Halloween 2005 - The Falujah Fantanas

Please note: The following message is absolutely true. Not one fact or description has been embellished and IT IS the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Really.

Don't you want a fatwa? I mean a Fanta!

Few people realize that the Fantanas, Sofia, Lola, Kiki and Capri, do not really live on a desert isle, nor do they run, dive, swim, or surf around the globe delivering Fanta to the needy of their own volition. These girls are working girls and doing a darn good job. How many of you could run around in tight clothes singing a song that is all of two lyrics in length; especially one that is like the "It's a Small World" theme song on crack.

So, who are the Fantanas? The girls are really from Fullerton, California and "Oh My Gawd," just like American Idol are being replicated all around the world. After extensive research the unapproachable Iraqi market was tapped for a Fanta Fatwa. Yes. Fanta was going to get in to the emerging market before the soda giants like Pepsi wedged their way in and what better way to tap this market than with the tried and true globally successful formula ... The Fantanas.

The Iraqi market is so new and the flavors so exotic, Fanta decided to add a few new characters to promote the additional flavors in its Fanta Girl line up. Now, to complicate the story, the Fullerton Fantas (i.e. the Original Fantanas) are required to escort the new girls to Falujah to help them acclimate and to mentor the newbies on what it is like to be a "Fantana." Lessons include, singing lessons, posture and of course etiquette (one should never offer a Fanta to a diabetic! Unless of course, the diabetic was old and feeble and had left a large sum of money).

Fanta learned the hard way not to send out untested girls into a foreign market. The Russian experiment ended with the formation of the Gyrl group T.A.T.U. and few sodas were sold and the bodies of the other four Fantanas were never recovered, though it has been rumored that they were caught filming adds for Russianlovematch.com. So Fanta has been leveraging the Halloween festivities to test the new girls in an arena that doesn't draw attention ... The Castro!

To be honest, the Falujah Fantanas are going to have to leverage their good personalities if they are going to promote the soda. The outfits are culturally correct though a touch more colorful.

View the Pictures!

New York for a Song

Now, no matter where I am

No matter what I do

I see your face appearing

Like an unexpected song

An unexpected song

That only we are hearing

~ Sarah Brightman, Unexpected Song

This is really an inaccurate quote since we were not the only people in New York City, we didn't see Sarah Brightman ... but it was a weekend to do different things and try different experiences, so in that sense, it was an Unexpected Weekend provided in part by Song airlines. Let me splain. It all started with a serendipitous moment when I was raving about Song airline to my cousin's wife. I spotted the Song semi-truck and then spotted a parking spot 30 seconds later and 30 minutes later I had won a round trip ticket to New York City. As with most things, there were stipulations to use the ticket and the major one was that the ticket had to be used prior to October 30, 2005. PRESSURE!

So Frank and I looked at our schedules, contacted Song and discovered that the only time we could use the ticket was less than ten days after our return from Europe. Oy vey. We opted for a long weekend in Manhattan and decided to wing it (i.e. nothing planned other than a visit to Malle on Long Island).

Click to view Photos.

The Flights

Song airline does many things well. The entertainment options are great - music, games, movies, food, etc. The flight attendants seem to enjoy their jobs - though the night crew need to silence the inside voices! Don't promote shaken martinis, then complain about being delayed for having to make a martini! And don't complain when you are still standing next to the people who you made the drinks! RUDE! Our return flight was much better. For some reason, it felt like we had less leg room in the exit row than the regular row, so all I'll say, is be careful of exit rows.

Just Another Cow Town

I have had a feeling for awhile that Red Eye flights should become a thing of my past but I still have that lingering lack of vacation time to balance my discomfort. Besides, either I'm getting bigger and need more recovery time or the planes are getting smaller. We arrived at 6:30 in the morning and took the A train to the 14th Avenue station, walked past the hysterical little art displays (Click to see Photos!), and dropped of our luggage at the Chelsea Pines Bed and Breakfast.

So keeping with the "do the unexpected" weekend theme, we tried not to replicate our past experiences and were successful for the most part. The Chelsea Pines Bed and Breakfast is an affordable place to stay in a central location. The staff, however, could best be described as indifferent. We could come and go with barely a head nod to indicate that we were flesh and blood. The nonsmoking rule is apparently not applied to the office staff and seems to permeate through the movie themed rooms. And the color schemes. I'm not sure if it was intentional or if there was a sale in the alley of a side street, but the colors were reminiscent of a Cuban brothel that hadn't seem some love for awhile. Not that I've been in a Cuban brothel with my own eyes, let alone one themed on the great late actor Jeff Chandler.

I don't think I'd use the word "small" to describe the room. Perhaps "narrow" would be a better word. The toilet was large enough that a backup dwarf from the Wizard of Oz could sit comfortably and still shut the door (do the math). The shower was wide enough to allow my shoulders to brush the sides if I stood with my back to the shower head, so it was pretty much a sideway shower option. The bed was pushed up against the side of the wall to allow for a little walkway on the right. If you've been to summer camp and spent a week on a mattress placed on a board, you'd have an understanding of the comfort level of the bed. Suprisingly, we slept in late each morning, though I would venture that it was due to jet lag instead of the "comfy" mattress.

ANYWAY, we arrived, we dropped off our stuff and then began to wander. Now I'm going to get in trouble for this, but at this time of day the NYC neighborhoods are kind of like miniature ghost towns. I would not have been surprised if a tumble weed had rolled down in front of us and Frank says San Francisco is a cow town! There is nothing happening and honestly it is a little eerie considering the throngs of people that begin to emerge by 9:00. We had a pleasant walk (by ourselves and the occasional dog walker) and spent a bit of time looking for someplace to eat. Now, I have a theory about diners (which Frank loves) and I am ok with a meal at a diner for breakfast and in a pinch, lunch. Dinner is sacred. We're in flipping New York City and a diner is not going to cut it! Following the breakfast, we headed over to the South Seaport to wander and to see what would be on the boards for halfprice shows on Broadway. Options were limited and we were tempted with forbidden fruit - Spamalot .

To Be Scalped or Not?

Not that it is a great moral dilemma, but when is it ok to purchase tickets from a scalper? Honestly, the greater discussion we had surrounded our concern over the legitimacy of the tickets. Would we be able to see the show? To be fair, we tried to get tickets for the show before arriving in town and the only awailable seats were partial views (i.e. 15 minutes of the show could be heard but not seen!) and cost $10 less than what we paid for center balcony seats. We would have had to pay Ticketmaster a service fee of $7.50 each, so really it was just a matter of seeing the scalper in person! Obviously we took the seats and saw the show, which was absolutely hysterical. It was hyper-produced, funny, fast-paced and irreverent. My kind of show and totally unexpected.

