Russia drives me nuts 'cause #2

It is a crime to be gay in Russia.  This really creeped me out until I reasoned that how would I ever be identified as a gay?   By fashion sense?  They would not know how to read that.

I was not going to DO anything there or even risk going to an underground gay bar:  zero bang for a lot of bucks, I imagine.  I can wait for Miami Beach.  There are a lot of hot guys and girls in Russia, and I know there must be a good twenty million or so gays and lesbians.  Of course, high fashion on the streets in Russia these days is similar to Members Only from the 80's- maybe they bought the brand's repossessed clothing manufacturing machinery for a discount- so there is no way to identify anyone by fashion sense.  Even the dorks driving the Porches dress the same as the other dorks.  And pretty much everyone is in top shape, so that's no clue.   Perhaps Putin needed to perscute someone to look as if he's a powerful Russian general, and gays probably pose the least fall out for him.  Probably hardly anyone can be identified as a gay anyway, so there are probably only arrests when it is convenient, like for when a policeman wants your new car.  To the gulag with you, malodoy chenovich, and i shall make sure we maintain the Lexus as evidence.

A lot of people in the Gay Community are rallying behind the Russian gays, but I am not terribly concerned about them.  What makes you think they are any nicer than the other awful people, just because their genes tell them they have a different breeding role from the straight ruskis?  Honestly, they already have grim lives in a nasty, corrupt, crass police state, so the unlikely chance of being persecuted for being gay is the least of their worries.  Are we supposed to save the rest of the population from their dreadful existance, too, since they are probably all members of at least one of our affinity groups?  A dreadful existance is really the people's own construction, so perhaps a better policy is to let them duke it out themselves.  That sounds heartless, but I agree with Reagan, containment is probably the best solution for the Russian problem.

Russia drives me nuts 'cause #1

Busy roads generally do not have cross walks across them.  Then have pedestrian underpasses underneath them.  This would seem smart for snow, except the stairs are not covered.  And also the underpasses don't go anywhere except under the road.  If you are one of the common people who uses the subway, buses and his feet for green transport and not his us$100k+ european automobile, much of your day walking anywhere will involve stairs, a lot of stairs.

One would think Russian city planners would try to minimize the stairs, but I am sure it was someone's job, a lot of people's jobs, to design and build these.  So we frequently find them where they are not neceessary since there's already an underpass there or a crosswalk would be fine.  As a disabled person with two titanium hips and a knee with hardly any cartildge left, I notice stairs.  The most annoying thing about Moscow is adjacent underground tunnels that don't connect.  For instance, to get to Arankskaya station from the other side of the street, one must go down about twenty stairs, walk about 50m, and then up about twenty stairs then walk 10m and down twenty stairs.  I have no idea what disabled people in Russia do.  It must be grim for them. but everything is grim anyway, so their lives probably mess well with everyone else's dreadful lives.

OR

One drives a Range Rover at 100 khm through red stop lights and whizzes over the pathetic proles.

Either way is acceptable in Russia.

Eerie escape from an A-ticket ride through the "Unhappiest Place on Earth"

Disclaimer:  I am writing this blog recovering from major stress.

My mind has been going for five days thinking "how can this country so be dreadful?".  Of course, Russia has puzzled Cold War and other scholars for a century, whose limited understanding was thought to be a product of their limited access to Russian "society", though that word is too generous, I should say Russian "people".  After being in the isolated Mother Country, I can understand the more muted crass behavior of Russians in America and Australia now, which never made sense before.  I apologize to my Russian friends if this comes across as being insensitive, but Russia is crude and blunt, if nothing else, and so is my analysis.  And this is not true for everyone of Russian hertiage, of course, but it was true of your ancestors.

Every single mate who has been to Russia, especially those who do business here, told me before this trip not to go because it is a terrible place they never want to see ever again.  I even went to uni to learn the language for three months, foremost to read and write, so I could be present and independent.  I'd agree with my mates now, Russia is the most dreadful major country in the world i've visited, though on the flip side, I saw, heard and tasted many exquisite local pleasures.  Like I lurv vego borscht.  yum!  I'll take three bowls of that!

