ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA - 25 July, 2002
It was drizzling when I stepped out of the St. Petersburg main train station. I waded to three hotels. I was met by receptionists or security guards who merely grunted, "Nyet nyet..." and waved me away impatiently. All these inexplicable 'Nyets' thrown at me... Frankly, I was beginning to feel a little defeated here in Russia.

One and a half hours of walking around in the rain was enough. I tried my luck at the Youth Hostel, which had a dorm bed available but was very expensive.

At first glance, even in the drizzle, St. Petersburg looked gorgeous. The whole city seemed to be lined almost entirely with old buildings of intricate 1800s+ architectural style. Naturally, the main thoroughfare, Nevsky Prospekt, had billboards and boutiques, fancy restaurants, etc now but St. Petersburg looked like it was carefully preserved and lovingly restored.

Even at 8 or 9am in the morning, you could already see a number of drunk men tottering around with a bottle of vodka or a can of gin and tonic. For the rest of the day, groups or individual men and women could be spotted walking around with bottles and cans of alcohol as well. This was really common.

There were buskers, portrait artists, people wearing signboards telling all where to head off to buy CDs, elderly women selling little bouquet of flowers or a few cucumbers or carrots straight from their gardens, ladies announcing the boat trips along the canals, men holding signs indicating the currency exchange of a nearby exchange house and quite a number of beggars, including pet-beggars. Pet-beggars were people who took their dogs (or cats) out to beg. Sometimes, they made their dogs carry little pails in their mouths. These dogs were usually huge, luscious-looking ones. I guessed they were there to get sympathy from people who loved dogs.

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA - 26 July, 2002
I decided to check out of the hostel. The cost each night would really hurt my pockets.

I trudged out to look for another hostel and half a day later, I located it. But handing my passport over to the babushka at the counter resulted in more 'Nyets'. Why? Why? Why?

There were two guys in front of me, similarly exasperated. It seemed the lady at the counter wanted to account for each and every night of their stays in Russia. She expected a registration stamp to be obtained upon arrival at each town.

This was not what I understood it to be. I just thought we needed to be registered within three days of arrival in Russia, and not each town. So, since I had no stamp for my last night in St. Petersburg, she was rejecting me. Arguing with her (in English) was useless. She just kept shaking her head.

Argh!! This was so frustrating! Can you imagine hostels/hotels being run by elderly women who did not appear to fully understand the system behind this registration thing? To be on the safe side, she simply rejected tourists and accepted only Russians, I supposed.

Three-quarters of the day gone. I returned to the Youth Hostel to make sure everything was alright with my visa registration, which it was... and sorely accepted that Russia was going to be a budget-breaker and not an easy place to travel in.

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA - 27 July, 2002
No more home-hunting for me, I figured. I could be here for days doing it and arguing with old crones fruitlessly! I would maximise my days here in St. Petersburg with the sights I wanted to visit.

The Hermitage was definitely a must-see. It must be one of the best museums in the world. The Hermitage was made up by three main buildings - the Winter Palace, Little Hermitage and Large Hermitage. The state-rooms in the Winter Palace were awesome. Many had the typical 'wedding-cake' architectural style where the rooms were painted a pastel blue, for example, with white 'icing' cornices everywhere. Most rooms were opulently decorated with gold, chandeliers, crystals, etc. They sent my head spinning...

Even without considering the art collection here, the Hermitage was awe-inspiring enough. But the art collection here was truly magnificent. I cannot do them justice with my tepid descriptions so I shall leave them be. Just go.

Naturally, being the most major sight in St. Petersburg, the whole place was swamped with tourists. These lemmings were trained to recognise the umbrella, wallet or flag held by their tour leaders and trotted behind him/her obediently. If the tour leader stopped in front of a painting, they would stop. If the tour leader walked off the cliff into the ravine, they would walk off the cliff into the ravine.

And almost every room sat a babushka with a watchful eye. I guess here in Russia, a babushka had plenty of job opportunities.

