Moscow on a bus

Typical bus for getting around

Being a closet snob, I have always hated and tried to avoid using public transport of any kind. I try to only use it if the public transport is exotic like a Tuk tuk in Bangkok or a river boat trip down a lily covered river. Marshrutka's the yellow buses (also available in white) are a cheap way to get around Moscow. I am only human and therefor forced to use buses and like everyone else, I have to share my private body space with others to get around this big city. Moscow is jam packed with people and with cars, any transport is difficult and time consuming. The metro is fast and efficient but can only go to a certain point on your journey. You can either drive in your own car, take a taxi or walk. I don't recommend driving or taking a taxi unless it's on a weekend and unless you absolutely have to. 

These yellow buses are not luxury, modern or very comfortable but they are regular and very cheap. They are driven by men from far away places, that used to be part of the happy family that was the 'USSR'. Wait on the pavement and then get on the bus that you need. If you don't speak Russian, get a friend to tell you what bus to get on and where to get off. The bus I take costs just 25 rubles. Try to have the correct change and put your money on the blanket, that's next to the driver and find a seat. Some buses stink of petrol and the seats are often dirty and ripped. The buses can get fairly full and sometimes you will be like a sardine in a petrol can, gasping for fresh air. I always get stuck sat next to a person that has either drunk many beers, not washed for a week or who ate two hundred garlic cloves for breakfast. These people could scare away Dracula or advertise soap products. Sit next to a window, open it fully and breath.

I always get on a yellow bus with the number (just for example) 120 going to the last bus stop. Sometimes it goes there and sometimes is does not. On three or four occasions, it did not go to the end, to the last stop but stopped well before it. I got off the bus and was told by the driver that I must get on another yellow bus with the same number 120 but get on a bigger yellow bus as only the big yellow ones go to the last bus stop. The little ones(see photo above), same colour, same number, stop well before the end stop. This week, I found that it's true, only the big yellow ones go to the end. I know this seems crazy but it's true. Russian logic strikes again. Laugh here or you will cry or go mad. I don't make this shit up.

If you don't want to take a yellow bus, try a trolley buses they are bigger and can even be modern! Pay the driver about 26 rubles and he or she will give you a ticket, stick the ticket into the machine and find a seat. In Moscow, taking a bus can be slower than walking. Idiot, arrogant drivers, park along the sides of the huge roads, sometimes double parking, so the buses get blocked behind them. The buses stop at every bus stop and there seems to be a bus stop every few meters, so journeys can be slow and worse during the rush hour. You can always get on a trolley bus or yellow bus and get off if it gets stuck in traffic and walk. 

In a perverse way, I quiet like taking the yellow buses, you get to see real people, real Russians and on a good traffic free day, the buses fly along the road at high speed so it can be an adventure and a fairground ride of death. You will be shaken around like a pea in a tin, thrown up in the air as the bus goes over road ramps, flung against your fellow passenger as the bus goes around the corner. My advice is listen to calming music and look out the window, your journey will be a lot more pleasant.  The Moscow bus system was deigned for a different Moscow. It was designed for a Moscow of the last century when there was less traffic and the nation had a dream and an ideal to aim for, even if it was badly flawed. Few people owned cars and the roads were a lot better than they are today, almost empty if you look at old photos of Moscow. Days now long gone.

Poor old Moscow is creaking to a halt, the authorities refuse to act to reduce the traffic and Russia is the number one customer for sales in Land Rover, Bentley and other huge gas guzzling cars. Despite their faults, I think taking a bus is a lot better than taking the a metro train. On a bus, you get daylight and can open a window to breath clean traffic air that is better than metro tunnel air, you can usually get a seat and have better personal space. If you live on a bus route that's direct, take the bus and ditch the metro.

© All Rights Reserved.

