I'm going to start this post with a clip from Braveheart, a movie about a country a ways away from the one I now find myself in. But this clip is funny and it will makes sense after you read this post...that is, if my writing technique actually works.
But Joey, aren't you living in St. Petersburg? That isn't an island. Is it? Well no, it isn't one island, but rather several. Over the course of 300 years, the city has grown from its original location, stretching onto the islands that have been carved out of the land by the Neva and Nevka rivers. The map below gives you an idea of what we're talking about.
Yes, it's in Russian.
As you gaze upon this wonderful city, you will want to note that it is built not only on some islands, but also on a swamp. Peter the First was quite a visionary. And rather stubborn and strong-headed, but that's another story.
So here we have Saint Petersburg, or Petrodgrad, or Lenningrad, or Piter. Whichever you'd prefer, here they are. In this sprawling metropolis, there are several places that I've discovered to be pretty, comforting, disgusting, and places I visit almost everyday. One of these places encompasses all of the aforementioned adjectives except disgusting. That is Петроградская Сторона (Petrogradskaya Storona). It translates as "The Petrograd Side", meaning that when the city was named Petrograd (early 1900s until it became Lenningrad), this island hosted the growing Russian middle and upper classes and grew during this period. Now, it is home to a large commercial district (Большой Проспект/Bolshoi Prospekt) along which you can find grocery stores, shoes shops, clothing stores, a movie theater, and lots of restaurants and cafés. It is also home to residential neighborhoods that give you an up close and personal look at Piter today. You can also find the famous Peter and Paul Fortress on Petrodgradskaya as well as the Cruiser Aurora which fired the famous blank shot to signal the start of the Bolshevik Revolution.
More importantly for me however, I can find Metro station Sportivnaya and Apartment Building 1/3 on Малый Проспект (Mali Prospekt) and apartment 36. This is home. After being on the "mainland" (where Smolny College is located) for most of the day, its nice to take the metro back to my stop and get off and head to my apartment. I've never lived in a big city before, so I have no experience whatsoever with a public transportation system. But I can tell you that after about 2 weeks being here in Piter, there is nothing like arriving on the metro or pulling onto Bolshoi Prospekt at my stops. I've explored a bit on Petrogradskaya and I know I wasn't born here, nor have I lived here that long, but its a permanent place for me in this city of crazy drivers, constant renovation, and the usual spontaneity of a big city.
Петроградская Сторона - "My Island"
Here are some pics of that lovely apartment I was talking about. There are just a few of my room. Enjoy!
Homebase
A note on Russian windows, they don't have
screens.
What does this mean? You shouldn't leave a window open
if you have animals that like to sit in them.
This didn't happen, it's just a warning. But this is Фрося (Frosiya)!
She keeps me company and apparently doesn't like pictures...
If you would like to see photo albums from my time in Russia, please follow the links to the right under "Facebook Albums." Before you question anything. Read these:
1. You do not need a Facebook account to see these photos.
2. Facebook will not steal anything from your life if you click on these links except for your time. But you're looking at pictures of Russia so its worth it.
3. You should really just learn Russian and come to Russia because these pictures don't do it justice.
I've only been to three foreign countries so far; Canada, Finland (I was there for about an hour, so I'm counting it), and Russia. From there experiences, I can compare entering a foreign country to entering the house of anyone you don't know really well or at all. You arrive at their address, look around and record what you see. Most of us judge what we see immediately and begin to assume that the outside is a foreshadowing of what is to be found once we cross through the front door. So here is my tale of "pulling into Russia's driveway."
I'm cruising down Baltic Avenue in a very stylish, neat Finnish airplane:
My ride.
