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.

Talinn - A Wee Wonderful City

Talinn is many things and the old city is a reminder that a healthy diet of milk and preservatives plus good tall stock (thanks Mom & Dad) created people who are just a touch taller than those who built the Old City of Talinn. I would be exagerating, something I rarely do, if I said it was Lilliputian but there were many stores that it would have been much easier to enter if I was say 5'1" instead of 6'4" - more on that later.

Anttii arranged a package deal that included the ferry ride and hotel for the night. The Sokos Hotel is located on the edge of the Old City and was very convenient. Six years ago the same park and location seemed dusty with prospects and the impact from Communism was more evident - the big news was the opening of a tall bank! With that said, the past six years have been very good to Estonia. There is a new harbor, dozens of ships arriving daily and a sense of pride in restoring the city back to pristine condition with shops, restaurants, activities, etc. We checked into our 3 star hotel, got upgraded to a business room, dropped our bags and did a little exploring.

The Old Town

Dating back to the 13th entury, the old section of Talinns is a maze of winding cobblestoned streets, hidden courtyards and spired churches that were somehow maintained throughout the past hundred or so years. There are the medieveal wall ramparts and 20 towers that surround the town and are at times included as part of the buildings. It is nearly impossible to walk a 100 yards without a peak down a small alley that might hold charming little shops, a cloistered patio or another little link to a parallel street. The wall might be the back of a house or the stall of a wool merchant. Again, I was impressed six years ago, but the Estonians seem to have taken extra care in restoring the buildings, painting, new roofs, new and welcoming storefronts and without tacky neon. We hiked through the town square and up to the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral- the landmark Russian Orthodox Cathedral named after the duke in the 13th century. The town seems to be a "cat" city - the pottery, the linen, the tourist postcards, have cats on them.

During our second day in Talinn we started tasting our way around town - chocolate shops and pastries. We also climbed to the top of the Niguliste Church tower which is now a museum. For 25 kroner each, we discovered how out of shape we are. The stairs (250+) were a set of two spiral staircases where the steps might have been 6" wide at the ends. The stairwell was so narrow that when I tried to take a picture of Anttii and Frank behind me, I could barely keep my belly out of the view ... hmm, ok, so the problem might be a combination of issues! Anyway, we huffed all the way to the top and enjoyed the grand views of the city and the harbor. Our day ended with a "authentic" Estonian meal at the Kuldse Notsu Kortts - a little restaurant that served a lot of piggy in a lot of different forms.

We helped the economy by purchasing several items from little shops throughout the city. Several of the shops were in the lowere sections of the city and it really felt like going down into a hobbit hole. I had to not only duck but crouch to enter several of the shops.

Troika

Antti recommended that we try a Russian restaurant for dinner our first night. Troika is one of those places that you would walk if you didn't know it was there. Off the main plaza in the city center, you walk down a hall and down a narrow stairway into the cellar. Roman, our waiter, was quite skilled at serving ice-cold vodka from four feet about the glasses on the table. The food was delicious and aside from the ten minutes when the fire alarm rang - was an absolute delight. We enjoyed, blini, meat soup, cucumbers with honey, steak, beef stroganoff and chicken Kiev. I can only hope that the food in St. Petersburg is on par and that the service (i.e. the servers) are as attractive.

Out on the Town

There are two family establishments in the old town - X Bar and Angel. Angel has a nightclub downstairs on Friday and Saturdays which we missed since we were there on Sunday. Upstairs, it was a pleasant surprise - especially in contrast to the X Bar next door (which is why I mention it first). Angel is like an angel - open, light and airy; a combination of a restaurant and lounge. The bathroom stalls were labeled "hetero" and "homo" which I found most amusing. The music wasn't obtrusive and after a couple of drinks we called it an evening.

