24/7/17 – Arrival in Helsinki
And so begins another epic tale of adventure around the globe starring Yours Truly! This time we head north towards Finland, Russia, Belarus and Poland – warm, exotic locations as we all know. What delights await us on this new tale? Mystery maybe – “where the hell are we?”. Perhaps magic – possibly dependent on a large amount of vodka. Maybe even romance – also likely largely dependent on vodka. But of course, and most importantly, a new world adventure.
I’ll admit to a rocky start, leaving work later than I probably should have. Especially given the fuel stop and the sheer distance involved in making it to Terminal 3! I made it to check-in with minutes to spare, and promptly proceeded to pass security. No travel with British Airways would be quite right without a stop at the lounge for a quick Virgin Mary before getting on the fight. The trip over to Helsinki was uneventful, with the only noteworthy point being the joys of the food options available on BA. Honestly there isn’t anything posh about a refrigerated and soggy “posh club sandwich”, except its price really.
Having arrived late in Helsinki, it occurred to me that I wouldn’t actually be getting to the hotel before around 1:00. Thankfully, the reception confirmed that it ran 24 ours and even that they had my reservation down – that’s always a nice start! The first order of business completed – getting some Euros and my bag – it was time to get adventurous. I decided against taking a taxi to the hotel because really where’s the fun in that? Instead I chose to go the more traditional path of a good old night bus. Granted, stopping by an information desk would have helped, but I figured that since I had a piece of paper telling me which bus to take, that would be enough.
After careful deliberation, I opted for a ticket to Helsinki city centre. To be honest, I have no idea whether that choice was correct, but the bus driver glanced at it and seemed satisfied enough, so I went on my way. I knew the journey would take roughly 45 minutes, but what I hadn’t anticipated was just how messed up a language Finnish really is! There was a board in the bus showing words with so many vowels that frankly, it’s a bit of an overkill. I assumed these were the names of the upcoming stops, but for all I knew it could have said “no eating on the bus” or anything else. Better safe than sorry, I pulled out my phone to keep track on Google maps – This whole technology thing is pretty cool after all.
Eventually I saw my bus stop and lo and behold! there was my hotel! Satisfied that my solo travel skills were still up to scratch, I was greeted with the pleasure of hearing I would not have to change room the next night when the rest of the tour would join us. Thank goodness for that as the second bed very rapidly became an absolute bomb site. When travelling professionally, clothing items are kept to a minimum and quickly stored away in the wardrobe. Travelling for holiday however, leads to the inevitable case of “where the heck did I put my PJ’s”, itself leading to the resignation that yes, you’re just going to have to empty the suitcase completely already.
Nevertheless, a quick shower and my weekly episode of Game of Thrones finished (because nothing is worth the risk of spoilers), it was soon past 2:00. In the morning I would be meeting up with another girl also starting our tour in Helsinki, and of course, visiting the city before meeting the rest of the group in the evening, and preparing for the leap that would be Russia.
25/7/17 – The Fish, the Moose, the Boat
Having slept a total of 4 hours (not sleeping enough is a basic Contiki ritual anyway), I woke up to find the weather fairly poor, and proceeded to go to breakfast where I met Sheeana, also starting in Helsinki that day. We grabbed a decent breakfast – leaving the stinking Finnish fish in the corner where it belongs – and went to start off the day together. First however, we both reorganised our rooms as much as possible in the eventuality that we were to receive an extra person in our rooms when the rest of the tour arrived.
With trusty Google Maps on our side, and the help of trip advisor, we headed off and into the wilderness of Helsinki. To sum it all up, I would have to say there really isn’t much to do. Unless you have the chance to go to the islands by boat, or even better to head across the water to Estonia for the day, Helsinki just doesn’t offer much. Our first stop was the parliament square and its accompanying church, very white and very modern. It had a decent looking organ, but other than that not much to say there really.
We decided to continue eastward from here where we encountered a nice local market. Stalls of particular interest included the salmon vendors (fried or fresh) which smelled amazing, the fur vendors (fox or reindeer), and the intense amount of gifts made from reindeer horn. It goes to show that if you can make it, a tourist will probably buy it!
Following from the market was the Uspenski church (Red Church), one which looked slightly older and nicer than the precious one, albeit I wouldn’t have guessed it was any older than the 1800’s (N.B. A correct assumption as the church was built apparently in the 1860’s). This is a god time to point out actually that one of the top 30 attractions of the city is the museum of Finnish architecture. Apparently that’s a really big deal, although looking at the available churches and monuments, I was thus far unimpressed. This church in particular was a very deep red/bordeaux shade, quite a nice colour, but the inside showed only your typical Orthodox designs found in most churches with nothing of great importance.
With this covered, we headed back westward until eventually making our way past the train station – which would later become our curse – and toward the parliament. My grasp of international politics is only basic, so you can imagine we weren’t particularly fussed with going to see Finnish politics! Instead we contoured the parliament house to find the Rock Church (thank goodness for Google Maps, how did people even travel before?!), which as its name indicates, is a church built in a large pile of rocks. Quite unique in architecture actually, the church is literally carved into the rock, offering some very nice colours and acoustics. We sat briefly to listen to the pianist play, and enjoyed experiencing the audio system literally “shushing” people – never had that before!
We finally decided to head to the natural history museum around the corner where we were met with a very heavy entrance fee and fairly low interest in the actual museum. The focus seemed to be more on the many museum shops than the actual exhibits, and we decided that the entrance fee would be better used on lunch. And thus we conclude our visit of Helsinki! By this point it was about 11:00 and no matter what map or reviews we looked at, there simply was nothing else of interest. Tours of the islands were too late to start, day trips to Estonia returned too late, and our interest in amusement parks and aquariums was fairly limited.
So this is where the real fun begins! We decided to return to the markets for an early lunch. On the way there, we came across what I can only describe as the creepiest looking fish statue, complete with pointy sharp teeth and a cool tail. I don’t recall seeing this mentioned anywhere in the things to see, but it quickly became a highlight of our day.
We had seen and smelled the grilled fish at the markets, served with roast potatoes, and thought to go straight for that. However what we had missed seeing on our first market visit was the reindeer and moose meat. We felt of course that this would be a Finnish right of passage, and therefore decided to give a try of the moose meatballs, or “Mooseballs” as they would later be referred to. I’m not going to lie, I will never look at IKEA meatballs the same way. I am aware that that is in Sweden and we were in Finland, but really they looked and tasted very similar, with the same cranberry sauce on the side, so I am now sceptical of the IKEA meat used… Still, not a bad experience, especially when paired with a Nutella crepe with whipped cream for dessert.
From there we returned toward the hotel, had a quick walk further up north where we were hit by the rain, and soon decided to drop off stuff at the hotel before going to a café for a soft drink. We then went back across the bridge to the central train station, as we had seen in the Helsinki hotel that a note had been left by our tour manager saying we needed passport photos for the upcoming Belarus visa. Mine of course were on my kitchen table. Therefore I needed to get new ones done, but since I refused to pay 30 Euros to get them done in a shop, we needed to locate the only automatic photo booth in the city, at the train station.
We eventually found the photo booth where I was able to, with much difficulty, get some photos sorted. Next, we also needed money for the visa – 73 US dollars to be precise. Why in dollars? Who knows. Suffice to say we were left needing to find a money exchange to get the right sum, which luckily was also at the train station. Unfortunately, they refused a withdrawal from our bank cards without a passport (An EU driver’s license apparently isn’t good enough) which we had both left at the hotel. So we thanked the cashier, walked back to the hotel for the passport, and walked back across the bridge and to the train station, again.
With our dollars safely in hand, we chose to avoid the rain with a quick shopping trip before crossing the bridge again back towards the hotel. This time however, we decided it was time to up our game and change the pace. There was a boat on the river which served as a pub that we’d seen every time we crossed the bridge. We obviously were not going to miss out on a boat pub – or is it pub boat? – and went to grab a pint.