To my left is Finland, very nice place. Very clean and quiet. To my right are Estonia and Latvia. I don't know them very well, but they look cool from the street. Then I come up to Russia's address. It's wet, looks like they were just watering the lawn. And there are several cars parked outside, old and new. I pull into the drive way, a big sign reads: Добро пожалавать в Россию! (Welcome to Russia!). That's nice, I think. I gather my things and check my papers (I've been told that Russia likes to make sure all of her guests are there for good reasons). I open my door and step outside. I can see a bit clearer now, after leaving the fogged up, wet windows of my car. I notice a strange dichotomy in Russia's front yard. There are old sculptures, magnificently built, but alongside them are also more modern pieces.
If you missed the metaphor, this is the "old" sculpture...
And here's the "new" one.
It strikes me as odd, but I continue forward. Their sprinkler system just activated itself again. I step up to the front door. There is a small window to my left that reads Паспортный Контроль (Passport Control). I present my documents and an officer looks them over and lets me in. Russia is very precise about her security. The door opens in front of me and I walk in...
The very first thing I noticed about Russia was the smell. As soon as we stepped off the airplane, the smell of cigarettes hit my nose quicker than I could say Россия (Rossiya/Russia). My American nose was stunned for a few minutes and I had to resist the urge to grimace. But there was something going on that trumped all the smell of cigarettes; the language. Everyone was speaking Russian and all the signs were Russian! YES! I am finally in Russia. In addition to the smell, high heels were another image that struck me immediately about Russia. All the women (well, it seemed like all of them) were wearing heels. And were not talking one size of heels or the same style, I saw every kind of heel imaginable, color, style, size, etc. And this is just the airport! Even some of the women immigration officers and полиция (politsiya/police) had heels. Now I've worn and walked in heels before.
To add to the humor, this is a school
sponsored activity.
Exhibit A:
Exhibit B:
One word: Ouch
They aren't fun to walk in. In fact, it hurts, a lot. Regardless, Russian women (not all of them again, but a lot of them) wear heels all the time. Even in winter apparently, but I haven't experienced winter in Russia yet, so I'll get back to you on that. Enough with the heels.
After the incident at passport control (see previous post), I met up with the rest of the group (who were wonderful and got my luggage while I was changing from a women to a man). We left security and passed through customs (only one person had something to declare so that part went very quickly, ура!) into the main airport. I was surprised at how small the airport is. We came into Пулково 2 (Polkova Dva). There is a Пулково 1 but I'm not sure how big that is. Пулково 2 though was small considering its the airport for St. Petersburg. I just Googled it and it is a bit larger than I the part was in, but still, not that big. Google it yourself and check out the pictures. We waited in the main area of the airport for a bit and met with one of the program assistants who organizes our group activities and host family arrangements. She's Russian, so she was the first Russian I've met in Russia. We then made our way outside where it was raining. Luckily, a bus would soon pick us up. While some may think, its too bad it was raining when we got to Russia, I think it was good. It set the mood for our stay here. The bus arrived and we made our way into the city with a short land mark tour along the way.
As I mentioned in the driveway metaphor, Russia's (specifically St. Petersburg and I would venture to say the bigger cities in general) landscape is a mix of buildings that were built sometime between the city's founding and today and every year in between. The mixture is very telling of the struggle present throughout Russia's history and present between the old and the new. As we left the airport and made our way onto the highway into the city, the struggle became more and more evident. Large department stores were everywhere. Ikea, chains from Finland, a Russian home depot equivalent, and some big Russian stores. The industrial outskirts of Soviet times are nearby, but not certainly like they were. The roads are dirty and the smell of exhaust is everywhere. Cars are nearly flying down the highway and roads, its a miracle there aren't any crashes. Our driver knows what he is doing and maneuvers this maelstrom of metal and gas. It's wet everywhere. Buildings that have stood for hundreds of years through wind, rain, snow, and war look worn and many are under restoration. Soviet monuments stand as they have since they were built, reminding the people around them of past deeds and promising a bright future.