X Bar - Hmm. I'm not sure how to describe the place. To call it the "gay" bar of every town gives it too much credit but if you walked in you would immediately recognize it as such. First, it was dark and little of no class; one of those places where touches of tacky neon were installed years ago and never taken down. The obligatory Tom of Finland poster hung one wall plus a few strings of Christmas lights. The bar tender was a grumpy lesbian with the fake red hair that kind of glowed in the black light. Scattered throughout the bar was a collection of people that made for the most interesting of floor shows.

First, it was Fandango night (i.e. a gathering of three or more lesbians in one location). They were the young sporty lesbians with the short cropped hair (#5) and leather apparel, loud but not obnoxiously so, they were having a good time and on occasion would trip past to have a dance on the metallic dancefloor (very leatherbar circa 1983). Passed out on the table was the form of a person (male or female) who was oblvious to all of the goings on with the girls. The other patrons in the room included a guy who would rush to the bathroom, light a cigarette, fall asleep and then repeat. Behind me was a couple of men, one of whom decided that it was beauty night and filed his nails for 45 minutes - he was sporting a 80's John Cusak mimi-mullet with a few blond highlights.

Time passed and the girls left and a second wave of people came in and sat down at the couch. Two guys looked liked that worked with the Russian Mafia on weekends and the person who was passed out turned out to be a guy. He woke up and was offered a drink from the new group of people. THEN a youngster comes in and his daddy who was sporting an inappropriate blonde hairdo comes in and is dancing about in white pants and a blue striped shirt (very Village People). We are just observing the parade of people and enjoying the eclectic mix of music - where else can you hear the opening of the Sydney Olympic song? There were bears, tweaks, goths, sporty lesbians, heavy tool-carrying lesbians, and the only thing missing seemed to be the drag queen! Not that we were not having a good time - we decided to check out Angel and it seemed a bit like heaven.

Talinn was a great two-day experience and will continue to become even more of a tourist's dream. I cannot rave enough about it and highly recommend it to anyone in the neighborhood. On the wall in the Estonian restaurant was the following saying, "A mouse never ran into a sleeping cat's mouth."

Just a Little Jet Lagged

It has been nearly five years since I've been in Helsinki and the old place is growing up. Starbuck's has not figured out that a country who experiences the dark for long periods of time might be perfect candidates for their products, so finding a cup of coffee to get over the jet lag has been difficult.

We left San Francisco Wednesday afternoon and after an 11 hour flight to Frankfurt followed by a four-hour layover we picked up our luggage and rode in Jakke's Volvo - boxy but safe! Anttii and Jakke have a cute two-bedroom apartment which is within five minutes from my old Metro station.

Our first day was spent wandering a bit around Helsinki. We visited Sokos and then wandered the esplanade and explored the farmer's market. Mr. Bunny has been featured in many pictures and will probably break up our relationship. Mr. Bunny is a nasty little finger puppet that Frank won at the Renaissance Faire. I amused by the fact that I can stick him on my finger and put him the frame for many of the "postcard" shots. Frank claims I'm taking more pictures of the bunny than I am of him. Apparently the bunny is more cooperative.

We have now booked a ferry trip to Stockholm which will depart the Saturday after we return from Russia. I'm praying that I don't get any food reactions ... that could be a deadly combination although if it let my buy pants from a regular store. I realize this is a digression but I was thoroughly traumatized at Old Navy when I discovered that A) I could not fit into a size 38 and B) the size 40's they carried did not have an inseam of 34 - translated, they had fat pants but only fat pants for short people.

In short, we are having a fabulous time and the weather is a balmy 65 degrees.

Camping on a Fallen Hero

The drive from San Francisco to Guerneville was an uneventful end to a very long travel day. The boys from Under One Roof were doing a weekend away and Frank had the honor of setting up our new Costco Tent (a.k.a. the Taj) for the two of us. In theory, the ten is configured to sleep 9 people. The reality, it is the perfect size for two 6'4" men.

The weekend was a relaxing one and Saturday was spent touring Korbel, eating and of course preparing our white trash dinner! Our resort had seen better days, though according to legend (See below) we could have been camping over the site where the body of a Marine was found - the victim of some of Charles Manson's followers.

