Days 105-107 St Petersburg, Russia

We came to St P with some pretty high expectations. After all, the city has rich bloodlines as Russia's Venice and Russia's most 'European' city.
Helen and Lee struggled to find the magic of the city. Shane found more in it, though we all agreed that it was austere. Lacking street trees, parks, sculptures, variety. It didn't help seeing it in grey weather.








Finding our hostel was frustrating, as usual. Travelling with PDF'd guidebooks has presented challenges - pulling out an iPad on the street and trying to read a map with features displayed in turquoise isn't our idea of easy navigation - just give us a bloody paper map! On top of this, there's the issue of hostel owners writing stupid directions. "Come out of the metro and turn right." And pray tell, which of the eight exits should we take, before we turn right? Piffle. At least Apple Hostel was worth the effort - well run, well located, clean, and welcoming. Lee made good friends with the lovely host Irenna - in no time at all they were sharing potato and cabbage recipes.
On day one it St P, on the back of a passing comment from another hosteller...firmed up by Shane's accidental deletion of our existing ferry ticket to Helsinki...Helen and Shane ventured off to book train tickets to a previously unconsidered destination - Tallinn, Estonia.
On day two we followed a less than impressive walking-tour route of the city. We managed to see the building in which Tchaikovsky died (indeed we took morning tea there), Pushkin's last home after he was killed in a duel (the building is supposedly protected by zealous babushkas, not in evidence), the house of authors Turgenev and Gogol, the Winter Palace (which finally managed to elicit some oohs and aahs from our party) and associated Hermitage buildings, canals, Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood (more oohs), Kazan Cathedral and the Singer Building (fab).
Lee was impressed with having walked around 6-7 kms and we were once again impressed by her efforts.
















Day three we visited the Hermitage National Museum comprising an eclectic mix of treasures from various countries and epochs. In a contained space, free from the perils of ice and snow (and road crossings, O'Brien family members only may nod understandingly at this reference) Lee delighted in striding out solo through the maze of exhibits. Freedom!








In the hall of Russian military commander portraits we played 'Spot the most ridiculous moustache / hairdo combo'.




Lee loved the Winter Palace (especially the malachite room) while the (very difficult to find) Siberian Antiquities won first prize from the Jeffs-O'Briens...
Chieftain from Siberia.




Horse headwear from Siberia (this one buried with owner).




This fur cloak and felt hat for a Siberian noblewoman was freaky. The arms of the cloak were like strange appendages, and wearing the hat would have required good balance - and hopefully a light wind.


The Siberian section of the museum just blew us all away. We saw mummified bodies, mummified horses, horse wear, log coffins, clothing, headwear...unlike we had seen before.
Don't you love it when you stumble across things like that?




In a week or so, Lee will be leaving the party as the Jeffs-O'Briens travel to Oslo to spend ten days with extra-special friends and Norwegian residents Cameron and Jan. We will all miss her greatly. Shane will not miss having to carry her luggage.




Shane, Helen, Rosie, Tom and Lee

Location:Rataskaevu,Tallinn,Estonia

Hilarious journey from Moscow to St Petersburg

We arrived in St Petersburg yesterday after an exhausting but truly hilarious night after missing our 10pm train by 2 minutes! Trains to St P usually leave from Leningradsky station and we had failed to notice the three tiny cyrillic letters KYP on our tickets indicating that ours would leave from elsewhere. Of course.
Lee did a stirling job of trying to run, moving at a truly heroic pace across squares and platforms, up and down steps and escalators into and out of metro stations, Shane performing his usual feat of pulling and carrying her Calvin Klein trolley bag (and Tom's) as well as lugging an over-stuffed backpack. (Note: Lee pulled out a glass jar of gherkins and bottle of wine from said bag last night...) It was excruciating watching the minutes tick by on the metro - we alighted with just four minutes to spare - would it be enough to 'run' through to the main train station?




But it was all in vain. We arrived at KYR station just in time to watch the train roll off the departures board.
Of course, the weather chucked everything it could at us!
Helen and Lee (Helen providing an arm for Lee as they crossed snow and ice) laughed until they cried.




11pm saw Helen struggling through our hopelessly inadequate Russian phrase book negotiating with surly bloody-minded Russian railway staff trying to get a refund and book tickets for the next (1am) train. Mission accomplished after just 45 minutes, we then had to cross Moscow once again back to the station we had originally gone to, from where the 1am train would depart. Of course.




