Operation Baltica

End of Phase I: Russia

Day 7: Brooding Authors and Big Macs

We fought through aching heads and muscles the next morning to get out of the hostel on our last day in St. Pete. Story had a 10pm train to Moscow and we still had things on the list. We started with a trip to the bazaar and souvenir stands for some presents and keepsakes. I got a bag to put some of my stuff in for Story to check through to Raleigh. My load became much lighter and he was able to buy more gifts to bring home. He would then mail the bag to me once he gets home.

A second stop at the ILI café sounded like a good idea. Beer, borsht and goluptsi (stuffed cabbage rolls) were just the thing we needed to warm us up and settle our heads and stomachs from our adventures on the Neva the night before. We went then to the hostel to pack our things before hitting the town one last time. Up to the Neva, Winter Palace and Rock-Out Angel, over to the vacant Summer Gardens and the park with the eternal flame for the 1917 revolutionaries, and finally down to the Christ on Spilled Blood Cathedral. With its multi-colored and multi-textured domes and brightly tiled mosaics, this symbol of St. Pete is one of the prettiest buildings we’ve seen in Russia. We decided to skip the $10 admission fee and settle for a lap around the outside. We got some great pictures, including a guy in a 17^th century costume talking on a cell phone.

Our last stop on the agenda was Dostoevsky’s house, now a museum in the area of the city called Literary Petersburg. Although the outside of the house itself was being renovated and therefore wrapped in plastic, the interior was interesting enough. The museum included some of his notes, original pressings of his books, and a brief history of St. Pete itself. We found a statue of Dostoevsky brooding outside on a pedestal and Story was pleased to take a picture beside his favorite author.

One last walk to the hostel and we were off to the train station. We had agreed to meet Marina and her friends at a restaurant nearby, but in our crazy schedule of running around town, I had forgotten to write down the address. We assumed it was within a block of the station, and so decided to go there and just ask around. In the next half hour we walked four or five blocks in two different directions before realizing that the restaurant was just too far away for us to get there and back to the train before it took off. Unfortunately we had to stand the girls up without being able to call and explain. Fortunately, we found a McDonald’s where Story and I had Big Macs for dinner. It was so good. I’m gonna get so fat when I go home. I saw Story off at the station, bidding farewell to a great friend that would come to a strange country for a November vacation with an old pal. It really was an epic, unforgettable week.

I headed back to the hostel to try to catch up on journaling and emailing, but I just passed out. I was tired.