By this point, it was finally time to meet our tour manager, Hayley, for some information on our trip. 6 of us were starting in Helsinki, around 8 or so had joined in Stockholm and 4 more would be meeting us in St Petersburg, which made for a nice crew. After the meeting, we took a bus drive into town (across the bridge and past the train station, AGAIN) where we dispersed for dinner. A few of us tried to go to the Irish Pub, but as they did not serve food, we headed to the local Vapiano’s for some lasagna.
After the dinner, we returned to the hotel for a full meeting about Russia with the rest of the group, to get more information on the programme, how we get there and what to expect. The words “it’s not wrong, it’s just Russia” were said so many times I had goose-bumps from sheer anticipation! I couldn’t start to imagine what would be waiting on the other side of that border, but it seemed it would be very different to anything we’d ever known – how right I was!
With this all sorted, we decided to all head out to celebrate the departure of those on the tour not continuing to Russia, and meet the new people joining the tour – us! It was a good chance to meet with our group properly, all very nice and welcoming, and grab one last beer before starting 2 weeks of pure vodka. So thank you Finland, it was interesting (and expensive!) but our attention was now turned eastward, towards the land of eternal cold, of hard liqueur and – from what it seemed – a tough border control. It was finally time for Mother Russia.
26/7/17 – A Whole New World
An early wake-up and breakfast, and we were out of there by 8:30, on our way to the border. Joao, our fantastic driver, made good time, getting us to a final Finnish petrol station for our last taste of Euros and Latin letters, after about 2 hours. With our snacks in hand, we were off to our first border.
In retrospect, getting out of Finland was a lot harder than it should have been. We marched the full coach to the 2 guards checking passports. One merely scanned the passports and moved you on, but the other scrutinised the document and asked questions. So guess which one I got… He asks where I’m from, where is Oullins (my town of birth) and starts flipping through the pages. When did I get to Europe? So the problems begin… I tell him I live in London, which was not an answer he liked, as this of course led to the question of where my visa for that was.
Due to my frequent travel for work, I had chosen not to run the risk of the Russian embassy keeping my EU passport for an indefinite period of time as it would impede on my work, and instead had gotten my visa in my Australian passport. Given some people explained they had needed up to 2 months in some cases to get the visa, I believe this was the right call. However the night before at our meeting, Hayley had told us dual citizens to only carry the passport with the Russia visa, and leave the other somewhere safe for the duration of the Russia/Belarus excursion. This is how you end up with me standing in front of a border officer holding my passport and refusing to return it until I provide the other one. Which naturally was in a small bag, in my suitcase, on the bus. So off I ran, passport-less into no-man’s land, to pull out my knickers and find the passport, which of course he glanced at for no longer than a split second.
Finally let through the Finnish we drove onward towards the Russian border, looking at the queue of cars waiting to go through. I can say I’ve never been happy to do a coach trip and thus fast track this whole process. I am fairly sure some of them slept in their cars that night. We finally stop the bus while Hayley goes to pick up our immigration forms and, with these filled out, it was time for the real thing.
The room is small, undecorated and eerily quiet. No talking, no laughing, no smiling. One at a time we went in front of the one border agent for a long process of glancing back and forth between the passport and the person. As we slowly progressed through immigration (it takes a while for a bus of about 45!), suddenly another officer opened his desk and I’m the first in line there. So I hand him my passport, he flicks through it, looks at me… And then he says “one moment, 5 minutes” as he stands up, pushes me back out of the small cabin and leaves shutting the door behind him. Suddenly I’m back in the queue with the rest of my fellow travellers, but passport-less for the second time today – longest 5 minutes of my life!
He finally returns, resumes the looking back and forth at me and my document, then there is the blissful sound of stamping and I’m finally through to Russia! Oh no wait, not just yet. As we drive off into the world of Cyrillic letters, we are stopped one final time, an officer comes onboard and checks each visa one last time. Honestly, it’s like they don’t want people to come into Russia… But finally, we were through. This is it, we’re in.
We were welcomed into Russia by Hayley by a video of the local music, a song named “I’m from Russia”, which although it perfectly evokes all the stereotypes from start to finish. She claimed all the clubs played this music, and by god I hoped she was joking. On the other hand, our wake-up song – one which is played every time we arrive at a place we will be stopping – was called “Vodka on the Rocks”. Much like the previous song, it is a song which oh so perfectly explains what we’re up against in Russia. And of course, Hayley polished it all off by playing music from “famous 90’s Russian group”. And that’s how you get a busload singing “All the Things She Said” at the top of their lungs – way to go TATU.
From there we drove straight on to St. Petersburg. The Russian drivers appeared to be your regular level of crazy thus far. You know, overtaking on the one lane highways, no real quantifiable speed limits, people standing on the side of the highway just gazing on – just the usual stuff really. We also used the time on the drive to prepare and arrange for our plans and activities, as the city had quite a lot to offer and we only had 3 days to take it all in. Having arrived in the mid-afternoon (the tour plans for extra time in case border security is too long), Sheeana and I decided to celebrate the fact that we would be roommates on the trip by relaxing a bit before dinner.
After a good power nap, we got dressed a bit nicer than our day clothes and headed down to dinner. The Russian buffet style of eating takes some getting used to. While the British have perfected the art of queuing up, the Russians don’t seem to have this word in their vocabulary, it’s more a question of “why bother waiting in line when I want that thing over there?”. So that’s how one misses out on getting roasted potatoes for dinner – I guess I’m just not Russian enough for that.
We then headed to the bus and met Ana, our local tour guide for a few days while in St. Petersburg. Ana is simply fabulous and not at all what we would have expected of a fine, well spoken Russian woman. When she opened with a lengthy giggle session followed by “I love Russia and I hate Putin as much as you do”, we knew we were in good hands. The drive to the canals was only about 15 minutes, but what a fantastic quarter of an hour. So many laughs I could feel my abs were working out – not what you’d expect for a first impression of Russia!
As we got off the bus, our other local helper Serj – referred to as “Dodgy Serj” – pulled out the goods. While he honestly looked like the type of man who could provide you with a Kalashnikov in 20 minutes (cash only), tonight he was providing our trip supplies. Most of us had pre-ordered either Champansky – the local version of Champagne – or Beluga vodka, a very nice vodka which outside of Russia would cost us far more than we would normally be willing to spend. As such, Sheeana and I decided to split a bottle (not because of the price but because of the size!). I have never looked so alcoholic in my life as I did right then, walking along the street cradling my bottle of vodka against my chest.
The tour of the canals was quite nice, particularly in such beautiful weather, if a bit cold – thank god for vodka! St. Petersburg is a beautiful city which honestly looks a lot like your usual European cities, which Ana explained was because its founder, Peter the Great, did not like Russian architecture choosing instead to westernise Russia. It was a beautiful tour with an insane amount of bridges, meaning our guides emphasised on the importance of ducking for each bridge. In Ana’s words, “you hit, you dead”. Yep, makes sense.
After about an hour and a half of boat tour – and vodka – we returned to the hotel and proceeded onward to the hotel bar. Here was a chance to get to know each other and the new people who had met us in St. Petersburg, including one guy who had gotten to Stockholm but hadn’t realised he would need a visa to go to Russia, and had therefore been left behind with an express visa request. We stayed out not as late as we could have, but as we knew we would have an early start in the morning, we felt it was better to try to get at least 6 hours sleep if we could!
27/7/17 – Of Swans and Romanovs
A tough morning to start off, as we were both quite tired and had a very hard time getting out of bed. Only the promise of breakfast, or rather the fear of missing out on food, was sufficient to get us going. An omelette, sausage and questionable muffin later, we were on the road to our tour of St. Petersburg. I stopped first at the hotel bar to buy some water and saw the bartenders were the same as the night before. I offered a joke in consequence and was met with a silent, stoic gaze – do not make jokes in Russia.