Moreoever, I was afraid the whole time I was in Russia, afraid of being percecuted without recourse for some imagined crime.  Having fear is a big deal for me, since I lost my emotions, including sense of fear, with my traumatic brain injury in 2007, though many of my emotions are coming back now, and I am sure Russia was great cognitive therapy in that regard.  So thanks, POCCNR.

I was arrested last week in a train station in Sant Petr for taking pictures inside the empty station at 6am, probably because the scene included two police.  I was forced out of the station physically with a lot of shouting in Russian whilst my bags hung out in a pile inside.  Of course, most of my Russian language skills went out the window, and I ended up pleading pathetically in American English.  (Ok, this touches on artocities all over the world when people are killed or multlated by police capriciously, and I only got seaparated from my bags.  Namaste.)  Boo hoo.  But I somehow had already absorbed some of the nonsense Russian ethos and simply gave up, left the station compliantly, circled around back to the station entrance, passed through security quickly without bags and no line at 6am, passed the same policeman, gabbed my bags and went.  Why did he freak out?  I shall never know, but at least I got the story AND the pic.  But that's Russia. 

(Insert pano of train station in St Pete)

Offending picture

Russia is not a free country by any stretch of the imagination. I have SO much more respect for Ronald Reagan now, honestly.  I voted for him in 1984.  Russia has a lot of petrol wealth and consequentially with the naive peasant population, out of control sick abject consumerism, and consumers who grew up waiting in line for bread have no way to balance their consumption rationally, like children with a big cash Christmas present from nana. How many times was I nearly run over my someone speeding a Porsche, Land Rover, BMW, Mercedes, or Jaguar through the rain in city streets at 100 kmh?  Moscow is full of grown men who drive their toys recklessly like teenagers.  Advertisement is plastered everywhere, on everything, on everyone.  New York is like that, but only in circumscribed situations.  Russians have no sense of what is appropriate.

(Insert train ads pic)

My visit to the amazing State Museum of Art and History in southern Moscow helped me put my ideas together, as well as my rudimentary knowledge of Russian history, but mostly I think I best grasp Russian people is just from my work for the past three years at Taronga Zoo in behavioral science.

1) The population of Russia has genetic variation from centuries of intermixing of warring bandits from Europe and Asia, which makes them strong physically and mentally.  I learned in the Museum of Origins in Jo'burg, and in ironicallly (and without reference outside China) the Chinese museum of archeology in Xian last year, that Homo sapiens migrated from South Africa to the Middle East, then on to Europe (killing off moronic Neanderthals) and Asia in two groups and then from Asia on to Australia and the Americas in two groups.  Our South African friends prove this with dna from bones, linguistics, and XYZ.  These mixed people on the steppes are more evolved genetically than Europeans who think themselves so clever and advanced.

This strain of humanity suffered through the endless harsh winters on the barren steppes and outlasted savage invading troops who moved on and found better pastures elsewhere.  The Russians who survived were the wily ones who could make a few months' growing season feed them for a whole year, and were patient enough to surive between them.  Those are the genetic characteristics of the bulk of the people, able to make something out of nothing, which probably makes them great computer scientists, astronauts, and scientists.

After noticing in Athens and the Greek islands that most Greek men look pregnant- sadly even many of the young boys- that Russians are with few exceptions lean and strong.  Interesting, it's probably a combination of genetics and environment, though you would think eating potatoes and drinking vodka would make them chubby.

2) The Russians are regarded as intelligent.  There is no question that is true.  But over and over, I ran into problems, logical problems, which the locals dismiss.  For instance at check out at the  supposedly world-class luxury $450/night Orient Express Grand Hotel of Europe in Sant Petersburg, in English:

Good morning

Good morning, Sir

I would like to check out, then you have scheduled me a taxi to take me to Moscowskaya station. That should be on my bill already.  I'm in Room 222.

Ah, sir, there is nothing for you to do, there is no bill.

Yes, I paid my room in advance, but I charged dinners, a taxi, and an opera.  Are you saying my bill was waived because of so many grievous errors by the hotel?

