, and being 'free and hanseatic'
it's entitled to making up its own laws one, of which instantly reminded
me of New York.

Right in the beginning of our city walk we came across a street musician
who assembled his sound making machine out of impossible number of
stuffed animals, broken hangers, pieces of furniture and every other
imaginable type of garbage. All together it was making quite a pleasant
sound that people, adults and children alike, seemed to like. We
stopped to listen as well. But then two cops walked by... To give them
a credit, they discretely waited until the song is over, but then the
walked to the musician, said something, checked his papers, wrote
something in their book...while the crowd was still waiting for the
continuation of the show. But afterwards there was no more fun - man
packed his machine and left, much to everybody's disappointment.
Everything happened very calmly without any excesses, I don't even think
that the performer was fined, yet the scene had a very ugly feeling
about it. Two big guys with guns are harassing one harmless little guy
with
bells around his ankles - and nobody calls police to stop it, because
these armed guys are police and the Law stands behind them. It
felt like if I got into the inverted, 'behind the looking glass' world,
where the notions of good and bad are completely messed up. Well, I
often feel that way back at home.
And as for the Hamburg, it is certainly a fine interesting city, but
this incident cast a long shadow over my
perception of the city. It took me a while before I shook it off of my
mind.
And Zara was also disappointed: 'And nobody defended him! In Dushanbe
people always protest when police chases somebody unjustly... And
police usually leaves..'
Well, how can she prefer the instinctive reflexes of wild tajiks over
the obedience of the civilized Germans. These are brought up to respect
the Law and Order above anything else, just the same way they were
during the Third Reich.

The rules of train travel in Holland

In little Norwegian mountain station Myrdal upon boarding train to Oslo
we saw a woman with two little girls who was looking at us with her eyes
wide open. And we looked back at her with our eyes wide open as well...
I think to explain the pecularity of this encounter I need to go few
weeks back and post some notes that I skipped...

Before arriving to Amsterdam I sent a message to my Dutch aquaintance
asking for tips and suggestions. Here is what he said:

'Let's just say that i hope you'll enjoy my country, although I
hope you'll not just do Amsterdam... I can recommend you places in the
south
like Maastricht and Breda (my study town), or Utrecht is beautiful as
well.
Than you could be trekking on the Veluwe close to Apeldoorn, or sailing
up
north in Friesland which is certainly great and this province has such
an
interesting culture (and its own language!). So much to do apart from
visiting (also beautiful, don't get me wrong) Amsterdam and its
coffeeshops.'

I was just about to reply that our limited time doesn't allow us to see
any of the counties in-depth and we are only zooming through the main
attractions... but then we saw much more Holland than we ever planned
to.

Rule of train travel in Holland #1:

In Holland two cars that leave from the same platform at the same
time will not necessarily arrive to the same destination.


Rule #2

If Dutch conductor checks your ticket and sees that you are going to the
wrong place - he won't tell you.


When 2 hours after departure our train failed to arrive to the scheduled
transfer station, I became very alarmed. However it was impossible to
find out neither where we are nor where are we going.

Rule #3

Once conductor checks your ticket he hops off at the next stop. There
is no map or schedule posted inside the train. Some stations do not
have name signs. The surrounding scenery is flat and unremarkably
similar - I think non-Dutch people won't be able to find any
differences.


Luckily, after racing through all cars I found one conductor off duty,
who told me that instead of traveling NW to Hamburg, we actually spent 2
hours going South. So now we had to get off at the next stop, catch the
train to Utrecht and there catch another train to Hamburg. That's what
we did. This time we paid more attention to every little detail and
indeed for the first few stops the train went as expected and I let my
guards down... for a while, until 2 hours later I realized that we are
again moving in somewhat wrong direction. This time however we weren't
alone in our predicament, there was another woman from USA, with two
little girls who was traveling by the same train to Keln. So we were
going NW to Hamburg, she was going SW to Keln, and train took the
neutral course to the West, giving us an opportunity to see even more of
Dutch countryside. Finally we arrived to some final 'end of the tracks'
destination and luckily the ticket office was still open. There we
learned that a) we still can get to Hamburg
b) our tickets need to be reissued
c) not only our tickets are reissued for free, but we'll get about 16
euros back... Is it a bonus for accumulated mileage?

Rule #4


Holland is a small country, if you randomly ride around in trains for a
day ot two, eventually you'll get to your destination.


Once again the woman with two kids boarded the train to Keln and we
boarded train to Hamburg and went to our separate ways... again in the
same car. Miraculously, with few more transfers we all arrived to our
respective destinations without further adventures. Or so we thought,
before we met this woman again on a train in Norway. Is she still lost
on her way to Keln? Or the world is even smaller than we thought?

Poliglots from fish market

Yet another thing that continues to amaze me in Europe are the
linguistic abilities of the local population. The population of every
country we visited is almost 100% bilingual and in many cases people are
fluent in 3, 4 and sometimes even more languages. Nowhere I found it more striking than at the fish market in Bergen, Norway. (of all the places, huh?)
The stalls here are loaded with countless varieties of sea food,
including at least a dozen of distict types of what I can only describe
with one word: 'lox' (all of them, btw, taste fabulously good). But
even more impressive than the flavors of the fish are the menus
displayed next to each of the stalls. These menus advertise not the
fish but the languages spoken by the vendors. As a rule there are at
least as many languages as there are types of fish for sale. We gave
some of the vendors a quick linguistic test and in every case they
passed it with flying colors. The most remarkable was the conversation
with a German girl (who now lives in Norway). She spoke the purest,
cleanest, accentless Russian I've heard in a very long time. I wish I can speak
Russian as well as she does! The only time it became aparent that
Russian is not her native language was in the following dialogue:

-Nu kak tebe kopchenniy kit?
-Da tak sebe, ni ryba ni myaso...

After that she looked a bit confused:

-U etogo vyrazheniya est' esche kakoe-to znachenie, da?