Ana took us on a bus tour around the city showing us the sights and giving us a full run-down of the history of St. Petersburg and its buildings. The photo stops included notably St. Isaac’s square and cathedral, an impressive monument which cost the lives of almost all of its builders – good old slavery. We also saw a pair of sphinxes taken straight out of Luxor and now sitting in front of the Imperial Academy of Arts, a beautiful old building. On top of this is a gold statue of the goddess of the arts adorned with the face of Catherine the Great. This was the first of many encounters with this important figure throughout our trip, a fabulous woman – and not just because she puts her face on that of a goddess!
A few more stops later, we found ourselves at the Peter and Paul Fortress, the original citadel built by Peter the Great, for a guided tour with Ana. The main attraction and visit was the cathedral, a beautifully decorated work of Russian Orthodox religion. The most interesting part of the cathedral however were the tombs it contained. There were about a dozen or so tombs, each representing goodness knows how many Tzars and members of the Romanov family. Peter the Great was there of course, along with his daughter Elizabeth – known for owning 15,000 dresses and emptying the Russian treasury. Catherine the Great also featured of course with many others, but most importantly, it is the final resting place for the last Romanovs.
According to Ana, Nicolas the second, his wife and their 5 children (of which the Grand Duchess Anastasia) were murdered shortly after his forced abdication of the throne, and secretly buried in 2 separate graves. The whole story was hushed over, with severe penalties for anyone a bit too nosy (N.B. this being communist Russia time, severe penalties were VERY severe), until the fall of the Iron Curtain. One of the graves had been found by then and relatives from around the world (including Great Britain’s very own Prince Philip) donated blood samples to help identify the remains of the family.
They were later buried in the cathedral of the fortress, and following this, members of the Romanov family descended from those whom had been allowed to flee Russia during the revolution are now able to choose to be buried there as well. The second grave was only found later, quenching all rumours of Anastasia’s escape and survival, and these remains are still in the archives for testing before they are buried in the future in the cathedral as well. Honestly, the whole story was incredible and gave us shivers.
From here we made our way back to the bus and to the Hermitage Palaces. This museum, consisting of 5 huge buildings, used to be a place of residence for many of the rulers (including, and perhaps most importantly, Catherine the Great) and also an art gallery, theatre and much more. It was a jaw-dropping sight. Palaces like that of Versailles or Windsor simply pale in comparison to this testimony of Russian riches and grandeur throughout the ages (for the royals at least). Seeing all the rooms in one day is simply impossible, so Ana took us around one main section, leaving to decide how much more we wanted to visit afterwards.
We’re talking countless portrait galleries including paintings of Catherine and her only legitimate son. It is unknown how many illegitimate children she had as she took so many lovers, but scholars currently estimate the number to be about 18 children. Of her apartments, the most noteworthy room was her boudoir, in which she had a giant mirror placed… on the ceiling right above her bed. I say again, what a woman! She was 67, he was 23, and she clearly had some pretty solid ideas of how to pass time at night!
The palace also harbours a room covered entirely in gold, one filled with the gold and silver dining sets of the Romanov family, and countless paintings and tapestries from all over the world. Were one to see the entirety of the Hermitage in one day, they would never need to visit a palace again in their lives. And I haven’t even gone in detail about the architecture of the place, which was a work of art in itself. Safe to say that I was in awe.
Once the group had dispersed after Ana had finished her section of the tour, Sheeana, Taylah and I decided to continue with another few rooms. Most of this consisted of Roman mythology represented on paintings, tapestries or statues, so I obviously was quite happy with that. The exit to this palace was also right through the Egyptian exhibition with some pretty amazing pieces to show. Eventually we had been walking over 2 hours and it became apparent that it was simply an overload of things to see in a day, so we decided to call it a day and get some lunch.
Ana and Hayley had mentioned a pie shop supposed to make “pie monsters” out of the most reluctant of pie eaters. We found the place and somehow even figured out which of the pies was beef, so we lined up in a queue just as a large tour group walked in. One of the guys gets in front of us, as is to be expected in Russia. He orders a pie and it occurs to me right then that this was the tour guide and he was going to be helping every person on his tour to order their pies one by one. Oh hell no, that was not going to happen. I had missed out on potatoes the night before because I wasn’t Russian enough, but I certainly wasn’t risking to miss out on pie, no sir! So I lock gazes with the waitress and order our food. The Russian man was suddenly furious about seemingly being cut in front of, but no sir-y, I’ve learnt how it works in Russia and I will run with it!
The pies were nice, but I feel like it wasn’t worth risking my life fighting an angry Russian for it. Satisfied with lunch nonetheless, we decided to walk around the main street as we only had about an hour of free time left. Russia is an interesting place. As we walked down the street, I was very fond of the 2 cars simply parked in the middle of an intersection. Not on the curb or anything no, in the smack bam middle of a 4 lane 4 way intersection, just waiting. I was also a little dubious about St. Petersburg when hearing that the bridges of the city would all go up at 1:30 in the morning. Miss the last bridge and you wait until 5:00 for them to go back down. And we thought the lockout laws in Brisbane were tough…
I took a moment to sing the song from the movie “Anastasia” about St. Petersburg (because as a nerd I have some basic needs) and we then made it back to the bus. Once back at the hotel, it was a race against time to get changed and ready for the ballet. I eventually decided to drop the idea of heels in favour of flats, but adorned my only dress for the trip, and so we were all glamorously off to our traditional Russian dinner – in an Italian restaurant, makes sense.
Not much to be said about the salad or the pumpkin soup, other than the fact that we inhaled our vegetables thinking in Russia we probably would not see much of those (how wrong we would turn out to be). Beef Stroganoff was the main part of that dinner, as it was a dish invented in St. Petersburg, and it was damn good – once you’ve picked out the mushrooms of course.
We were at the concert hall by 7:30, and what a theatre – it is worth the trip on its own. It is simply stunning, red and gold everywhere, with about 5 stories worth of boxes onlooking the stage. We had a few boxes reserved for our group, and took full advantage of this liberty while enjoying the performance. What to say? It was Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake” performed by the Russian ballet, of course it was beautiful. The start was very long, with a few synchronisation mistakes we picked up on, but on the whole an enjoyable performance. One of the key entertainments of the evening was when a toddler started crying again straight after the intermission, and 3 Russians got up and started clapping very loudly to get the kid thrown out in the middle of the performance. Russians are special hey…
It was nice, but I wasn’t particularly moved by the performance, particularly the end where the lovers lived happily ever after. There are a number of alternative endings to the Swan Lake, and I had figured that being as all Russian stories end in blood and death, at least one if not both lovers would be killed off. Apparently the Russian ballet prefers the happy endings however, how odd. In any case, we were left deliberating the meaning behind the performance, including the reasons why an evil wizard would want a harem of women-swans, and headed back to the hotel. This time we chose to have an early night, no bar trip, as we were quite frankly exhausted from the incredible day, and eager for more the next day.
28/7/17 – Everybody Loves to Dance
Another early start to the morning, we rushed through breakfast and were on the coach by 8:00, ready to go. With a longer drive out this time (enough for a small nap!) we made it to the Peterhof gardens and palace. Having been through a multitude of palaces already with more to come, this particular house wasn’t part of the visit, instead focusing on the beautiful gardens of Peter the Great’s summer estate. Very nice gardens, but very different to those of Versailles, these being a lot more leisurely than kingly.
We stood around on the bridges overlooking the fountain to allow for a good spot to watch the supposedly fabulous fountain show starting at 11:00. A complete waste of time if you ask me. It’s just music with water running, no light show or dancing fountains, so quite far from the Dubai fountain here. With that, we returned to the coach for the drive back to town, while Ana told us all about the life and death of the famous Rasputin. It’s surprising just how much sense there now is in the Boney-M song of the same name. Between his supposed healing abilities, survival of poison and even perhaps of being shot, he certainly makes for an impressive character.
