St. Petersburg

Russia is another world. It reminds us of when we traveled through Eastern europe - only more difficult. The language barrier presents a constant problem. Having a Russian phrase book here is a must.

We are staying at a homestay, organized through a tour agent we found on the web before we left home. He was a bit vague on how to get here (unless of course we wanted to pay his $40 pick-up charge at the airport). We didn't think a 10 mile trip into the city was worth that so we opted for the experience of the local bus and metro. The only thing we had to go on was a street name and a code (268) - whatever that meant.

So, we set off.

First, the bus ride. Buses are old and decrepit here, but I kind of expected that. The fee system is similar to other parts of the non-Western world. People crowd on, and then, after there is no room left to squeeze in another elbow, the ticket person pushes through the throngs to collect money. I had one hand on the rail, holding on for dear life, and one hand digging into my pocket for the 12 cents. Then I had to find my pocket again to stuff in that tiny bit of paper ticket I got in return. Next stop, more people and the ticket person does it all again.

I suppose our large white backpacks made us memorable (everyone else here is in dark drab colors). When the ticket lady made her second pass, we didn't have to produce the tickets as proof that we'de paid. Good thing - by that time my pocket was lost in a sea of hips.

Now for the Metro. When Russia says underground, they mean it. We descended about 200 feet on one escalator.(John's altitude watch is used for more than just mountain climbs). The descention and ascentions are so long that people have time to relax...and let's see...I saw people reading books, making out, doing cross-word puzzles, sleeping, and talking (one person stands backwards on the steps). A lot of people just step onto the escalator backwards to avoid having to turn while in motion - I tried this...it is a skill I have not yet mastered. And forget hanging on for the 5 minute ride. The hand rails and the steps don't move at the same rate.

Once underground we had to read the Russian signs - of course first we had to find them. We stood staring at signs sounding out the Russian symbols while trains came and went. "I'm pertty sure it's this one, John." Then we dodged all the people getting off the train in order to get on. No one queues here, they pile on before letting anyone off. It's a mad free for all. You have to be nimble of foot, and sharp of elbow to get off at your stop.

But, that's all assuming you can recognize your stop when it does appear, for that brief moment between bodies with the train doors open. Most of the stations here are not open platforms. They are tunnels with sliding doors between walled segments. So you don't see the train until the doors open. And when the doors did open if the station name didn't line up with my window of viewing opportunity - well...forget it - it was too late anyway. We keep careful count of the number of stops each time we ride.

The people who ride the subway don't smile. No one smiles. Everyone seems anxious to just move through life. They sit on the metro with scowls on, reading, drinking their beer (yes, drinking anywhere is accepted) or just staring into space. We stood out like sore thumbs in our bright colors. And, we were smiling.

OK, so we managed to negotiate the Metro, get to the right street, and find the building that we were suppose to stay in, and get down a dark back alley to the entrance, and even to figure out that the 268 code was for unlocking the door. Whew! We climed 6 stories up (afraid to use the elevator) and stood outside door #12. It was 11:00 at night. Would anyone be up? Sure enough. With the sun only pseudo setting for about 3 hours a day, no one seems to sleep in this town.

We were welcomed to the home of Tamaya and her daugter Maria. It was very interesting staying with a Russian family. Tamaya speaks no English, her daughter a little (but she was never home). We communicated by sign language and phrases from my Lonely Planet phrase book. Tamaya is an artist. She makes miniature clay figures and paints. She made us each a character and we gave her chocolate in return. All in all a neat experience.

Tomorrow we explore the city. "Get some sleep John, the sun comes up in 3 hours."