People are everywhere, coming in and out of shops, dashing across the street before a car or truck goes whizzing by, a breath away from the pedestrian. I'll talk more about Russian driving in a later post because truthfully, it deserves its own post. But my first impressions of it were "Wow, this is nuts." Not much has changed, but I understand it a bit better now. We didn't die on the bus, so that's what counts.
I was thankful for the bit of sleep I had gotten on the plane, because I was not drooping on the bus. That is not to say that I was completely cognizant. I was still running on little sleep, staring at Cyrillic letters, recovering from being labeled as a woman (ok, maybe it wasn't the tramatizing), and attempting to believe that I was in freakin' Russia at the moment and not just dreaming. These streets and buildings were places I had only up until now read about and seen in pictures. Now, I was here. Lenin's statues were just outside the bus window, the Moika was under us as we crossed a bridge, and we just turned onto Nevsky Prospect. Is this real? Yes. It is.
As we head to our hotel, a realization comes to me, Russia is not glamorous. I don't know if I expected it to be or not, but that is the impression I am getting more and more. They say St. Petersburg is a beautiful city and it is. The canals and bridges and rivers, the buildings, and the people all make this city what it is. No one can deny that Спас на Крови (Spas na Kravi/Church on the Spilled Blood) or Исаакиевский Собор (Isaakievskii Sobor/St. Isaac's Cathedral) are nothing but pure beauty. Yet they do not make Piter or Russia glorious. It's the people that do. The people are (for me at least, you are welcome to disagree) the ingredient that I have loved so far. When we got to the hotel and had some time free from other obligations, I just walked up and down the streets. Hearing Russian being spoken freely and as if nothing was out of the ordinary (for indeed, we're in Russia, so of course speaking Russian isn't unusual!). And going into stores and being able to use words that I've only really used in exams. Отлично и прикрасно!
At this point, its only natural that I describe some Russian mannerisms. You may or may not have heard the rumor that Russians do not smile. Well, it is only a partial rumor because they do in fact smile, just not in the same places that Americans do. I should also preface this that I've only really been on the streets of one major U.S. city and that's Chicago. So my experience with American urban centers is very limited. For those of you familiar with the east coast, this may not seem out of the ordinary. Back to Russia. I've only been here for five days, but from what I've observed, if a Russian is smiling on the street, it is not for the rest of the pedestrians around him/her. It is for the person they are with or talking to on the phone. This should not be taken as Russians being grumpy towards the rest of society. They are simply using their emotions on people who they trust to care about them. That is my theory on Russian emotions, you will know them if they know you care about them. I guess I should add that this applies mainly to happy emotions. If a store clerk is tired and a bit grumpy, you will notice. Especially if you don't understand the ruble system (Yep, I'm referring to myself right now...). But Russians are very friendly people and hospitable. Once you are a guest in a Russian's home, be ready to be stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey. Cause that's what's going to happen. And if you stay for awhile, it's going to happen at every meal. That's a fact.
I'll share a bit later about our hotel that we stayed at for a few days before heading to our semester housing. I mentioned earlier that my nose was hit with the smell of cigarettes head on when stepping off the plane. Well, that didn't change much once we got into the city. Granted, there is a lot of stuff to cover up the smell of people smoking (курить "kuureet") but don't be surprised to see lots of people smoking, even on-duty police officers. And at the restaurants I've been to so far, the whole place is a smoking section. But after awhile, you get used to it. Эта Россия. After walking around on the streets for a bit, I came back to the hotel and as I climbed the stairs, the whiff of smoking came to my nose and I smiled a bit. Welcome to Russia.
A Russian stop sign. It works. Most of the time...
To sum it all up, my lesson so far has been to not judge Russia by its cover. As cheesy at it sounds, its true. A Russian's soul is not on the outside of him/her, its inside. And the best part of a building is not the crumbling exterior, but cozy room inside, the comfy bed, the table full of food, and friendly smiles and conversations.
That's Russia.