I lived in a slummy trailer park called Parker's Resort on Neeley Road in Guerneville. Folklore has it that Charles Manson's Family had lived here in the 60's. (On November 8, 1972, a hiker discovered a hand protruding from the ground. It belonged to a 26 year old Marine who had been shotgunned and decapitated. Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme and two Aryan Brotherhood prison escapees were subsequently arrested in Stockton and charged with the murder.) The campground had hundreds of chickens, both hens and roosters, descendents of those raised by the Family. They lived wild, under trailers, in trees, shrubs, and junked cars. Every time I opened my trailer door, 30 chickens would stampede into my home on the hunt for bread crumbs, dog food, or anything else I had.

A good time was had and prospects look good for a second weekend in the future.

View Chris's Pictures
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What is up with Bob?

Eric, formerlly known as LA Ben, introduced Frank and myself to Hollywood Bob (HB) a few years ago. A fabulous screaming homosexual who is also a very amusing writer. If you haven't discovered "Love Handles" you should do so now.

At the bottom of his current column is a link to his previous ones. Sadly, as he is on the low road toward losing weight ... my journey has been on the high road (i.e. high caloric intact, high gym avoidance, etc.).

Happy Reading!

For those of you are wondering why Ben is now Eric or as HB calls him Beneric, here's the skinny.

For those of you who don't know the story... My mom named me Eric Shane Johnson, when I was born. Years later --when her life didn't turn out the way she wanted it -- she changed my name to Benjamin Michael Gunnar (she married an asshole). I was 9 years old, so it was a huge pain in the ass to explain to everyone that "Eric" wasn't good enough; NO, it doesn't make any sense. I've never really liked "ben". It's a dull name. "Eric" is sharp, and I'm trying to hone an edge.

My Brush with Katrina

As a West coast boy, I am familiar with the phrase "Duck and Cover." It is a very handy phrase, one that works in a natural disaster (i.e. the walls are shaking, Duck and Cover) or when visiting friends in East LA and the Uncle says, "Yo White Boy... Duck and Cover." Very simple and very useful. Now what does one do when there is a hurricane? According to anonymous sources in Florida a hurrican equates to consuming large quantities of beer at local hurricane party. Hmm. The roof is going to get ripped off the house and I'm going to be so drunk I won't miss it. I'll take good old earthquakes any day of the year. Yes, they are scary. Yes, they can be destructive, but there are simple rules to remember, duck and cover. With the proliferation of Ikea, it would be better to take cover in a doorway and not under a table cause I doubt the folks in Sweden are mass producing furniture that is meant to last forever and to withstand all sorts of natural disasters.

Anyway, I had my first brush with a hurrican last week during a business trip to St. Petersburg, FL. Landing late Monday afternoon I met an old friend Dana and had a fabulous little catch-up. I am truly blessed to have friends that come and go at different phases and who, when meeting feel like you were chatting about the weather yesterday. Of course, according to one of the security guards at work, everyone is a weather expert in Florida after Andrew last year. CNN and CNN Headline News played constantly and I kept my eye on the pattern in order to determine what to do. Apparently, I had to do nothing since she decided to save me the personal story and went straight to better things. I guess my trip to Oprah with a tale of woe was a bit premature. Sorry Oprah.

Work for the week was exta hectic. End of year stuff and of course the three "official" projects I was working on and the crisis project that had to be dealt with ASAP. Luckiy, Miss Kris was able to drive down from Daytona to keep me company on my last night. She arrived and we headed to dinner and then took a little drive along the coast. The larger than life Miniature Golf course lured us out of the vehicle and the thunder and lightening almost put us back in. It would be rude of me to mention the winner ... so I'll just say the loser paid for the alligator food and we headed down to the live "educational" exhibit to give the poor blue mouthed gators some kibble from a fishing pole. I didn't realize that the little guys were jumpers and while preparing the first nibble screamed like a little girl when the gator threw himself in the air. I watch movies, I know what they want. They saw big white boy and were going for the gold, forget the kibble!