The bear returns

Yesterday, I went running with my kid down to the Olympic stadium by the river here in Moscow. I pushed my kid in his pushchair stroller. He sits there happily eating a chocolate bar looking at the river as his father pants and sweats behind him. I get bewildered looks from Russian's not used to seeing a man with a pushchair or a man running with a child. Both fairly alien concepts in a place like Moscow. We often do this run and both enjoy it. The stadium is a vast Olympic area with tennis courts, football pitches and the area has a huge football stadium. We often do three to four laps of the football stadium. Recently, the area has been blocked off and shut. last time we went there, the entire area was fenced off and men in gray uniforms that guarded the entire stadium perimeter for reasons, I will never really know.

Yesterday, on Saturday, we reached the river and ran along the road that leads to the stadium and I saw many traffic cops standing along the road that goes to the Olympic area. Long black cars would fly by, fronted by a police car with flashing blue lights. Then when we reached the entrance to the running path at the stadium, we were blocked by two men wearing black leather jackets, they had blue and white camouflage clothes and looked angry. I have never known what these men are? They are not traffic cops or regular police, you often see them standing outside expensive restaurants holding Uzi sub machine guns. There was a sign saying 'Road closed, private party' (there was not but there should have been a been a sign saying this). As I approached, these men told just told us simple a 'no' I took my music headphones out of my ears and asked them why? They said again "no". I called them wankers, knowing they would not understand me, turned around and ran back the way I had just come pushing my kid along in fuming anger. The reason I run at the stadium, is the air is fresher and it's a very nice place to jog. Why should Putin stop me! How dare he do this.

As we ran along the river, going back the way we had come, we saw car after car driving along with flashing blue lights. Then one long black car flew past us. It was flanked by at least seven cop cars with flashing blue lights. The back seat passenger windows had closed curtains, its important occupant not wanting to to see the real world that lives outside the security of his leather guarded palace on wheels. When I got home and by coincidence, I read the newspaper, and then realized why the stadium and the road had been shut off and so tightly guarded by black leather jacketed thugs. Putin had made a speech by invitation only, to a paid and loyal crowd and to a selected media informing them that he was electing himself again as president, to continue with his one party democratic dictatorship, maintaining his iron grip on the country for many more years to come.

For obvious reasons, I don't get too political on an Internet blog, while I am living in the country that I blog about. I would not want to end up as tree fertilizer or to be deported in a box, however Mr Putin remains an enigma to me and to many across the world. He is rarely seen smiling and seems to run the country with force. However, he is popular with many Russians and very unpopular with some. I have often asked many different Russian's what they think of him and many told me like him while some seemed afraid to say anything bad about him, as if the room was bugged. Putin has been strong and good for Russia, he has made it an energy giant and built up the economy, while the school and hospital systems lay very much as they were during the soviet area looking like museum pieces in today's modern society. Russian corruption and vast social problems of poverty continue in part, largely unnoticed or uncared for by those at every level in power, as they live their movie star, self indulgent lives.

Putin is a very wealthy man, as is his pal Dmitry Medvedev. Many other political and public figures in Russia are also very wealthy. No one is really sure how they have amassed such wealth but everyone has a good suspicion, however no one dares to ask any deep and direct questions regarding this wealth as they all want a part of it. Love him or hate him, ex KGB man Putin has been good for Russia and is a strong dictatorial leader. The United Kingdom, needs strong, tough leadership and I respect Vladimir Putin for what he done for the country, although, I don't know that I would drink a beer with him and would not want to make him angry if I worked for him. Despite his reputation, Putin has focus and determination and gets things done with a large stick, rather than with a soft feather.

Russian's are very nationalistic and proud about their country. This pride, real or imagined, is reinforced by institutional pomp and ceremony that happens many times each year on national holidays and on national days of ceremony. It helps keep the masses calm and sells a propaganda and a belief that large populations need to maintain social harmony. Again, I don't like nationalism but I now understand that populations need it. Look at my own country, It's in a total mess and is a total joke, we need a man like Putin to whip it into shape as soon as possible and take it screaming and kicking into adulthood and into a position of international strength. The weakness in the United Kingdom, happened long before the economic crisis, caused by weak leadership, the Human Rights Act and ridiculous EU laws.

I went back running today without my kid and it was all open again. I have got my running route back.