A shot from our hotel towards Nevsky Prospekt
Казанский Собор. Kazanskii Cathedral on Nevsky Prospekt
Tradition has it that Heaven's entrance is signaled by the Pearly Gates while the United State's iconic Statue of Liberty has always been a representative of coming into the country. Well, Russia doesn't have either of those. Instead, it has Паспортный Контроль (Passportnii Kontroll) or Passport Control. Anybody entering Russia (Okay, I should preface this with saying that I am speaking from the viewpoint of entering the country via an airport; not by train, car, or foot) must pass through Passport Control in order for their migration card (as pictured in the previous post) to be stamped. Without it getting stamped, you cannot legally be in Russia, because no one knows you are there. Regardless of the fact of whether or not you have a visa from the Russian government, all foreign nationals traveling on some sort of visa must have a migration card. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
So here we are. Coming off the plane. I am in Russia and I can't believe it. We've been briefed about the proper procedure to pass through Паспортний Контроль and we have our migration cards and passports. Everything is set. There are five lines for foreign nationals and another line for carriers of Russian passports of nationals of countries who are in an economic union with Russia. That one involves walking straight through with little difficulty. But our line is a bit different. I wait, three people in front of me (which is really good. We came in at a great time to breeze through the lines), two people, one person, then its me waiting at a yellow line. I can feel myself getting a bit giddy and I suppress it to refrain from bursting out laughing/giggling/smiling or all of the above while the immigration officer is looking over my passport, visa, and migration card. Then it's my turn. I had noticed while standing in line that the officer looking over documents in the line to my right was taking a while with some people. I hoped it was just for show. I step forward and enter a boxed in area big enough for three people abreast and quite tall. There is a window with the immigration officer in it. I pass my passport and documents through like I'm buying a movie ticket. Except this is the ultimate movie ticket; front row seats to watch and participate in a country, language, and culture I've been studying for a long time. Again, I suppress a smile. No words are spoken as he reviews my documents. It seems like he's checking a computer. He looks at me and my documents, then repeats this again. Eventually, he looks up and speaks to me:
"Вы говорите по-русский?"/"Do you speak Russian?"
"Да, чу-чу."/"Yes, a little" I responded.
He then proceeded to tell me that my visa had me listed as a женщина (zhenshina) or "woman." I am a мужчина (myzhchina), a "man." He laughed and I laughed with him. Then he told me I had to go to the the Consulate post on the 2nd floor near where I came into the airport. At this point, I couldn't help but let a smile creep onto my face. This is just too funny, I thought.
So I headed to this place:
As it usually goes in Russia, a very small, but very
important place.
I met up with my program director and told him what happened. Then he took care of everything. We talked with the people in the post and they approved a new visa (with a laugh at the situation) which was issued to me on the spot. I filled out a new migration card and once again stood in line. This time, I came through with a bit more confidence. They officer looked over my papers (a bit longer than last time and I got a bit worried) and eventually stamped them and handed them to me. I then crossed over the threshold that brought me officially into the Russian federation. Oh yeah, we are doing this!
This story is too funny to be crowded into my first impressions of the Russia, so I will be posting another blog soon with those stories/details.
Okay, so I left you last time in Rhinebeck, NY, a sleeping town in the Catskills. A lot has happened since. I am going to skip a few days (August 14th-15th) because there wasn't too much excitement there. We had a pre-departure orientation which answered a lot of my questions about traveling to Russia, but it also made me super impatient and I couldn't wait to actually be on my way. Here are some pics of that time!
My home for two nights.
Yes, that says H. Potter....hmmmm....
Great! Now that you're up to speed...
Wednesday, August 16th.
7:15 AM: Alarm goes off. I was disgruntled at first, but then I suddenly remembered what today was (Thankfully! That would've been THE worst time to sleep in!). I'm going to Russia today! :)
7:17 AM: I actually got up, realizing that going to Russia involved more than just being awake and remembering to go to Russia, though those are crucial first steps.
