Mr Peter

After a long wait we crossed the Russian border without any problems as the problems come at the exit (I hope not :s) and after another 3 hours on the Marshrutka we arrived at St Petersburg or Peter as the Russians say.

Peter is one of those cities that inspire love at first sight – very pretty and very European, but plagued by tourists; you feel not as though you have entered Russia but somewhere else, where hordes of tourists come for a long weekend. I went to my hotel and came back to take a look at the city at night. The heart of the town is Nevsky Prospekt, where many places of interest can be found. Peter is a bit quieter but still beautiful at night.

As Russia is a hassle to travel in and in theory you have to register your visa in each city where you spend more than three days, I decided to be sneaky and stay a maximum of three days in each city, so that same night I went to buy a train ticket to go to Moscow 2 days later. It turned out to be an odyssey, of which Tanya had warned me, and after several failed attempts I managed to buy a third class ticket which would arrive in Moscow at 5am!!


The following day my priority was the Church of the Resurrection where I satisfied my great curiosity with the delight of seeing such a beautiful construction, with all its onion-shaped domes by the river. I couldn't believe my eyes, gazing at this amazing temple which we for whatever reason always associate with Russia.

I spent the rest of the day wandering around Peter, captivated by its slightly fast rhythm; listening to groups of annoying Russian teenagers revving their motor engines to the maximum; watching life go by. I went to a place called Peter and Paul Fortress and on the way I went to the Hermitage and was scared by its size, so I decided to postpone my visit as seeing every one of its galleries is a 24km walk. As I crossed the river I bumped into large numbers of newly married couples taking thousands of photos of themselves by every monument (especially the brides).

There was also a music band and a lot of alcohol. The girls were dressed really elegantly and the guys seemed more interested in the drink than in the company – it was a real spectacle.

When I arrived at the Peter and Paul Fortress I saw a large group of people who were sunbathing and improving their tans. Interestingly, that very place is the local 'sunbathing spot' in winter!! You can't be entirely sane if you wonder around in your underwear in the snow.

In the evening, as I got myself something to eat at a restaurant, I was invited to another table by a group of Russian couples who were curious about me. Only one woman from the whole table spoke a bit of English and they ended up declaring that in Russia you drink either vodka or beer, not water. Piva ili Vodka, nyet Vada. Then they carried on trying to chat to me until the translator's husband arrived and shook my hand with an unhappy look on his face. My self-conservation instinct told me that I should leave that table and it was a good move as when I said to the woman that I was going to my table she said: 'yes, that's better'.

The following day I decided to go to the Hermitage. It was time to immerse myself a bit in culture. I went with a Japanese guy called Hiroshi and we walked around the palace's enormous galleries together. I was only really interested in 19th Century French art but we ended up seeing a large part of the exhibition. We were really tired at the end but still went around the town a couple of times and then went back to the hostel where I picked up my bag and started my journey to Moscow.

While I ate with Hiroshi, he taught me to make an origami figure but I immediately forgot how to do it. Hiroshi was a bit quiet and his English didn't help him but it was still fun to spend the day with him.

One of the things that impressed me about Peter and Russia in general was the fact that women wear such high heels, even to go and buy bread, as a friend's girlfriend later demonstrated.

I had really never seen so many women in heels in one day.

The girls in Peter seemed to be very fashion-conscious and as they are always in such high heels it sometimes seemed as if I was watching a fashion show and not just walking in the street. Guys are also dressed immaculately with almost yuppie hairstyles, with raised shoes, some carrying a briefcase, and generally super serious (as if they are angry)

I arrived at the station. It was my first time on a night train so I was excited. As a good backpacker I travelled in the cheapest class, 3rd class or platskart. To buy a ticket you need to show your passport and also to get on the train. I found out that this was so that internal migration can be controlled.

I sat down in my place and waited patiently for the train to depart. Nobody prepared me for what was going to happen. A woman started talking to me – she was curious about this person who only knew three words in Russian and who came from so far away. Then a couple arrived and the fun started as they fought over getting to ask me questions – none of which I understood! When I took out the Russian-English dictionary things got even more fun as we could have conversations by pointing at specific words in the dictionary. It was a lot of fun. Whenever I understood something the man shook my hand and when I didn't understand – 99% of the time, he repeated himself in a different way. Somehow I understood some of what he was saying. Then a few friends (of the first woman) arrived and there were 5 people asking me questions. The fun faded when the infamous provadnitza arrived and had some kind of argument with the couple, I think about something to do with the sheets. I remember very well that the provadnitza had gold teeth, so she had an unforgettable smile.

At the end of the night I was mentally tired but had to sit through photos with explanations, one after the other, of a cruise that the three women went on. At 1am I went to bed with the hope of sleeping 4 hours but the lovely provadnitza woke us up at 4am (one hour before arrival) so that we would give her back the sheets.

I arrived in Moscow at 5am and waited for Gustavo (a friend of my aunt Maritza from university) who was my guide in my short stay in Moscow.

To check the pictures on the original post in spanish go here
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Why sleep in a 5 star hotel when you can sleep under a million of them?