We got dropped off in town for some free time, and so decided to get some local lunch this time. We found a very cute outdoor tent, no doubt a summer addition to the restaurant, and ordered a couple of traditional items. Some local dumplings (Pelmeni), a borsch soup (beetroot and something else that doesn’t taste like beetroot) and a lulah kebab which is supposedly Armenian but we make do. Next to the restaurant was a violinist on an electric violin kicking out some modern pop songs who opened with a rendition of “Despacito” – Joao’s favourite song which we heard everywhere we went!
The best part of that meal was without a doubt the colouring pencils given to us with the place mats. Give 3 grown women coloured pencils and it’s a party! Eventually I decided it was time to go in order to see something of the city, and so I headed to the Kunstkamera museum, where I met a few of the others from our tour. The line to get in was huge, but we figured it was too late to go somewhere else, so we stuck with it.
Most of the museum is made of exhibits on various parts of the world, more descriptive than actual artefacts. The main part of it however was one room dedicated to malformed foetuses in jars. Of course, that’s the one we were going in to see, so we rushed straight to it. Peter the Great was fascinated with this sort of anatomical differences, and built the exhibition, however he was surprised to see that people were not wanting to go see, and so began offering a free shot of vodka to visitors. This tradition unfortunately did not carry to the 21st Century. It’s an interesting sight I have to say, although far less creepy than I had anticipated. From there however, because of the length of the queue to get in, I had to run back to the bus to make it just on time for our rendez-vous.
This is where the fun begins. We were taken to a special shop for souvenirs where they serve you alcohol while you shop – essentially until you pass out or buy the whole stock. My personal shopper, Eugene, was lovely and helped me find the perfect Matryoshka (Russian doll), a music box and a few more items. By the time we left, I was resigned to my fate of living off 2 minute noodles for the next month to cover the expenses. But no regrets, I got my souvenirs, I had my shots and I was ready to hit up the next part of the day.
The evening plans started with a folklore show. They opened with a great quartet of men singing a capella, definitely worthy of Pitch Perfect and more, and were joined by musicians and dancers. The dresses were beautiful, as were the men’s costumes, all very colourful and twirly. They included the audience in their performance as well, thus keeping us both interested and entertained throughout. The intermission consisted of drinks (vodka) and a few canapés (caviar). Following this, the dances started to increase the tempo, and in came the Cossack dancers. My goodness that is impressive. The sheer strength of legs required for this is unbelievable. And of course, when they aren’t squatting and kicking their legs out, they are jumping and doing the splits in the air – now THAT is a man! Suffice to say the show was very much appreciated by all of us.
One key point we also took from the show was the Russian meowing. During our tour of the city, Ana had started to meow occasionally to call us over to her, and we thought no more of it. But during the dances, the ladies would sometimes yell, and sometimes meow while dancing with the men. The explanation is simple and goes back to good old Catherine the Great once again. Her much younger lover lived in the apartments directly below her own, and so on days when she felt in the mood, she would open her window and meow to let tell him to take the secret passage straight to the ceiling mirror. I say again, what a woman! Apparently it would seem this has fallen into Russian popular culture, and we absolutely loved it!
After the show, we decided to head into town for some Friday night party with the locals. Hayley took us to a bar which works around the different seasons of the year and their associated holidays. As such, we were greeted by the Easter bunny running the show, or at least a Russian version of it. We had a few drinks before St. Patrick’s day, and later of course came Christmas. Santa Clause organised some sort of around the circle dancing, to which the more adventurous of our group participated, trying to follow with the odd dancing style. Finally around midnight, it was time to celebrate New Year’s Eve, with sparklers and everything. We finished our drinks and decided it was time to call an Uber (more like 5 Ubers) to get us home. Each car fit probably around 5 people, which didn’t seem to bother our driver Stan as he desperately tried to make his way across the bridge before they all went up for the night – good move!
29/7/17 – Spilled Blood and Spilled Drink
Rise, shine and pack this morning! With a poor weather forecast for the day, we somehow put our suitcases back together, grabbed a quick breakfast (the cheese soufflé I had been eyeing off for 3 days turned out to be sweet. Did not go well with the sausages…) and off we were. Our first stop was the church of Spilled Blood, which is basically the only true Russian architecture church of St. Petersburg as it was built after the death of Peter the Great who wanted to westernise the city.
In memory of the death of Alexander II – and by death, I mean he was blown up in his carriage – his son decided to build a church on the exact place he had died – where blood had spilled. This is probably one of the most beautiful churches I have seen in the world, I was in awe. The external architecture consists of the colourful and round rooftops, which with its reddish walls makes it look like a ginger bread house. Magnificent, but it pales in comparison to the inside.
The church is built very tall, much like a Gothic style church would be, and its walls and ceilings are covered with Russian Orthodox designs. Entirely made of mosaics. Each square centimetre of the church, including the very high ceiling, is covered in tiny pieces of mosaic, each less than a square centimetre in surface area. I can only hazard a guess as to the amount of time that went into creating that. In the front is also a shrine dedicated to Alexander II on the exact place the bomb went off, where they even kept the original road. In one simple word: incredible.
With limited free time, it was not possible to make it to the Fabergé museum, which unfortunately had been closed the day before. Instead, Angela, Jacob and I walked the markets quickly and went hunting for some takeaway lunch and snacks to last us the bus journey as there would be no lunch stop today. Satisfied with a questionable looking sandwich, we returned to the bus and made for the siege of Leningrad memorial. On the way, Hayley played an explanatory video of the number of deaths involved in World War 2, just to get us in the mood basically. To say that it gave a grim view of the world would be an understatement.
At the monument we met Ana, who would be our guide once again for the last time. The monument, or rather memorial, was built on the exact place where after the German troops had laid siege to Leningrad – the name of St. Petersburg during communist times – for 900 days (that’s 2 and a half years), the Russian troops were finally able to pierce through and enter the city. By then, only about 200,000 out of the 2 million people who had not been able to escape the city were still alive. The majority died of starvation, despite having resolved to cannibalism to survive, and had fought off the coldest winters of their history with no heating or electricity. This was more than just a bleak sight. In my many years of travel, no memorial has ever hit me so hard. Ana’s words describing the absolute hell these people would have gone through was enough to bring many of us close to tears.
After the tour, we grabbed a drink at the nearby hotel, bid farewell to Ana and departed, on our way to Novgorod – the founding city of Russia. Once there, we were given a welcome surprise of having individual rooms, which meant more space and flexibility on going out later. Here we had very little time though, so we dropped our bags and made our way straight back to the bus for a tour of the city with Irina, our local guide for the city.
As Hayley had warned us, Irina was much more a typical Russian than the bubbly Ana had been, and opened with a strong Russian accent to say “Novgorod is the best city in Russia”. Hayley had given us this perfect imitation earlier in the day, so this had us giggling most of the tour. We drove around the town, past the oldest street in Russia, past a few 9th century churches similar in build to the Church of Spilled Blood but with very limited colour. Eventually we made it to the Kremlin (essentially the old city walls/fortress) where there is a monument dedicated to the greatest leaders of Russia, like Ivan the Great, Peter the Great (of course) and Rurik, the Viking/Varangian chief who founded Novgorod and Russia. An interesting tour of Russia’s earliest beginnings.
We returned to the hotel for dinner – another lot of salad, some sort of chicken escalope and a strange brioche like dessert. Afterwards we went to the supermarket next door to pick up some snacks for the long drive ahead tomorrow. On leaving however, we were hit with what can only be described as a deluge. The heavens simply opened up and unleashed hell over us. We got drenched returning to the hotel, and when we saw the rain was forecasted until 2:00 at least, a lot of hesitation ensued on whether to go ahead with our evening plans.
In the end, the promise of dance and vodka won the better of us, and with Joao offering a lift to the club, we were off in the rain. The club was on a beautiful old ship, with a sheesha bar on the top deck which we went straight to as it was still early to go dancing. We were supposed to meet with a group of Russian students on the boat – the main reason for us going out – but in the end they had decided not to brave the rain and stayed home. So we finished our drinks and took to the dance floor. The rules on sitting at a table were a bit sketchy, and equally we were not allowed drinks on the dance floor, so it quickly became apparent that shots were the way to go.
