I would have to say about 1 in 6 stores in this place is a vape shop. Jesus, there are a lot of them. There is no way they can have a profit with the number of competitors. There is no way they make enough money to pay for the electricity for the garish LED lights, that each has.
On one strip of seven shops, three were vapes and one was a taбak (tobacco).
That’s another one, tobacco sellers. I’m not just talking about the taбak shops, but there are guys selling cartons of various brands, including Marlboro, all over. Even one guy who parks right in front of my hostel and props up his display, every day.
Surprisingly, I don’t see that many people smoking or vaping, in Saint Petersburg. Perhaps it is strongly discouraged in public areas.
On the other hand, wherever I go, at least one trash can is smoldering because of someone dropped a cigarette in there.
Other overly common stores: bra and panties, cellphone cases, shoes, designer clothes, socks, pharmacies, and fruit and vegetable stands.
Russia must be full of sick people, every block has a pharmacy. Looking through the window, I can see that everything is locked away. You’ll have to pay before you get your stuff.
There must be more cellphone cases in Russia than cellphones.
Haven’t you ever been walking down the road and thought, “Hey, I wish there was a way I could buy socks right here, instead of going all the way into a store.” In Saint Petersburg, you can buy socks right on the sidewalk. So convenient.
Just like Shanghai, every vegetable stand has the same items, placed the same way. It must be their version of franchising.
I did find the clothing version of Akihabara, right in my backyard. Seriously, it is in the alley behind my hostel.
There are hundreds of stalls, across acres, selling every single type of garment you can think of. Google says Apraksin Yard is centuries old, I can believe that. It has dirt roads, not that they were always dirt. The paving has been crushed and worn away.
You can tell the authenticity of the product by the names, like Lago blocks and Mimecraft toys, or Nike shoes with the swoosh going the other way.
Many of the product boxes are sun faded, so you know they are in high demand.
I suppose most of the products are real, it must be cheaper to send via train on land than a ship across the ocean, plus adding on the US tariffs, which is just another tax on the American people.
Around town, you’ll find the occasional beggar, but some will have something to sell. I saw several old women selling bandages. Yes, you could buy individual bandages, as if you just cut yourself and had that need right now. At least they’re doing something that might be useful.
I don’t begrudge the musicians or singers that are trying to make a living off their talent, but I can’t stand the beggars.
In Moscow, there is a man laying by the door all day, every day. He will never find work or food laying there. If he’s really hungry, there are plenty of pigeons. Not something I would do, but given no other choice…
I purchased a 5-day pass for Saint Petersburg, but really most of what I was going to see was near enough to walk. For simplicity, it is better to have the card, otherwise you will have to buy a ticket every time you go in.
The subway stations were originally designed to be emergency shelters, especially against bomb attacks, especially nukes.
The escalators have lamps on poles, every 8-10 feet. Each has a numbered decal, starting at 1 at the bottom. I presume that the numbers are there to have set places to measure radioactivity, to determine rising or falling levels.
I did notice that the handrails move just slightly faster. Over 150+ feet, this would be a lot and could throw you off balance.
At the bottom of each, an old woman watches monitors, to make sure no one is breaking the rules. I saw several that were on the verge of passing out, it has to be a super dull routine. Also, there is graffiti in some, so they are not really doing their jobs.
The signs are generally clear, and all include Latin transliterations.
Some platforms have modern clear doors, to prevent falling into the tracks. Others have solid metal doors (bomb resistance?). Most are just open, not falling is totally your responsibility.
If you discover you’re going the wrong way or passed your stop, just get off, walk across the platform, and get on the train going the other direction.
The trains themselves are comfortable, for public transport. But I could see a regular user getting hearing damage from the noise of the wheels on the tracks.
Trains come about every 2 minutes apart.
One train had a display showing the next station upcoming, and the temperature, time, and speed. We got up to 78km/h (48mph). They seem to spend about 75% of the time accelerating, then decelerating only as they enter the next station. They might not make it into Formula 1, but they do have some G forces.
Saint Petersburg only has 5 lines, so far, so knowing how to get from here to there is easy.