We saw a total of three shows over the course of the weekend, Spamalot, Sweeny Todd (w/ Patti Lupone) and The Light in the Piazza. One could argue that they were all musicals, but each was unique in its own right. As mentioned, Spamalot was the over-the-top parody of the traditional musicals with Monty Python humor.

Sweeny Todd was the opposite kind of production in that the actors were also the musicians and everything was played onstage without scores. I can't say that I want to run out and buy the broadcast album but as theater experiences go, this was a memorable one. Here's what an online article had to say:

Celebrating its 25th anniversary, Sondheim's musical masterpiece is set in darkest Victorian England and tells the infamous tale of Sweeney Todd, the demon barber who forms an enterprising business relationship with Mrs. Lovett, the
proprietress of the downstairs pie shop.

In this chilling and unique production -- a vision of director and set designer John Doyle -- no one leaves the stage and the players are also the pit musicians, with each of the ten actors playing at least two instruments each.

The Light in the Piazza was magical. The thrust stage and the set is one that a road-show would be hard pressed to replicate. When the mother cried, we were close enough to see the tears running down her face. And the fact that it was in English and Italian added to event. Here's a brief summary of the story.

THE LIGHT IN THE PIAZZA takes place in Italy in the summer of 1953. Margaret Johnson, the wife of a well-heeled American businessman, is touring the Tuscan countryside with her daughter, Clara. While sightseeing, Clara, a beautiful,
surprisingly childish young woman loses her hat in a sudden gust. As if guided
by an unseen hand, the hat lands at the feet of Fabrizio Naccarelli, a handsome
Florentine, who returns it to Clara. This brief episode, charged with coincidence and fate, sparks an immediate and intense romance between Clara and Fabrizio. Margaret, extremely protective of her daughter, attempts to keep Clara and Fabrizio apart.

As THE LIGHT IN THE PIAZZA unfolds, a secret is revealed: in addition to the cultural differences between the young lovers, Clara is not quite all that she appears. Unable to suppress the truth about her daughter, Margaret is forced to reconsider not only Clara's future, but her own hopes as well.

Going Out

As I mentioned, diners are for breakfast! We tried new restaurants and returned to a couple of favorites. At night we tried to wander to new locations and thanks to Frank's old friend Charlie and his girlfriend Eva, were introduced to a couple of local places that we might not have ventured in to. Good times. We even ran into Gerard at the Eagle and had a little chat. Gerard is the writer, director, producer of the show, Forbidden Broadway. If you have a chance to see the show, say heh!

I have to say that the most memorable evening out was when we traveled with Noah and his ark to dinner. There was thunder. There was lightening, and my shoes with a hole in the sole sucked up so much water that my right foot was basically a mobile lake.

Aside from meeting old friends, Betsy, Malle, Grandma Uzman and of course Charlie and Eva, it was a relaxing little weekend that felt more like a vacation than our vacation. We found Billy's Bakery (the new Magnolias) rode the Roosevelt Tram and purchased a new pair of shoes. It was a full, yet relaxing weekend and as always I look forward to our next adventure in New York City (coming some time in 2006!).

Scandavian Tour Pictures - 2005

It is with a heavy set of fingers that I enter the following information because it indicates that the trip is truly over and a thing of the past. Frank and I have divided the photos into the different aspects of our trip or if you prefer a true "snapshot" of the trip - check out the edited version.

Photo Collections:

Helsinki, Finland- View Now (74 photos)

Talinn, Estonia - View Now (38 photos)

St. Petersburg, Russia - View Now (41 photos)

Stockholm, Sweden- View Now (25 photos)

Copenhagen, Denmark- View Now (17 photos)

Edited Highlights - View Now (30 photos)

The Final Countdown - Hairspray, On the Town and Porvo

How does one translate, "Hey Momma. Welcome to the Sixties!" or "Good Morning Baltimore!" ? I would write the Finnish translation of the musical Hairspray, but my Finnish is a bit rusty. Some day, when I reincarnate as a cow I'll be able to speak four languages fluently, though hopefully, not Norwegian (more on that later).

Anyway, Frank returned from Copenhagen where he got a private tour of parts of the palace and the Royal Stables with his friend Krista. He got to dine with Krista and Leo, Krista's dog, at Ida Davidson's, a famous open-faced sandwich restaurant, take a boat tour and basically had a wonderful time in wonderful Copenhagen (everybody sing the song ... you know you know it).

Back in Finland, Jakke and Antti got tickets to the John Waters musical, Hairspray for our birthdays and since we've seen the show a couple of times, not understanding the Finnish translation would not lesson the experience. We looked forward to seeing how they would mount the show and had the added pleasure of having Marina, an old friend that I know through Jakke, join us. We had dinner and then headed to the theater.

Hairspray

If you haven't seen the movie or the play, the story is basically about a chubby girl who dreams of dancing on the Corny Collins Show (i.e. American Bandstand), racial integration, and weightier issues such as ... the height of one's hair! The mother of Tracy is played by a man in drag, okay a very BIG man in drag. Our seats were great and for once we didn't have to worry about blocking anyone's view (Stadium seating). The set design had two giant wing-back chairs that would rotate around during parts of the show to reveal smaller raised platforms and a giant TV framed the center of the stage and framed the TV show. We were very excited as the lights went down.

The lights come up and two giant (as in 20 feet big) cow heads were in the middle of the tv screen. They spoke in Finnish, then English. And yes, their mouths mouthed (or flapped) with the dialogue.

Imagine if cows could speak ... now imagine if cows could speak and did so very slowly!

Cow 1 - I am a br own cow.

Cow 2 - I am a black bull.

Cow 1 - And if you don't turn off your cell phone, or take pictures

Cow 2 - or take movies,

Cow 1 - We will bite you!

Cow 2 - Yes, yes. We will bite you!

Imagine the cows laughing and then the cows start speaking in Chinese, which caused everyone to giggle. The lights went out and Tracy started in on her Good Morning Baltimore song in Finnish. Like I said, the staging was a little different and to be honest in some aspects was more complex than the Broadway version. There were some odd details such as the cows, which for some reason showed up at the end of act one with sirens and lights - perhaps they saw someone taking a picture! Other things like the dancing teddy bears at the beginning of the show and the soup kitchen backdrop. I suspect that the picture of the whites in a car driving to "Success" with the blacks in a soup kitchen line up was to illustrate the economic inequity of the time period. This becomes more ironic when the "blacks" were mulato at best, and Motormouth Mabel, while definately blonde and beautiful was not "big" in the robust Ricky Lake big but the big as in "I could nurse a small country to health big." Anyway, she had a great voice and apparently learned the dialogue and music in Finnish (she was a UK citizen).