7:52 AM: Headed to breakfast, singing the 1st verse of the Russian National anthem and the old Russian song, Katyusha. And while we have time, you should listen to them as well!
Wonderful songs! Ok. For breakfast, I had coldish pancakes and eggs. Not so wonderful, but hey, its food.
10:07 AM: After doing some packing and milling about, I made my last FB status in the U.S. I weighed my luggage: 40lbs. On Friday, it was 50lbs. Oh yeah.
The evidence. Discovering I could take on a
personal bag was equivalent to the discovery
of fire.
10:25 AM: I'm ready to go. Гатов. The bus leaves arrives at 11:15 AM.
11:15 AM: Got my passport back (it had been with Bard-Smolny since June) with a visa in it! Also got some other things to enjoy (insurance info, photocopies, etc.) Ура!
11:37 AM: The bus departs. Пока Бард! Bye Bard, it was a nice stay. We were passed out lunch. I was hungry! This is my last meal in the U.S. Observe:
A good meal to leave the country on.
Everyone else is enjoying the lunch. The bus is cold and everyone is quiet; "In their zones." It's fitting, as we prepare to begin our adventure in earnest.
Lunch was good, now, we wait for New York City.
12:04 PM: Okay, we're 90 miles from NYC. I say we get there in 1 hour and 35 minutes. Place your bets!
1:41 PM: Probably the 2nd most exciting thing of the day (besides going to Russia). Our bus is cruising along (mind you, this is a charter bus) and is approaching a toll booth. Not a problem. Except when you take the bus into the cash lane that is meant for cars and when we were planning on using the "Fast Pass" lane in the first place. So yeah, we're stuck. The sign next to us reads, "Do not back-up." Not that we can with all the traffic behind us. So our driver faces a choice: 1. Call for help. 2. Back-up and hope they get outta the way. 3. Jump the curb.
We jumped the curb. On the way, we scraped the side of the bus (I did't see it afterwards, but it sounded really bad!) and got the bus on the curb and over the curb. Very freaky. Had the image that the bus would flip over. Thankfully it didn't. That would've put us behind...Awesome. Where were we? Oh yeah, going to JFK.
1:50 PM: We are on the Van Wyck expressway. This is insignificant besides the fact that when I saw we were on this road, I immediately thought of the Seinfeld episode when Elaine comes in Jerry's apartment after attempting to get a guy she was dating and really hated back to Seattle. The audio for the clip is at right.
1:56 PM: In traffic. There is someone reading a newspaper while driving (well, rather they are reading newspaper while looking up when the car in front of them as moved ahead 5 feet). Famous New York traffic.
We arrived at the airport. I don't remember when, but we got through security quickly and had about an hour before boarding began.
This airport as a matter of fact.
4:55 PM: We are on the plane (FinnAir flight). There is no turning back now. We're going to Russia (well, eventually, so maybe there is a bit of chance to turn back. But I'm not).
A bit of the inside of our plane.
5:45 PM: We have left NYC!
We flew high (Yes, obvious) and eventually entered Canadian airspace. Cheers USA! Our route is northeast across New Foundland to the southern tip of Greenland, then east to Iceland and across Norway and Sweden to Helsinki.
Some point on the plane: I have no idea what time it is. But we just had dinner and it was delicious! BBQ chicken with green beans, a dinner roll, cheese, and desert bar. Yum!
Some other point on the plane: Had been reading for a bit. Time to sleep.
I would like to thank this pillow. Without which, I wouldn't
have slept as well or as long.
11 something New York time, maybe 6:00 AM my time: Woke up. Lots of other people are up. The sun is also up and is rather bright. I feel pretty good. Happy for sleep. We eventually got breakfast. I had orange juice and a ham and swiss sandwich. Wonderful to have in the morning.