Moscow has 15, right now, including 3 rings and a monorail. Plus there are regular rail stations attached to the metro stations, so you could go almost anywhere in Russia or nearby countries without needing a car or plane.
My room is on Line #3, but I noticed one day, I was at the #6/#7 station, but neither of them connected to #3. That means I had to do at least two transfers. That’s a pain.
The stations are reasonably clean, despite not seeing any trash cans. Graffiti was very minor, markers on escalators, mostly.
All the stations have temp barricades everywhere to funnel you in one direction. But some are in the way of access, like one had the first 3 openings to the track closed off. You might miss your train because you had to go further.
Some stations have many entrances/exits, allowing you to tunnel under many roads and avoid rain or snow.
It seems that every block has a bus stop. I like this as most have area maps with a “5 minute walk” circle around your location. They have some highlights to see, statues, restaurants, shops, etc.
I see now I should not have used the AeroExpress train. It would have been faster and cheaper to take bus from airport to metro station. So much for “express.”
My time here is up, I set my alarm too freakin’ early, but didn’t want to have to pay for subway tickets. My pass expired ~7:30, so I checkout of my room, caught the metro to the bus stop.
Oh, good, I get directed to the side for extra screening at the metro station. Could be because of my baggage or maybe just random.
There is an express bus to the airport. I did not think there would be that many people, but it was packed.
We’re dropped off right at departures and I go check in at the desk. There is a quick x-ray of baggage as you enter. The desk lady pointed out that I needed gate 2. I’ve done this a few times, I look for the big number next to the word “gate.” But I guess not everyone has flown before.
Then I went through a boarding pass checkpoint, then regular security. Man, this was a breeze. No shoe removal, no electronics removal, no sanity removal. The only downside was that I had throw out a yogurt drink that I was going to drink while waiting for the bus, but they’re too quick.
I went down the hall and found gate 2. Crap, this place is small and packed. There are only 50 seats for an entire 737’s worth of passengers. Yes, I did count them, I am a weirdo like that.
I listen to some of the intercom messages, they’re in Russian and then English. I notice, a lot of flights getting shifted to other gates. I presumed it was because of delays in some other airline, but I’m going Aeroflot, the kingpin.
After the first plane loaded, I managed to grab a seat by the wall, so I could put my stuff in front of me. Still got about 4 hours to wait, so I nod off.
At some point, I decide to check my flight trackers. Just to see if where the plane was at the time, was the flight already having small delays, etc. Wait, WTF this says my flight is at gate 18, no that can’t be right. I check another, and another. Crap.
I get up, knowing I’m losing my prime seat, and go to find a display board. Yep, it says now at gate 18. Maybe they did have an announcement, but I was asleep, therefore it doesn’t count.
Also, there are 18 gates at LED, that means I am literally at the opposite end of the terminal. No big deal, still an hour at least.
I happen to see the boarding pass of a lady sitting next to me. She is clearly Russian, but her name on the pass is only Romanised. My name is also, but that’s my name, I would have thought that a Russian airline at a Russian airport would have the original names printed, at least for domestic.
Boarding pass states loading is at 11:20, doors close at 11:40. OK, why are we still sitting here at 11:29?
Finally, someone comes and unlocks the gangway doors and we all start going in. A couple of personnel run metal wands over us, despite already having gone through security, plus I didn’t even remove by backpack, so how good a job were they doing?
We pass on down and into the plane, no one checked boarding passes. I could be going almost any where in Russia.
I do have to say, with 4 “checks” this was still the easiest boarding yet, even easier than PreCheck.
It is only an hour flight, so we got a couple chocolate cookies and choice of coffee, tea, or water. Really surprised we got that much.
I go to get off the plane and… whoa… there are stairs. Good thing I was looking. We exit the plane and have to get onto a bus, we are way out from the terminal. I was near the front so I was able to get on the bus, many had to wait for another.
When mom and I flew from Inverness, Scotland to Manchester, our plane also did not pull to a gate, but there they had a series of cones marking out a path we were required to follow, but that was maybe 50 feet. This was several minutes on the shuttle.
Airport main area
It is domestic, so no more checks, just head for the exit or your next flight.