The night before the journey I didn't sleep much as my emotions about the trip and about saying my goodbyes didn't let me get to sleep. I got up at 4am to get a train to Gatwick where my flight departed from. Tanya got up with me and accompanied me to the train station and from there I left alone, on this long journey.

I weighed the rucksack at the airport – 14 kilos is not the weight I would most like to carry but I know that I'll get rid of things en route, such as a kind of Colombian fruit paste that I'm taking for my aunt's friend in Moscow, the guidebook, a Russian dictionary and other things.

I arrived in Helsinki on a rainy and quiet afternoon, a bit out of it from all the tiredness and lack of sleep and also from all the thoughts swimming around my head. I took a look at the city and made my way towards where I was going to stay, with a Finnish guy called Arto that I met on Couchsurfing.




Arto is an amazing person, himself having done a really long trip by bike for several months from Finland to Turkey, then on various routes in India, Cambodia and Thailand. His travel experiences were very inspiring and entertaining to listen to. He gave me a lot of advice and lent me a book called 'vagabonding' which I devoured in the three days that I was in his house. On the first night we camped on an island 15 minutes from Helsinki called Pihlajasaari, we ate under the stars watching the lights of Helsinki, and Arto entertained me with his many stories of camping and living a very different life from most people in Finland. He works part time 9 months per year and the rest of his time is devoted to his hobbies, like leading a Japanese-Finnish group, participating in Linux-Finland, camping, travelling and meeting travellers. He told me a saying that I liked a lot: 'Why sleep in a 5 star hotel when you can sleep under a million of them?'


The following morning we explored the island more and found this sign.





Arto had invited me to a sauna session due to take place that evening with his friends and I was glad to accept his invitation. It reminded me of when I lived with a Finnish woman 6 years ago. The woman was about 90 years old and she told me that one day she went to a nudist beach with her daughters, son-in-law, grandchildren and great grandson; I was speechless and asked her if they were all naked and I remember the old woman making fun of me, saying 'it's true, you Latin Americans have a certain problem with nudity'. It was because of my long conversations with Kaarina (the Finnish woman) that I started my trip in Helsinki (and also because of the cheaper flights – translator's note :) ) I knew what I had to do and when we got to the sauna we all undressed. The sauna was electric, not the traditional type, and all of Arto's friends spoke English amongst themselves out of politeness. I also played petanque for the first time but didn't have any beginner's luck.



The following day it was time for me to have a proper look at the city. I rambled along its streets, rather than trying to see specific places of interest. I went on a trip to Suomelinna, another island in Helsinki's bay which was where there was a fort which prevented Helsinki from being taken from the sea. There I did a drawing for Arto for his 'guest wall'. As the next day I was going to St Petersburg I asked about the cheapest way of getting there. There are three options: train, Finnish bus or Russian mini bus (known throughout Russia as the Marshrutka).

The Marshrutka is the cheapest option, as long as you know where they leave from! Arto told me more or less where to find it but it took me a while. When I finally found it I had my first warning that I would soon have to leave the communicational paradise that is Finland, where bus drivers speak English, to go into Russia where I would have to do everything in sign language because my Russian learning has NOT gone well.

That night at Arto's house I made Colombian rice with panela, a Colombian brown sugarloaf. We listened to music and I finished reading the interesting parts of 'Vagabonding'. The following day, I left with my bags after having breakfast with Arto. On the Marshrutka I met an American student who, for reasons of Russian bureaucracy, had to have two passports to be able to study in two different Russian cities.


That is how I finished my short stay in Finland, which strangely is the northenmost place where I'll be on this trip. I really liked Helsinki with its free concerts, nature and thanks to my conversations with Arto and his advice. He reminded me of Kaarina, the Finnish woman in Brighton – he had similar facial expressions, a similar accent and his way of speaking had aspects that reminded me of my long conversations with Kaarina.



Right now I'm in a Russian city called Novosibirsk in Western Siberia. I have lots to tell but in another post.


To check the pictures on the original post in spanish go here

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Beggining

Only 5 hours to go before I wake up, get out of bed, grab my bag and start this trip that I have got myself into. I can't contain the avalanche of emotions tormenting me, regrets for what I didn't manage to do, sadness for what I am leaving behind and great uncertainty of what I might find. I leave behind people I value, a city I love and hate at the same time, and some say I am leaving behind stability that many want and fight for. I know I won't regret this great adventure. I know there'll be difficult times when I'll want to come back to my comfort zone, when my patience will be tested to its limits, and at those times I'll get to know myself better and see how open-minded I really am. But there'll also be times that will take my breath away, as I'll see the beauty of our world with my own eyes and discover human nature again and again. I hope to find what it is I'm looking for, although I don't really know what that is.

Venía por el camino (coming along the path) was inspired by a memory I have from my grandfather. Years ago at his farm he had a new employee who was very active and also had a special kind of past. He was one of those people who don't go unnoticed, who are liked by everyone and are difficult to forget. He had a very difficult life, having almost been a slave at a school for monks and one day he decided to go off around Colombia. He worked a few months here, a few there, and knew how to do a bit of everything! When we asked my grandfather how he found this guy, my grandfather replied: 'Venía por el camino".

The english version is available thanks to Tanya.

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