It turned out to be a splendid night, with the DJ giving me a shout-out in Russian after we requested a Beyonce song – always nice! I also discovered that fire and alcohol do not make for a nice mix, as the bartender lit my shot on fire and handed me a straw. I had seen the straw melt in Angela’s drink, so I decided to dip the straw in quickly, all the while keeping the fired shot at a safe distance from me. A bad idea as it turns out. Halfway through, the glass tipped over leading to fire going on the bar. The bartender didn’t seem particularly bothered as he put the fire out with menus. For my part, I decided fire shots were not for me, thanked the barman and returned to my dancing. By about 2:00, the rain had finally subsided and the last remaining of us decided to call it a night. What is a bus trip for if not to sleep on the drive right?
30/7/17 – The Most Beautiful City
I didn’t feel the vodka at all during our night out, or even at 3:00 when we had finally made it to bed. In the morning however, that was a different story. When trying to get out of bed, it was well apparent that there had been copious drinking the night before, and it seemed that everyone felt the same. Sheeana had even managed to lose her room key during the night, which we could not find in spite of turning the room upside down – who knows where that will turn up. With everyone running to sit at the front of the bus, I grabbed a seat in the back and was delighted to get 2 seats to myself, thus proceeding to sleep the first leg of our journey to Moscow.
Most of the road is basic highway, so it’s just long. Russian country roads are filled with little old houses, woodlands everywhere, and roads which could seriously use a bit of taxpayer’s money – writing my memoirs on the drive was far more challenging than anticipated. On occasion we could also see bears kept in cages, no doubt for a paid photo stop. It’s not wrong, it’s just Russia… but it’s still kind of wrong… We stopped at a petrol station for a coffee to help kill the last remnants of vodka from the night before. On the next leg of journey, Hayley tried to play Anastasia to keep us entertained in Romanov style, but due to a system fault, had to settle for Troy – a classic Russian fairytale.
Lunch consisted of a McDonald’s stop as there was nothing else anywhere around. For such a small town though, it was a rather fancy Maccas, with automatic machines to place our order, which with a bus of about 45 ravenous tourists meant a long time to order! We got back on the bus just before 16:00 and drove around the corner. There is situated the house in which Tchaikovsky lived for his final 8 or so years while still composing. It was unfortunately closed on the Sunday, so we could only take pictures from the outside, but I understand it still houses his pianoforte.
We finally arrived at our hotel and went straight to dinner in the hotel for a buffet. Following this, it was time to go right back downstairs for our first glimpse of Moscow. We met Gallina here who would be our local guide for the next few days. Not like Ana either, but what Gallina lacked in bubbly smiles, she more than made up for in stories and experiences of Russia’s past. Goodness that woman could talk, but you would just hang on to her every word.
Gallina put us back on the bus and drove us around Moscow – my goodness what an incredible city. As we drove she shouted to look right, now left, now right, showing us all the main buildings of importance. The bus stopped in front of the Moscow university, which is a building worth the view itself. It looks like a shorter version of the Empire State Building, and is one of the “seven sisters” of Moscow – 7 skyscrapers in Stalinist architecture. We were then taken to the Red Square, which is just amazing. With clear weather, the Church of St. Basil is simply stunning.
We took a few pictures, walked around the square quickly and returned to the hotel. Once there, Taylah joined us for a drink in our room – as we still had the vodka bottle from the first night – and we put on the TV. King Kong in Russian is a lot of gorilla noises and screams of “Nyet! Nyet! Nyet!”, which made for a good end to the night before finally sleeping on a mattress instead of a coach.
31/7/17 – A Chilling World
After a fairly nice breakfast, good choice of buffet, we were off to visit Statue Park. This is basically, like the name entails, a park with statues everywhere. The statues themselves have various stories with each one, but the highlight of this tour wasn’t as much the sights, it was Gallina. Our guide told us about her experiences living in communist time, the constant fear they lived in, the brain washing they went through from birth and how it shaped their lives, and so much more. It was absolutely chilling. The things she spoke of brought tears to our eyes because they were impossible for us to fathom, and yet had been true for this woman and so many others. A very different side to Russia than we had seen thus far and one that certainly made us reflect on the simplicity of our lives.
We were left to wonder around the park briefly before making a run for the bus which Joao was illegally parking on the side of the bridge road. With the football world cup coming up next year, Moscow is undergoing some serious renovations, meaning roadworks absolutely everywhere. Joao had to improvise quite a number of parking spots along the way. From there we were taken to Bunker 42, which I had incorrectly thought was a civilian bunker but was actually built for military actions.
I can say without a doubt that this is the only part of the tour I did not enjoy. By this point, we’d looked at the First and Second World Wars, the time of communist Russia and all the horrors that had come associated with these. This bunker was built for Stalin but completed only after his death right in the midst of the Cold War. This time the focus was on the nuclear race, showing various atomic or hydrogen bomb examples, and I just had enough of massacres for one trip. To make it all better, the tour guide locked us in a section of the bunker and ran a surprise bomb simulation, which made me jump out of my skin and probably began a future mild claustrophobia. Gallina had mentioned that Russians never smiled because only the KGB used to smile, usually before a threat, so the fact that this guide was smiling broadly should have tipped me off. All in all, I was not a fan.
After the bunker tour, we were dropped off in the Red Square and left to roam the city freely. Unfortunately being a Monday, we were told museums would be shut, so that took away most of our options. Instead we went for a walk around town as a larger group and went to get lunch in Arbat Street, an old street filled with traditional Russian objects. We found ourselves a local restaurant which served more Pelmeni. This time I got a mixed platter and there were so many on the plate that they almost had to roll me out of the restaurant!
Having had some difficulties in paying the bill, we left a bit late and dispersed each in our own way. Angela and I went back to the Red Square and to the church of St Basil which is just as beautiful in the day as it is at night. Then it was finally time for my big moment. Angela took out her phone, put on the song, and I danced the “Just Dance” sequence to Boney-M’s “Rasputin”, right there, in front of the church, in the middle of the Red Square. As I write these words, the KGB (or FSB as it is called now) has not yet caught on to me, but we shall see how the future holds!
Angela decided then to take the bus back to the hotel with the group, but since we had so little time in Moscow to see everything, I chose to stay in town and meet the other girls at 18:00. I felt that seeing this church so soon after the church of Spilled Blood would not do it justice and decided to leave that for a next time. Instead, I went for a long walk to get to the cathedral of Christ the Saviour, a beautiful white monument adorned with golden domes. By the time I made it back to the Red Square, I just had enough time to pick up a drink and ice cream (it was incredibly hot!) before meeting the girls.
That was the plan in theory anyway. In practice, they were running late, and with no internet connection, we had no means of communication. After 15 minutes, I figured they must have decided to go back earlier also, and Alex and I (whom I had run into just before) started to make our way to the metro station, only to see Sheeana and Taylah arrive behind us. Apparently the macaroons had been more important! We then went to the shops to buy an outfit for Sheeana, and finally made our way home by metro, getting us back to the hotel by 19:15. Of course, we had big plans for the night which meant getting ready at the speed of light – again!
For the evening, we got dressed up nice and fancy and made our way to a restaurant called Café Pushkin. This is a 5 star restaurant with beautiful decorations and atmosphere, where many great Russian writers and composers would dine, maybe looking for inspiration. I can definitely see why, as not only was the interior very nice, the food would definitely inspire anyone creative enough! We sat as a table of 8 people and had a fabulous dinner at a surprisingly affordable price considering the setting – good old Russia.
From there, we walked down the Ritz-Carlton. Not because we wanted to look all fancy, but because its location meant that the rooftop bar overlooked the Red Square and the Kremlin. At night, with the perfect lighting, it was a view well worth the price of the cocktails – and the breaking of my heels! There we ran into a few others from our group and stayed out for a few hours enjoying the view, before all getting Ubers back to the hotel where I sadly threw out my last pair of nice shoes!
