I'm not even supposed to be here today!

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A new day! Did I mention how great the breakfasts are in my hotel? Hot dishes! Блины (blini)! Potato pancakes with sour cream! Nom nom nom.

In the morning, I'm met by Elena, my paid tour guide. We're heading to Балтийск (Baltiysk), a coast city which is almost totally uninteresting except for the compelling fact that even today, nobody in Kaliningrad really understands whether foreigners are allowed to visit it or not. Back in May, the aforementioned Staus and the aforementioned Aleksandr had a heated argument about this, in Russian, on a CouchSurfing forum, which I followed along by running their posts through Google Translate: Aleksandr argues that he has taken foreign tourists there many times, and the official rule doesn't matter because (paraphrasing), "the old grandmother who checks passes at the entrance to the city isn't there any more!" while Staus counter-argues that it isn't worth the risk to drive foreigners all that way if they're going to be turned back. Aleksandr is frustrated (paraphrasing, but not very much): "Clearly, there is no more grandmother!!" My own risk tolerance is closer to Staus', which is why I've elected to pay a more official-seeming tour guide instead of letting Aleksandr take me there himself, which Aleksandr is indignant about.

In addition, I Googled it myself (using Google Translate to assemble a search in Russian and then translate back the result) and found articles online and my tour guide assured me that Baltiysk really had been opened and that special government permission was no longer needed. Wednesday night, over coffee with Olga B., she mentioned casually that since the time I booked the tour, it was possible the rule had been changed back, and that perhaps special permission was again required, though no one is certain. Rather than acquire a permit, which I'm not sure would even have been possible, Olga B. recommended that I refrain from speaking English too loudly during my visit. No, I'm not making this up.

I begin to understand a little better how things are done here in Russia.

Elena and I have a lovely drive to Baltiysk. We approach a checkpoint staffed by several official-looking guards, who aren't stopping anyone, and we drive right on through. From the passenger seat of the moving car, I try to act casual and look as Russian as possible. Seems to work. I do not see a grandmother.

Baltiysk, as expected, is not super-interesting. There's some attractive German (?) architecture at the naval college in the center of town, and some typical Soviet-style monuments to the military in a couple of parks. The very interesting five-pointed-star-shaped fort in the center of town, built when the town belonged to Sweden, unfortunately at ground level just looks like a brick fort - it's much cooler on Google Maps' satellite view, which I had already explored thoroughly from home.

As we stroll through the center of town, Elena speaks English at me a lot, quite audibly. I try to look confused by this if any other Russians come close...

We drive somewhat outside of the town to visit the beach and a nearby WWII cemetery. Elena explains that it's in superb condition and is tended by a charitable organization of (I assume very well-funded) German veterans, though both Germans and Russians are memorialized in it and in exchange for permission to work at the site, the Germans have agreed to take equal care of both nations' veterans' graves.

Finally I get my first view of the actual Baltic Sea (from land)! It's super stormy and makes for great photos. There's a gigantic statue of Императрица Елизавета Петровна (Empress Elizabeth of Russia) on the point of the Baltic Strand, i.e., the middle of nowhere, for really no apparent reason. She's triumphantly welcoming container ships on their way to the port in Kaliningrad. And seagulls. So Russian! It's a vigorous, active equestrian statue, with the Empress confidently sidesaddle and her arm outstretched victoriously. I absolutely love that this monument to a woman uses so many recognizable elements of traditional military statues commemorating virile male warriors. She looks a lot more badass than Peter the Great back in town (who greets the ferry that runs across the channel to the barely-inhabited Baltic Spit).

Off and on, it's raining. Annoying.

We have lunch at a place in Baltiysk called Панда (Panda)! (Sorry, Laura, it doesn't serve Chinese food.) I have a delicious Siberian-style pork cutlet topped with broiled tomato, melted cheese and mayonnaise. I don't really need those arteries, right?

I don't realize at the time, but figure out later, that my cute dithering with the Russian phrasebook and the Russian-only menu (declining Elena's sensible offer to help translate), though educational, causes meals to take longer, and this has cost me time in Svetlogorsk before we've even arrived.