The main area of the airport was huge. Seriously, you could have a couple full football fields in there, lots of shops and things to do. I wanted to look around, but I need to find the AeroExpress train ticket office.
I followed the signs, taking about a thousand turns, before getting there. 950 rubles for a standard 2-way ticket. Hope I don’t loose it.
Then I have to follow a few hundred more signs to the platform. There’s only a few people ahead of me, so I probably just missed one.
The display says the next is at 14:14, only 20ish minutes to wait. Only, the Russians don’t believe in sitting, there are no benches. Other than parks, I have seen very few places to sit and wait.
AeroExpress train
Finally, the big red train pulls in and we board.
“Express” is in the name, but this train was anything but fast. First we made about 4 stops. Second, I checked my speedometer app, we didn’t get above 20mph. So slow that I again began to nod off.
We reached the final stop, train station right next to the Metro. Or so I thought, it is right next, but you basically have to circle halfway around one, then halfway around the other.
Butterfly apartment building
I wait at the ticket window, of course there’s only one, and use the translator I need a 7-day pass. Guess what wikipedia lied to me about? The don’t have 7-day, only single and three day. So I get a 3, I’ll just have get another later.
The route is simple enough, down 2 stations, switch and then one more. That’s the easy part, then I have to walk up the street, cross another busy street and find the place.
In Saint Petersburg, the hostel’s name was actually different than what the booking site had, a translation error, so I could not find it on street view. Here the problem was, street view didn’t cover areas that couldn’t be driven, like alleys with barricades.
Through the translator, I ask a lady nearby, surprising she has good English, but doesn’t know the hostel. She asks a man walking by and he points around back. I give thanks to both and head around back. No signs. Fortunately, an Indian on the phone pauses his conversation to direct me to a specific door. Very helpful people here.
I get buzzed in and climb 8 flights to the hostel, still no sign, I only found it because the door started to buzz as I approached.
I entered, cautiously. It looked like someone home. I’m going to get arrested.
The hostess come in and starts to take my info and check me in. She does not know English, so we converse through the translator. I swear this must be the most used app in this country after TicTok.
At some point, she makes a call, then informs me that I can’t stay the whole week, foreigners can only stay 3 days. I can assure you it did not say any of that on the booking site.
She says she will try to find me another to move to in 3 days. OK, that’s probably the best I’m going to get.
She wants to know if I have slippers, no I don’t. Great, its one of those places. Again, not mentioned on the site. She has a box of miscellaneous ones, I grab a pair and swap for my shoes.
She takes me to the desk and I pay for three days, then she leads me to the room.
Very small room with bunk bed. That’s ok, I’ve booked the whole room, so no roommate or top bunk.
I spread out the sheets on the bed and put on the pillow case and start to organize my stuff, when she knocks on the door.
Apparently, my “registration” is expiring today and I wouldn’t be able to stay there. I got the registration from the first hostel and never looked at it. I just thought it was a receipt or something, luckily I put it in my folder with the other confirmations.
The first hostel had no way of knowing I would be staying in Moscow, or anywhere else. They didn’t ask and I didn’t know to tell.
I never did find out why she couldn’t just give me a new registration, after all, that’s what the first one did.
She is on the phone with someone and I’m looking for another place nearby, maybe they can make me a new registration. Then she states that she found me a place that can take me and gives me an address, on the other side of town.
I picked this place because it was the closest place to a metro station that I could find. The new one was nearly a mile. That’s 2 miles every time I leave and come back. In the rain, if so.
I go back down the stairs and head out towards the station, but then I have a thought, I have no idea what this new place is going to cost. This could be a bait and switch, or a murder the tourist scenario. If I don’t like the service, I have no recourse with the booking company, I didn’t book this place through them.
I had been looking at a site, right as she told me about the new location. So I stepped to the side of the walkway and took a better look at the site. They had no 2-bed rooms available, but had a 3, so I booked it. It was a bit of meandering to get to it from where I was, but it was actually mostly a straight shot from the station.
I figured if this place and any other I tried wouldn’t work, then the other place was still available.