You may like these photos. Mobile phone users see blog roll

© All Rights Reserved.

Gorollia Man and Spitting Buddha

I was forced to join a new gym here in sunny Moscow. You may rightly assume that a gym is a luxury and only for those with spare money and spare time and I would usually agree with you but here in Moscow if you want to keep fit, then a gym is your only real option. This is because of the long icy winters, where running outside would be unsafe, the parks have some wild dogs in them and drunks that shout abuse at you as you run by.  A gym is a necessity rather than a luxury. I was economically evicted from my last gym in Moscow as Madonna decided to buy the club, she shut it down, gave it a face lift and put up the prices well beyond the reach of most normal people. It is now strictly for the Moscow 'Louis Vuitton' club set and Moscow is full of Louis Vuittoners.

Gyms are fantastic places to people watch on a safari of observation, even if you don't want to go on the safari. The new gym that I go, whose location is a guarded state secret, has so may exercise machines that I don't know what 90% of them actually do. I run on the treadmill that is highly boring, go upstairs and do my belly sit ups. The exercise area has a full size boxing ring where eccentric Russian's go and play out their Sylvester Stallone or Fight Club fantasies. Grown men bounce about often alone in the ring, shadow boxing a fantasy partner or box a paid opponent in the form of a gym instructor. Some of these men are fat and middle aged. I lay on the floor, on a mat next to the boxing ring as its the only place to do that kind of exercise in the fitness area. I do leg raises to the pleasant sounds of grunts coming from the boxing ring and then move to another area to use the sit up machine. Women with over inflated breasts and puffy injected lips, walk by me with wobbling tits and leg cellulite. I try to block them out from my view but always fail.

Since I joined this gym, two men have stood out as targets for people observational analysis. They are unaware of my opinion and of my examination of them. Every time I go to the exercise area, there is one man doing chins up on a a bar or lifting weights while he looks in a mirror, he wears a thin vest and has sweat bands on each wrist. I call him 'Gorilla Man', he is bald, muscular and has a light fake tan. He looks like the type who jerk off to their own reflection and who shaves his chest hairs. He would be happy with a bottle blond on each of his arms, wearing very short skirts and who giggle like school girls at his every joke.

I accept the fact that people will do weight training and this is fine, people will keep fit this is normal but this man made me see red from the first time I saw him at the gym. I often see him in the men's locker room, not because I want to but because he is there. He wears tight Scottish tartan pants and has a shaved bald head. What makes me me so annoyed, is that he shaves his head in the communal changing room sink. This is disgusting and a private act of cleanliness, not to be sheared with others thank you very much. He looks mean and probably is mean. I know it's all to easy to pass judgement on others and maybe I am wrong and he is a dance instructor, florist or a leading Physics professor but I very much doubt it. He probably works in club security, private protection and beats people up for a living. He probably enjoys his job. After he has finished in the gym, he swims. Not normal up and down swimming, like most of us do. Gorilla Man swims up and down in a fast butterfly stroke, fist punching the water, sending waves over the edge of the pool and almost hitting anyone else who happens to be in his swimming path. When he has finished water punching, he bobs up and down out of the water at the end of the swimming lane, snorting water out from his nose like an angry hippopotamus looking for a Mrs hippopotamus. I think he has anger or hair loss issues.

The second man at the gym, is physically the opposite to Gorilla Man, I call him 'Spitting Buddha'. The club has a swimming pool. At the swimming pool you can lay on a chair and relax and I often do after a hard days work at the nanny construction site. One day, I was just laying on a chair by the pool, chilling out watching the swimmers, when I spotted Spitting Buddha. He is, as his name suggests, very fat and loves to spit. He stands in the water, at the pools edge. He wears an elastic swimming hat, although he is mostly bald. He makes piggy noises and snorts air up his nose and spits out the contents of his nose, like a snake spitting venom, into the pools plastic drain that runs around the pool perimeter. When he gets out of the pool, his breasts flap about and hang down like old cows udders. His body looks as if someone has thrown a bag of black grass seed over his entire body. Fine black hair covers his entire back, chest, arms and legs like the amazon rain forest. I have seen him many times doing this spitting and I have given him my darkest most disgusted looks but it made absolutely no difference because he does it with enthusiasm and does not care what people think. I see these two men, Gorilla Man and Spitting Buddha every time I go to the gym.