Another place with many sitting babushkas were the metro stations. They were employed there to sell the metro tokens (or cards in Moscow), watch people slot in their tokens or cards, and sit at the bottom of the escalator and watch people come down the escalator. The last one was the one I never understood the purpose of.

I had not eaten proper meals for the past three days in Russia. On the first day of arrival in Moscow, Pablo and I had only one meal that day and that was at McDonald's. We were not proud of it but we were famished (and upset over the visa thing) and the huge McDonald's was just THERE so we did not have to hunt all over for food. On the second and third day in St. Petersburg, I had eaten horrible, microwaved, tiny-portions of food from cafes and bread and jam.

I seemed to be always hungry in Russia. Affordable cafes were difficult to find. I decided to check out a cafe mentioned in Lonely Planet, something which I normally dislike doing as I prefer to stumble into charming local eateries by myself. But so far, I failed miserably in that. I persuaded myself that starving for three days for a proper (and expensive) hot meal was well-deserved. Hey, the cafe even served complimentary vodka! You know you are in Russia when the cafes serve complimentary vodka.

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA - 28 July, 2002
Popped over to the Russian Museum today. In one room, I nearly reached down to pick up the papers dropped by a sitting marble statue.

Papers dropped by a sitting marble statue?!?! Had I just gone marbles? Yeah, the papers looked that real! If I really did it, I would have some explaining to do to the irate babushka in the room.

While the Hermitage had a gigantic and excellent European art collection, the Russian Museum had mostly Russian paintings and personally, it was great to get a 'flavour' of Russian art too. There were many paintings about wars and a huge load of portraits, some with insipid names like 'Portrait of a Woman with an Orange Background', 'Portrait of a Man with the Diseased Arm'. However, the price difference for tourists and Russians were really huge. For the Hermitage, it was R300 (about US$10) for tourists and R15 (about US$0.50) for Russians. For the Russian Museum, it was R240 for tourists and R20 for Russians. Ouch!

In St. Petersburg, there was a very beautiful church - Church of the Resurrection of Christ that was partly modelled after the St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow. It had the same clash of candy colours on the onion-shaped domes and intricate works of mosaics on the walls. It apparently took 24 years to build and 27 years to restore.

Many times, when I encounter such stunning sights, I always get this feeling - that once you first spotted it as you turned the corner or spied it between the arcade of a gate or something, they loomed at you large, captivating, domineering. For a moment, you are awe-struck, stupefied, weak in the knees.

As you hurried towards it, the sight would strangely become smaller and smaller, as the sky around the arcade of the gate, for example, grow in size. It looked very strange as it seemed to shrink as you walked towards it, as if it was disappearing from you... Then, at a 'break-even' point, it would grow again. Well, a little strange but this was something that I had observed a few times. My two-cents.

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA - 29 July, 2002
As I was now in a new continent, I also observed a new kind of backpackers.

Sample 1:
Girl with an affected voice in my room: You know... I was in the toilet today. And I didn't have any paper with me. So, I took out a R10 note...
Me: You didn't!!
Girl: Yeah, I used it. Come on! It's like US$0.30 or something... I had no paper!

Sample 2:
Guy at the breakfast room: You can ask the travel agency next to the Reception to buy the train ticket for you.
Me: I know, but I thought I should TRY to get it at the train station myself first (although I did fail at that once in Moscow). Do you know how much is the commission for your ticket?
Guy: Commission?? I don't care.

Sample 3:
Another guy at the breakfast room: I'm heading to Moscow tomorrow.
Me: Are you? Which night-train are you taking?
Guy I'm taking the express train that leaves at 4pm and arrives in Moscow at 10pm.
Me: But isn't the night train better? You save on one night's accommodation.
Guy: Ooooh, I hate night trains. I can NEVER sleep on night trains.

The travellers I met in China had mostly been travelling around South-East Asia or India, Nepal, etc... And I guess, those people were more frugal and more tolerant of discomforts, that was why they chose Asia.

But here, the travellers I met seemed to be richer and more pampered. I guess that was why they chose Europe. So, there were not only cultural changes in the locals, there were also changes in the travellers I met.