Some army contraption
Third floor, I’m getting a work out. Plus they have signs, both outside and in the stairway, so you actually know you’re going the right way.
I check in, the lady took my registration, had me sign in and that was it. (So far.)
They have an odd set up, the toilets and baths are segregated men/women, which is normal, but the toilet rooms have 2 toilets, divided by a wall, but open otherwise. The showers are also 2 per room, but at least then there is a curtain across the front.
There are 2 other beds in my room, but only one is occupied, so far. Oddly, there are no keys. You get buzzed in at the front door, but that’s it.
I was quite sweaty after my climb up the stairs, check in, check out, down the stairs, walk down the road, up more stairs aggravation. I took a shower right away.
Other than cookies on the plane and some of my yogurt drink, I hadn’t eaten yet, so I headed out to find something.
One street over, a major pedestrian thoroughfare, were lots of shops, artists, and restaurants. Down side, they were all “fast” food. Screw it, I got me a stuffed pita at the doner place.
I found some steps and I sat to eat, dropping a good amount on my clean shirt. Then headed to the supermarket and got some juice and milk, for my muesli.
I am so tired, but I have to stay up until a proper bedtime, otherwise I’ll be awake at the wrong time and disturb my roommate. Also, I didn’t come here to sleep.
A juxtaposition of a very new car, with a extremely old one.
Since I’ve checked out everything I wanted to see, I decided to get out of town.
I took the red-line all the way to the end, outside of Saint Petersburg, to a small town called Мурино (Murino), in Leningrad Oblast.
An oblast is like a little state within the nation. Like DC or Rhode Island.
This was the first “subway” that wasn’t underground, being much like a regular train station platform. Also, every other station has the platform between the tracks, this had the tracks between two platforms, which also means you couldn’t just get on the opposite train and go backwards. All doors led out, returning requires another ticket.
First thing I noticed was these huge apartment buildings, larger than anything in the city.
I walked along, having no destination, just trying to get lost. Hard thing to actually do.
There were many single family houses. Many were interesting, but everyone had a corrugated steel fence or wall, I wasn’t going to get good pics. Whether for noise or privacy, probably both.
Despite the first real graffiti, it did seem to be a decent place to live. Quiet, not too much traffic.
I passed by a small memorial for the aviators lost in WWII, with a cemetery behind it. The cemetery had fences around all the grave sections, perhaps to show the family’s area. It was somewhat overgrown, not weeds, but trees and bushes. You couldn’t really see far away.
Between the fences, you had about a foot or so to walk through. Interesting, most of the tombstones had photographs or etched images of the deceased. That is somewhat new in America, so to see it on 50+ year old graves, is surprising.
There was a small park, overlooking the Reka River. The sketchiest bridge I have ever crossed, lies over the river. I passed a small pond, with a mallard duck. I quacked to it, but it didn’t understand my accent.
I browsed through the local garden center, not like I can buy anything. It was larger that the supermarket, the Лента (Lenta). Lenta had more beer, wine, and spirits than anything else. I suppose that tells you something about the life there.
The buses in town were very modern, but the few I seen here were 1960’s at least, if not war era. Surprising, since most everything here, except houses, looks newish. The houses do need some work.
I filled my backpack with my dirty clothes and headed upstairs to the office. Fortunately, the one clerk who knows English is working, she takes me back to the communal bathroom and shows me how to operate the clothes washer.
It is so small, I only put in half of my clothes, socks, underwear, and 2 of my pants.
It takes half an hour, so I drop my pack in the room and head out. But I realize, by the time I get to a place and order, the laundry will be done. It’s already 10 minutes just to get down and out the door.
I kill a few minutes, just watching the traffic and people. Then head up, still time on the display, so I sit in the kitchen.
Some Russian cop show is on. One of the officers holds up his hand to stop a car, flashes his badge and jumps into the passenger seat. In a real scenario, as soon as he stepped to the side of the car, the driver would’ve taken off.
Also, the dialogue doesn’t match the mouth movements. The text on street signs is Cyrillic, but maybe not originally Russian, maybe Estonian or Kazakh.
