Turns out, there was a plan D after all. It entailed catching a bus thursday afternoon to...drum roll please...Latvia.
Turns out, Russian bus experiences are slightly less cumbersome and deathly then Russian train experiences. Slightly. But there is definitly nothing else to get your adreniline pumping quite like hitting a major security national border at 3 AM in the snow, after sitting on a bus for 5 some hours cat napping (i use the term loosly), and having to fite to the death with the oh so pleased with themselves Russian border patrol for the priveledge of keeping one's registration documents. I fear only those of you living in semi-government controlled nations presently will understand the terror of documents. Basically, this happy little slip of paper says I am legally a resident of St. Petersburg, Russia. Visa counts for nothing with out it. I have already lost this battle once, when I unknowingly gave up my migration card in Moscow coming back from Prague last month, and only by some quirk of fate did I manage to get reregistered and get my passport back in time to leave the country to go home. And yea, what do I do, I flee the country again but fuck it, why the hell not. No idea what I said to these women, I know it involved some rugatelstvo, and appealing to their rational sides, but yea. Definitly did not calm down after that one till just about the time we hit Riga this morning.
Riga...well, is nice I'm sure. But really, its a break from Russia. Rachel and I did actually wander around old town this morning, and then hit the national premiere of Harry Potter, (coincidence, I promise.) and gorged at a western grocery store on vegetables and other such happiness as Nutella and Peanut butter, took real showers, and well, yea...otdijaem.
Might even head back to Petersburg tommorow night. If you're good...
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1 comment:
im jealous :(
enjoy it all for me
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