The next challenge was to keep the children (tired from three days pavement bashing in Moscow) from falling in a complete heap as we waited. Even three day old doughnuts and cheese sandwiches failed to help. Lee gave hers to the resident Bag Lady!
When we finally boarded our train (heaven!) we were confronted by Russian Chief Bitch Travelling Companion who totally picked the wrong time to fluff her feathers in a small 4 berth cupe. She got quite a hiding from Lee and Helen!
Finally sleeping at 2:30am to arrive at 7am, only to search for a hostel in bucketing wet snow with only written instructions that were absolutely crap, poor Lee barely able to put one foot in front of the other after 'running' through Moscow last night and negotiating her first ever top bunk on the train. Shane had to physically manoeuvre her up into it, she didn't get a wink of sleep for fear of falling off, and then she 'jumped' down into his arms in the morning. "I feel like my bones have been through a washing machine!" she declared on safe descent.
We FINALLY found the hostel to be told that they had booked us into their overflow building which was ONLY five minutes round the corner (boy, did they nearly get a serve!) which of course isn't five minutes with an exhausted babushka negotiating steps and iced walkways and Shane lugging The Bags.
Breakfast was a celebration of not screaming at each other, indeed laughing in the face of traveling adversity.
Shane, Helen, Rosie, Tom, Babushka

Location:улица Итальянская,St. Petersburg,Russia

Days 102-104 Moscow

The five hour time difference we'd accrued from Irkutsk meant that we suffered even more from the 4am arrival. We made our way to the hostel, dropped our bags and went to MacDonalds for a big long meaty breakfast - read: the train food left us wanting.
Caffeinated, seeing glamorous Muscovites making their way to work, European influence about us, at the end of a 6-7 day train journey through two massive countries - everything suddenly felt special. We had crossed Siberia! Here we were! In Moscow, Russia, one of the more fabled cities of the world!

The city was blanketed in fresh snow, the sun was shining...








And we were walking distance from wonderous edifices of this intriguing country - KGB Headquarters, Bolshoi Theatre, the Kremlin, St Basil's, Gorky Park... And walk we did. All day. We think 7-8km; Lee thinks 100!
It felt like walking through a 007 movie. People with long coats and fur hats and pens that shot poison darts. All looking very serious.
























We were all pleasantly surprised by the city - we were expecting an austere, sombre, Stalinist cityscape. It's not a romantic European city, but it's got a certain beauty, a definite vibe and it's full of surprises. More billionaires than any other city and the evidence all around us. Stretch Porsche limos, fur coats, outrageous shoe shops. Wonderful bakeries. Stunning parks. Long stretches - sometimes small pockets - of intriguing architecture.
We wandered around for many hours, exhausted but very satisfied with Moscow by the end of day.

The chuckle of the day came via Lee, of course. We wanted to settle in amongst the beautiful people in glamorous Gum department store. So, tea and cakes at a swish cafe. Just how swish? Lee's pot of tea - a mere $17! And it was tea bag tea!




Another thing that's expensive in Moscow is accommodation - the most expensive in the world - so we opted to stay at a hostel. Nomad Hostel. We were looking forward to it, incredibly well located, highly rated, only recently opened. We got the chance to rate it on our departure, and we're hopeful our account would send a few potential guests running. The beds and bedding were clean, but everything else was filthy. Really, seriously filthy. And some obnoxious undesirables in situ. Lee endured, we soldiered through.




Day two in town saw us meandering through some of the major sites again - and revisiting our preferred peeroshki shop and Lee chose to shout us a great start to the day at a great French style bakery. It certainly hit the spot for us all.




Then off for a visit to the Kremlin. When we got there the queues were too long, so we ventured off to the nearby Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, where we happened upon an Easter service led by the Patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church and televised an hour later. We were all moved by the service, left speechless by the cathedral. This cathedral was torn down by Stalin and replaced with a public swimming pool; rebuilt in 1992 after perestroika to its original specifications. Breathtaking.
We drew comparisons to the infinitely less grand - but equally intense - Buddhist service we witnessed in the dilapidated thousand year old monastery in the Nepali village of Thuman. We felt it was good for the kids to see that the grandiosity of the Russian Orthodox cathedral doesn't necessarily result in a more heartfelt event.








Day three we did manage to visit the Kremlin. We were only able to visit the churches which was disappointing - tickets to the armoury were sold out and the palace closed.












Shane, Helen, Rosie, Tom and Baboushka Marnie

Location:улица Итальянская,St. Petersburg,Russia

Days 99-101 Trans Siberia

It killed us. Not 85 hours on the train. Not the overheated compartments, nor the associated body odour. Not the windows that don't open, nor the cigarette smoke that wafts in each time the doors at carriage end are opened. Not even the Russian music issuing from the crackly sound system. All this we could bear. But the endless terrain covered in powdery snow with virgin trails going every which way through silver birch forest and no-one skiing. A cross country skiers paradise, and we couldn't play. Sigh!








As we write this on day three, it's snowing. Again. Surprisingly, there's more snow as we head west, away from Siberia. We've travelled through quite a blizzard.




Generally the daytime temperatures have sat around -10C. Conversely - almost unbearably - the temperature in the train remains well above mid 20C. Most passengers are obliged to wear shorts to survive the oppressive heat of the train (together with standard issue slippers for those of us in 1st or 2nd class - 3rd class must BYO thongs). This makes for hilarious stops at the stations where many people take the opportunity to get some fresh air (or smoke, clearly it's illegal to be Russian and not smoke) - the platform, plastered with ice and snow, is busy with bodies sporting shorts, singlets and slippers.




Most passengers are men, all bar none unattractive and - with few exceptions - fat and pasty. The older men display an unusually high rate of unsightly growths on their face. Gifts from Chernobyl, perhaps?