I'm dismayed to find that Светлогорск (Svetlogorsk) is located on a bluff, and I suspect this is going to mean stairs to get to the beach. I'm right. The stairs down are perfectly pleasant, and the views are spectacular. Unfortunately, as we're standing on the beachside promenade and Elena's remarking that the sea here is rougher and waves higher than she has ever seen in her entire life, the reason for the stormy seas arrives: a storm. With high winds and a torrential downpour. The cute beach chairs on the promenade offer no defense whatsoever against sideways driving rain, and Elena's forgotten her umbrella so I share my flimsy one, and I'm seriously annoyed that I didn't bring my rain jacket which would actually have helped a bit although I would have been soaked from the butt down either way.

Because we're running out of time (both Elena and I have places to be back in Kaliningrad), we have to cut the tour short just before we get to the row of shops and hotels on the promenade. This is a serious bummer for me. Even more of a bummer, now it's time to climb back up the bluff to the car. We take a different route and it isn't even stairs - it's an illustratively-named sloping path called the "serpentine way", made of lovely cobbles which are slippery when wet. This sucks.

Wow, I'm whiny. Did I mention I am having the most awesome time and I love stuff like this?!

I survive the climb. And the rain lets up. We dry off adequately on the drive back to Kaliningrad (during which I fall asleep, which I worry was quite rude to Elena; wait, I'm trying to be positive here; she doesn't seem offended and perhaps she was grateful for some peace and quiet). Better? 😊

In Kaliningrad, Elena drops me off at the Europa-Center, one of the several new malls on Victory Square, and I hurry upstairs to meet CouchSurfer Katherine at a place called "Pizza Club". Katherine, it turns out, is a slightly Americanized Russian - she lived some years in Boston - hence the name. We're joined by a former student of hers, Katya (yes, they confirm, they are both actually named Екатерина). Katya has lived in the US on something called the "work and travel" program. I had no idea such a thing existed, but it's a big deal throughout eastern Europe: Emilia, Olga B., Elena and now Katya are all veterans of it, and I'll meet several more along my travels. She's also a seasoned CouchSurfer and knows the local CSer community well. I tell her my drinking-beer-in-the-park story, and it becomes even funnier when she exclaims, "Oh, he always does that with visitors! They're expecting maybe a nice meal, but they get beer in the park with his friends who don't even speak English!" ROFL.

After our pre-meeting, we head down to the square to meet other CouchSurfers for a local meetup: Aleksandr is back, with a friend Marina from Moscow; and Vijayeta from New Zealand, who's in town with her Kaliningrader boyfriend Sasha (i.e., another Aleksandr). We wait for a few no-shows, then head to a nearby cafe to hang out for a few hours. I even get to bum a ride back to my hotel with Aleksandr (#1). (For those of you wondering, I sneakily try to get his attention by saying "hey, Sasha" and it totally works. Because, like, that's his name.) He asks to borrow my Lonely Planet Russian Phrasebook and regales the other Russians with its cheeky James-Bond-isms.

It's a fun evening, and I continue to marvel at my good fortune to meet so many great folks like this in Kaliningrad. Locals are great in any city, but in a place with so little tourism infrastructure, they're essential!

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Photos

Pillau Fortress
Viewed from Google Maps/Google Earth, this fortress is five-pointed-star shaped!

Baltiysk Lighthouse
An icon of the town.

Empress Elizabeth
Maybe Kaliningradians would disagree with my description of this glorious monument's site as "the middle of nowhere". I'm just saying.

Me, windblown
I made it to the Baltic Sea!

Making a run for the border
The Baltiysk checkpoint, which exists to keep foreigners like me out of the city. Maybe. I prudently waited to snap this photo until the ride OUT of town.

What goes down must come up
That's a gorgeous sundial, but I'm not looking forward to what it's going to cost to go see it.

Venus, deliver me
If only she were the goddess of levitation. The steep path back up the bluff begins here.

CouchSurfing meetup!
[1] Aleksandr's Elvis shirt rules; [2] Victory Square and Cathedral in background, sort of; [3] Sasha-2 is missing, as he's taking the photo - even native Russian speakers couldn't convince any passers-by to take it for us.