1/8/17 – Rocks and Rock On!
The day began interestingly today with a metro tour. The Moscow metro is basically a work of art in itself, and is without a doubt the most beautiful subway system in the world. As such, Gallina took us around to various stations with some of the more impressive art or statues. The metro was another part of the communist brain washing of the time, and so the art almost exclusively represents the benefits of communism, the strength of the Soviet Union and the great qualities of Stalin and Lenin – your usual urban art really. Consequently however, the government has decided to take it all down (no doubt in an effort to distance themselves from their grim past) and so this is probably one of the last times we will see this magnificent metro as it was.
We finished the tour in the Red Square where we saw the hour long queue to see Lenin’s dead body. On his death, Stalin ordered scientists to find a way to preserve his body, and apparently they did. I’d already seen malformed foetuses on this trip, so I decided I didn’t want to waste an hour to see an even creepier dead body. Instead, I went straight for the history museum in the middle of the square. It turns out however that not all museums were closed on the Monday, as this one only shut on Tuesdays. Needless to say I was a more than a bit annoyed at this turn of events. So I regrouped with Angela and Lisa and we went for a walk to the theatre and its classy neighbourhood.
We had lunch in a nice would-be Italian restaurant. We had almost gone to a Moroccan place, but when I saw they served beef stroganoff and dishes with bacon, we felt it would not be as authentic as we would have liked. After lunch, we made our way towards the architecture museum which I knew would only open at 13:00. On our way there however, Angela spotted a poster that indicated the geology museum and sure enough, we were standing right in front of it. Turns out Angela is also a geology fan, and so while Lisa carried on to the cathedral from yesterday, we went into the fun that is a museum of rocks.
Russia is one of only 2 countries in the world which has malachite – a beautiful green patterned stone which I love. So naturally the Moscow geology museum had a large collection to see, as well as superb pieces from the Ural mountain range and some impressive fossils. We thoroughly enjoyed it, and ended up having to rush through the last room in order to still pick up some water before meeting our group at 15:00 back in the square.
We found Gallina on time who took us to the Kremlin, essentially the palace city where Putin and his government make all their decisions. He obviously helicopters in, but we just went through the intense security screening and avoided walking on the roads which would get you an intense session of whistling and if you weren’t careful, a sniper shot according to our guide. It is essentially a small fortress with churches, a giant bell, and palaces a-plenty. The main part of the tour however was the armoury, which covered weaponry, dresses, crowns, silverware and carriages. When we came to the dresses and carriages of Catherine the Great, we were delighted with yet more tales of this fabulous woman, including how she promised her lover to marry him if he helped her dispose of her husband, and after the deed decided instead to give him titles and land rather than marry him. What a woman, truly!
Eventually Gallina looked at her watch and realised we were running late. So she doubled the tempo and we were running after her trying to keep up with all the information she was supplying. In spite of the sheer information overload we were getting from her, we were still hanging on her every word, from Fabergé to Napoleon, with Romanov diamonds in between.
By the time we had made it out of the Kremlin, my goodness I was tired. I had known so little about Russia when arriving, and have soaked up absolutely everything our guides have said as a consequence. Add to that the physical tiredness from all the walking, suffice to say I did not look any good sitting on the steps waiting for the next part of our programme, but then neither did most people! We met the rest of the group and walked off to our dinner location where we were served traditional borsch and Chicken Kiev – which interestingly enough is from Russia, not Ukraine.
The highlight of the meal was that Meagan had bought an extra suitcase during the day, and obviously taken it with us to dinner. In order to avoid it getting in the way, we put it on the corner seat of our table. What I simply cannot understand is that the waiters seemed to believe the suitcase was going to have dinner with us, because they came around with a knife and fork placed in front of it. When asking for drinks they seemed confused when we said there were no drinks for that seat, and one actually put down a vegetarian soup in front of it – Apparently Russian suitcases don’t eat meat. When we passed the soup on to the next table where one girl was missing her vegetarian soup, chaos ensued as to why she was taking the suitcase’s soup. We then had to try to explain, in Russian, to the waiter that our suitcase was not joining us for dinner – something I never though I would have to do.
After dinner, we rushed our way back to the hotel via metro to get ready. As it was our last night in Moscow, we were going to celebrate that as a group, and equally we wanted to celebrate Angela’s birthday which was the next day, and who was leaving us in Moscow. So we invited a few girls to our room for some pre-drink vodka (still working on that Beluga bottle from the first night!) and champansky. Once ready, we took an Uber to town to the bar Hayley had suggested. Not quite a topless bar, as the waitresses were still wearing a bra, but definitely scantily clad. But hey, the drinks were cheap so no complaints! We ordered and split what they called the “metre of fun” – a board with not 6 or 9 shots like you would get in most countries, but a whopping 19 shots of vodka, whisky and tequila. Mother Russia knows her stuff!
It was a fabulous last night in Russia. The music was good and I convinced one of the waitresses dancing on the bar to look up and play our wake-up song – Vodka on the Rocks. What happened next was beautiful chaos. The whole bar – mostly us Contiki people – erupted in screams of joy and the bar dancer grabbed every girl she could find from our group and dragged us on to the bar to dance for it. The boys were soon covered by our purses we had thrown for safe keeping, and Jack and Christian broke into their Cossack dancing in the middle of the dance floor while us girls tried to keep our balance on the bar. Throughout the night, they would get girls up on the bar to dance to whichever song was playing, a lot of shots were had, and a lot of dancing. By the time we were sliding 5 of us in an Uber (with Sheeana lying across us once again) we had had the best night to bid Russia a fitting farewell.
2/8/17 – One of a Hundred Thousand
Great night, not so great morning! Those of us who weren’t hung-over were simply still drunk and quickly caught up to our hung-over state as well. We left the hotel at 6:45 and rapidly all fell asleep or passed out for the first leg of what is classified as the longest drive in Contiki history. I was sat next to Simon, a handsome Australian man (he asked for this description, who am I to refuse?) who soon enough became my pillow for the trip, and vice-versa. None of us looked any good on this drive!
We stopped at a petrol station where the coffee was suddenly a welcome help. Hayley tried to keep us entertained for the drive, but most of us either slept or watched our own movies. Eventually we made it to what Hayley called a “very local restaurant” for lunch. We were parked on the side of the highway and I concur: it did in fact look like a very local shack! We sat down to yet another cucumber, capsicum and cheese salad, which I think by then was our 4th time – getting a little over it – followed by a borsch. I was feeling fine by then and happily slurped my soup, but I could tell some of the still slightly under the weather guys were not so keen on the floating beetroot and veal. Once back on the bus, Hayley finally managed to put on Anastasia for us, and we were off again in style.
The Belarussian border was essentially non-existent. No one asked for passports. Heck! No one event stopped the bus. One minute we were stopped at a petrol station getting rid of our last Russian Rubbles, the next the colours on the flags had changed. I would come to appreciate the facility of this border at the next border the following day…
Hayley used this time to put on a couple of documentaries on Belarus for a better understanding of what is known as the last dictatorship in Europe. If the story of Russia’s communist past was uncomfortable, the stories of present Belarus leadership are just plain creepy. I can’t pass judgement on the government style, although the president taking his 11 year old son to all important meetings to teach him how to lead the country one day is seriously questionable. But I will say this for one thing: I’ve never seen a cleaner and tidier country in my life. Obviously something he’s doing must be working, even if it is just the fear of capital punishment.
We got to our hotel and went straight to dinner upstairs. Plot twist tonight: the cucumber, capsicum and cheese salad also had a slice of ham, that’s new! It was then followed not by borsch but rather chicken with omelette over the top. More importantly though, instead of a jug of water for the table, we were given a pitcher of vodka. Feeling much better, I figured what the hell, so on to a shot of vodka with the girls. Afterwards we grabbed our cameras from our rooms and met our local guide downstairs to start our walking tour of Minsk.