Finally, the machine has finished. I swap the loads and restart the machine. Then I head to my room, I now have to hang everything up to dry, because there is no dryer.
One window pane opens wide and I’m able to drape everything over the bed frame. Periodically I flipped everything over. There are hangers, but they don’t reach well enough to hook on the 2-by frame, resulting in frequent drops. The windows are cool, twist the lever one way and they open like a door, but twist the lever the other way and they tip inward from the top. The latter would allow fresh air, but prevent rain from entering.
My socks and underwear are now blueish. I had 2 new pairs of jeans that must have bled a bit. Oh well, it could have been worse, I have two red shirts.
Because of the wind blowing in from the courtyard, I was forced to put on my jacket.
After all wash was done, I headed out to a supermarket. I bought a 350g of sausage, yogurt drink, cheese sauce and BBQ sauce, and a loaf of flattish bread. Made this morning, it was so soft.
I grabbed a plate and knife from the kitchen and ate half the bread with sauces and half the meat. Saving the rest for tomorrow.
Not the healthiest meal, or the normalest, but it filled me and it was good.
All day I’ve had the pants in the open window but still damp.
While scrolling around on Google maps, last night, I spotted a museum that I had not noticed before.
In Houston (my god, was it really 3 years ago?), I visited the natural history museum. Among other exhibits, they had a collection of Fabergé art pieces, notably the eggs.
Up until then, I had presumed that Fabergé was French, but in fact Gustav Fabergé was Baltic German, but founded his jewelry company in Saint Petersburg. (The name sounds French and Fabergé’s sons founded the “Fabergé, Paris” line to distinguish themselves from their father.)
Under Tsar Alexander III, Fabergé was to make an “Easter egg” for the Empress, which led to making it an annual gift. Others then liked the idea and Fabergé made many eggs. Each is so detailed and delicate, it must have taken his workers months to make each one.
Looking at some of the paintings, I cannot see any brushstrokes, they are immaculate.
The Fabergé Museum is housed in a palace and contains over 4000 pieces. All the Imperial Easter eggs are connected to the rule of the last two Tsars. They have 9 Imperial eggs, only the Kremlin has a larger collection.
I have visited all of the specific places that I had intended, or at least tried.
This is Sunday, so many things are probably not going to be open anyway. I’m going to take a light day, just find a nice park and watch the people.
But first, I made a count of my money, uh oh, I’ve spent faster that I should have. I have $557 in my wallet and head out to a currency exchange.
There is but a single teller, but no one else in line. I hand her my cash and specify I need rubles. She starts by going through and looking at the backs of each, removing a couple of twenties. Then inspects the fronts, discarding a few more and my hundred.
She then runs the rest under a UV light, nothing bad this time. She hands me the $180 and then the whole remainder goes into a mechanical counter. Twice. Pointing at the displayed total, I guess she said something about “is it right?” I just nod.
She then punches into a calculator, then turns it to me, I had done a quick exchange on my iPad app, it looks close enough, so I nod again. Apps do not give exchange rates, they only give average rates. If I were a huge bank making a transaction with another bank, I’d get better than what the app says.
My app said the 29,000 rubles is worth $334.92, so I lost about $2. I’ll just call that a transaction fee. Strange though how it came to such an exact even thousand amount. I thought I’d end up with some coins. I bet they always round down to the nearest 50 ruble.
After another count and calculation, I now have about 3700 rubles per day, way better than the 550/day I had a few minutes ago. Plus I still have the $180, so maybe another exchange will accept the bills.
Now food.
I am near my room, but I haven’t been in this location yet, so I start walking opposite to my arrival, seeking a restaurant.
Without a specified destination, I wander the streets. If a side street looks more interesting, then I turn, otherwise I go straight. Sometimes the best plans are to have no plan.
I see a blue dome over the rooftops, so I make a general aim for that, but without seeing it always, it is just a guideline, but I find it anyway.
It seems to be a church of some type, but it has two obelisks, made of cannons. Strange message for a peaceful organization. Perhaps it is a symbol to melt down all the world’s cannons.
The doors are closed, probably a Sunday service, but I hear nothing.