Lee even had the pleasure of sharing her compartment with one of these fine thoroughbreds (complete with growth on face), Oleg. "All my dreams have come true!" she declared excitedly when he on-boarded.




Each carriage has two attendants who take shifts to vacuum the carriage, clean the toilets and generally keep things 'train-shape'. At stations, they de-ice the outlets from various downpipes from their nominated carriage and check tickets of on-boarding passengers. Luckily, our attendants have been lovely, unlike the man on the Chinese train or the Hitler-esse on the train from UB.




When Russians get cranky, they really let fly. They know we don't understand a word they say, but you don't need to understand words when body language and tone are used to such effect! Our waitress set a fine example.




Lee has got into trouble a few times: putting paper towel down the loo, pouring tea into the samovar's drain, bringing her own wine into the restaurant carriage. In previous trains, we've got into strife for opening curtains in the hallway, for so much as walking toward the toilet when it's locked at a station.
Out the window we see silver birch trees. Villages of tired, wooden, often miniscule houses, sometimes organised into regular lots, more often higgledy-piggledy, with little evidence of habitation. Not a few of these houses have dropped on their footings and sit at an alarming angle to the ground.




We have seen a fox, a lone dog, a stoat-like creature. Old Ladas. And a curious cleared track running the length of the railway with, only occasionally, a small green truck parked - we can only guess this track's purpose.




Before we left, in the absence of any meaningful references in guide books, we believed it would be supremely difficult to travel about Russia in winter. Surely roads would be closed, public transport limited to the main Trans Siberian line. We have found the reverse is true: most roads are cleared (although locals drive directly up frozen rivers - "much better than the twists and turns and ups and downs of roads"); later in the year when the snows melt there are floods everywhere and many roads are closed; then comes the mosquito season accompanied by an abundance of ticks. Not for a moment have we regretted our choice to cross this region in winter. Properly kitted out in down jackets and weather proof pants we have not had a moment where we have been cold beyond comfort (horse riding in Mongolia being the exception).
A trip to the dining car was both enjoyable and frustrating. The menu might as well have been written in mandarin - an English version turned up on day two but never re-appeared. The busty lacey hostess spoke rapidly in Russian, to be understood by us through hand signals only. And what meals! Unforgettable! Absolutely bloody awful! Here is fish with mashed potatoes and vegetables - can you find the fish?!




On the last night a Russian guy named Edouard tried helping us with the menu. He was larger than life and clearly feeling jaunty. After a chat in broken English he reappeared with juice and chocolates for the kids. A little later again he re-appeared with $90 French champagne and more (fine) chocolates for us adults. And then a tumbler full of vodka - for himself. He liked cuddling Lee and was determined to keep her up late into the night...! He brought a lot of joy to us at the end of a very 'Russian' train trip.








All up, buying tickets directly from train stations at local rates, the train trip from China to Moscow - a little under 10,000km, has cost just $490 per adult (approx 60% for children) for four berth cabins, including four meals.
And there was no discount for the meals!
Shane, Helen, Rosie, Tom, Lee

Location:улица Мясницкая,Moscow,Russia

Day 97 Ice cycling, Listvyanka

Our morning started with great family debate about whether we should stay on in our home-away-from-home hostel or shift to an average hotel by the lake. To stay meant continuing to have the best sleeps of our trip so far in a wonderfully quiet and calm environment, a snowy garden for the kids to play in, and being able to cook what we liked. To go meant Lee not having to take a taxi to go everywhere and maximum exposure to the lake for all of us, including the opportunity to see the sun set and rise.

Shane and Helen took a couple of hours out to ice cycle. Regular mountain bikes with Schwalbe ice tyres - metal studs on the knobs.




The slightest rise in the ice parallel to our line of travel would send the back wheel out in a skiddy - quite good fun - although we never plucked up courage to go too fast! No helmets of course...The wind had an impact on our line of travel well beyond its strength - it felt like we were over compensating continually to keep on track.
It was really cool to get further from shore - the feeling of isolation and exposure was amplified. Knowing that we were sitting over a kilometre of water was in our mind too.




Helen kept looking down through the ice in the hope of seeing a fish, but just the deep blue and black of the lake looked back. There were cracks everywhere, generally hairline, but occasionally up to 40cm wide - and running as far as the eye could see. Deep, abrupt cracking noises accompanied these.




On day one here we saw some people cycle touring on the ice - you'd want to like your company, there's nothing else to amuse you. One big sameness.
Being a Sunday, and with the morning being windless and brilliantly sunny, there was quite a bit of activity on the lake. There were stalls selling coffee, kebabs, smoked fish and there was rides on quads, snowmobiles and hovercraft. It appears that the locals treat the lake just like we would a park.
We committed ourselves to shifting to the hotel, which worked as we hoped. We spent more time on the lake, Lee got to go for a stroll in the frigid air, we got to explore a little more of Listvyanka. The kids committed some of their pocket money to a live show of Nerpa Seals - found only in Lake Baikal - which they just raved about. And another play on the lake.




We got to watch the day come to a close from the first floor lounge of our hotel. Glass of wine in hand.

Shane, Helen, Rosie and Tom