Yesterday everything finally went according to plan and this morning almost everything did too. But first I have to mention myroom in the hostel, because it was the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced in a hostel. The staff in the place was great. Very helpful and nice. But nobody in the room spoke to each other. I don’t mean that I wanted a deep conversation with anyone, but these people had trouble even saying hello when I greeted them upon entering. That is certainly preferable to sharing a room with a noisy school class that stays up all night. It was only that it was the first time every I encounter total silence in a hostel. It was a pleasant change.
So, now for my good day yesterday. Up early, down to the Ermitage and get in line an hour early. I read and talked with some of the people. Ate a banana and cookies. The gates open to get in line for the ticket office and the ticket online terminals at time. I’m the first one at my terminal! It doesn’t activities until 10:30! I guarded hat sucker with my life. Meanwhile, a million people come by and ask if there’s an advantage to buying tickets at the terminal. I get to tell them my sad story from yesterday. They even understand me. At 10:30 the terminal switches in, I put in my credit card and.....it’s reject. Again. Rejected. Crap! I was glad I had enough cash in my wallet. It worked! I got a ticket and got to skip right past the line into the museum. That as neat. I spent 3 hours walking around and lookin* at all the art and historical treasures. I was so glad I made it in.
By 2 o’clock I’d had enough and left. I went into the park and had a hot dog before I walked across the river to Peter-Paul Fortress. First I walked down to the beach on the rive4vin front of the fortress and then memories of 52 years ago came flooding back. I can remember being her with my study group, I can remember the faces and the conversations. This was the only time that I actually remember that I was there. What a feeling that was.
I walked around inside the first rtress for awhile after that, but then it was just too much and I caught the bus home. The day had been cold, but not rainy and I did a lot of walking. When I got off at m bus stop I realize I needed some cash for the taxi tomorrow and wanted to go to the ATM at the train station . The only problem is, you have to walk the entire way around the traffic circle to get to it.
You can’t cross the road on this side of the street to get to it. Screw that. I’ll go later.
I stopped at at Subway sandwich shop (Yes. THAT subway!) right next to the hostel and got a take out sandwich to eat in the room. Fortified and rested, I put my shoes and coat back on and went to he train station. It turned out to be a pleasant walk. There were a gazillion people there but it had an excited and exciting atmosphere about it. I asked a security guy for directions to my bank’s ATM and even understood his directions. So I got enough cash to make my trip back manageable, went back and settled in for the night.
By this time, a noisy family had moved into the room next door and was making a lot of noise in the hallways. And the little girl was freaking out because I was using an electric toothbrush at the communal sinks.
I set my alarm to make sure I woke up before 8, but didn’t need it. I was up, ready and had the bed torn down a little after 8 and was on my way. The game plan was to grab a coffee to go at Burger King and get in line for the Faberge Museum, which was just down the street.
When I got to the top of the street where the museum is, I saw that a line of about 30 people had already formed. Oh, crap again. But when I got to the door, it had miraculously disappeared. The doors opened at exactly 9:30 to let people into the ticket counters.
Not only did they have an exhibit of the exquisite Easter Eggs that Faberge made for the czar every year, there were tons of silver settings that belonged to various czars and aristocrats. It’s beautiful, but who really needs it. There was also a visiting exhibit of Frida Kahl land Diego Rivera works.
When I got done there, I walked down the street to the Russian Museum just to take a quick look at paintings by one of my favorite Russian painters. Unfortunately, the lady at information told me most of them were on loan to museums in Moscow.
So, change of plans. I only had about an hour so I ran around the corner to St. Michael’s Castle and looked at some paintings of the early czars. Boy, these guys just had too much money and flaunted it. It doesn’t surprise me at all that the Russian revolution took place.
So, I start walking back to the hostel to pick up my suitcase and hop on the subway to get to the bus that takes you to the airport, when I suddenly remember that they didn5 give me my registration yet! Every time I leave Kazan, I have to be registered by the police in the new city. Oh Lordy, how could I have forgotten to pick it up when I left my suitcase at the desk?! I was almost panicking when I rang the doorbell to get in. But I went to the desk and they checked through their papers and still had it. Relief!
I grab that and my suitcase and get to my bus stop. I promptly get in a bus going in the wrong direction!
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