I have now taken on a new sanity survival tactic so as not to get too annoyed by these two men. I walk through the gym with my eyes fixed straight ahead, I don't look at the gym posers or at those two anymore, I just do my exercises and leave. It's the only way not to get annoyed, although at gyms you really do see every type of person and every stereotype, good and bad even if you are not looking to see such types. Some types just slap you around the face and shout 'hay look at me pal, I'm gonna annoy you'.

Mobile phone users see blog roll

© All Rights Reserved.

Moscow marathon 2011

It was a sunny day on Sunday, perfect for some light exercise. My mission, was to run 10 km in the Moscow marathon, not a long way but long enough for a beginner. I met with some friends at the starting point. A band was playing brass band music and the atmosphere was happy and relaxed. We left our backpacks in a tent and pinned on our race numbers onto our running tops. Everyone began to run from the start and people cheered and smiled as they began the marathon. At the start of the race there were a lot of people running in a tight untidy pack, we had to be careful not to crash into people in front of us and to the side of us. After a while, the chaotic pack thinned out and the smokers and unfit were left far behind. We cruised ahead and chatted at the same time enjoying the race and the challenge. We were not running to be the best or to be the first but we were running for fun and for the experience. This is how it should be. Life is competitive enough, chill out and relax.

A man ran past me carrying a large sack of sugar on his shoulders. Maybe he was running for a good cause or for his sins? Another man ran in front of me without any shoes on, perhaps he had forgotten them or maybe he was just crazy? A pretty girl ran in front of me wearing tight black shorts and a low cut running top, I fixed my eyes on her two buns that swayed from side to side and up and down. I ran behind her like a dog after a butchers van, she inspired me to run which is rather ironic since one of the sponsors of the race was for erectile dysfunction, something dear reader that I don't suffer from. The route was a bit boring. It was along the river and just did loops of the same route. If you ran the full marathon, you would have to run three loops, if you ran 10 km, it was just one loop and all run on easy flat ground.

I felt good, like a sex machine and was running on a full battery charge. Body in perfect tune like a top sports car or maybe just a Russian Lada. It was interesting to see the different people running, old, young, pretty, fit, thin and fat. It was my first marathon and I loved it. When we got to the finish, after just an hour, the smooth flow of people suddenly stopped like a Lada going up hill. A bottle neck of body traffic amassed at the finish line as people waited to collect their fake gold medal and free gifts. People stood in line to collect a medal, then a certificate, then a key ring then a cake and drink (that they had run out of), then a plastic carrier bag to put it all in. I don't know why the organizers didn't just put it all in one plastic bag and hand it to people? It would have been quicker, again we see the famous Russian logic and Russian organization. Apart from the last part and the finish fiasco, the race was excellent fun and I recommend anyone who is fit to try it or at least try a marathon somewhere, sometime in your life. You don't have to run the whole thing or be competitive, just do it for fun, for a charity or for yourself.

© All Rights Reserved.

A tale of two doctors

In Russia, perhaps the best way to get fast medical treatment is to put your hand in your pocket and pay hard cash. I had an ear problem that went on for about six months without being cured. I would keep going back to a clinic and see an ear doctor. At the clinic, I found that the older the doctor was, the least they seemed to care, perhaps they are tired and underpaid? Eventually, I found a younger doctor at the same clinic who cared and who was professional. The clinic I use, is not one the fancy high priced clinics that legally print their own bank notes but a private public Russian clinic. It does not have frills or attractive doctors with bright white teeth who drive fast cars or who recommend many pointless and unnecessary blood tests, it does not have a plasma TV on the wall or a choice of glossy magazines to read through while you wait but it does have a fair price and fast service. The downside is they can't cope with complex medical issues and can be moody and grumpy. The secret is as with any where in the world these days, is to find a doctor you like, who is human and who you can trust. Many doctors treat you like a faceless peace of meat and when you have a langauge barrier it can be almost impossible.

