St. Petersburg Day One and One-half

The second time in a new city is a breeze, you feel like you've been there all your life. The first time can be a bitch.

The snafu started the night before. The hotel I had reserved on the internet had not sent me a confirmation, and I couldn't remember the name. I found it again, then proceeded to call them. They said they had no rooms. “Can you recommend one similar in the same area?” Yes, perhaps, can you call back in ten minutes?” I call back, and they have a room for 3,000 rubles-at their hotel. I'll take it. “Check in time is 3:00 pm.” I'll be there.

Well, I wasn't going to pay the exorbitant taxi fares from the airport, so I did some research the night before and found I could take a bus from the airport to the nearest subway station, then take the subway downtown. I ignored the “taxi mister?” calls at the airport and shot straight for the bus line. Nineteen rubles (80 cents) gets you to the metro station. I got off there with bags in tow, then proceeded to look for the subway line I needed to get on. The station was very mysterious and I didn't see the cashier where I could buy tickets. Well, so that was short-lived. I sucked it up and hailed a taxi. 800 rubles ($25) to get me to my hotel, firm price, wouldn't negotiate. It was still a haul through traffic, and near the end his car overheated and stalled a couple of times. He let me off at the corner.

My next surprise. The hotel no longer existed at the address that was given on the internet. Oh, bother! I walked up and down the street, bags in tow, then stopped in at “Friend's Bar”, the supposed address for the hotel. The bartender was very helpful, pulled out a city map, and told me how to get to the hotel. Bags in tow, I headed back towards Nevsky Prospect to find my hotel. Turns out he led me to the Novotel. My hotel was Nouvelle Europe. I walked around a while and stumbled across a travel agent. They never heard of the Nouvelle Europe, but did I have their phone number? No, I said. Back out the door, I realized I did have their phone number on my cell phone. I call them. Their new address is 19 Minchurinskaya. Where the devil is that? I see a taxi waiting in the driveway. He looks it up on his map. It doesn't look like a great area. “How much to go there?” I ask. “700 rubles.” Not worth the effort, this hotel did not confirm my reservation, knows nothing about me, sounds second-rate. Lets go see what the Novotel wants for a night. I don't want to keep dragging these bags all over town.

The Novotel receptionist speaks english. Good sign, but also expensive sign. 9,000 rubles for a night. Dear god, I think, that's like $270! “Ochen Doraga, I'll go see what else I can find," I tell the receptionist. “Just a moment, let me check with the manager.” The price suddenly dropped to 7,000. Still expensive, but I'll take it for one night. I had some backups listed, so I'll go check around and move tomorrow.

After leaving my bags in the room, I go walking. I find a little hole-in-the wall place and decide to check. The proprietor is a lady who doesn't speak English or German. She's all booked up. “Harasho, I'll keep looking." She bids me farewell with a smile and an “Auf Weidersehen.” Another hour of walking, and I find one of my backups. A place called Cronwell Inn. They have rooms for 3,000 rubles, and it looks like a nice place. I reserve for the next 3 nights.

St. Petersburg folks pride themselves on being friendly, and the reputation is well-deserved. The taxi driver proudly pointed out some of the sights on the way in, people smile and say good morning. Reminds me of a story I read some years back in Moscow:

A man from St. Petersburg was visiting Moscow and riding on the subway, An old lady gets on, and he stands to give her his seat. After a while, she says to him “You must be from St. Petersburg,” she says, “People from Moscow never give up their seats here.”

“You must be from Moscow,” the man replies. “People from Moscow never say thank you.”

The Novotel really is a rip-off. How can they get away with these exorbitant rates? Business folks that don't want to hassle, I guess. For the 7,000 rubles, I don't even get the free breakfast, the remote doesn't work on the TV. The bed is comfortable, though, and I get a good night's sleep.

Day Two

After a good night's sleep, I'm out at seven. The streets are empty. The sun is up. I woke a few times during the night, and it never really got dark. The have little trucks that wash down the sidewalks, and big trucks for the streets. I sidestep a few on my way down to the river, the historical area. I walk through the Peter and Paul Fortress, past the military museum, see the Armitage, then on to the Russian National Museum. Three hours of non-stop walking, I'm hungry for breakfast. Lots of coffee shops, but I don't feel like a pastry. Something more substantial. An egg McMuffin, perhaps. A few hot dog stands, no thanks. McDonalds is consistent. They stopped serving breakfast, so a McChicken will do the trick. Back to the hotel, download my pictures, checkout time. Its 12:00, can't check into the Cronwell until 2:00. I park at an outdoor Sushi Bar, order a Bochkarev beer and some Grinkie, and sit down to finish this blog. Absolutely pleasant sitting here on the street watching the world go by, sipping beer and writing. Almost heaven.....

The Cronwell is a British establishment. The name and high tea from 5:00-6:00 tips me off. Novotel is French. Give the British a few kudos. Room is smaller, but very clean, 5^th floor, with a skylight. Woohoo. Now I'm set for three days. Ready to explore the museums. Here I go....