They then handed us a hot/moist toilette. At first I looked and it and wondered what they wanted me to do with it. My hands weren't sticky or anything and the plane was rather warm. Those crazy Finns. I almost through it away. Then I realized that the man to my left was using it to wipe his face. I did the same and I immediately retracted all the previous thoughts I had about this toilette. It was wonderful.
12:35 AM New York time/7:35 AM Helsinki time: We are currently over Sweden. We have 54 minutes until touchdown.
8:15 AM Helsinki time: We are in Helsinki! First time in Finland/overseas! Technically, you could argue that we weren't in Finland because we didn't not pass through security and the Finns did not welcome us into their country. But I'm not being technical. Here's the airport:
A small airport and very quiet.
I enjoyed our brief stay in Helsinki. It was a nice breather before the final leg of our journey to St. Petersburg. I had 2nd breakfast: A Finish pastry and a bottle of a carbonated orange beverage. Very delicious. Had a small panic attack while I was paying for breakfast. I realized that I was no longer in place where I could use American money. I also realized that even if they did miraculously accept American bills, I was in the Eurozone, which meant my five dollars wasn't going to cover my 6 Euro breakfast...thank goodness for debit cards. Except that didn't work for the first couple of swipes, giving me another panic that my bank did not want me to use my card in Finland. Third time is a charm. Got my breakfast.
Around 9:30, we set off for St. Petersburg. It's getting real. As we boarded the plane, we were handed our migration card; a small piece/flimsy piece of paper without which you don't exist in the Russian Federation. No pressure.
Here it is. The theme of Russian documents: Small = important.
We set off from Helsinki and made our way to Russia. There is officially no turning back now. And that thought doesn't even cross my mind.
The flight is about an hours so we'll be in Russia really...Wow! What is that?!
Is that really? I can't make it out...
It is!
Now Joey, don't you do it!
"I can see Russia from my plane!!"
I apologize for that. But yes, this is Russia!!!!!
We made it!! (Well, we haven't landed yet...)
Now we have. Ladies and gentlemen, we ain't in Kansas anymore. We're in Russia.
I made it, safe and sound! Or did I? Stay tuned for......
JOEY'S ADVENTURES AT PASSPORT CONTROL (ПАСПОРТНИЙ КОНТРОЛь!)!!!
To say that my journey started on August 12th, 2011 would be to discard all my previous preparations for this trip and my studies that have prepared for a year in St. Petersburg. This is a story that I began writing a long time ago. We pick up this story on August 11th, 2011 at 11:00 PM where we find a young man staring blankly at a suitcase....
The black suitcase to be exact...and the brown book bag.
11:00 PM: I could stare at this suitcase all night and three things would happen: 1. I would not get any sleep and therefore feel miserable all day tomorrow. 2. My parents would be upset that I had stayed up all night and not gotten anything done. 3. My luggage would still be laying outside of my suitcase and not inside it where the gods of the airlines prefer their subjects to place their precious cargo. So I decide to repack my bag for the 3rd time today. Turns out a simple formula: Big computer + lots of books = they are buggers to pack without going over the weight limit (which in this case in 50lbs for checked luggage). But how can I say no? When I got the computer, it seemed nice; a big screen for movies and a keypad for all the accents in French (very handy), but right now, as I'm testing the weight of my carry-on, I wouldn't mind sacrificing all those things for a handy little netbook. Whoops, I'll put that on the 'Future Reference' list. As for the books, well, let's just say I'd rather pack clothes for one day rather than leaving any of my books behind (okay, maybe that's a bit extreme, but it gets the point across). I haven't brought nearly all the books I could have brought, just the important ones: My Pushkin, Tolstoy, Chekov, Lermontov, and Gogol, they will be my companions on this trip for they lived in the same city I will be living in and wrote about her streets and people. Sorry Dostoevsky, I didn't really care for the Idiot, so that's staying at home. This brings me to the next milestone...