From their it was time for a little Georgie's Alibi - a family establishment. Thursdays are long-island ice tea night and we had to partake. The place was a bit surreal. Lots of women ... or should I say womyn. There was also the typical array of youngsters and oldsters, cowboys, farm hands, and the I can't stop dancing for three hours. The highlight was when Miss Kris squeeked and ran to the other side of me. A womyn of significant stature asked me, "Is that your wife?" (use a husky voice). After a few dances, we called it night.

My flights were on time and for some reason, the one-stop (Denver) included a stop in Las Vegas. I don't know if it was because of Katrina but the flights were BUMPY. Bumpy to the extent that women were crying, bellies were gurgling and I got to land and take off three times. JOY!!!!! Happy to be home in the good old 60 degree heat of San Francisco.

SVA Looking for SAM – A Visit to Ca’Toga

Whether Carlo Marchiori is truly a Single Venetian Artist (SVA) looking for a Single Asian Male is pure speculation. One which I will continue to make, though let me state for the record that my speculations are entirely absent of even an ounce of malice. Perhaps it is my jaded perspective from living in San Francisco and a complete lack of understanding for all things artistic … but it seems suspicious when a grown man purchases an empty lot of acreage on the outskirts of Calistoga and turns it into a Venetian compound complete with the ruins of a Greek temple, grottos, anatomically correct rhinos and a suspicious emphasis on the male figure. Add to it a mural where the artist is represented as a Dodges (sp?) being visited by a contingency from Asia (sitting at his feet reaching for the house seal) and you begin to get the picture. Also, I have a friend who claims to have been “cruised” by Mr. Marchiori and invited to the house. Perhaps it was just for a personal tour … again pure speculation.

Anyway, the brochure states that visitors will find themselves in another world, a “world of art, soul, creativity, whimsy and limitless imagination (i.e. gayer than the uncle on Bewitched) and to that end, the house delivered.

Lest anyone think I’m being overly critical, the place is fabulous and I would sell any of my lovely upstairs neighbors for an invitation. Unlike the amazing California Geyser that somehow draws people in droves – isn’t that what tourists in cars should be called these days? – Ca’Toga is a visit to eccentricity that would seem out of place in any other town the size of Calistoga, California if it weren’t another architectural displacement of the wineries that look like villas in Tuscany, castles in Bavaria and French chateaus. A Venetian palace fits perfectly and from the road is a delight to behold … I like to refer to it as the Gay Hearst Castle.

So the question, how did we stumble on this place? Like San Francisco, I get very excited when I come across something new in a place I am very familiar. Having gone school in the valley (1987 – 89), worked at restaurants in Calistoga (1993), and visited on numerous occasions since moving back to the Bay Area in 1994, it took a gaggle of women to first recommend seeing the ceiling at the Ca’toga gallery in Calistoga to get the juices going.

Frank and I had spent a long, relaxing weekend in Calistoga at a B&B and the ladies were also guests. On their recommendation, we wandered in to the gallery and got a glimpse of the “whimsy” and met Tony. Now whether or not “Tony” and the artist are together or if their relationship is purely a platonic working relationship is up for speculation. My nose, upon entering the gallery smelled “Gay” and after my initial greeting with Tony screamed “UBER GAY.” Again, he could simply be a stylish artistic type, with the short-slicked back hair, dark-rimmed glasses, starched shirt and an Asian demeanor. Or he could be a big homo.

Regardless, the gallery is impressive. The barrel-vault ceiling shows the Ptolemaic Constellations in all their mythological grandeur and is the perfect setting for the variety of work that can be purchased. Carlo creates items from murals, to dishes, candlestick holders, and some great paintings that feature Putinella (the clown from Comedia Del arte) … and of course, Tony, who will answer questions with statements like, “The artist, Carlo …” This is also where I saw the book on the house and the fact that during the summer season, tours were given on the property on Saturdays.