Other than those minor differences, the show was a hoot from start to finish. The music was fun and with our "mental" English playing along, we didn't miss a beat of the show. Thanks boys!

Out on the Town

Unbeknownst to us, Marina had an agenda and we were going to meet it. She was going to be speaking Norwegian before the nights end. We headed to a local pub, which was packed with the 30 something crowd drinking to the sounds of the 70's and 80's. Getting a table was fine, the conversation was good but the bathroom! The bathroom was cool. Located in the basement, there was a wide stairway going down and when you round the corner you see the bathrooms - literally. The would be solid wall was glass so that you could see the stalls in both the men and women's restrooms and watching people wash their hands. It was very Big Brother.

From there we headed to another pub, Mann's Street, where not only was it a Fandango it was Karaoke night! You know it's bad when you walk in the room and would rather listen to a cats scratching on a chalk board, it's bad. Marina insisted on Salmiakki shots. The liquor tastes like licorice and goes down smooth and burns the throat. We found a side room and continued chatting and during the folk Karoake, folk danced and continued drinking. I switched to water or what I thought was water. I found out the next day that my Finnish Water (i.e. I thought mineral water), was actually soda water with a tasteless vodka. Bad Marina. She met her goal and we put her in a taxi home. Jakke and Antti insisted we go out a little longer so we ended up at Hercules and danced until the lights came up.

While waiting for a taxi, Marina calls and cannot locate her keys. We head over to her house, pick her up and bring her home! Turns out she spoke a bit of Norwegian (i.e. threw up) and felt much better. Me? We danced the alcohol off and with a couple of glasses of water before going to bed and a Tylenol - felt fine.

Porvo - The Wooden City

Our final tourist destination was an afternoon in the small wooden city of Porvo. The town is basically a quaint town of houses that line the sea and now house a series of artist shops. I found a couple of handmade ornaments for Christmas and Frank found some great chocolates which, if were not so politically correct, I would describe here. We took a bus to the town and wandered around a bit before going home and packing for our flight home.

Heading Home

Let me just say that it is nice to have connections. We were walked through check-in, given access to the business lounge and given champaigne with our breakfast on the Helsinki flight to Frankfurt. The flight from Frankfurt to San Francisco was actually pleasant. Frank helped the Swiss stewardess and she became our friend (i.e. gave us free drinks on the flight). The old couple next to me were claustrophobic and were moving about which allowed Frank to move up and leave a seat between the two of us! I finished my third book, The Cloud Sketchers, which was about a Finn who moved from Finland to New York City to build skyscrapers - most interesting considering where we were leaving and the fact that we will be heading to New York City in a couple of weeks.

To summarize:

Countries Visited: Finland, Sweden, Estonia, Russia, Denmark (Frank only)
Cities Visited: Helsinki, Stockholm, Talinn, St. Petersburg, Porvo
Books Read: Eldest, Boys of the Brownstone, The Cloud Sketchers
Modes of Travel: Airplane, Train, Cruise Ferry, Speed Boat, Ferry
Mascot Travel Companion: Mr. Bunny
Pictures Taken: 250 (with Bunny - 75)
Most Unique Food: Bear Meatballs, Moikko (small lake fish), Reindeer
Best Chocolate: Talinn
Best Dinner Service: Roman at Troika in Talinn
Scariest Moment: Walk home from Sinners in St. Petersburg
Best Phrases: (insert city letter)PG (i.e. RPG = Russian Pocket Gay) and Fandango (i.e. 3 or more lesbians in one location)

Helsinki - The Home Base

Sitting here in front of Antti and Jakke's computer, I realize that I've been in and out of the country three times and am only now, nearing the end of our vacation, getting to settle in and enjoy the city. Granted, we had a few days before we ran off to Estonia but jet lag being what it is didn't allow us to enjoy everything all that much.

As with everything this trip, visiting has been a dual experience. There are things I want to see and share but it is clearly the tourist experience. The esplanade, while still lovely, meant something different to me when I had a 30 minute break and I spent 95% of it sitting in the sun eating strawberries. The Market Place still has the stalls of fresh seasonal fruits and vegetables and is currently holding the annual Baltic Herring festival ... and yet, it is no longer the "What is that?" experience. I feel responsible for helping Frank enjoy the city as much as I did six years ago and for the most part I think I've been successful. Antti and Jakke have also been excellent hosts and have given up their room and have made sure that we meet/see old friends.

Coincidentally, the Metro station near the boys is the same station I would use to get to work when I was staying out at Jollas Institutti. It is such a pleasure to be able to walk to the station and be downtown in less than ten minutes. We went out to some of the old haunts following a party the boys threw at their home and got to enjoy Hercules, a new club for me. We've taken the 3 Metro around the city, visited the rock church (literally built into the rocks), the National museum and will go to Porvoo this weekend.

Seurasaari - Island of Attacking Squirrels

Open air museums are always an interesting way to see the history of a place. Seurasaari is a fine example of how and entire island has been built for this purpose. In the summer it is the location of the Johanes Bon Fire and apparently it closes for the winter, though access to the island is still open. Antti did his best to determine whether we should spend the time getting to the island but the lovely people at the Tourist desk did not answer the phone. So we took the Metro downtown and the woman informed us that no, it was closed, and yes, we could still walk around.

We jumped on the 24 bus and headed out to the island. On the way, we passed the Sibelius monument, a statue comprised of pipes to look like a giant organ (as in church). Crossing the white bridge to the island, we passed ladies and their babies, dog-walkers and the occasional jogger. And while the buildings were locked for the season we were still able to enjoy the exteriors and made our way around the island.

I assume that the general tourist flow includes people who distribute crumbs and nuts to the ducks and squirrels. Everywhere we went was like attending a food line. The ducks would start quacking and making their way toward us and the squirrels were not against climbing one's leg to see if anything was available. Poor Frank had one climb his leg, go up on his chest and stare him in the face. He squeeled like a little girl claiming that the squirrel was trying to take his breath.

On Our Own

Frank and I had a night on our own last night since the boys were working late. We spent the day wandering and looking at the different sites. I found the National Museum is housed in a building that looks like a church from a distance. The collection begisn 1000 years ago and go through the pop culture of 2000! I think the pop culture exhibit was my favorite. Apparently in 2000 everything black was in. This exhibit also contained a looping collection of film clips that started in 1900 through to the current day. It was a fascinating snapshot of the country which included visits from a Czar, wars, celebrations, bombings in the city up to Gorbachev (sp) and Bush visiting for the Helsinki summit.