My young ear doctor tried very hard and prescribed me many treatments such as drops and antibiotic's but nothing would clear my ear of its blockage. He eventually told me that my ear drum had collapsed and was stuck to my ear wall, like a deflated, empty party balloon, his English was poor so I did not push for greater explanation. He recommended me to see his friend, who is another ear doctor, at another hospital in Moscow 'as used by Putin' or so the web page of this recommended doctor suggested. I paid my fee to the young doctor at the clinic and will claim some of it back from my insurance company once I have had my insurance forms stamped in triplicate and had multiple signatures in blood.

I went the next week, to see the new ear doctor. After negotiating my way past the hospital security guard, in what seemed to me like trying to enter North Korea, I eventually got into the hospital and found the doctor at the end of a dark corridor.  The hospital looked like it was stuck in a 1960's time warp and reminded me of some hospitals in my own country. I sat in the corridor waiting to go in. Hospital patients would hobble past me with entire legs wrapped up in bandages, others would drift by in different states of bandaged wrapping, some looking like badly dressed Egyptian mummies, some looking like mummies in wheel chairs. They reminded me of when little children play doctors and nurses on each other and wrap up their friends in lose bandages from their toy shop medical bags. Seeing these people made me nervous and I wanted to leave the hospital 'tout de suite' but desperation kept me nailed to my seat.

At last, a sweaty doctor arrived with one ear on his mobile, he shook my hand and showed me into his examination room. The room had three scruffy chairs in it that looked like over sized dentists chairs. People were sitting in them and his examination room looked as bad as the rest of the hospital. I sat in my chair, like a convict on his execution day as the doctor looked into my ear tunnel. He confirmed what his friend, the other doctor had said and told me to go with the nurse to get my hearing tested. The nurse sat me down with a window behind me, her testing room was on the ground floor and outside there were men working on the building and a loud motor lift went up and down carrying bricks to the roof,  I had trouble to hear the nurse speak. She sat opposite me, with a device that looked like an old Soviet submarine radar. She told me to push a button on the end of cable whenever I heard an electronic beep noise. It was easy, since she was sitting opposite me and I could see when she pushed her dial to make the beep noise. Russian logic or bad testing room design? After she had finished, she gave me a printout with funny graphs on it and sent me back into see the ear doctor.

My doctor looked at the printout results for only a second, threw it away and bluntly told me I needed an operation. He looked in my ear again and said my ear had "bad ventilation" as if it was a blocked chimney and told me he would put a tube in my ear drum, I did not question his diagnosis as it was all a bit surreal to me as if I was stuck in a strange hospital dream trapped in a 1960's comedy TV show. I asked him if it would hurt? He said "no" and told me he could do it now! When you are told by a doctor, that they can do it now, rather than wait days, weeks or months, you go for it like a man on his wedding night, I did not think about it. He injected my ear to make it numb and stuck the tube in my ear drum, "you have a thick drum" he said as he pierced it with a long bendy needle. Surprisingly, It was painless and took just fifteen minutes to do. After he had finished, he said "I clean it with Vodka and  you must pay me now", I asked him how much? He said "It's good for me but bad for you". I paid him 5,000 Rubles (Just over 100 pounds) that I withdrew from the cash machine inside the hospital. This operation was done without any insurance and I left. Insurance forms are not part of the unofficial process in situations like that. You pay cash, the doctor is happy, you are happy, the job is done.

Three weeks later, my ear is perfect and my hearing is great. I like this payment system and wish we had it in the United Kingdom, bribery can be fun. I am very happy not to have paid one of the big greedy expat clinics here and I am very happy to have seen this doctor. Paying him the cash was an excellent decision and I would recommend other expats to follow this system. See a recommended Russian doctor, pay him cash and trust him. All will be fine. If I had gone to one of the fancy clinics here, who's names you can easily search for on Google, I would have waited, been kept in over night and paid several thousand Euro for the same procedure! One point to me, zero points to the greedy, thieving bastards. I have saved the tax payer and the insurance company money. My conscience is clean.