11:13 PM: I'm staring at my books now that I've been thinking of them, contemplating all the things I could leave out of my suitcase to bring them with me. Throughout the day, my parents offered to send my books in the mail so I wouldn't have to worry about them. But I refuse; that's cheating. I have my limit and I'm sticking to it. I've already decided on things I can buy in Russia and I don't mind pulling a few more things out. My mind then wanders to thoughts about the things I will want to bring back from Russia...We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
11:55 PM: Yes, I did just spend 40 minutes thinking about all this. But after all that thinking I've decided on a radical plan: Go back to the original luggage configuration. A sore back for good books, that's okay. Let's do this. I pack everything in and tighten the straps, test my back-pack on my back (heavy, but not bad). I weigh everything.
12:12 AM: Good enough; it's time for bed.
12:12 AM-6:15 AM: Zzzzzzzzzzz.......
6:15 AM: There's that alarm....Uffdah. Why is it going off this early? Oh wait...(I forgot in the early moments of waking up that today was a rather important day, then I remembered). 12:12 AM wasn't that long ago, oh well.
6:15 AM-7:36 AM: Showered, dressed...finished last minute packing. There's quite a bit more last minute packing than I thought....But it all got done. We pack up the car and I ponder how this is the lightest I've traveled in a while (long distance/long stay travel); two bags. I'm proud of that!
7:36 AM: Morning is breaking, the air is cool, and the town is quiet. We slip out of Washington without fanfare and without anyone noticing. We're on our way down the road, I stare out at the corn fields I've grown up with, the vast fields of corn and soybeans, tractors, cows, and farms, small towns, and bumpy roads. This is where it all began. I carry some dirt from Washington, Illinois with me whenever I make a big move like this to remember where I came from. Whether I'm in St. Peter, Minnesota or St. Petersburg, Russia, I started in Washington, Illinois. So I stare out the car window as we breeze past this land with which I've grown so familiar. We drive to the Busy Corner, a restaurant that once sat on a corner in Goodfield, Illinois, but has since outgrown its old environs and sits next to the road. The food is still good though and we sit down for breakfast. I have biscuits and gravy, possibly the last biscuits and gravy I will have in quiet some time. They were delicious. After we finish breakfast, its on to Normal, Illinois and the train station. I take the traditional nap in the car.
9:03 AM: We arrive at the train station in Normal, Illinois; our train is schedule to come in at 11:00 AM. Ура! There are lots of people looking for parking spots; everywhere we turn, a lot is full or when we find empty spots, there's a sign reading: "Not for Amtrak Users." Wonderful. A train pulls in and my mom and I get out to try our luck at snagging a spot from one of the passengers debarking from the train. Unfortunately, there are vultures already waiting. Two cars, poised to take a spot being vacated by an exiting van. It looks like it could get ugly. I leave. We decide to drop our baggage off and we surrender our car to a parking deck. It's a beautiful day! Wonderful weather outside to sit and wait for a train and that's what we did...
The Beast
11:50 AM: Our 11:08 train just got in, so we're boarded and heading off to Chicago! (Cue Sinatra). I love the train so much, its relaxing, you can read, chat on the phone, watch a movie on your laptop, listen to music, sleep, chat with people around you, or walk up and down the train cars. And not have to worry about anything! I watched a TV show on my computer and enjoyed the ride up.
1:51 PM: Overheard some great travel advice from a chap sitting across the aisle from me. He was chatting with someone on the phone about his connecting train in Chicago and he said, if you're late, the rest of the world don't give a damn, so just get someplace when you can and make up the connection as soon as possible. That's some good advice there; just enjoying the moment and if something out of your control happens where you miss a connecting flight or train or bus or something, just find the next one. I don't know, thought it was good. Then again, the way he said it was funny so maybe that's why.
If you look really closely you may be able to see us.