We discussed where and what to eat for dinner and opted for a Lapland restaurant called Saaga. Saaga did not have the same feel as Lappi - which I had eaten at years ago, but seemed nice and would be something new for both of us.

From their website - The birth of Saaga -

From Lapland in the far north came a whisper on the wind,
dancing with the northern lights to the echo of shaman drums,
waltzing through ancient forests, over middle marshes, sunbeams
picked out the golden cloudberry.
This whisper on the wind came south, bringing with it a myth,
a taste of age-old knowledge and tradition.
The whisper circled, searching for somewhere worthy of its message.
On the Bulevardi it spied that hearth, a home of good cooking and moore…
a kindered spirit.
This was where the whisper knew it would be heard loudest.
A chef heard that whisper and so to his dishes he added
a dash of Lappish charm and more than a pinch of Lappish taste.
Thus was a new story born – the Lappish restaurant Saaga

I'm not sure if it was the whisper of good cooking or just wanting to try something new since we just arrived and were seated upstairs in the non-smoking area, which seemed odd since the smoking area was downstairs and there was an open balcony which we were seated next to. Hmm. Anyway, our waiter was a jolly little fellow who encouraged us to enjoy a traditional Lappish appertiv which consisted of cranberries, vodka and a splash of sherry - just a hint of a cosmopolitan. Having finished that he thought that a small schnapps would help prepare our pallete's for our first course. And of course, I can't forget the Lapin Kulta (Lappish Beer) that also complimented the meal.

Appertiv

Crandberry infused vodka with cranberries and a splash of sherry
Schnapps - Number One

First Course

Schnapps - Number Two

Lamb, Gelatenous Lamb Goo and potatoes with a dill sauce - Ok, there is a name for the gelatenous goo which I've forgotten but which quite tasty. White Fish Fingerlings and slightly pickeled cucumbers with Creme Fresche - Ok, so I encouraged Frank to order this and it was served in three wooden bowls on a wooden platter. The fingerlings were actually lake fish which I know as "moiko." They are fried in butter and have a hint of batter but are pretty much served whole. It's like eating a french fry with eyes and a tail. Yummy.

Schnapps - Number Three

Second Course

Seared Reindeer steak - I'm not saying that Frank was not adventuresome, only that he did not order the most exotic thing on the menu ... BEAR. Which of course makes me wonder, if cows get Mad Cow Disease from eating parts of other cows will I get Mad Bear disease from eating Bear Meatballs and Sausage? I was going to be conservative in my ordering but was encouraged by the waiter to try the bear. I was wearing my bear undershirt so I felt like I was eating my young. Thank God Mr. Bunny was not there to witness it. Anyway, the presentation was amazing. The wooden platter held three items; a bowl of mashed potatoes, a miniature bowl of cranberries and a searing hot skillet with the meatballs and the sausage. The waiter filled the skillet with a liquid, held it over the candle and the skillet burst into flames. He then took the sauce and mixed together the gravy for the meal. YUM!!!! To be honest, I think that Frank's deer was much tastier but I did enjoy my meal and the fact that I was eating my young ... perhaps it is time to get away from my nicknam Mother Bear?

Our evening ended rather abruptly. Our tummies were full and our heads were happy and Frank had to pack for his quick trip to Denmark.

In the morning, I took Frank to the bus terminal so that he could catch a flight down to Denmark and visit his friend Christa. I get to hang with the boys, catch up on my reading and figure out more things to do with my camera. On Friday, Frank will be back and the boys are taking us to see Hairspray - The Musical (in Finnish). The show should be a hoot and a holler and I can hardly wait to see how the big Mamma's song, I'm Big, Blonde, and Beautiful is translated.

Stockholm - Cruising the Streets of the Old Town

I truly believe the best way to visit Stockholm is by boat in the morning. There cannot be a better way to prepare yourself to say hello and to introduce yourself to the city than by having breakfast by a window, watching the islands and summer homes pass you by as you draw nearer and nearer. Our entire trip, excepting a couple of downpours in St. Petersburg have been rain free and this morning was no exception.

Our friend Kata had a voucher for a free cabin for two on the Viking cruise line. The trip included transportation to and from Stockholm with a 6+ hour layover in Stockholm - about the right amount of time if you are more of a walker\viewer instead of a serious shopper. Anyway, we took the Metro downtown Helsinki and walked to the ferry terminal. The boats that surround the South harbor were building what looked like vendor stalls to the back of their boats - we found out later that they were preparing for the week long Baltick Herring festival which began on Sunday and will run through the weekend. Hmm. Yummy!

So we arrive at the terminal and are issued our room cards, shown the way to the boarding ramp and upon entry I scratched my nose just as the photographer took our picture; it looks like I'm enjoying a little preboarding snack! We were located on the fith floor below the Tax Free shopping and two levels above the parking area. It was a central room with easy access to the main passage areas and the sun deck. Our room, number 5606, was actually a four person room on an interior hall, so there was no window, however, it did include a lovely picture of a lighthouse that made the room seem a tad bigger. To be honest, I don't recall whether it was smaller or larger than the room I shared with Etan and Ben on the Hawaii trip - it was cozy and the bathroom even cozier. The shower had a curtain that prevented the mirror from getting splattered but pretty much filled the floor with water, which after a few shifting moments would drain with the rocking of the boat. We each claimed our bunk, then set off for the upper deck to wave and throw streamers at the little people like they do on the Love Boat - Frank opted to hum a few bars from Titanic which considering the darn boat sunk should have been chastised.

The view of the city of Helsinki from the upper deck of a ship is gorgeous. There are the spires from the Orthodox and Lutheran churches, the marketplace and as we left the harbor the view of the islands and the different fortresses. We had our picture taken and assisted some of the single folk with theirs. It was a night of adventure!

The Viking Line

The boat probably qualifies as a ferry instead of a cruise ship - though since the majority of the passengers do have cabins it feels more like a cruise than a ferry. The Tax Free shop got a lot of attention for the luxury items that could be purchased. Poor Frank and I were the only folks not dragging carts of beer around. We felt bad, since we didn't get any requests from the boys and we're not in to high-end parfumes and such. It was fun to walk around and translate what things would cost in dollars. Add to the experience the short dark haired woman who wandered around with here "Madonna" microphone hawking items in Finnish, Swedish and in English, it was a good time. We made our rounds past the pub, the fun club and the main dance floor. Settiling in for aisle seating we had a few drinks a watched the people parade by in their Saturday best.