© All Rights Reserved.

Day dreams and zoos

We drive silently to the zoo, I'm working as a nanny today. My bottom is gently caressed by the soft cream leather of the back car seat. We are driving on a fluffy mattress of utter loveliness, as driven by the queen of England and by rich Russians. The Rolls-Royce is very comfortable and sound proof to the outside world. Child X sits next to me making raspberry noises and looking out of the tinted car window. Mrs X sits in the front seat. Her red painted nails gently tap on her ipad screen, I can smell her perfume as the air-cars con blows it back in my face. The driver, drives ahead with confidence and with a kind of defeated acceptance of his role in life.

We reach a smart part of town and Mrs X pops out to shop while driver, child X and I wait, the driver smokes a cigarette, he looks too thin. She soon comes back heavily loaded with expensive looking paper bags with designer names that I have never seen as I am a slob to fashion, rather than a slave to it. People walk past the car with different looks. Some look at us with admiration, some look at us with admiration and jealousy and some just look jealous. It's an experience to be driven in a Rolls-Royce. Your mind plays out fantasies. You are a powerful boss, a lottery winner, a billionaire, a gangster, a movie celebrity. Life is sweet and there are no worries about the future. A car horn blasts out from another car and snaps me back into my Moscow reality. I am tutor and nanny, this is my job, or at least it is for now. It is not my car or my lifestyle. Car fantasy over.

Our next destination is a private medical clinic. We go inside, it looks more like hotel rather than a clinic. I wait in the waiting area while child X sees the doctor with mum X. I flick through thick glossy yachting magazines. The magazines contain photos of luxury motor boats and huge white yachts. Many look bigger than the average house and have everything the oligarch could need, except love and genuine friends. My mind goes into another spending fantasy as I imagine myself on the deck of one of these yachts. I'm in my warm jacuzzi as the sun sets over the Tahitian yachting marina. I have a beautiful Russian girl in each arm. They giggle sweetly next to me, kissing me on my ear while they feed me champagne and grapes, while I massage their ample breasts with one hand. I have one eye on my laptop looking at my stock share prices while my white gloved butler is holding the laptop on a sliver tray, he is standing next to the jacuzzi, I can smell dinner waiting for me on the deck table, the smell of freshly cooked lobster blows over to me, my butler tells me "dinner is ready sir", I get out the jacuzzi, I put on my soft monogrammed white bathrobe and go over to the dining table. I'm then awoken from my yacht day dream with the softness of concrete brick by a real Russian beauty from the clinics reception. She taps me on the shoulder and asks me if I want a coffee? I say "yes please, milk one sugar". She brings me a tray with a white coffee cup, a bowl of sugar and six fancy biscuits, all individually wrapped in pretty white paper. I leave the biscuits but drink the freshly made coffee, it tastes hot and fresh. I watch the movie Mr and Mrs Smith that's showing on the large plasma television, hanging on the wall of the waiting area. Mrs X arrives back with junior X and we leave the clinic. Fantasies of yachts and a different life blow away, like summer clouds in my mind.

Our second and final destination, is Moscow zoo. The sun is shinning, the sky is blue and it feels like summer in September. It is hot today. A good day for a zoo visit. I have never liked zoos. They are usually concrete prisons with sad, bored, suicidal animals inside. I am not looking forward to seeing this zoo but I know child X will love it, all kids like zoos. We park the Rolls-Royce on the pavement. I get the pram out the car, unstrap child X, while people walk past the car and I feel slightly guilty but then I remember this is not my car or my life. We go into the zoo. Mrs X comes with us. Despite my initial nerves and my determination not to like her. I do like her. Sure she is wealthy but she is a good person and a very good mother. She may have come from a normal family and without money? I don't know and could not ask her that, we have an unspoken boundary that we don't cross. Many Russian's got rich by when it all went belly up, when the free market arrived. She must have married into such money. I find her intelligent and attractive. She is beautiful without being vain, speaks good English and is kind. An unusual combination among the mega rich these days, whatever the country they live in.