The city was essentially destroyed during World War 2, so it is primarily Stalinist architecture (built around the 1930’s-50’s) with quite a lot of monuments dedicated to various war stories. Within about 10 minutes we realised that most men we saw walking around were wearing a striped blue and white shirt with a sort of blue beret. It turns out the 2nd of August is their anniversary of the Afghan war in which many young Belarusian soldiers lost their lives. As such, every year on this day the men in the army wear the colours and place a flower on the monument built on the “island of tears” in their honour. It is a very moving scene to watch. Of course, this is then followed by a session at the bar where the men take a shot of vodka for each of their fallen comrade or family members, so by the time we finished our tour, they were definitely getting a bit rowdy!
Our walking tour took us around most of the main sights of Minsk, the majority of which being quite new and modern. Overall it’s a very nice city, but nothing much to attract more than the mere hundred thousand tourists that visit Belarus every year. By the end of the tour, we were exhausted. Between the long night out and the long drive, most of us were zombies walking through the streets. When we got back to the hotel though, we saw there was a pool, and suddenly the dynamics changed. Within half an hour, about a dozen of us were out paddling about happily or in the Jacuzzi. For the record, in answer to “how many people can fit in a 3 person tub?”, the answer is 8. Very cosy. After a bit of a swim, I washed and sort of dried my hair, then proceeded to happily pass out on my bed ready for yet another long day ahead of us.
3/8/17 – Borderline Crazy
It should have been such a sweet, blissful night to catch up on sleep. Alas! that was not to be. Our room having no air conditioning, we decided the only way not to suffocate would be to have the window and curtains open – I can sleep through the sunlight so who cares? That however was not withstanding the national remembrance holiday for the Afghan wars. While we went to sleep listening to rowdy soldiers singing and yelling down the street – as you would expect – this carried through the entire night. When I woke up around 5:30, there was a full blown concert going on, with a woman singing in a damn microphone. I’ll take this occasion for a reminder that it was a Wednesday night, so I presume most people would be returning to work in the morning. So I ask: Who the hell does a concert until 5:30 in the @#$%ing morning?!
Suffice to say, those who had had air con looked fine that morning, and those who like us had sweated all night from heat and gotten a personal look into Belarusian party life were easily identifiable from the grim faces. After a quick breakfast, we were once again off, bright and early, towards Poland – the last leg of our epic journey. We stopped at yet another petrol station on the way to pick up some sort of snacks as the next part of our trip meant we would not have a lunch stop once again.
Our final Belarusian stop was the Brest fortress, right on the border. Here they have put up a memorial and monument to the Unknown Soldier, once again for the Second World War The fortress was mostly destroyed during the war, but some of the walls and halls still remain, and a few tanks can be found and climbed onto for photographic delight – note that “sliding down gracefully” from tanks means giant bruises in the morning. We walked around for an hour while Hayley and Joao went to sort out our border crossing in an effort to shorten our time crossing. Thank goodness they did, or the endeavour would have taken so long we may have given up altogether and just stayed in Belarus!
Turns out getting into Belarus from Russia is a piece of cake, and heck, even getting into Russia with the correct visa is just a simple exercise of adopting a “no smiling” policy. Now getting into Poland however implies getting into the EU and that is a herculean feat! We passed the first checkpoint quickly as our guides had arranged it all during our fortress visit. The next checkpoint was a patrol officer boarding the coach and checking each passport before letting us proceed. We were then at the Belarusian border, off the coach. One woman. A bus of about 40-45 people, and a careful scrutinising process for each passport which took about a minute and a half per person. The math speaks for itself: it took well over an hour to get through, after which we waited another 20 minutes for our coach to be let through.
Off we were then to the Polish border! Once again, same number of people on the coach, but this time 2 border agents. Add to that the checking of the coach but thankfully without needing to take off our suitcases – total time another solid 30-40 minutes. Back on the coach, we had 2 more checkpoints with an officer boarding the coach once more and checking passports, and finally we saw the red and white flag flying high next to the ring of stars, with a sign saying “Welcome to Poland”. We were finally back in the EU! Total time of the ordeal: 3 hours. And we were fast track priority as a bus. I have absolutely no doubt that those at a full standstill in their cars at each checkpoint must have slept in no-man’s land in their cars.
We had been promised an hour long trip to our Maccas stop, but thankfully found a shopping centre with one earlier on the way. Joao adopted a “hand-brake turn” style of manoeuvre and we soon were running for the sweet bliss of cheeseburgers and nuggets, releasing us from starvation and soothing the post-traumatic stress of our recent border ordeal.
Once we were back on the coach, we each took turns at recounting our favourite place, food, photo, funny moment, “WOW moment” and words of wisdom from the trip. So to recap on my own then: favourite place was Moscow, as the city is just so damn beautiful. Favourite food were the Russian dumplings – I could eat those all day every day, except the yucky cabbage ones… Favourite photo was my video of dancing Rasputin in front of St Basil, although in hindsight having since then received some more photos from my group members, the one of Sheeana, Taylah and I on our war tank is freaking beautiful. My WOW moment was walking into the Red Square that first night and seeing the church for the first time lit for the night. I didn’t listen to a word Gallina said then as I was in awe. Funniest moments include Ana in a lot of them, but I would say explaining the dietary requirements of our suitcase to the waiter tops it all. And as for what I learned, other than the whole Russian history which I knew nothing about, a special shout-out goes to Catherine the Great who has given me new life goals!
We finally made it to the hotel, got changed, and for those of us wiling to brave it, were dropped off in Warsaw city centre. We all ended up in the same restaurant, a chain found everywhere in the city, particularly famous for its Pierogy – Polish dumplings, boiled or fried. While my heart still belongs to the Russian pelmeni, I’ll admit to having newfound love for the blue cheese and camembert pierogy. Accompany that with a vodka margarita/smoothie, and you’d got a great dinner. We then went to find a beer bar which served over a hundred different beers on tap, but when the rest of the girls arrived at 23:00 to start the evening of going out, the 3 of us decided to play it safe and get an Uber back – a decision which judging from the stories we heard, I do not regret one bit!
4/8/17 – The Grande Polonaise Finale
So, another night of not sleeping. Once again, no air conditioning in anyone’s room, but we did have a balcony meaning we could open the door. Once again, we were still far too hot (we were expecting 29 degrees during the day) and this time we were facing a 15 storey building construction site. And they start work at 5:30 to make sure it’s finished within time frames. Meaning once again, not enough sleep, but at least we were slightly more rested than the previous nights.
Breakfast was a welcome surprise with a guy making fresh omelettes and waffles, and nothing makes me happier in the morning than a fresh waffle! We then got to the bus where Olga, our local tour guide for the half day, met us and took us on a bus tour of Warsaw. She stopped first in front of a statue of Chopin in a beautiful park. Turns out Chopin was half French, half Polish, and lived about half his life in each country. Consequently, the French claim he was French and the Polish claim he was Polish. Given he is their only musical claim to fame, they are obsessed with him and I’ll let them keep the title. But just to put it out there, his name is pronounced with French pronunciation, and his pieces were given French names…
We were then taken to a memorial dedicated to the Jews who were killed during the war, situated in front of the museum on the history of Jews. It’s a nice monument and the museum is supposedly beautiful, but I was way over World War 2 by then. I already loathe modern history on the best of days, but having almost 2 weeks straight of learning more and more about the atrocities which occurred during this time, I had had my dose, and decided I would save the museum on the persecution of Jews for another day.
Following this, we were dropped off in the old town, an entire area they re-built after the war to look like it had before being demolished. We walked around town to the main square where they have a statue of a mermaid with a sword, the symbol of Warsaw. Obviously, being in the middle of the country with no sea access, Warsaw has a freshwater mermaid who kicks ass as their symbol. Yep, that’s a thing!
