On the Ground in St. Petersburg

St. Petersburg.

Oh, St. Petersburg.

I had built this city up in mind. I did not want it to suck.

I am so happy to report that it didn't suck.

Pulkovo Airport is a pretty dreary airport. It was nice to be in the same line as Asmus. When we traveled to Rome and returned from European destinations, he goes into the European Union citizens line and I head to the "All Passports" line. It is a bit lonely.

I am a bit ahead of myself. I am an immigrant. For all the conservatives out there, I want you to know that I am a legal immigrant. About two months ago, I noticed that my visa was going to expire in the middle of April. We live mostly in Kiel, so it is difficult to get to the foreigners office in Hamburg.

We don't know much about rules for foreigners but just to be on the safe side, we decided to update the visa.

I am a bit ahead of myself.

We were in Kiel on Friday, April 9. Saturday, April 10, we flew to Munich to visit his aunt Renate. We stayed at our favorite hotel chain the Meridien; Le Méridien München is not as great as its Hamburg cousin. We toured the Paulaner brewery (So far, we have visited Guinness, Carlsberg, Becks, Heinecken (I just visited Holsten last Friday without my beloved.).) We took a bus tour of the city.

We returned to Hamburg on Monday night, April 12. Then we packed and shopped Tuesday and Wednesday. Plus, I worked on my Fodor's chapter about Hamburg. So, we had to fix this visa thing the morning of our flight on Thursday, April 15.

The flight was at 11; the foreigners office opens at 8. It sucked. We got up at the crack of dawn and brought the largest suitcase that Samsonite makes to the foreigners office, because we were going the airport right after the office. Sadly, I had to take a photo. No one should be forced to take a picture at 8 in the morning. I did and I will never forgive the Bundesamtes für Migration und Flüchtlinge (Germany's ofice for Migration and Refugees). We were in and out in 15 minutes. Now I am set for a visa until October 14, 2010. The adventure continues.

So we get to the Hamburg airport and we notice that a flight to Norway was canceled. We wondered why but quickly moved on.

We ate the worst meal in the Goethe cafe in the Frankfurt airport. Skip it if you can. There was some liquid crawling across the floor but no one working there said anything to us when we sat down. We were drinking coffee when we noticed people kneeling around us with towels. They were trying to sneakily mop up the floor. Plus, the snacks were pretty crappy.

We got out of the cafe and into the sky. Easy flight. Even thought it was only a few years old, the St. Petersburg airport was gray and dimly-lit and quiet. It looked like some government office. Not a cool office, like the IRS but the one you go to get a permit to build a high fence.

Asmus and I had a free transfer to the hotel and little instructions on how to get it, despite my questions. We got outside arrivals and searched and searched. I was afraid this was going to happen. Before we left, I asked the hotel lady what is the procedure for transfers. What do we do? Where do we go? She said don't worry and not much else. Just arrive and the driver will be there and she hoped we have a fun vacation. Just as I worried, I had no idea who the driver was and when he is supposed to arrive. We don't speak Russian so we can't walk up to random people ask for help. There was a guy with a 8 x 11 pink piece of paper. I think I saw a bunch of Ms, so I thought he may be the guy. Who has more Ms in their names besides Asmus and me? I pointed and yelled my name a few times and confirmed my suspicions. And we were on our way.

There was a bit of highway out of the airport. I saw this huge Kentucky Fried Chicken nearby and I knew everything was going to be OK. The road up to the airport is littered with car dealerships.

When we got to the city, we took one long, broad road (We later learned that it was Moscow Avenue). Like East Berlin, which was designed by Communism, the city seemed to be all massive buildings that covered one or two blocks. They all had the same look. Tall, wide and beige-ish gray. It was a bit intimidating. You are so small, next to these striking buildings.




We did not notice a street sign but were able to recognize a STOP sign and St. Petersburg in cyrillic. There was a department store and a huge Park Inn hotel near the beginning of the street.




Along the way, our driver, who spoke little English, served as a ghetto tour guide. Right before we reached some landmark, he would point and give the name. We saw a statue of Lenin, a university, and a library. It was a bit ridiculous but so damn exciting.