I got along splendidly with one lady in my dorm, however. Karla was a tour leader, taking 'Premium Groups' from Hong Kong to St. Petersburg and then another group, back. These guys pay US$4000 for a 26-day trip of train-hopping! She was having an in-between-groups break in St. Petersburg now.

I bade farewell to her in the morning when I left the hostel, only to meet her again at the Internet Cafe, by chance. Then, I bade farewell to her at the Internet Cafe, only to run into her at a restaurant later. I had once again decided to treat myself to a proper hot meal. It seemed I could try to starve one day and then, splurge at a sit-down restaurant the next.

Later, I wanted to walk to the Peter and Paul Fortress. But when I reached the bridge nearest to it to cross the Neva River, I found the bridge, Troitsky Most, to be closed for repairs.

St. Petersburg was built around the delta of the Neva River, with a number islands at the mouth of the river where the Neva split into Malaya Neva and Bolshaya Neva. With this bridge down, I decided to walk to Vasikevsky Island and on to the Petrograd Side by a series of bridges, before going to the Peter and Paul Fortress. Then, to top it off as a day of bridges, I made it back to the Petrograd Side, straight to the Vybord Side and back to the main side by crossing more bridges. I crossed six bridges that day. Walking was a great way to experience a city but I was thoroughly exhausted.

I was having dinner at a little sharwma (kebab) shop when in walked Karla... for the third time today! What a laugh!!

ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA - 30 July, 2002
St. Petersburg is located at such a high latitude that by summer, it had, what they called, 'White Nights' where the sky seemed to be really bright late in the night and turned dawn in the wee hours of the day.

I was not really sure which days in summer they would consider the real 'White Nights' but even at 11pm now, the sky was still light blue. By midnight, I could then see the intense blue of 'after sunset'.

Because of this, for the past days here in St. Petersburg, I had been thronging the streets, out there, on the move... for up to 14 hours a day. Although I felt tired, I sometimes got a surprise when I realised the time! Then, I felt it necessary to hurry home although it seemed to be still day time.

Today, with the accumulation of five days of hard walking, I decided not to join Karla who was going on a Peter's Walking Tour. Instead, I headed to the Botanic Gardens and sat there the entire day, feeding mosquitoes. Some days are meant for doing nothing...

The mosquitoes were sucking my blood from my feet ravenously. After reading St. Petersburg Times, I wrapped my feet up with the newspaper. I must have been quite a sight. Sitting on the bench, cross-legged, reading a book, and I had, what would appear to the Russians, smoked fish wrapped in newspaper (that was how they were done here) sticking out from under my pants.

Karla later told me that they went on a very interesting Fyodor Dostoevsky's 'Crime and Punishment' Tour with Peter. Peter had taken them to all the places mentioned in the book. Although Dostoevsky did not always write down the street names or bridges or whatever, scholars had traipsed around St. Petersburg and figured out the places. Karla highly recommended Peter's Walking Tour. He would meet at 10:30am at the Youth Hostel everyday and ask the participants where they wanted to go, what they wanted to see. So far, I had heard rather good reviews from other participants as well.

Hmmm.... now I was interested to read 'Crime and Punishment'.

I took the night-train to Moscow tonight and I bought the ticket by myself.

ST. PETERSBURG to MOSCOW, RUSSIA - 31 July, 2002
I had obtained a contact for a lady, Galina, who rented out a bed in her flat. I emailed her and she had replied that a bed was available for a few nights. Her flat was a tiny, charming one. It was much cheaper than any hostels in Moscow and Galina was wonderfully friendly.

I dropped my backpack and immediately headed out to the Belarussian Embassy, hoping to submit my passport and transit visa application before 12 noon. I realised the people working at the visa section did not speak English. This seemed really strange to me. I mean, I could understand why those women working at train ticket windows did not speak English. But people working at the visa section had to meet people from all over the world... and they did not speak English too? I was lucky to be queuing behind an American who could speak Russian and he helped me with my various queries. And I submitted it right at 12 noon. Phew.

There was a haze over Moscow. It seemed there was a bush fire nearby because of the intense summer heat. So, it was really hot and humid today.