I remember seeing something while on the bus coming into town, a huge victory monument. That seems like something I should check out. Check the map, I ‘m only a few blocks from the metro. I exit and proceed to walk down the road, heading into an area that I already know has no lines. I will have to return the same distance no matter what.
If this isn’t a Soviet building, I don’t know what is.
There is a large round-about, over 6 major roads circulating, the memorial is in the center. The round-about must be 3 acres, the memorial is centered, clearly viewed by everyone who passes.
I see quite a few roadways in Saint Petersburg that have short tunnels for the pedestrian to cross busy roads. Fortunately, there is one here too.
It is some statuary, showing the brave soldiers who defeated the Nazis, all by themselves. Its not like any other
countries were in the war, right?It has a ringlike structure, with stairs descending. There are “eternal” flames along the inner ring. A door on the side leads me into a museum, highlighting some of the siege of Leningrad (the city’s name at the time). While not as bad as the siege of Stalingrad (now Volgograd), I remember hearing of it in school.
There are children grouped around, watching a film about the siege. Many artifacts are displayed around the walls and in cases in the middle.
A group of soldiers is here, whether on protection duty or just visiting, I don’t know. It is the largest group I’ve seen yet, maybe 25.
One section of the wall has, I presume, names of the fallen. Each end wall is covered in a mosaic mural, depicting the bravery and valor of the men.
Whatever you think about other countries, you need to remember most of the conflicts come from the governments. The ordinary people are the pawns who are required to go off and fight and die for the petty politicians, who are too inept to do anything themselves. The ordinary people are just trying to protect their own families.
It must seem strange that I traveled thousands of miles and spent a lot of money and then I purposely start off my day going to a junkyard.
This is Nelson’s Courtyard. Just an eclectic assortment of random items, that have been painted in bright colors, and have messages all over.
I find the address easily enough, passing through a drive area. Around the corner, I see first of the items.
There is a man (later find out it is Nelson) repainting one of the items, and talking with a couple ladies. While taking photos, a white dog comes ambling up, I presumed it was a stray, but now I believe it to be Nelson’s.
He came over and wanted to shake my hand. I said I was from America and Florida. He seemed impressed, I don’t know if any Americans had been there before. It is possible that with anyone I meet, I could be the only American they will ever meet. That’s a lot of responsibility.
He indicated a entryway down, which I thought was more of the exhibit. Nope, it was his home, a small bomb shelter someone had built in the cold war. I had to duck as I entered, because the door was only little over four feet tall. The walls and ceiling were painted over with numerous messages.
He sat and indicated he wanted us to sit also. He had a guitar and proceeded to serenade us with song. He performed several songs, speaking between some.
I see his name on his computer screen, in Cyrillic, so I know it was likely him.
After a bit, I guess he said something to upset the lady, she was a bit harsher sounding than a few moments ago. They got up to leave and I followed. I was really wondering how I was going to get out without injuring feelings or having to donate.
NOTE: After I returned, I see the page for the courtyard states it is permanently closed. The photos are of the same area, most stuff is gone. I don’t know what happened to all the other stuff. I wish I had noticed that beforehand, so I could ask. But If I had, I would not have gone.
On my way back to the metro, I pass by Leningradskiy Zoopark. Being Saturday, there are large numbers of people here.
Looking at the weather, I had chosen not to wear my jacket today. A good choice as it would reach 68F, cool but tolerable. But still all I see are people all bundled up. It makes me feel like a Yankee in Florida, despite these people should be used to the cold.
Saint Petersburg Mosque, one of the largest in Europe
Many kids playing in the grass or running on the paths. A group were playing with bubble wands. In one area, I find some bronze miniature buildings. I spot St Basil’s Cathedral and a couple others I’ve seen somewhere.
I also see a building I just saw yesterday. Outside the Heritage Museum is palace square and on the out side of the square it a building curves around it. I little girl was crawling through it as I tried to photograph it.
The park contains the Saint Petersburg Zoo. I consider, but I’m sure they have nothing I haven’t seen here.
I need to go find out information, so I decide to visit the Grand Maket Russia. Killing two birds, so to speak.