No, sir, the bill is being paid by a third party, so I cannot provide you the invoice.

That is strange.  May I ask who the third party is?

Why, yes, it is you, sir.

Great, then may I pay my bill or at least see what I charged to my room.

I can print out the charges so far, but I cannot release the invoice and you cannot pay it.

And he reluctantly hands me the printout, which was in order and what I expected.

I assume you'll send the bill to me to be paid then?

Yes, sir.

or

I wrote an email to the hotel from my room (which did have wifi in the rooms, Hilton!) to get to the bottom of a bad situation since the hotel staff were never around before or after my long cruise ship passenger tours.  That's careless service for a $450/night hotel!  The concierge had corrected me that my ballet was in the Mariinsky theater far away for and not the Hermitage a few blocks away, as I thought.  After my nightmare problem arriving in Russia in arranged gypsy cab which was late and reckless and dropped me off three blocks from my hotel, I had the concierge arranged a taxi to the ballet.  Luckily, I studied Russian and can read and write and noticed the name theater on my ticket which enjoying dinner near the hotel.  I confirmed with the taxi, and the ballet was, as I thought, just five blocks away, 5 min, but the driver demanded 1000 rubles ($30), and there was nothing I could say to get out of it because my Russian is not that good.  When I reported this screw up to the concierge, she told me that happened to her in Italy too, which is why the hotel recommends guests don't book their own taxis.  What?!  Russian logic.  For a culture so good at science and math, how can they not put simple logic together?  Or do they they chose to not delve into it?

I think the terrible service at the GHE in Sant Petersburg is not endemic to Russians.  The Russian management operates according to long established slack Russian standards which are considered proper business.  Whereas the flawless service at the Hilton Moscow is obviously due to the strict American management training from overseas.  The Hilton is pretty much what I got in Xian, China or in Melbourne or in Toyko., fabulous.

But that doesn't explain it all, why by Russian standards, it's just fine for customers to be cheated and abused if they are not smart enough to fend for themselves.  I think most Russians would actually agree that is acceptable in business.  It is communal "learned helplessness" that scientists (used to) study in animals being shocked with no recourse in psychology lab experients.  What does this mean going forward for an oil rich gung-ho nouvelle-consumerist society?  A disaster is coming, and the West is best to just cordon the whole mess off.

I had a funny moment in the ultra-posh gorgeous former commie store GUM in which a security guard grabbed me and prevented me from taking a pic of a price tag on some Hugo Boss pants.  I wanted to see if I should buy them there or in duty free in Zurich.   (Ooops! Forgot.  But the USA is like a giant duty free.)   Huh?  Comparision Shopping Not Allowed, Comrade!!

Why?  Is it because of years of Communism?  I don't think so, it's actually backwards.  Russia's century of Communism a result of the natural manner in which Russians treat each other.  Great minds like Lenin realized that the petty but clever population needed to be controlled and kept in strict check in order for the country to have a chance of functioning as a modern nation, especially with sinister enemies on all sides.  Communism and a creepy military watched over the people gave the population a great excuse for not trampling each other over (learned helplessness).  Any uni student knows that brilliant people gave Russia its communist government for a reason, as well as its buffer zone of unfortunate sacrified nations.

I waited to write this until after we'd cleared Russian airspace.  I was that scared of the police state.  As  I write on my ipad on a pleasant, orderly, austere Swiss Air first class (innaney with the same seating but the middle seat empty), the Russians around me are playing video games, taking up as much space as they can get their hands on, refusing to speak the language, German.  I try, at least the basics, which is about all I need to say.  The greying businessman Ruski guy next to me, probably 55 has been playing his loud video game clanging and beeping for about two hours now.  Hey, buddy, ever hear of headphones?  When I boarded, it was clear he got two seats, I got one.  That is Russia.  The video games are to sooth that agitated, clever mind that has to keep going and going, else they might have to deal with reality.

(insert airplane pics)

Paris' hotels are always a paragon of service, comfort and style. I am sold on the brand.