We walk past a sad scruffy looking bear who is on his own in a concrete cage. He has an empty lake and sniffs the air in the hope of freedom. We see two Polar bears. One paces back and forth from one spot to another, driven mad by captivity while his friend sleeps in the sun, hardly a natural environment. Every day is the same, people stare at him and he knows every inch of concrete. I know how he feels, as when I first arrived here and was in my full time stay at home dad role, I felt like that bear. The difference is he has people staring at him all day and has no escape, I have an escape. I was in a better situation than he is, zoos should be illegal. The zoo has Baboons, Gorillas, Geese, Zebra, Giraffes and other animals all looking tired, bored and fed up. They look like some people I know and have known in my life, especially the baboons.

Time is up and I leave the zoo, happy to escape these animals. The meter has clocked up four paid hours in my paid childcare role. I head home to see my own child X who is with my own nanny. It's ironic, I am paid more in a few days, than she is in a month. I head off to my gym to run on the tread mill and to watch fat Russian men spitting in the shower. My day and fantasies are over and it will all continue again tomorrow. The power of imagination, what a wonderful thing to have.

Sponsored by Toys for Oligarch children. Mobile phone users see blog roll

© All Rights Reserved.

St.Petersburg and back by train

Imagine two sisters, one is rather ugly with a large nose, hard face and a cold personality. The other has a pretty face, large breasts and a kind personality. The second sister would be St.Petersburg the first sister is Moscow. That's where family and I have just been to and we loved it. We bravely put our toes into the muddy and temperamental waters of Russian tourism again and fell in love with St.Petersburg.

Like the queen of England, I tend to avoid travelling with the unwashed masses but in my opinion trains are romantic, so I make an exception to my rule. We went by train via the Nevsky express going there and came back by the faster Sapsan train service. The first train took four hours forty five minutes and the one coming back took four hours fifteen minutes. When you take the Nevsky express, you get a compartment and share it with other passengers, some of which can be smelly. People board the train with electrical goods and large bags. The train is a little dated and scruffy but is one thousand rubles cheaper than the Sapsan service. The Sapsan train is more modern and you get a seat in a carriage rather than a forced sharing situation of a cabin. Both trains, sell by the seat rather than by the ticket. If you have one small child, he or she can sit on your lap and you will save the price of a seat. The train takes longer than a plane to St.Petersberg but at least you have no check-in and less of a risk from terrorist bombing. On both fast trains, you must show your passport and it's the same with most tourist attractions here. Sometimes, I think it would be faster and easier to enter a third world country than visit anywhere internally in Russia with all the passport checks and copies of copies for tickets that have to be shown on trains, in hotels and at tourist ticket places.

We sat on the train going to St.Petersburg, looking out of the window while green countryside flew past us, the train reaches speeds of up to 200 km. The scenery is mostly trees with a few large lakes. Along the way, I noticed many wooden houses that looked as if they were about to fall over, but these houses had vegetable gardens and looked inhabited. It's amazing that people actually live like that but they have to, at least they have fresh air and nature, if nothing else. The train carriage smelt of old farts and coffee but it was refreshing to see greenery and to be rocked gently back and forth by the moving train, washing away all stresses of Moscow living.

We stayed at a small hotel the 3 Mosta in a quite street near a water canal. The beds were very comfortable but we were bitten to death by mosquitoes. We would just fall asleep and then we would be woken up but the annoying buzzing of a mosquito or feel its long needle sink into our tired flesh. We had two mosquito plugs, one plug provided free by the hotel and the other we took with us. We shut the windows but the bastards still got in. Luckily, the hotel has air-conditioning so you we feel cool in your room when you shut the windows to keep the mosquitoes out. The breakfast was awful and the staff, who were mostly young girls, were a bit abrupt and 'please' and 'thank you' were not included in the service. Russian's don't generally say thank you, its a cultural difference. We would not stay there again but in a place like Russia, it's hard to find mid priced hotels that are good. Hotels are either cheap and awful or luxury and very expensive. The hotel had a 15% reduction, perhaps due to the mosquitoes? One nights stay at the hotel, cost 4,250 rubles (approx, 105 euro) for a double bedroom with two adults sharing. A wooden baby cot was provided free but had low sides and would not be safe for children under two as they could fall out.