Several metro stops and a brisk walk later, I find it. It is a huge miniature of various Russian areas, including Moscow and Saint Petersburg.
The room is large enough, you can’t see the other end.
There are moving trains and road vehicles, flashing lights, a working geyser, construction vehicles, etc.
The people are so tiny, but still detailed. Everything is as accurate as can be. There were chickens that moved around, but only about 1/8 inch in size, crazy details.
I am also near the bus stop where I need to catch the bus to the airport, in a few days.
I already know I need the #39 bus, but I don’t know if I can pay as I get on, or do I need to purchase ticket in advance.
There are dozens of buses there. The stop is on the edge of a busy road, and buses keep pulling in just as another pulls out.
I already have my question typed into translator, but I notice right away that the drivers are segregated in their own little compartments. I have no way to ask the drivers anything.
Finally, go to a small stand and ask, she calls someone and the answer is I can use a card on the bus. Not a solution and I say so. She then takes me down to the other end of the block, leaving her stand unguarded, to a ticket booth. Yes, I will not have to walk all the way to the airport dragging my luggage.
As I was planning to return to my room, I decided to try John Lennon street again, it was early enough that I might have success.
I did, of a sort. I returned to the alley and the gate that stopped me was open.
No Beatles, though. Well there was an image of John along with some other artists who died young. There is an anarchist bar behind the gate also.
I still don’t know if I was in the right area, but I did find something interesting.
The artists are: Kenneth Hensely (Uriah Heep), Jim Morrison (the Doors), Mikhail Gorsheniov (Korol i Shut), Sid Vicious (the Sex Pistols), Cliff Burton (Metalica), Yuri Klinskikh (Sektor Gaza), Jimi Hendrix, Ronnie Dio (Black Sabbath and Heaven & Hell), Freddie Mercury (Queen), Elvis Presley, Egor Letov (Grazhdanskaya Oborona), Kurt Cobain (Nirvana), Keith Flint (the Prodigy), Viktor Tsoi (Kino), Chester Bennington (Linkin Park and Stone Temple Pilots), John Lennon (the Beatles).
After a nice shower, I looked at my saved locations. Oh, there is a museum I had wanted to visit. Not too far away.
Back in 1997, I went to my favorite theater, the Enzian, in Orlando. On this occasion, I saw a film starring Jeremy Irons, Dominique Swain, Melanie Griffith, and Frank Langella, called “Lolita.” It was originally a book by Russian author Vladimir Nabokov.
There happens to be a museum dedicated just to him, in the very house where he was born.
I enter and step up to a small desk with a computer on it. After a minute a lady comes out and points to a QR code, I use my iPad camera and open the link, but it is all in Russian. What I do gather is it is a way to purchase a ticket online with card.
I can’t (and don’t want to) use a card. I use translator to ask if I can pay cash. Apparently nyet, but she has me write down my name and email and takes the payment in cash, then she says she will pay online for me. Weird, just take my money and let me in. I don’t even care if the museum gets it.
She then asks if I would like to see a film about Nabokov, in English. Sure why not.
It is a interview from the BBC, 1962, called “30 minutes with Vladimir Nabokov.” I didn’t intend on watching a half hour, but it was somewhat interesting, so I watched. He stated he had color synesthesia (not in that term, maybe it wasn’t used in ’62), which is a condition where one perceives colors associated with numbers and/or letters.
I then browsed through the rest of the museum’s items, mostly photos of him and his family. There were also many games shown, he really liked playing chess, Scrabble, and other “thinking” games.
He was also an amateur lepidopterist, a collector of butterflies. Most of his specimens are on display.
There were many, many copies of his books, English, Russian, French, etc. He actually lived most of his life in USA, and wrote most of his books in English. He self translated Lolita into Russian. I had thought it was Russian to start.
As I said, I saw the 1997 film, but I also saw a Stanley Kubrick version from 1962, starring James Mason, Shelley Winters, Peter Sellers and Sue Lyon. With Sellers, I guess they thought the film needed some comic relief due to the theme.
I also found an unopened audiobook version at a yard sale, so I bought it. It was quite good.