The Hilton Leningradskaya Moscow was nearly flawless.  The crap Orient Express Grand Hotel of Europe in Sant Petersburg, was twice as expensive with half the facilities and half the service.  The difference seems to be American management versus Russian mismanagement, and that was completely obvious in the way the staff carried out their duties, handled problems, and the hotel's care for their guests.

I was told my some locals not to stay at the Hilton Moscow near Leningradskaya station serving Sant Petersburg.  As it is about 1000m (the hotel says 300m but maybe as the crow flies to the edge of the station parking lot) from the railroad station, albeit by sidewalks and crossing busy roads, I would not need yet another taxi transfer, which I see now were all totally rip off disasters.

The Hilton turned out to be one of my favorite parts of Russia.  I guess since it is on the far side of the city ring road from the gaudy skyscrapers, the worst elements of Russian society, or should I just call it more bluntly the Russian population, do not patronize the hotel.  It is mostly the overseas business people who are not involved in nefarious enterprises.  The hotel is one of the seven bizarre but beautiful "seven sister" copies of the Empire State Building that Lenin ordered dot the city, a few in very close proximity.  Another is a few blocks away from the Hilton, which is confusing if using the cool distinctive shape to find your hotel.

The Hilton Leningradskaya scored 10/10 with its comfortable spacious excutive level (though located on several floors) rooms, which included separate en suite toliet and bathing areas.  How did Hilton retrofit this old Commie building so naturally?!  The basement has a handy 25m pool and full gym, both empty, for my morning workouts on the road, and of course a sauna and hottub. Excellent.

Best of all, the regular people must use the lobby, but executive guests use the sixth floor, with a series of beautiful meals all day, and liquor at night.  I noticed Germans wolfing down their dinners every night, which I thought was crass, but on my final night I cancelled my resso and ate what i wanted to eat and drank a lot of vodka, for free, while i used the Internet for free.   

My only caveat is that the Hilton Exec rooms should come with free wifi, and I shouldnt have to make the decision to be nickel and dimed us$30/day so my uploads go through all night.  Maybe $5 or $10. Come on Hilton.  Internet is free in all restaurants, coffee shops, even the fricking subway, but not your exec rooms.  I do understand the business modeling, but it makes me resent the brand, and that is not worth your potentially getting $30/day from a few people.

Minya gastinitsa?

Minya?

Epicentre of evil: Radisson Hotel Moscow

I had been hiking across Moscow all day, up and down unnecessary pedestrian stairs to accommodate speeding Porsches.  I was nearly run over by one at a zebra stripe zone!

My cool Hilton conceirge who had unhesistantly chosen the top four experiences in Moscow, besides the Kremlin I had seen on the previous night, to some beautiful churches and a museum to experrience Moscow's treasures, which have little to do with what it is today.   It was incredible, but walking so far was also incredibly hard on my arthritic knee.  My musea stops are detailed elsewhere, but right on our agreed schedule, i left the church of the BING BONG for the subway to my 900 ruble prepaid Moscow boat tour. I had brought my ipad and verified they have wifi since I knew i would get bored, especially since it is a roundtrip.  Subway maps, even in Ruskiland, are always take so much poetic license.  Perhaps the hunky sauve ruski conciege gave me proper directions, of course he did, but i was probably just gazing into his eyes.  (There are no gays in POCCNR by the way.)  The subway involved a transfer itself that took about ten minutes and then my poor cartlidge poor old man knee was done, and as i passed through the first slums i had seen in POCCCR, and now I had a second nefarious scummy threat on my back.  I soldiered on and made it to the embankment of the river CRAPO, and saw the boat from the pamphlet sailing.  My knee!  The tour boat office changed by tour from 5pm to 8pm, still broad daylight, not probable but i needed a vodka and one of lenin's seven sister Empire State buildings was a block away, and no subway for kms.  Vodka. This hotel was the same basic buidling, but with Moscow's ultra tacky CBD highrises in the background.  I was shocked to see suspiciously thuggy security to get into the hotel, and a more sprawling lobby that my Hilton.  The Radisson has an amazing blue skied 50m diorama of Moscow next to the bar.  Bar.  