We then split up again, with Sheeana, Taylah and I having a bit of a walk around town, and the girls picking up a lody – the local ice cream. It didn’t look particularly nice, and didn’t taste particularly good either, so I’m glad I chose against that. We then went to another restaurant from the same chain and had some more pierogy. I had tried the boiled dumplings the night before, so I decided to try the fried ones this time, which I think might have been even better than the others!
I left the girls at the restaurant after lunch and decided to go visit the palace in the centre of the old town. Like everything else around here, it too was destroyed during the war and re-built in the same way as it had looked before, as close to the original as possible. The people had been able to save most of the artwork and furniture however, and therefore a lot of those were the original pieces. It resembles a smaller version of Versailles really, but was a nice visit made even better when I recognised a portrait of our fabulous lady – Catherine the Great. Poland having been a part of the Russian empire for a while, it makes sense that the great monarchs would show up.
Afterwards, I chose to go for a walk further out of the old town. I had seen there was a nice fountain further north and figured I’d go take a look. I found the fountain which unfortunately was not operating, but the area was nice, away from tourists and definitely looked like a nice place for locals to hang out. I walked around a little more and decided to finish my free time in a Costa to catch up on my writing. I found the Costa, and even a few more people from our group, but unfortunately I had left my notebook at the hotel. So I sat and chatted with a few of the guys there before we all made our way to the column in the square to meet the rest of the group.
For our final night we were going to a piano recital of Chopin – again, he’s all they’ve got so they love him here! We had a private room where some Polish legend pianist played for us. The recital was bout an hour long, with a 10 minute intermission. He played magnificently, with no sheet music to guide him and at an intense tempo. I’d never been to a piano recital before, and while I had heard most of the songs he played, I had never been an avid fan of Chopin’s work. But by the end of the “Grande Polonaise” he played to finish the show, I was definitely tearing up. It was magical really, the speed and dexterity with which his fingers moved, for me was incredible, and I have a newfound appreciation for Chopin and piano.
We met up with the remainder of the group who hadn’t gone to the piano recital and made our way to our final farewell dinner all together. Good old lettuce and cucumber salad to start us off once again, but I narrowly avoided the mushroom and vegetable infested potato pancake by going instead for a very nice duck alternative. We finished our lovely meals and returned to the hotel to get changed, ready for a proper Contiki farewell.
First stop was the hotel bar. Joao was driving the next day and therefore could not come out with us, and since a few people were sick or simply not going out, it seemed like a good start. Many of course started with pre-drinks in their rooms, but we had run out of time and contented ourselves with a bar drink to start. We then all took Ubers to town, to a bar called Czupito. I should specify that this is a shot bar, which basically means it had a board with about 50 different shots to order, all priced at 5 Polish Zloty. For conversion purposes, that’s about 1 GBP or roughly 1.50 AUD per shot. Needless to say, we were big fans!
Eventually we moved to the bar next door which had a dance floor, sort of, and seats. While that was well and good, we still did a few runs back and forth to the shot bar because let’s face it, how often do you get so much shot choice at such a low price? Finally, once we were all mostly on our way to getting tipsy (I decided to take it easy having felt so rough on our last big night), Hayley took us to the nightclub across the road. My legs were still absolutely killing me from what I can only assume was a combination of 18 flights of stairs at the bunker, 20 or so hours of driving in very few days and my balancing act dancing on the bar. I had spent the last 2 days needing support to go up or down stairs, and dancing once again was certainly not the easiest thing to do, but I managed!
It was a fantastic final night. We were all on the dance floor making fools of ourselves on Polish music and good old English pop. Around roughly 3:00, we decided it was enough and that it was time to the regular 3am cheeseburger run. We found a McDonald’s nearby and in spite of our tiredness, were able to woof down the food, which at this time of night always feels amazing. We finally headed home, to a wide open balcony door once again, still boiling hot and looking forward to fitting 2 or so hours of sleep before the construction site started up again!
5/8/17 – The Emotional Ending
Sheeana got up early in the morning to finish her packing as she was part of the group carrying on to Berlin with an early start. Most of the others staying in Warsaw joined everyone downstairs at 7:30 regardless to bid farewell to those leaving us. A lot of hugs and tears going around, and seeing some of those new lifelong friendships being broken apart, namely our go-to Cossack dancers Jack and Christian, was very emotional. Hayley gave us the morning joke all together one last time – her traditional start to the morning – and like that they were off.
We re-grouped what was left of us for a leisurely breakfast – waffles!! – and one after the other, everybody left. When I got back to my empty room ready to do my own packing, I definitely felt the emptiness without Sheeana and her stuff there. So I put on some Eminem – her “getting ready” music – which packing just to get over it. Taylah knocked on my door shortly after, making her way to catch a bus to Krakow, and so that was it for our Contiki group.
I packed my suitcase as best as possible considering the half bottle of Beluga vodka we never finished, and the multitude of Russian souvenirs, and then proceeded to watch the Game of Thrones episode I had missed on Monday. With all that out of the way, I checked out and made my way to Lazieki Park, where the Polish/Russian kings had built a summer residence. Most of the artwork here was renaissance mythology based so I was naturally thrilled with it all. A very nice small palace to check out, but the most impressive were the gardens, or rather parkland. The palace is built on a little island in the middle of a beautiful lake, and this is also where the statue of Chopin Olga had shown us the day before is situated.
Once I was through with the palace, I decided to enjoy the peace and calm of the park and stroll around. I blasted some heavy Enya tunes in my earphones to go with the flow, and it was bliss. Eventually I found a quit bench and pulled out my notebook finally ready to write some more stories in an effort to catch up.
Suddenly, as I was engulfed in my own thoughts, I hear someone say “excuse me”, and I look up. In front of me is a tall, handsome Polish man, wearing a mankini body suit, holding an empty beer glass in one hand and a small blow up doll in the other. As I am trying to process the sight that is in front of me, he kneels and with a gorgeous smile asks me if I will marry him. I naturally burst out laughing, and after regaining composure, told him I was flattered but that as I was flying back to London that evening, I just wasn’t ready for a long distance sham marriage. His mates in the background were laughing of course, with one filming the whole thing, so I smiled and wished him a lovely day as he longingly waved goodbye. It is very possible this may have been my soul mate, I guess we’ll never know.
Once my emotions were back in check, I took to walking around some more, attempting to find the exit of the park. I unfortunately found myself in a very residential area, not at all touristic. A friend had told me I needed to try Zurek, a local soup served in bread which I had even seen served on my first night in Poland. And I was eager to try to find one. Unfortunately the first place I tried was a very classy restaurant which told me the oven (?) was not working, and so I would have to come back. The next place was even more expensive and when I asked about the soup, he merely laughed which I took to mean they did not serve this peasant food here.
As I was running out of time, I eventually decided it was time to give up and just accept I would have to come back to Poland to try it. The first decently priced place was an Italian restaurant, so in I went for a spaghetti carbonara. I’m fairly sure the chef had never set foot in Italy, because instead of a creamy sauce, my spaghetti marinated in some sort of brown soup, but it was edible enough.
With that done, I Ubered my way back to the hotel where I met up with Helen and Katherine who were on the same flight as I that night, so we shared a ride to the airport. The driver’s breaks were seriously questionable and I swear we almost died a few times, but somehow we made it in one piece tot eh airport where we found out the flight was delayed about 45 minutes. Oh well, there were pianos everywhere around the airport, so we got to listen to some semi-good pianists attempt some songs – including one who played a Chronologie song by my favourite electronica artist Jean-Michel Jarre, kudos mate that was brilliant.
So here we are now. The plane has just taken off and as I look out the window at the last views of beautiful Poland, I also wave goodbye to the end of an epic adventure. We had mystery – the history of the Romanovs for one. We had magic – stories of Rasputin and enchanting music. And even romance – because if a Polish mankini proposal isn’t romance, I don’t know what is! For now, I leave with the knowledge that I have grown from this incredible journey, and I look forward to some day returning to these magnificent, emotional and eye opening countries soon.
Elodie's Travel Diary 