Not that I'm bitter about losing my hair (yes, it is still there ... just thinning), there was some crazy hair going on. One woman looked like Elizabeth Taylor on the Flintstone's movie - huge ratty black hair, yellow top that displayed her MORE than ample assets. The outfit was completed with a jean mini-skirt and hooker boots. HOT. Her boyfriend looked like a drowned a rat, tossed it on his head, then teased it upright. Then there were they Gypsies - who we thought were going to be part of the floor show later, but turned out that they always dress like that ... oops. Anyway, it was a parade of colors, people, drunks, children, babies barely able to walk who fell down as the boat rocked and we had ring-side seats until it was time to go to the Viking Buffet.

We opted to attend the second seating of the Viking Buffet, figuring there would be less of the little ones running around spreading joy on the squeels of their high-pitched little angelic voices. We made our reservations and found we would be next to the window at the front of the boat - excellent. We shared a table with a Russian couple (no, I did not break into my new found language skills, nor did I share with them that we had just come back from Russia). It was pleasant but we did not break new ground on the East\West relations thing. Culturally speaking it was interesting to see how they piled their plates with fish and we went for the meat courses. The buffet was impressive and I tried some caviar but could interpret the various herring signs so opted for red meat, salads, and beer.

Since our tablemates were so talkative (niet) we conversed and made observations of the behaviour in the room. The table next to ours had appeared to be English speaking in the hallway prior to dinner but were Finnish speaking during dinner. Odd. I found it interesting that at a table of eight (8) people two (2) were dominating the entire conversation. The one guy looked like and acted like a miniature Jim Carrey. He sang. He looked shocked. He made funny faces. His partner in crime was a Cameran Diaz look alike and she kept up with the boy. Shots were had. Songs were sung and they made for great entertainment over our somewhat stolic meal with the Russians.

Following the meal everyone was located on the entertainment deck- some were singing Karaoke, while others were gambling in the Casino while still others were on the dance floor swaying to the tunes of Americana circa 1970. Frank's theory is that the oldies reach a broader cross-section of people. He's probably correct. Anyway, the dance floor was a mixture of people who obviously couldn't get away from their babies and infants (so they brought them with them), older couples and the professional danciong couple who looked like they eaten two carrots over the last year and spent the rest of their time perfecting their dance moves.

The rocking of the ship was not that drastic but it was hard to get comfortable on the narrow beds. We survived and enjoyed a gorgeous breakfast buffet and got a table next to a window and watched islands and small ships pass by as we cruised through the Archipelogo.

Stockholm by Foot

We tried to figure out how to use public transportation from the terminal to the old city, but ended up deciding to walk. It was only 1.5 km and took us less than 20 minutes. The old city is a quaint warren of shops and streets interspersed on an island in the heart of the city. We were early and during the first hour or so of our walk pretty much alone. We were able to window shop, find St. George and the Dragon, and have coffee and cinamon rolls at a family shop. The coffee shop was cozy and gave us just the rest we needed before heading up to the palace to witness the changing of the guard.

I have to mention that I love my new camera. Some of the shots seem really distant but with he zoom lense, we should be able to crop and zoom and have some pretty amazing shots. From the guards we went across the bridges and took pictures of canal art, which consisted of a nose and mouth floating on the surface of the water and a giant hand that would point different directions. Very amusing. Frank suggested that instead of doing another "palace" tour we try something slightly different. We visited a former private home that had been shut down upon the death of the Duchess and turned into a museum. All I can say is that I want to have a lot of money and go crazy on my family by cataloging everything. The woman had great taste but was cataloging bobby pins.

Now I'm not one to critize a lot of things but there are times when certain etiquette should be followed. We arrived, appropriately, for the 1:00 tour which was also the only English tour for the week. Our group was made up of three Danes, two Germans and ourselves. We had a little blonde woman who ensured that were were indeed English speakers on the tour (apparently there are times when the Swedish Tour is full so they join the other). Anyway, we are going through the different rooms and are upstairs in the nonpublic rooms when there is a massive clumping up the stairs. This Swedish Family of five comes in and during their stay with the tour did not stop talking, text messaging, and touching stuff (which our lovely guide requested that we do not touch anything). The parents just looked the other way or chatted themselves. RUDE. Maybe it is a good thing I live in SF where the adult to child ratio is fairly low.

Following the tour, we had about 90 minutes to get back to the boat. We found another family cafe and enjoyed live music in one of the many town squares. The weather, while sunny has that hint of fall, the crisp feel that makes you worry whether you've packed the right clothes. So having finished our beers, we had one more task to complete - procurring a tour poster for a friend.

I have to admit many of my posters were procurred from around Europe. Friends procurred many of them for me and I've done my fair share of procurring items myself. As most of you know, a friend of mine is a "fan" of the Backstreet Boys - actually Nick Carter, so when I saw the poster advertising a concert that took place a week ago, I knew that the poster would be in my bags, heading to America. The problem with procurring art depends on how the item was attached to the wall - in this case a garbage dumpster. The second problem is the guilt factor- the longer it takes to procure, the more guilty one might feel, especially if more people witness the procurement. My last procurement was a "Sex and the City" poster with was hung up with scotch tape - an easy job that took basically a tug and a roll. The BSB poster was more of a challenge. First, it had ripped at an earlier time and was taped across the rip. Additionally, the four edges were masking taped down to weather the elements. I also felt the pressure of the walkers and Frank's "Just do it!" I was able to remove the top of the poster but tore some of the side and bottom - then discovered that there was a brown chunk in the middle of the poster. I assume it was mud but since I was also standing in what smelled like a pool of dried urine, I couldn't be sure. I made the best effort possible and ripped and rolled and jumped back to the sidewalk. It is now folded neatly and my friend will have to determine what the substance was, since the remaining remenants will also be mailed.

Back on the Boat

We spent the day in the city (more on the later) and decided that after being on our feet for 6 hours a little time in the Sauna would be worthwhile. It was a good choice and a good time to go. There were few children at this point and we were able to rent swim suits - yes, we had to ask for the German Tourist size but they fit. Anyway, it was a pleasant space though I have to admit being a bit prudish when it comes to the staff. A woman came bouncing through the locker room and then the actual sauna where everyone was naked. Now, they had little paper towels for use in the sauna, which was fine. However, this man comes in with his 3 year old daughter, pulls her up on the bench. This is slightly disturbing already, but the child does something that is probably very natural ... she passes this huge long fart and it does not sound like the light and airy "oops-I-Have-Gas!" kind of fart but the scary chunky kind of fart that lasts a tad too long and makes everyone uncomfortable. I don't know what happened, but the father whisks his daughter out of the sauna and into the shower. He disappears for five minutes and then returns with a different child. The girl is no where to be seen ...