I ordered a vodka shot and a water in Russian, found a 500 ruble note ($17) and the smarmy bartender retorted that wont buy you anything here, i hope you have more than that!  What a schmuck.  Funny how the Russian mafia self-importance has spread to the help.  I just needed my dawa (Swahili for medicine in previous blog).

Enjoying my vodka (which cost 800 rubles a bottle later in the grocery!) i noticed the (I am afraid to write anything more specific) dubious characters everywhere.  I was in the central meeting place for nefarious characters.  F%$k!

Nasty, nasty staff serving nastier, nasty guests.  It made my skin crawl just to sit and have a vodka with them.

the real russia

being on a cruise ship oriented hand-held tour nicely insulates tourists from experiencing the real russia.  nothing exciting happened on my tour.  on the outside, every single transaction has been a messy fraudulent nightmare.

i think i will walk or take the subway, because as soon as i open a cab door, i am sure to be cheated.  last night, my hotel asked my restaurant they had arranged to set up a taxi for 730pm to take me to my 8pm ballet at the famous Mariinsky theater.  That didn't sound right according to my schedule I had preplanned, but my hotel concierge had set up an amazing first night for me, so I went with it.

During dinner, I read my ballet ticket, all in Russian, and the name of the theater was different.  In fact, it was at the Hermitage Theater, in the museum I had just toured in the morning, a fifteen minute walk from my hotel and the restaurant a block away.  I told this to the cab driver, in Russian, and he thought it was funny, but no problem.  We arrived in three minutes later.  Cost to go five blocks, 1000 rubles, us$35.  It's Russia.  Get used to it.

I had arranged my cabs over the Internet, thinking I was so clever to have it all worked out in advance: LED airport to Peter hotel, hotel to Peter station, Moscow hotel to Moscow airport train station.  All one company, great, ochen harasho.  Except there was no one at the airport with a sign with my name (which looks like PObEPT).  And my phone was out of juice after taking pics and blogging too much on ATH-ZRH-LED.  But my ipad had power and the cafe in arrivals had wifi, so i wrote the taxi company and waited.  I never heard back, ever.  But 30 minute later a scattered blond woman appeared with a crumpled sign and i went to her and said Minya zavut Robert, and Tak Tak Tak, she said (and kept saying for the next hour) though I never learned that word in Russian 1 at UNSW.  "Ve go bus", she said and sneered at my bags with her light frame, as I pulled my 45kg through the airport to the curb and followed her onto a city bus.  30 minutes later we were in a parking lot, and she told me "you wait here", so I stood in the rain waiting patiently.  5, 10, maybe 15 minutes later she screaches up in a car with logo on the side, and I put my bags in the trunk.  "I sorry, had to borrow car, I crash mine yesterday".  And then, even before leaving the parking lot, I got an inkling why she had crashed, Careening around the parking curbs, gunning the engine, throwing our bodies around the car.  She was not able to find the exit to the parking lot.  It was like we were in a cute antique garden maze at a manor house in England, or more like a video game.  We finally got on the open road, which was license for her to veer between lanes, gunning the engine and breaking.  By the time we were in the City, she was working on both her ipad and talking on her phone at the same time.  

(Insert film clip)

When we finally got near my hotel on the posh wide neveksy prospect, the champs ellysey of Peter (as they call it), traffic slowed down due to a cute parade with lots of kids in lines of red, white and blue clothes, marching and cheering, like stalinists.  yea!  my lady had an impossible time and drove around in circles screaming at police and muttering tak, tak, tak.  I knew where my hotel was, and after an hour of this, i told her to just stop the car, and that i would walk.  i got my bag, paid her 1000 rubles for the ride and 400 rubles for my meeting and greeting HER, and she kept muttering, nyet, tak, tak.  I confirmed with a policeman gdye gastinitza grand hotel, and he pointed towards my hotel a few blocks away as i wheeled my huge load of african artifacts along the road, three hours late.  great.  i was a hit short with the lovely check in girl when she started her upsell, telling her you need to be really careful trying to upsell me from a $450/night room and giving me the impression something is second rate about it.. not amused, but neither was i today.  the room was lovely, and after i showered, i went downstairs and apologized to her in russian.  while i was changing and unpacking, hanging all my pants and putting out my subcontainers for socks, shorts, gym gear, etc., naked, i went to the window and filmed the kids marching past in pretty lines of color, cheering.  somehow they saw some old naked troll i the third story window, and all turned and waved to me and cheered.  so strange.  i waved back and shut the window.

