The Curse of the Dead Communist Leaders is Over

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The last few entries have been a little bit rocky, but we're bouncing back. We went to three countries with mummified communist leaders, and we never got to smell the formaldahyde in any of them because of our various small "crises" and their various arbirtrary hours. But we're shaking it off. The bank cards work, Justin is feeling better, we have a new camera, and Justin fixed Chris' ailing iPod.

Since he was never really able to shake his cold in St. Petersburg, Justin got very familiar with St. Petersburg's Puppet Hostel. They even gave us free tickets to the downstairs Puppet Theatre, but we were the only members of the audience over the age of 8 and unable to speak Russian. We're sure that we would have found the giant Hippopotamus hilarious if only we understood what he was saying. The kids really liked the number with the croaking frogs.

Chris spent her time wandering Nevsky Prospekt and several museums, including the Hermitage and the St. Petersburg's Russian Museum. She also developed a fondness for Russian fast food blinis, pelmeni dumplings, and shvarma sandwiches - a big difference from her visit in 1993 when food shortages and quality were still a big problem.

When the weather did begin to warm up a bit, Justin ventured out with Chris to the Dostoevsky Museum and wandered through the cemetary of artistic masters where Dostoevsky and Tchaikovsky are buried among other artists, writers, and composers. However, even in the spring "warmth", we could disregard the bridges and walk across the frozen river nodding to the ice fishermen along the way. On our final night in Russia, we spent the big money at the Hotel Grand Europe for some black caviar and vodka - a must-do in Russia. It was well worth it.

Because Scandinavia was going to be very cold and expensive, we changed our original plans and instead took the train from St. Petersburg to Riga, Latvia. We knew this was the right decision, when on the overnight train, two Lativian sailors, Vasil and Andrey, welcomed us to their country with lots of vodka, beer, and food. In the course of the evening, we understood less and less of Vasil's English, except his friendly and insistent "My friend, no problem, drink. My friend, no problem, eat." Evidently, Russian vodka is the cure for the common cold, for Justin was much better when we got off the train.

Since Australia, we haven't been booking hostels ahead of time. This wasn't really an option in most Asian countries and was never really an issue in Russia (afterall, who visits Russia in March?). In an effort to be more organized and better planned, Chris booked a hostel ahead for Riga from St. Petersburg. The hostel sounded nice - in the heart of Riga's Old Town and across the street from historic St. John's church. Only when we checked in, we got cards that offered a free drink and our choice of ladies at the bar. (And oddly, this is not the first time that we have accidently stayed at a brothel - the other time was in Cleveland, Ohio). We now understand why the guidebook said that Riga is a popular destination for European "stag" or bachelor parties. They are subtle, but throughout the charming cobblestone streets and rustic churches, the strip clubs and erotic massage salons make Riga a much more interesting place. Quite a change from the puppet hostel...Justin has been laughing for 24 hours straight.

From here, we plan to celebrate Justin's 30th birthday this weekend in Vilnius, Lithuania.

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