We ate ala carte the second night enjoying steaks and beer. Afterwards, we headed to the party deck and it was 180 degrees different than the night before. It could have been my imagination but the age range doubled in 24 hours. This was proven the next morning when at the buffet there were walker and cane check-in stands. We arrived in Helsinki and were surprised by Antti and a ride home. It was an excellent trip!

St. Petersburg - Our Russian Adventures

Someone mentioned recently that I should focus on the journey and not necessarily the destination. This is, of course, good advice but I would be remiss if i didn't include some of my internal insights or reactions. Each of the destinations on this trip are familiar to me in the sense that I've visited them before and yet, familiarity to me only provides perspective.

My First Trip

It was during the summer of 1999 and I signed up for a four day bus tour to St. Petersburg which included hotel accomodations and round-trip coach fair. On the way I met a couple who I ended up spending the weekend with - Latitia and Mateus. She was French and he was Polish, English was our common language. Our first meal was in a small unmarked cafe in the back of a corner market that had Russian Mafia and hookers entering and exiting during the time it took to eat our borscht. The city truly felt like a city stuck between communisim and capitalism. A brand new Mercedes would race by followed by a pollution spewing eastern block automobile. The magnificent palaces and buildings seemed faded visions of the past and nothing seemed marked with the tourist in mind. My friends were smokers and finally convinced me to try "just one." This was after the hydrofoil ride to the Peterof Palace. It was also the first time I saw a bear on the city streets and had my picture taken with one. The three of us danced on a barge and I got sick from the food - I discovered on this current trip, that it was probably the hot dog from a corner vendor that did me in and not the restaurant. I spent the last night in the bathroom on the toilet/shower because of internal intestinal issues.

So now, six years later, the trip was completely different. First, I was not traveling alone and second, I new to anticipate some of the difficulties we had encountered during my first trip.

Day 1 - Trip to St. Petersburg

The Train Trip

Unlike the bus, the train was a Finnish train and was nicely maintained, included a dining car and we, Frank, Antti, Jakke and myself were able to travel together. We shared our car with an American tour, who like most Americans, were LOUD! Our train left a something like 7:30 in the morning, so we were a little quiet and a little anxious about crossing the border and getting to our hotel. There was some excitement with the bathroom ... because when you flush, it goes right on the tracks! I have a video of the toilet flushing, which I took with my camera - not the most exciting but amusing all the same. It was almost as exciting as seeing a real "moose crossing" sign alongside a local road beside the tracks.

The Border Crossing - First Impressions

Crossing the border, while uneventful really helps one to realize that we are entering a completely different country. The border guards walk along the tracks, paperwork is checked, and there is a lot of waiting that takes place. Each time a guard would pass, we could smell a wave of tabacco following him. Once the crossing process was finished, we had a couple of hours to enjoy the Russian countryside until we entered our station in St. Petersburg. According to my guide book (about ten years out of date), we were going to cross a magical curtain from the new to the old. It didn't happen - people were walking across the tracks, the communist block housing line the tracks and it looked like we were entering a third world county. Then ... we arrived at our station. The train slowed down and music welcomed us and the train station was magnificent, it felt more like a modern airport than a train station. Antti was our guide and with our bags we headed to the Metro with the locals.

The Metro is like most others we've encountered only deeper. Getting a Metro coin (10 rubles/30 cents) we stepped on to the fast move escalator and began to descend. It felt like we were going 10 stories+ down and the grade of the escalators was quite steep. Once in the system, the stations were actually quite gorgeous, but there was not a word of English to be seen. Thank God for Antti. He figured out which tram to take and we were off to our station and only a block (albeit a LONG block) from our hotel the 5th CornerHotel.

The 5th Corner Hotel - Extra for "Overnight Guests"

The first hotel that I stayed in was called the Hotel Neva. It was a dark, unfriendly place that provided employment to a lot of people, though not necessarily a lot of work. Each floor had it's own "monitor" who would keep the key to your room. If for whatever reason your monitor was not on duty, it was up to you to locate a different monitor to assist. This is not a helpful process when your intestines are trying to reach the surface and there is not visible assistance.

To my surprise the 5th Corner was very modern. We checked in, the people spoke English, the rooms were quite nice and the bathrooms were immaculate - actually much nicer than many of the ones in New York! I think the work clean and modern are accurate ones to use to describe the place. Breakfast was in a trendy little restaurant on the first floor and we were surprised to see many contact numbers at the desk for "VIP Escorts." The boys later informed me that if someone had a "guest" there would be an additional 20 Euro charge, but that linen and breakfast would be included! How thoughtful! Now I'm not a prude but it is a little surprising (not shocking!) that all of the tourist maps include information to escorts such as Liza and Lora (warning: the links include a bit more than just romantic walks on the beach). I guess a lot of men might need a little help getting around the city from a local - we had Antti, but it's nice to know that help was only a phone call away.

The First Walk About

It is wrong to compare Talinn with St. Petersburg since the old city of Talinn is really dedicated to tourists and to visitors. St. Petersburg was built to impress and to be on par with Paris and other major capitols of Europe. Some books made reference to it being the "Venice" of the North, but that is also a misleading description, since, Venice is also on a much smaller scale. Our hotel looked, on the map, to be fairly close to all of the major sites that we wanted to visit. We decided that a walk about would be a good thing to do to acclimate ourselves to the city and to get a feel for where to go and such the following day.

We found the major roads. We located the Hermitage and the Church of the Spilled blood. We inhaled the pollution from the cars and we discovered that the blocks in St. Petersburg are long and the three canals that we had to take to get to major areas were not itty bitty. There were no gondolas floating along but there were boat tour hawkers on most corners making announcements in Russian about the next tour opportunities. On the side streets, the sidewalks were narrow and uneven. Now, it may sound that I wasn't impressed. I was and still am. However, much had changed in the past six years. The shops and stores, while difficult for a mere monolinguist such as myself to determine were more available and present - no longer hidden behind shops. The cars were new and the number of old vehicles were probabaly down to 10% of the total number of cars being driven. Building were in the process of restoration everywhere we went and unlike Talinn it did not feel as though the primary motivation of restoration was to create a destination, the city felt like a major city in the process of restoring its infrastructure for commerce.

Aside from the buildings being restored, I must comment on the fashion. As I mentioned, there were a lot of shops, many of them quite trendy and fashions were quite sensible. However, on the street, I swear that a circus came to town and people took their cues from the clowns. Men, women, children, babies in strollers had bad hair. Not just bad hair, but clear colors that indicate a sense of animosity toward anything remotely natural. Now, I'm not going to make any borad sweeping statements, but the lovelies that went wild with their hair also seemed to avoid shopping at the trendy shops were passed by and were quite taken with Las Vegas Hooker wear; knee high boots, micro miniskirts with a variety of fishnet stockings and such. Interestingly, few leveraged the low cut pants that allows everyone to share a little plumbers' crack.