2:22 PM: He were are! Union Station, Chicago, Illinois. Got a taste of what to expect when doing serious travelling. Hesitation is not allowed. It is imperative to make a decision when coming off of the train or plane as to what direction you need to be headed in. There are too many people staring blankly at signs and wandering in every direction to risk standing and trying to figure out where to go. Pick a direction, follow the signs, use your common sense, and bam, you'll get where you need to go. It also didn't matter for us because we don't have anywhere to go until 9:00 PM (our train to New York). Oh boy.
4:00 PM-5:00 PM: After lunch and reading a bit, I attempted a nap on one of Union Station's famous benches. These aren't just any plan bench. This isn't a church pew or a park bench you can sit on and may be cracked from people using it so much; these benches are built to last. They are thick and tall. If a roof was collapsing, you would find me under one of these if they were near-by. And they are surprisingly comfortable. I sit and think about all the people that have come before me to find some rest on this bench...there must of been a lot of 'em....I doze off.
5:00 PM: My nap was moderately successful, I got very warm for some reason and woke up sweating a bit. Not much else to report.
I'd write the same caption as the last one, but I'd feel bad.
You can't actually see us in either photo. ;)
9:35 PM: Finally boarded our train to New York. Departed by 9:50 PM. I sat with a guy named Jordan. Cool guy. We left in the dark, so there wasn't much to see. A bit of a bummer, but then again, I didn't have the window seat/we went through Indiana and Ohio, so I don't know if I missed much. I decided to take part in one of my favorite traveling activities: Setting up a long playlist and falling sleep to it. Exciting right? Actually no, but I like it for a couple of reasons. First off, it's nice to listen to songs in my library that I haven't listened to in a long time. And second, its just very calming to fall asleep in the middle of a song and wake up in the middle of another one (especially if said song is epic; i.e. Star Wars, Indiana Jones, etc.). So I set up a three hour playlist, plugged in, and closed my eyes. I wish I could say I slept well, but that would be a blatant lie. I slept a bit, but it was off and on. I woke up around 3 AM and contemplated staying up, but fell back alseep and woke up at...
5:45 AM: Awake and decided to stay awake. It's too difficult to get comfortable for sleeping/I didn't bring a blanket (future reference for train travelling). I just stared around and leaned back. Listened to a bit more music. Then we decided to get breakfast.
6:30 AM: Breakfast. Very simple, enough. Plastic ware. Classy stuff on Amtrak.
7:37 AM: Just left Eire, PA; six more stops!
8:00 AM: You hear about getting a '2nd Wind' of energy. Well right now, I'm getting my 'Anti-2nd Wind' or 'De-2nd Wind.' Regardless, I'm exhausted.
10:26 AM: Solution to difficulty getting sleep on train: Just wait until you are very exhausted, then you will sleep a lot better! Oh yeah. It worked for me. I feel better. But I did wake up to the Border Patrol coming through the car asking everyone whether or not they are American citizens. They were nice about it, but I wonder what would happen if you said no....Luckily, I wasn't responded automatically in Russian and I did not say "Da." That would've been funny, but also needlessly time consuming. Perhaps I'll try that later....or not. But now we're rolling along nicely, well on our way to Albany....
But we saw Albany.
1:26 PM: Or not. Something is broken on the track, so we wait...for about an hour. Then we continue onto Albany and waited some more. We had missed our connecting train to Rhinecliff, so we stayed on our current train which took us there.
Very 1920s esque. I like it alot!
7:30 PM: We arrive in Rhinecliff, New York and grab a taxi for the Beekman Arms Inn in Rhinebeck, New York. A very pretty area up here. Simply gorgeous. The Beekman Arms is the "Oldest Hotel in America" supposedly. I won't argue with 'em. It's nice, very nice. We have dinner and walk around town, very pretty. Then we head back to our room.
Very 1770s esque. Even better!
9:45 PM: It's quiet and peaceful. Very nice after a busy travel day. Tomorrow the adventure continues, but every good adventurer needs some sleep.