St.Petersburg is an interesting city to visit and I went there with low expectations after living in Moscow for two years. I expected to see another drab, communistic concrete city but I was very pleasantly surprised by how nice the city is. The city has a lot of interesting and old architecture. As you walk along one of the many canals, your nose is filled with a sweet air that blows from the Neva river. The city feels European and is very charming. The people seem more relaxed and are more friendly than Muscovite's. St Petersburg still has the same customer service problems as Moscow does, where waiting staff don't usually smile and where hotel staff can be abrupt and rude. I think this personality trait will continue for some years to come until things improve. My advice is be polite to them but don't be spoken to rudely. If you experience a cold reaction or are sensitive or upset by it, walk away or brush it off and forget about it. This is their way and they don't know how else to behave. If you get upset each time this happens to you in Russia you would not last very long here. You will need a thick skin to live here or to visit the country as a tourist.

Near the Mosta 3 hotel, there is a beautiful church called The church of the Savior On Blood. It is a fantastic example of a Russian church, it is beautiful inside and out and is defiantly worth a visit. I also recommend seeing the Hermitage with a few strong warnings. As a foreigner, you will be charged more than Russians and the whole tourist experience can be stressful and time consuming to get inside and to buy tickets. When we were in St.Petersburg in August, I had the feeling that half of China was with us. Coach loads of buses were parked on every pavement and Chinese tourists pushed past us in tightly packed groups, all wearing commentary ear pieces and all led my a man or woman holding up a plastic flag with a number on it. One group would enter a room at the Hermitage, only to followed by another and another, in an endless stream of body traffic. The groups were constant and there was no break from them. The place was stuffy and airless and you could not really enjoy the experience.

Perhaps the business priority for the Russian tourist sites is to sell as many tickets as possible and not to care about the visitor experience? We paid eighteen dollars online for the Hermitage in order to save time queuing for tickets at the attraction but when we got there and went to the entrance of the Hermitage to go inside, we were sent from one ticket window to another before we could finally enter the place. There is one price for Russians and one price for foreigners and this discrimination is totally legal and unchallenged. Russian's pay just one hundred rubles to see the Hermitage. The place was total chaos and packed with people. Maybe the summer  is a bad time to visit St.Petersburg, go there off season and when it is not the school holidays. I would not visit the Hermitage again under such circumstances.

When you visit Russian tourist sites, you cannot usually buy one ticket for all things within the site, you have to buy different tickets for each thing you want to see inside which is extremely annoying. You will see what I mean when you go. We were in St.Petersburg for only four days and this was not long enough. I recommend spending a week in St.Petersburg, there is a lot see in terms of sites and you can take a boat trip. I strongly recommend seeing the Peterhof park and gardens. You can get there by high speed boat. It's a beautiful palace with a large park and many fountains you will need to spend a day there to see it all. I don't recommend seeing the Peter and Paul fortress. It's very boring and there is nothing to see apart from a prison that has been badly reconstructed and looks like something from a very cheap unrealistic movie. There is a large church within the walls of the Peter and Paul fortress of but again you will have to battle with the Chinese to see anything. Save your money don't go there!

Going to St.Petersburg is not at all cheap, for the same price we paid for food, tourism, two return train tickets and paying for a mid priced hotel, you could pay the same amount for a weeks stay, at a cheap hotel plus return flights from within the EU to go to Greece or Spain. However, no resume of world travel would be complete without seeing St.Petersburg. I recommend seeing this beautiful Russian sister St.Petersburg. She really is worth seeing. If you visit Russia, call in for tea with the ugly Moscow sister but don't stay too long, make your excuses and leave. St Petersburg is really worth seeing and I would happily go back again and again.

Photos:

Savior on blood St Petersburg church

Savior on blood St Peterburg church at night

© All Rights Reserved.