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,
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