Last day in Russia: lots of drama left

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I truly needed some time off by the time the last day came around. As fun as it had been, a whole week with a group this size takes its toll after a while. I set out to first change some money for the sights that were yet to be taken in, and then to spend a few more hours at the Hermitage. The money changing was a disaster. The bank had all it’s outside signs in English, but the teller didn’t speak a word and the receipt for the transaction was 100% Russian. Using my Pocket PC, I managed to figure out that the bank was trying to charge me a ‘commission’ per bill changed, not per transaction. I attempted to explain the stupidity of such a system (such as why somebody changing 4 x $5 bills should pay 4x as much in commission as somebody changing 1. This only resulted in the teller shrugging in fake misunderstanding. When I tried to run the numbers again, counting what I had received, comparing it to the listed exchange rate, and deciphering the receipt, the teller started banging on the window telling me to move on. Not being one to get shoved around by the verified losers of the cold war, I gave her a good banging back. I guess they don’t get too many people who stand their ground. 10 seconds later, the security guard pulled back the sliding door that enclosed the telephone booth like ‘closet’ that sufficed as the official transaction space and tried to ‘investigate.’ All my money was still on the counter, being that I was trying to count it and make sense of it. The last thing I needed was another bank employee to handle my cash. I personally removed the ‘guard’ from the booth and slammed the door shut. This put them on enough notice that they left me alone while I verified that they had indeed ripped me off. Having grown acquainted with the style of banking they were operating, I cut my losses and walked out knowing that I had at least caught them a little off guard. All things considered, it was worth a little push and shove just to see the expression on the guards face.

Once I had a handful of rubbles to operate with, I set out to take in more of the great museum. My favorite part was the restored rooms of the czars. The lavishness of the palace, aside from its monstrous size, was amazing. The palace along the river was only the winter palace: a few miles outside of St. Petersburg, the summer palace awaits. There were a few postcards in the gift shop, and the summer palace was not shack either. They collection of art, for those that really appreciate art, was very good. For me, a painting is just about as impressive in a book as on the wall, and the art exhibitions didn’t take me longer than 20 minutes to go through. Monet and fellow impressionist painters do great work, but not really enough to captivate me while in Russia.

I hiked over to the Peter and Paul fortress across the river, thoroughly enjoying the site of a whole row of Russian sunbathers stretched out along the wall basking in summer swimwear while standing in the snow. By chance, should they get too hot, there is also the poor mans public outdoor sauna just a few steps away. Perhaps even colder than the water we experienced, this cold ‘tub’ is just a hole in the ice that has a few steps carved into it. Once the novelty of old wrinkled people standing nearly naked along the wall of a Russian fortress wore off, (this did not take long) I made my way to the inside. Being on my own for the first time, I had the pleasure of seeing the discrepancy between the prices Russian students pay and what the rest of the world pays. There always seems to be a price that is not listed in English, and that is the going rate (usually around 10% of what international students pay). Had I seen more of what some other countries do, I would not have found this to be as objectionable as I did. I simply refused to pay top ruble when I knew that other students were getting a much better deal. After spending a full day venturing around and exploring the wonders of the czars, I was ready to make it back to the hostel. Along the main drag into town, there seems to be a never ending supply of pirated DVDs. Some of them look really well done, and I was even able to pick up some combination discs that were double features. Since I watch 99% of my movies on computer, I didn’t care what region the discs were made for. If one is ever in the market for specific regions though, be sure to have a solid knowledge of what will work. Ask questions such as “what region is this movie for”, and not “will this work in North America.” I have yet to find a merchant who sells DVDs that ‘don’t work’ in North America.

On the approach to the hostel, I made the mistake of stopping in a magazine (store) for some more cheap vodka and cigs. Qued up to pay, I felt my backpack being ‘bumped’ just a little too much for the level of business there. A quick turn around reveled two men slightly larger than myself sifting through my pack. Not really realizing the nature of the situation, I went on the offensive and pressed them against the wall, one at a time, and checked their pockets. They didn’t put up any fuss, which is most likely attributed to my acting irrationally and catching them by surprise. I also asked (in English) the store staff to call the police. They didn’t understand a word, but the two blokes I was engaged with sure did, and they then went on to mention to what must have been everybody else in the store that they didn’t think that was necessary. At this point, anybody who didn’t speak English was truly confused. I used this moment, after verifying that they had not pocketed anything of value, to make my departure and head back to the hostel. I returned for my goods with a buddy later. After packing up the bags and heading for the night train, most of the group concluded that as amazing as the city was, we were certainly appreciative of both our guides and fellow students that kept an eye out for us. I doubt I will be in any hurry to make my way back to this country alone. One buddy would suffice, but solo would certainly be pushing my comfort zone.

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Photos

Parking lot in a wealthy part of town
There was no shortage of exotic cars throughout St. Petersburg