This would be a good time to take a glimpse at his website: www.catoga.com

I have great respect for Marchiori’s work and if the had the skills, the time and the property there are many ideas I would steal in a second. I digress. Frank and I ordered tickets and planned a day that would include the tour, lunch and then a visit to Berringer’s Winery for Frank’s wine club shipment. I spoke with Tony and got the low-down on timeliness and the fact that the tickets would not be refunded, nor was there a second tour, etc. We allowed plenty of time to get out of San Francisco and up to Napa Valley in time. San Francisco was buried in fog and it wasn’t until we got to St. Helena that the sun decided to break through and shine the rest of the day. One has to love the fact that within a 90 minute drive there can be a 20+-degree difference in temperature.

We got our tickets and drove to the house. Apparently the neighbors are not his biggest fans or are not fans of visitors. Homemade signs state that visitors should “SLOW DOWN.” As we crawled forward in first gear until we arrived at the twin columned gate mounted with two clown-head figures. Following the signs where to park we passed a very anatomically correct Rhino. I’m not sure if he was guarding the property are looking to mount some unsuspecting vehicle while the occupants were on the tour. This was our first glimpse that belied the pictures of the place.

Now Calistoga gets very dry in the summer, so the parched lawn is understandable. The vine-covered paths were also a bit dry. We had about 15 minutes so we explored the outdoor grotto that was covered with shells and probably is very impressive at night with candle lights and such adding to the magic – in the sunlight … it looked more like a drag queen on her way home in the morning after a night on the town; some things are better seen in the moonlight.

The first thing we noted was that the house appeared to be a structure with a façade put in place. The building looked old but the tin siding viewed from the side and back belied the initial view. At 11:15 Carlo opened the door and his assistant, a Pilipino boy (I’m not saying anything that would upset Tony), took our tickets and we entered the foyer which had an impressive mural of a God spewing water, quite possibly a homage to the Calistoga Geyser.

This is where I have to admit to being thoroughly impressed. The two-story vaulted room had giant murals that intermixed Asian motifs, classic god paintings and many references to Venetian masks and balls. On view was the Pompeii room, the library and two bedrooms upstairs. What made the adventure even more entertaining was the fact that Carlo told little stories and then basically said, “Explore.” I loved the canary bedroom, which if you closed the door felt like you were inside a birdcage with a giant cat looking in on you. A giant leaf of lettuce covered the window and a sign indicated that guests who stayed in the room were provided with canary-yellow pajamas. Not that I’m speculating anything … but how many “straight” artists would require anyone to wear canary-yellow anything. The fact that Carlo lives onsite and really was opening his home was also impressive.

Following our exploration of the house he took on a tour of the house and gardens. He has recreated a Roman bath, a Greek temple, a river walk and of course the afore mentioned grotto. Is he a single artist looking for love? Or perhaps just a man who has the means to follow his passions. Either way, Ca’toga is a worthwhile adventure and one you should look into if you are ever in Calistoga on a Saturday with time on your hands.

Where in the World?

Mom and Dad are in Albania and I can only hope that they will have a safe return. No news is the only news we've had and God knows that there are Internet cafes they could visit if they wanted to send us a message. I'm too young to be an orphan!

So while they are trotting around the globe, Frank and I are in the middle of planning out the rest of 2005. On the horizon the following trips are in various stages of planning.

• Napa Valley - Day Trip including a tour of the Catoga mansion.
• Camping Trip - Guerneville, California
• Helsinki, Finland (including side trips to St. Petersburg, Russia, Tallinn, Estonia and possibly a jaunt to Stockholm, Sweden. )
• New York City, New York - Long weekend
• Puerta Vallarta, Mexico - Good John's birthday celebration.

That's it. Suprisingly there are not trips over actual holidays!

Getting Set for Russia

Can you list all of the countries you visited in the past 10 years? Do you know how to locate your supervisors of your previous two jobs - not including your current place of employment. If so, you can probably be confident that you could successfully complete a Visa application to Russia.

What drama. We are heading to Finland and one of the stops is a two+ day trip to St. Petersburg, Russia. We had to get a reservation and then a confirmation from the hotel, and then go to the embassy to grovel for a Visa. Joy.