After, I made another look at the map and there was another museum near, the Kunstkamera. I knew it as the oddity museum.
The majority of the collection is just anthropological items from ancient Inuits, American indians, Chinese, Koreans and Africans. But as this building was once home to the science society, it also now includes science and medical tools, along side human and animal specimens. It includes some medical curiosities, like a two-headed pig, which you can now view the skeleton.
Across the river was the Hermitage Museum, founded by Catherine the Great to house many of her artworks. Yes, nothing like having so much art, you are forced to have a huge mansion built just for them. The problems of the elite, I feel your pain sister.
Like the Louvre, I don’t think anyone can see the whole thing in one trip. There are rooms off of other rooms, halls that have expanse. Even with a map, I’m sure you’d still miss some rooms.
There are many Roman pieces, including busts of several Emperors. Also Egyptian works, not Tut’s or other pyramid stuff, more Roman and pre-Roman time periods.
There is a table with a lapis lazuli top, if you could find a piece that big today, it would run you tens of millions. Another had multi-stone inlays making a image. Certainly took time to produce.
Many marble “bowls” that are taller than me. I have to presume they were bird baths that you’d have in your garden and look down at them from your balcony.
Three items on my list and three successes. Hurray!
Hunger was getting to me, so I searched for restaurants. My eye immediately landed on Cafe Rasputin, I had to go.
I had a house specialty salad and a traditional meat soup. Both were good.
I awaken the next morning, ready to take the city on. Looking at my saved places, it seems none open until 10 or 11.
I decide if I am going to try the metro today, I might as well go to the farthest place, then I can work my way back.
Lakhta Tower is a spire skyscraper on the edge of the Sea of Finland, and it is at the last station, Begovaya, on the green line.
I enter the metro, scan my card, and proceed. I was worried that the card I bought, still needed to be “charged up”.
It was rush hour, so quite busy. I’m in no rush, so I walk along the walls to keep out of other’s way.
The London Underground has a station with a very long escalator, one I fell on. Nevsky Prospekt had an even longer one, we must be 400 ft below the surface.
I find the correct platform and get on the next train. The stops are quite far apart, I think mostly due to traveling under an island.
Lakhta Tower
As I exit, I see a building with large lettering, “Atlantic City.” Uh oh, I ended up in New Jersey.
It is surprising how many western company names there are, all seem to be in Latin characters. KFC, Coke, McDonalds, Bulgari, John Frieda, Spar, etc.
I pull out the map, but Google is saying I’m at Rybatskoye, which is at the other end of the line. Weird that a random GPS fix would have been that specifically wrong. I definitely knew I wasn’t there, but I could imagine someone freaking out that they’d gone the wrong way.
The tower is a 22 minute walk away.
I see a section of road with a very skimpy fence across it, with razor wire. There is another fence about 30 yards beyond. There is nothing to stop anyone from just walking around the fence, nor an evidence they are doing any work on that section. I do not think it would stop anyone determined to drive through it.
I do notice they love their razor wire. It is everywhere, just about every fence, across the rooftops between buildings, around road support pillars…
I’m hoping to go to the top and check out the view, maybe there is an observation deck. I don’t get to find out, there is a fence around the building. They are still working on it.
Strike #2. Not doing too good on my chosen locations.
A park lay on the way back to the station, so I browsed through. Many people out with dogs. I saw a kid on a swing, at 9:30. Why wasn’t he in school?
Each subway station has its own theme or design. I had the idea of stopping and seeing each. I only did a few before I realize that I’ll waste too much time doing that.
I exit the metro, and spot a Spar grocery. I need shampoo, so I browse. I picked up the smallest bottle they had, I hope I can get it through airport security to Moscow. I’d hate to have to buy another, even if it is cheap.
I also grabbed a bottle of grapefruit juice, payed, and exited.
As I open the bottle, nope, it is grapefruit soda. I drink it anyway.
The irony is, my hair is too short to bother with washing too often, but I can use it as body wash. As I left for Georgia, my hair started poking up in one area. I had thought about cutting it before, but it should be good for a few more weeks. Now, it is too short to comb, but long enough to look messy if I don’t.