Since Irkutsk, I had long noticed that the young, gorgeous Russian women here mostly went braless. Everywhere in Irkutsk, St. Petersburg and now Moscow, nipples were poking out from tight shirts and skimpy tops. I supposed in a country which was cold for three-quarters of the year, the one-quarter of the year where it was sunny, these confident ladies would want to toss out all jackets and woollies and bras... and strut their stuff.

Guess we were lucky to find ourselves in Russia in that one-quarter of the year. Ben and I had permanently popped-out eyes in Irkutsk. Even under pressure about the visa thing in Moscow earlier, Pablo and I were going, "Que tetas!" at the perky ones.

I was not alone to note the Nipple Safari. I found an article in the Moscow Times where the reporters went and snapped photos of the various kinds of nipples. They had classified them into Handfillerus Mediumus, Perkius Androgynous, Siliconus Perfectus, Startingus Saggius, Pimplus Prepubescentus, Thrustus Maximus, etc...

MOSCOW, RUSSIA - 1 August, 2002
Trotted over to Pushkin Fine Arts Museum, Moscow's premier foreign art museum to savour more European art. There were more portraits with insipid titles like 'Portrait of a Woman and a Girl', 'Portrait of a Lady in a Toilet'. (I am serious about the last one.) I found that by now, in some cases, I could walk into a room and declare, "Boy, this has got to be Gauguin." Not bad, not bad...

Once again, I failed in locating charming and affordable little cafes here in Moscow. I was not even picky about the taste of the food.

I finally had lunch at the food court in Okhotny Ryad Shopping Mall which was charmless and extremely expensive. The problem was the food was charged by weight, something which I was not used to. I hesitantly pointed to something behind the glass counter, the lady scooped out a portion, microwaved it, plonked it down at the weighing scale and proceeded to convert it to roubles. Bang, R195 (US$6.50+)! Now, you couldn't say that was too expensive and you did not want it anymore, could you?? Then, you had to try and swallow the awful food in order not to waste it.

MOSCOW, RUSSIA - 2 August, 2002
As expected, the Kremlin was crawling with packs of tourists, early in the morning. There were a few interesting Russian Orthodox Churches and Cathedrals with the typical onion-shaped domes located in the Kremlin. But the place most worth visiting was the Armoury. This required a special ticket, more expensive than the main entrance ticket and it was only open for a short time during your visit. I had already splurged on all the tickets and photo-charges, plus my baggage deposit, so why not toss in another R120 for the audio-tape explanation. But boy, was I glad I had audio-tape, it surely made the Armoury exhibits come alive.

The Armoury contained a numbingly magnificent and opulent collection of treasures hoarded over centuries by the Russian State and Church. The display cases were all glistening with diamonds, crystals, silver, gold designs for bible covers, icons covers, cutlery, vessels and all sorts of tableware. Then, there were fabulous jewellery, amazingly detailed Faberge Easter eggs, weapons and armour, royal regalia, thrones, costumes (including the one worn by Catherine the Great during her coronation) and carriages. It was opulence in great abundance. My heart beat very fast throughout the visit. The Armoury was wonderful. While the value of the treasure must already be overwhelming, the historical significance of these items had made them priceless.

MOSCOW, RUSSIA - 3 August, 2002
I had a few friends to visit in Europe and I would be staying with some of them. I wanted to get them gifts. I had bought three snuff bottles in Beijing but I needed a few more for the rest of the friends.

Izmalovsky Park apparently had a huge weekend crafts market and so I found myself wandering up and down the stalls determined to buy something.

I had long grouped my financial expenses into a few major needs - Food, Accommodation, Transport, Must-dos (Sights and Visa stuff) and Ice-cream. So, to fork out money for souvenirs felt really odd to me.

Unfortunately, there was not a wide choice of interesting and affordable Russian souvenirs around. In the end, I had to buy the typically Russian but very kitsch matryoshka dolls. I felt a little embarrassed by them. I guess I had to assure my friends it was the thought that counted.

