My Travel Bum Blog: August 2012

I haven't really blogged about Russia, which was a highlight of this whole trip. It was interesting from the very start as we realized that, despite the significant hurdles the Russian government puts American travelers through to get a visa, once you've got your visa it's actually quite easy to get around. We were prepared, for example, for the airport checkin logistics to be kind of a nightmare with inspectors from every possible border related department scrutinizing our travel preparation. Not so. All we got was hello, here's your boarding pass, have a nice flight. I didn't even have time to ask for a window seat.

Once we were on the plane, we were happily surprised to find that our TransAero Kiev-Moscow commuter flight, all of 80 minutes takeoff to touch down, included meal service, complete with hot towels to freshen up with. So civilized! We were hungry so we ate gratefully while mapping out our strategy for getting from the airport to our hotel. Turns out there is a very efficient train service, AeroExpress I think it was called, that took us very comfortably from the airport to the city center, and from there it was a quick introduction to the workings of the Moscow metro lines and - boom! there we were, two Amerikanskies bursting out of the subway right into Red Square.

In our few moments of logistical confusion over how to buy tickets, an angel always seemed to pop up just when we needed one. "Do you need help?" our Moscow airport angel asked as we stared blankly at the first question on the automated ticket machine.

"Yes, please!" I said, and she walked us through a translation screen by screen until out popped our tickets. Two minutes later we were sprinting down the platform and jumping into the next train just moments before the doors closed. This turned out to be the very best way to beat the traffic into town, aside from the fact that it was also the most economical way to go.
Our angels were in full force as we approached the front door of the Hotel National on Red Square. Location was everything for us when we booked this room since we knew we would only have two nights in Moscow. By paying in advance, Trish got a good deal on a room at this gem of a five-star hotel right on the ploshad that leads to both Red Square and the Kremlin. A "good deal" was still $275 a night, but we decided early on that we were willing to pay for proximity. As we walked up the steps, the door magically opened for us at just the right time. This turned out to be the doing of the white-gloved hand of an ancient doorman. His warm welcome to Moscow was only outdone by the front desk manager, who must have seen something in us... whether it was empathy for her fellow females looking a bit tired and wrinkled, or a suspicion that inside our shabby looking bags were several bright, shiny high tech devices with which we would certainly use to post reviews of her hotel - whatever it was, we were pleasantly surprised when she informed her stoic faced underling that we were to receive a room upgrade. "You will have a jacuzzi in your room just for your own use," she informed us. Exactly what we wanted to hear!

Moscow wasn't all perfect. While Red Square and the Kremlin buildings were each awesome in their own way, with a great energy in the square, especially at night ("night" being sometime after 11:00 pm by the way, at this time of year), we mis-planned the timing for seeing Lenin's well-preserved body, which we both wanted to see. Turns out that Lenin takes a day off on Mondays. We also never did make a river tour (also a timing issue). We did, however, spend some time in GUM department store, which is an experience in itself. This was a very different GUM from the one I visited in Minsk... I think the Minsk GUM is probably a more authentic holdover from the Soviet days, while the Red Square GUM is more like shopping on Union Square in San Francisco.

Our final Moscow angel was the concierge at our hotel, who gave us very careful and compassionate instructions for finding our way to the train station that would take us to St. Petersburg. I think her name was Marina. Her face stern and serious, she spoke slowly and emphasized certain details that we will probably never forget. "When you get on the metro, you must get on the last car," she said. "The very last car... it is the one that will take you to the train station."

"The last car," we repeated.

"Give yourself..." she lifted her head and looked at us. How smart are these two, she must have been thinking. "Your train leaves at 1:30... so you should arrive at the station at 1:00. The train will be there at 1:00." She took off her thick reading glasses and made direct eye contact with us one at a time to make sure we were paying attention. "Now if it were me, I would take 15 minutes to get there. I would leave here at a quarter to one. But you..." starting us hard in the eyes now, "you must give yourselves time to think... time to look around. You should leave here at twelve. Twelve o'clock so you have time to look around, time to wonder..."

"OK" we said, "time to wonder."

"Maybe," I added, "to go in the wrong direction and then turn around and go the right direction?"

"Yes," she said, and seemed comforted by the fact that we did not argue with her assessment of our ability to negotiate the metro system.