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In August 2009 I decided to go to Russia with a brother who turned out to be the epitome of the wrong traveling companion. Of course, I am speaking for myself.
We went as a group, for a week with agency; the sub-destinations were.
- Saint Petersburg
- the golden ring
- Moscow
When I bought a house, applying for a mortgage, I paid for it myself, but I didn’t do well with the extra expenses.
A fair amount was missing, which I asked one of my brothers for. I gave it all back to him in a little year, with interest, and also wanted to give him a trip.
For several years we had had almost no dialogue, and it seemed like a good opportunity to strengthen the relationship. It came to me to do it with the most stimulating experience possible and that was with a trip. But that is not the case for everyone, quite the contrary.
For some people, traveling is not that important, and there are some people who keep thinking about their own stuff all the time, so much so that they don’t even notice what’s around them.
If they are at home, in Paris or on top of Everest and you point out to them:
Look at that Yeti is wearing a Coco Chanel shirt!
They, for example will keep telling you for the umpteenth time about a certain work episode, and maybe to give you some satisfaction they will add:
Ah yes, my colleague also had a shirt that time.
In St. Petersburg the one who doesn’t mind so much where he goes
St. Petersburg is a beautiful city, and in late summer it gives the best for very long days. Beyond the Hermitage (a marvel even just as a building in itself, as well as for the works of art it contains), there are many worthy places.
I also particularly liked the palace of Peter the Great. It is located outside the city, and has a park full of golden statues.
I was struck by certain allusions of the guide, about the new czar, Putin. He told us that journalists or in general those who thought differently from the regime were already having a pretty bad time. Then and still for a very long time, we in the West did not understand the situation at all.
During communism, there was always a spy in the midst of the few groups of Western tourists to check that the real situation was not spoken too truthfully and that guests were given a clear picture of reality. In some respects things were slowly returning to the way they were before Gorbachev.
We also took a tour around the river and canals with a stop onZayachy Island as well. There were several newlywed couples taking photos, and then rode around the city in very long limousines.
Wrong travel companion, the one who takes it easy in the morning
Compared to my usual I purposely chose to participate in a classic organized trip with a group. That way I would not have to spur my relative on.
I like to do as I please (I have energy to see a lot), but I don’t like having to tell others what to do (at least on vacation).
Thanks to this choice, the trip went well and we saw very beautiful places. But on the day we were to tour the monasteries we seriously risked spending the day in the hotel. We did not wake up. But despite his habit of taking things very slowly in the morning, we managed to join our companions as the bus was leaving.
You cannot say that you have visited a country if you have not taken at least a look at the periphery. This is even more true in a country the size of Russia. On a future trip, I would like to go deep into the geographic heartland, all the way to the Asian side, perhaps on the world-famous Orient Express.
The train ride between St. Petersburg and Moscow was interesting. We passed through endless forests and with carriages full of rowdy military, particularly navy with their distinctive blue and white striped shirts.
The Golden Ring is a tour of ancient Russian cities northeast of Moscow. 2 days of monasteries, basilicas and buildings still made of wood. At the start I did not give much weight to this part of the trip. Instead it fit perfectly, even as an alternation to the 2 metropolises.
In Moscow, the wrong tobacco companion is at his best
For true tobacco addicts, living a day is nothing more than a way to fill the time between cigarettes. This is a problem if you have a hotel room on the 40th floor (in Moscow) and each cigarette involves at least ten minutes to go down, out, and back up.
The problem becomes huge if the smoker also falls into the category of those who have to follow their whole ritual in the morning, such as: wake up, cigarette, breakfast, cigarette, bath, cigarette, shower, cigarette, get dressed.
I vividly remember the impact on me of seeing Red Square for the first time. We were lucky enough to get there that it was already night. You can never say dark because the electricity around there is literally wasted, costing them little and nothing. I really exclaimed Uaho!
Stepping out of the metro right into the immense square, we faced the fairy-tale St. Basil’s, to the right the Kremlin with the perennial line for Stalin’s mausoleum in front of it, and to the left the now glitzy GUM department store, once gaunt and a symbol of the stunted communist economy.
Overall, the square is wonderful and undoubtedly the reason it makes sense to go to Moscow. But (while mostly inside the Kremlin is also interesting) St. Basil’s trumps all.
The fact that Stalin wanted to raze it to the ground to give easier maneuvering for military parades says everything about the Soviet regime.
Going to Russia, between watches and columbos
Certain subway stops are very beautiful, interesting also because they were a propaganda tool of the regime. Otherwise, the city is nothing special, and the big Soviet buildings especially put a sadness on people.
My mistaken companion and I were walking alone to get a distant view of the grim KGB building. By the side of a lamppost we spotted a bag of watches. We surreptitiously put them in our pockets and somewhat playfully began to fantasize that we would be tracked down by some Russian Mafia goons, that they were of great value and by selling them we would become rich.
A watchmaker in Italy cruelly took us apart. They should still be in a drawer along with the Mulino Bianco gum collection and the soccer cards from the ’82 World Cup.
I was engaged at the time, and as a joking reward for leaving without her, she asked me for a colbac as a gift.
It seemed like a good idea until I saw them up close and picked them up. I decided he would not like the idea of putting what looks like a dead cat on his head. It is a piece of clothing that is much nicer to see on someone else’s head from a distance!
Trips taken, travel stories divided by continent
Anecdotes, divided by type in travel narratives
Countries visited in my travel stories
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