Drinks in the Russian TGI Fridays

Needless to say, that all of that walking made us a bit thirsty. We saw a beer barrel sign and figured it would be a good place to stop. We were correct, although it felt like we had just entered a Russian version of TGI Fridays. The rooms were somewhat themed in a military theme; pictures, recording equipment, and such. There was also a submarine room where patrons had to step through a portal to enter the room. We were the only Americans in the room and enjoyed ourselves along with the locals. Once we finished, we were hungry and set off to find a meal. The group consensus ended up in a trendy little spot that was affordable, quick and tasty. I must add that the bathroom was also a delight! And there was table behind us where the men did not speak Russian but their dates did ... could they have been escorts?

Mosquito Attack

Following dinner, we decided to call it a night since we had a full day planned. Midway through the night I was scratching, slapping, tossing and turning. Frank asked if I was awake and we discussed whether or not there were bedbugs. We tried to sleep with the covers over our heads and finally got some sleep. In the morning we discovered that we had invited a bunch of friends to spend the night with us - mosquitos. We thought it was too late in the season for the little buggers but were obviously wrong. The front desk gave us a wall fumagator and we went out for the day. At least we didn't have to pay for our overnight guests!

Day 2 - A Russian Fantasia

Breakfast with the Ugly Americans

Again, on my first visit we were lucky to get a piece of bread and a slice of cheese, so when we arrived in the restaurant for our morning meal and saw the spread of fresh fruit, juices, bread, pastries, cheese and meat, well, my not-so-little tummy did a backflip. We settled in at our table and were commenting inappropriately about the older man with a wedding ring and his companion - a very attractive woman with hooker boots and boobs on display. Either she was a trophy bride (sans wedding ring) or someone was leveraging the companion services available throughout the city.

Anyway, this older American couple enters the room and starts with simply requesting eggs. Then they wanted their eggs and when told that eggs were not available started wandering toward the kitchen demanding to see the cook. The poor waitstaff had a beligerant american and his frumpy wife on hand. And they wouldn't stop. For 30 minutes they fussed and fumed and kept trying to get someone to get them an egg. Good God people, it is just an egg. I felt a little guilty about the spread that we had to choose from and yet these people wanted more, more, more.

Hermitage

Silly me. On our first walk about I wore my undershirt, long sleeve shirt and a jacket and was praying that someone would mug me so I wouldn't have to carry the weight around. So, it appeared to be a nice day and I was going to wear a short sleeve shirt. The boys gave me grief, so I acquiesed and wore the long sleeve sweater. Ten minutes from the hotel, it started to rain.

Museums are great places to go to when the weather is not cooperating. however, it took us an additional 30 minutes to finally slosh through the rain only to be confronted with a sign that informed us that we were not at the American entrance. We tried it anyway and were soon paying triple the Russian fee to enter the museum. According to the guide book, if you spent one minute on each item on display, it would take you 11 years to see everything. It's a big place. We opted for the American walk through. The rooms were spectacular. The ball rooms amazing and the thrill of sneaking a picture or two was most exciting. I snuck a picture of the Angel of Death taking a soul to heaven which and a few others. We even found the picture that the teams from the Amazing Race had to find.

We were planning on only being inside for a couple of hours, four hours later we emerged. Granted this is still 10 years, 364 days and some hours short of the maximum but were filled with artistic wonder and empty of food. This started the let's eat game, where we walk into a cafe and they tell us what isn't available and we walk out. It usually took 3 - 5 trys before we could settle on a location.

Church of the Resurrection

It seems odd to say that a church is not a church even though a rose is still a rose no matter what you call it. So the Church of the Resurrection is not a church but actually a museum. Quibble Quibble. Anyway, the museum is gorgeous and has been painstackingly restored. Apparently the communists felt that the church, with it's onion dome and prominance as a structure within the city would serve the community better as a warehouse. Warehouses are not known for their delicateness, and considering the before and after pictures, the "museum" had a lot of damage during the years.

Now, it is mosaic masterpiece. The faces of the saints and the stages of the cross are so lifelike and the domes and angels truly breathtaking. There is not a single inch of the interior that is not covered and if you are in St. Petersburg, you must see it.

Pick-Pocketed

Sunglasses have not faired well on this trip, not that they were necessary items considering the amount of rain we experienced. My sunglasses decided to join the landfill in Russia after they broke in my backpack on the way to St. Petersburg and poor Jakke, his were pick-pocketed and are probably being worn by a tourist someplace.

It happened after we went to the museum, which considering it used to be a church should have provided a touch of protection. We were considering which path to take to get home and had a map out. When we started to leave a man approached us with two newspapers in English. He asked me if I wanted tickets to the Hermitage or if I wanted to buy a paper. I said, "No." and kept walking.

The man then approached Jakke who had his glasses hanging from the shirt. He started shoving the papers at Jakke, who told him to get away. Then Jakke started yelling at the guy and the guy was beligerant. He didn't know what Jakke was talking about. He didn't have anything. We English speakers were assholes to accuse him and then he walked away. Luckily, that was the only item he got, we all had our wallets, our health, our family and friends. Yes, it felt like a violation. And it added to our awareness of our surroundings and who and what brushed up against us at all times.

Shinok - Ukranian Dinner with Sergei (UPG)

After our successful find of the restaurant the night before, we thought we might stay close to the hotel and try a little country food. Shinok was well recommended and when we arrived, without reservations, we had to wait for a table. This is a good sign of a culinary experience to come! And according to our guide, it was a genuine Ukrainian tavern which included live music 7.00 p.m. to 11.00 p.m., folk group performances 9.00 to 10.30 p.m. and all major credit cards accepted.

The originality of Ukrainian national cuisine finds expression, in the use of such ingredients as pork, salo (pork fat) and beetroot. Salo is perhaps any Ukrainian's favourite food: it can be served as a dish on its own, in the form of crackling (fried salo) as well as a base for many other dishes. It is even used in sweet dishes, blended with sugar and treacle. Shinok serves traditional Ukrainian dishes, without a European gloss (as is the fashion these days) - "Katsap" salad; "Ukraine" salad; noodles mixed with cottage cheese and sour cream; vareniki (dumplings) with cheese, potato and mushroom, or cherry; "golubtsi" (vine leaves stuffed with rice and meat); buckwheat kasha with crackling; fritters; Chicken Kiev; pork roll; "Poltavsky" and "Chernigov-sky" borshch.