i wanted a vodka so checked the mini bar, and the vodka price was an unreal 1000 rubles a bottle.  really.  dinner would be soon enough.

i went back downstairs, prettied up for dinner, and talked to the concierge about my dinnner and opera, and got my tickets from a stack they seem to keep on hand, and had to chose between a private box or row five.  the box has more legroom so why not.

i went upstairs to a private restaurant, with just a few tables, empty, and six waiters to serve me.  vodka is necessary, and approriate here.  yum.  dinner consisted of waves of pleasure, starting with a pairing of three homemade infused vodkas with three specially designed pescetarian mouthfuls: horseradish vodka with a few crisp veggies, pepper vodka with haddock, strawberry vodka with picked  minature apple.  amazing.  then a lovely delicate mushroom soup and siberian river salmon in a leek sauce, three shots of vodka, and a glass of surprisingly lovely russian chardonnay.

i was on such a tight schedule due to the crazy cab experience and barely made it to my private box in time for Verdi's La Traviatta.  I have season tickets at Sydney Opera House, but have never had an opera experiene quite as perfect.  I was in the second box, so directly above the large orchestra, and a  few meters away from the stage at eye level.  The staging, performances and orchestration were magical and really brought the opera to life.  the african conductor was nearly dancing, gracefully waggling his arms, sort of like my tai chi.

i took a walk in the midnight light sky, found a shop and asked for a bottle of vokda (in russian) and was told shhhhhh!  kakoy?  ya kachoo ochen.  (which one?  something good.) and i hid the bottle in my tumi backpack.  later i learned it's illegal to sell spirts after 10pm, and even though i thought it was late afternoon due to the sun, it was 11pm.

it such a perfect first night in russia.

morning came, 530am wake up call after getting to bed at midnight, 

Sapsan bolshoi.

7am train after twilight walk til midnight, and vodka in room.  I always pack when I lay out my final clothes, meds, and bsth amenities. so did after tour and before dinner last night.  Then I am not rushed when I wake or panicked if it's not working.  I do this every few days.   After three weeks of souvenirs, I can't pack any more in my bags!  They are So heavy with African artefacts and fabrics, not to mention Three liters of Greek olive oil!

1000 ruble pre arranged hotel taxi.  No messing around this time.

Thrown out of station

I was 30 min Early so Popped in a Coffee and black currant pastry to recompose self.  Angel taxi wanted me to go 45 min earlier!!

(Which art school) on cafe wall

Nice, modern, new, fast 

We get up to 200kmh but it's not smooth enough to snap a pic like on Shinkansen 

About one stop for two minutes each hour...

... Which is a Crew smoke break

No recline but had nice hour nap

So consumerist!

The only seats that recline are the front facing seats at a table.  Why??

Business class seats wide but don't recline!  Coffee and exhaustion put me right to sleep even at 90 degrees

Free biz class Wifi requires a mobile phone to get a code but no mobile coverage.  It's Russia.  Receive code an hour into trip.  Seat power.

Decent food.  Three choices breakfast in Three course Menu balances the total calories!  

Nice service.  World's loudest girl sitting next to me..  Hmmm, she should live in Los Angeles like Her cousins do.

Zero to see... Endless Forest 

Arrived in Moscow, schedule defined and confirmations emailed. first day st Pete blog written, train blog written, napped.  Well done!

The Russian Psyche

Housekeeping in these hotels always turns on the annoying hotel ad channel while the guest is out of the room.  The Hilton's is discrete and light, but the GHE's channel is obnoxious and circles back on itself over and over.  Fricking annoying!

