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Published: September 13th 2010
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I've got a late flight from Kaliningrad to Minsk on Belavia, the Belarusian national airline. Check-out time at my hotel is noon; I've arranged to leave my suitcase, but I need to find something to do with my
self from noon until my ride at 18:00. It's raining again. Alexandr has urged me to tour the блиндаж (Nazi bunker), and I've gotten good instructions about how to find it, so I have the hotel call a taxi for me and I wait outside on the covered patio. Several kittens and I vie for the few dry spaces. There are cats all over Kaliningrad (and most subsequent cities). I don't know if they're true strays or just pets allowed outdoors, but there lots of them. This seems consistent with what I've noticed on every European trip: pets here aren't sterilized. Dogs in full flower are the norm, as in, I haven't seen any exceptions. So, too, then,
clowders of cats;
kindles of kittens!
The taxi drops me at Victory Square, and I have a nice stroll down
Ленинский проспект (that's right, Lenin Avenue) to the location of the bunker, hidden in a residential-looking courtyard behind the Гостиница «Калининград» (
Hotel Kaliningrad).
It's a small
museum, but with lots of detail. This is the place where the Nazis signed the surrender of Königsberg (now Kaliningrad) to the Soviet Red Army, so the Soviets-now-Russians are quite proud of it. There are photos, videos, artifacts, recreated scenes, and dioramas all graphically depicting the fight for the city. Highly satisfying museum experience.
Afterwards, I trek back (through more rain) to Victory Square and Europa-Center, determined to try the fancy Italian ice cream place I saw yesterday. I get a text message from Katherine that she's free and would I like to meet again before I leave? Heck yes. She joins me for coffee (she doesn't like ice cream; now I am suspicious) and then we stroll around the city, visiting other nearby sights that I've overlooked, before a final goodbye back at my hotel.
I'm off to Kaliningrad's Khrabrovo Airport! In contrast to the rutted streets of Kaliningrad city, the road to the airport is a brand-new, sparkling-clean, smooth expressway with street lights decorated with Kaliningrad's historic coat of arms. The airport is still rather grungy, being only partway through some kind of expansion/renovation project. Security screening of bags happens right at the entrance to the
"We will never surrender"
The Germans wrote this all over Königsberg, and the Soviets (now Russians) really, really love displaying pictures of it. (The Germans surrendered.) building, though non-passengers can enter and boarding passes are checked later. It takes me a little while to figure out where check-in desks will be, mostly just because my flight isn't checking in yet. I see some tables offering an interesting travel service: they'll thoroughly shrink-wrap your suitcase for 200 rubles. I notice that pretty much every single person in the waiting area has availed themselves of this service, which I take as a strong hint. I dig out rubles and have my bag done, too. It's awesome. They leave the wheels and the handle still completely usable, but the bag's nicely protected from I-don't-know-what. I check in.
So the last thing about cities lacking good touristic facilities: I had a ridiculous time finding any postcards. I finally find some here at the airport, but they're awful. I take what I can get.
At the passport control desk, I present my passport with exit visa affixed; my completed part-2 migration card; and a piece of paper the hotel gave me that I didn't know what it was but it's a good thing I kept it because the officer wants it (it's the hotel registration card showing where I
stayed). All is approved! Passport is stamped! I'm off to Minsk - I hope Belarus will let me in.
See all my pictures from Kaliningrad on Flickr:
Калининград 2010 Set
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Joseph
non-member comment
heh, Shrink wrap
the title of the email that travelblog sent about this post was "Cheryl M. Hammond, Shrink-wrapped". I immediately had to discover what that was about. I was mildly disappointed to find it was merely your bag wrapped, rather than some new sort of Spa treatment. I wonder if we could get away with that in the US? It'd keep the TSA from sneakily pawing through my underthings.