After watching the live music, which consisted of a husband/wife team singing to a electronic keyboard, we were seated. Shortly thereafter the hostess informed us that there was an "issue" with the kitchen and that we could only order from the grill options and the cold starters. Not realizing that the meal would stretch out for three+ hours, we ordered borscht and beer and a few vodka shots (for medicinal reasons). Our waiter, Sergei wouldn't smile at anyone but Antti, that is until Frank tried his Russian on him. Whatever, bring me my borshch!

The restaurant had the feel of a basement at Disneyland. The low ceilings, the plastic flowers, the effort to recreate a feel for Ukraine was evident everywhere. At one point, folk singers entertained, though the women at times sounded like two cats singing a duet and the man on the accordian smelled like he could benefit from a few showers.

We waited. We finished our beers. We waited some more. We had a shot of vodka. We waited. We had another beer. Antti and Frank's borshch arrived. I waited. They ate. Couldn't they wait? I mean they had cold soup in the first place. It's not like it was going to heat up or anything. Poor Jakke hadn't even ordered a starter. Finally, my warm borshch arrives and my tummy is a little happier. Then ... we waited again. Everyone around us finished and then a couple - possibly a "guest" for the evening sat down next to us. They waited. Soon we had nothing better to do than to speculate on whether Sergei was what Antti refers to as a "UPG" or a Ukranian Pocket Gay. This is not to be confused with Roman the "RPG" or Russian Pocket Gay although there is way to many distinctions to bother with at the moment. Does the location of one's employment determine your status? Couldn't Roman be a EPG (Estonian Pocket Gay)? and why do they all have to be short? What about the tall boys? Are they UTG (Ukranian Trouser Gays). BRING ME FOOD.

After a bit of apologizing, the food arrived and it was fabulous. We had stuffed pork, curry chicken on skewers and as a token of their appreciation they brought Ukranian dessert wine with ice cream. It could have been water from the canal, but who am I to speculate. The clowns that came with the ice cream found their way to Mr. Bunny! I have black mail pictures to show that he did not behave. Bad bunny.

From dinner, it was time to sin, so we headed off down the street to Sinners.

An Evening at Sinners

The Everything You Need to Know About St. Petersburg described Sinners as a Magical Castle with nonstop Disco and included a "face check." Now a face check could mean a lot of different things ... I'm assuming that the Bjork look-alikes might not be allowed in the place. I was wrong. The face check was simply the guard at the door who, when you knocked, slid open a door and would "face check" you and then open the door to let us in. We were early enough that the face check was not in service ... we simply opened the door.

Call me critical but a "magic castle" means a bit more fluff, whisps of snow floating down like in the Chronicles of Narnia with perhaps a mural of an ice queen for an ironic touch. Nope. This was more like bad dungeon theme meets fun house decor. At one point the theme may have been amusing and if it was in reference to one of Dante's Inferno would have at least made rerefence to the club's title "Sinners" and their logo of two red angels facing each other.

So I quibble. After the three hour dinner at the Ukranian restaurant, Frank was ready to call it a night. The boys and I had to rally for our last night in town and see what the local boyz had to offer. As I've mentioned the streets are long and at night they are long and dark. It was a little scary walking to the club, which on the map looked like it was around the corner. 15 minutes later, we've entered and were priveledged to pay the visitor fee and were given a card which would hold our drink orders until we were to leave the club. Let me state that if the place was crowded and there was a fire ... we would all be dead. Luckily, there was no fire and our being there increased the percentage of patrons significantly.

Sinners is a three-level club with attractions on all levels. The first floor is the primary disco and included a go-go boy dancing on a box at various occasions. There were mirrors and of course the obligatory boy dancing with a girlfriend but who was really dancing with himself in the mirror. The next floor was the balcony which had a private room for the drag queen divas who arrived around 12:30 to hold court in privacy. The bathrooms were also located on this floor, however, there was a toilet which I thought was serving as a urinal located in the hallway next to the stairwell going to the third floor. Enough said about that. The top floor was like a separate bar with different music and was more loungy than the first and second.

It was here that we discovered Antti was being stalked by what looked like a Russian Boy Scout. We'd move to one side of the room and the boyscout would move. We'd sit down and the scout would sit next to us. Frank's theory is that the youngster was trying to use Antti to get to Jakke. My theory is that he was trying to get to Antti's wallet. We'll never know. We stayed about an hour or so and then headed home, in the dark, through construction, in the dark, over the bridges, in the dark, to our hotel, which was well lit and welcoming. We'd sinned enough at Sinners to call it a night.

The mosquitos were taken care of and everyone got a much needed good night's sleep.

Day 3 - Final Walk About

Any time a trip comes to an end there is the anticipation of being prepared to go home. How much time is enough to get to the train station? Do we have our passports? Can we check out bags at the hotel after we check out? And everything worked out. At breakfast the ugly Americans had moved on, our friend and has "trophy" wife came in and she still wasn't wearing her wedding ring. Hmm. The gentlemen from dinner two nights before were without their dates from the previous evening. Hmm. What happens in St. Petersburg probably stays in St. Petersburg.

We checked out and headed out on our journey to trace the steps of the Amazing Race and headed to the statue of Peter the Great, which we located and ran into the Bridezilla's and their wedding parties. Apparently, part of the wedding process is to run around town with the wedding party, drinking champagne and having your picture taken with the major monuments in the background. There also seems to be a particular loop that is followed, since we kept seeing the same brides at the major sites that we were walking to. They were at the Church of the Resurrection. They were at the lighthouse pillars with ships, in front of the Hermitage, Peter's statue and I'm sure many others that we were unable to get to by foot. I'd love to be a cop in College Place, Washington at the end of their journey. It would be like fishing in a barrel! Of course there could have been a designated driver ... but from what I saw, there was just a lot of celebrating involved!

The boys wanted a little KFC, so we stopped on our way back to the hotel. It tasted like chicken. The Metro was packed but we made it back to the train and boarded easily enough. The music sent us on our way and was a pleasant end to the journey. A not so pleasant event was at the border. The female custome agents came down the aisle and questioned random people as to their purpose of their trips and the location of their luggage. This was also followed by a question as to whether there was anything to declare or not. Well ... the only thing I had purchased was a few post cards and some CDs from a store. I'm absolutely sure that the merchandise was legitimate and that Gwen Stefani and the others will get their cut of the royalties!

Apparently, responding in the native tongue is not well received. My "Nyet" earned me the honor of pulling down my bag and having the lady paw through my dirty underwear. She should be glad that I was more careful about my diet during this trip! She hadn't even dug deep enough to find the CDs before she pushed forward to the guy with a poster tube! We were all a bit tired and enjoyed the vistas as they passed by our windows and our books.

Good times.