I changed to channel 3 to learn more ruski by immersion while i fidgetted with my belongings.  I happened upon the Mystic Channel, I think.  This crap is SO Russian.  It always has been: Rasputin, icons of saints, statues of Lenin.  OMG!  I saw how to blend herbal potions, devine spirits, it's all there on Moscow television.  Sure, Americans and Australians fall for this crap but it's so much more intense in Russia.

Why?

I think it has to do with the steppe origins of these people and having to find hope in anything that gimmered.  It's part of the Russian psyche, even if they are scientists, they believe more in this bullshit and wizardy.  

This psychobabbel on Russian tv is the tail end of centuries of weird Russian mysticism leading to a super cool mystical school of art, especially iconography.  And don't forget the influence of manipulative charlatan Rasputin on these supersitious imperial Russians, which changed the history of the country.  Those art treasures decorate the extravagant imperial capital cathedrals and chapels of the Kremlin, as well as St Basil's and less so the BIG HUGE RUSSIAN OTHODOX CATHEDRAL.  I caught a special early morning train to Moscow to catch the Krelim since it is closed my final day in Moscow, Thursday.  I chose a regular Kremlin ticket rather than an Armory ticket, and that was a stupid mistake.  I hear the armory is the coolest thing in the Kremlin imperial compound, and one can see a better collection of iconography at St Basil's outside in Red Square and at the STATE MUSEUM.  I was just not thinking when i hiked there in the arvo, and didn't have many rubles in my wallet when i got to the ticket booth.  (Maybe since i left my hotel in Sant Peter at 6am that day and was dazed.)  I had asked the ticket lady:

gdye bank? 

 and she replied

i dont know, do not know.  

ias if, i am so sure, they were all around red square.  idiot unhelpful devushka.

anyway, i didnt have money for two tickets, but could have bought the amoury ticket and seen everything i did.  it's part of the normal complexity of russian ultra-buraeuratic pricing.

Even though the religious art and architecture is the main draw of the Kremlin, it was great to be inside the seat of twentieth century Russian imperial power, and I got to exhaust my uniform fetish with probably two or three hundred men and women in military outfits.

Greece vs Russia: Uniforms

Greece vs Russia: Physiques

Greece vs Russia: Cuisine

Russia vs Greece: Culture

May 30 in Moscow: Dreadful

From my hotel window

The Sant Peter blizzard of May 2014

I feel sorry for shore-leave cruise ship passengers here.  They get little of the real Russian experience, good and bad.  They don't even carry money.

 "стой!!", I yell. It's my new job in "Peter", as locals say.

Our boat tour coincided with the blizzard of 2014.  I made a protective outfit from blankets, very WWII nazi occupation.

The hermitage

- Russian obsession with posh foreign objects to brighten up their dull drab country  

Guide: style is a mix of various periods.  Dogs breakfast

My Taiwanese mates

Gorgeous Cathedral, fourth largest in Europe, was bombed by Germans in WWII, spared and restored as a museum, but never used as a church again after the Bolsheviks.  Alex had told us its policy to take off our hats inside.  Is that for respect for the church- it's not a church and no one is religious- no. Is it for respect for the nasty Romanov royal family buried there- no, they were hated. So no reason.  It's Russia.  I put my hat back on, part of my ruski military guard outfit that fooled nearly everyone I met.

Tacky Russians make it official.  There are no church weddings of de facto relationships here.

So much rich delicious food is getting to me.  But luckily I have only been eating once a day with the tour, once at a restaurant for dinner, lots of voddy in between.

What a crook.  But what can I say.  Take your 1000 rubles for a five minute ride.

(Insert video)

I've been pushing, Pushkin, pushing way too hard.  My body is broken after almost four weeks of hard travel.  So after my midnight-twilight walk through spooky soft damp peter, I watched a Russian q&a type show in which Russians yell at each other about the Ukraine, and eschewed my plans for a traditional midnight sauna, lured by a rubber ducky into a lovely hot bath.  I'm not going to try as hard in Moscow.