I finally found Moscow's Anglia British Bookshop in an impossible location. I stared at the price of 'Crime and Punishment' and did mental sums. Well, I had to get it. Now that I had been to St. Petersburg, I had to read something by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Enough of trashy novels I had been exchanging in China. I was going to read a good book. The purchase pleased me immeasurably.

MOSCOW, RUSSIA - 4 August, 2002
I spent four hours today walking around the centre, trying to locate a bankomat that worked. I wanted to buy my train ticket to Warsaw, Poland first thing tomorrow morning. I had the approximate price for the ticket and I just wanted to withdraw R1500. I started to have Beijing flashback as I tried bankomats after bankomats, and all claimed the service was unavailable for the moment. I even crashed a machine outside a supermarket. It took forever to reboot. I hurried away, thoroughly guilty. I finally changed US$50 to save my sanity.

When I reached the moody but interesting Sculptures Park, I lay on the grass and dozed off at once. The park contained a collection of Soviet statues - Stalin, Dzerzhinsky, Lenin, Brezhnev, etc. These were ripped from their pedestals in the wave of anti-Soviet feeling after 1991 and now, put up here. There were also some sculptors working on new works in the corner. Nice little place to spend an evening.

MOSCOW, RUSSIA - 5 August, 2002
After purchasing the Moscow-Warsaw train ticket, I had very little roubles left for today and tomorrow. I was not changing more money. I calculated that if I ate sharwmas from the kiosks outside metro stations and maybe, at McDonald's, I would just have enough.

In fact, I had been eating sharwmas the past few days. They were cheap, could fill my stomach well and were usually served by dark, handsome men of Turkish origins.

As this was my last day in Moscow, I decided to make one last quick round of metro-hopping, in order to visit the Moscow metro stations famous for the art and designs. After all, the whole excursion would cost me the fare of one ride.

Some of the more famous metro stations were like grand ballrooms or theatres. Walking down the steps, I sometimes imagined myself in a beautiful evening gown... and then, tripping over the gown and rolling to the bottom of the steps in the most ungracious fashion.

I will list the more attractive stations for the benefit of readers who might be inspired to come to Moscow in the future, despite my non-too-favourable updates... Komsomolskaya on the circle line had chandeliers and mosiacs of past Russian military heroes. Kievskaya on the circle line was also very beautiful. Mayakovskaya apparently won the 1938 World's Fair in New York for its design. I liked Belosusskaya and Arbatskaya as well. Park Kultury, although I did not get off, had some interesting sculptures when I zoomed by.

MOSCOW, RUSSIA to WARSAW, POLAND - 6 August, 2002
I went to McDonald's and scanned the board. Apparently, the names for the burgers were transliterated from English into Russian. So, McChicken would be read as 'McChicken' in Russian Cyrillic. They did not replace the word for 'Chicken' with 'Kuritsa' ('Chicken' in Russian), for example. So, I walked up to the counter and said, "Hamburger" which was the cheapest, of course. The sour-faced lady frowned and shook her head. Oh no, not another 'Nyet'! She was working in McDonald's and she did not know 'Hamburger'? I looked at the board again. Oh, there was no 'H' sound in Russian. The alphabet was replaced with the 'G' sound. "OK. Gamburger..." Then, she requested for payment with an unforgiving look on her face.

Yeah, I should have noticed the lack of 'H' by now. True, 'Harry Potter' was 'Garry Potter' everywhere. 'Hercules' would be 'Gercules'. You get the idea...

For my Warsaw train ride, I originally shared a cabin with a middle-aged lady. When the train left the station, her friend kept popping over and eyeing me, unsmilingly. The train conductor was finally dragged over and he looked me over with a sad face. "Pa Russki?" he queried. "Nyet." My turn to use this word. "Pa Polski?" Yeah right, I can speak Polish. "Nyet." I quite liked doing this.

They furrowed their brows and muttered away disappointingly. OK, to put them out of their misery, I did a swapping gesture with my two index fingers dancing around. Their eyes lit up with delight. I was shown the new cabin. My new travel companion would be a hot-looking red-head. Sure, why not? Sometimes, they just thought it was impossible to communicate without Russian. They just did not try hard enough.

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