We are getting pretty good at speaking without words and looked at each other silently while communicating 'Is this guy for real or is this the van headed for Siberia?' Perry and I boarded the empty van and sat with our heavy packs on our laps. 'Get in,' he finally said with a hint of menace while motioning to the van with his thumb. Isaac's Square,' I said as I held out my tour ticket. 'Where you go,' he questioned as he looked at us with suspicion.I approached him for the following riveting conversation. The side of the van read 'City Shuttle' in English.
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A man wearing what can only be described as a 'Russian Gangster Starter Kit' (tight capri jogging pants, leather jacket, newsboy cap) was smoking as he leaned against the front of a run-down van with a cracked windshield. After about 20 minutes, which is an eternity in a long line with people glaring at you, she disdainfully slid my passport back at me with one finger.įinally outside the terminal, the sky was dark with rain. Then, she began to deliberately photocopy each page of my passport. HA, silly American fool! The officer looked down at my passport photo, then up at me, what seemed to be a dozen times before she proceeded to slowly pore through every page in my passport. Now, I certainly did not expect a parade and balloons as I entered the country, but didn't think it would be overly onerous either. The seed germinated as I passed through customs. But as the door opened into the port, I knew the seed of fear had been planted. Besides, I thought, this is a well-traveled western tourist destination, not Kabul. I've dealt with plenty of on-the-road shenanigans- strikes, demonstrations, riot police, food poisoning and countless weirdos, to name a few.
'Wow, you're braver than I am.'īrave? Lady, please! I've navigated the globe with grit and savvy. 'You're touring the city on your own?' she questioned, in an incredulous tone. Behind me, a Canadian family with two kids around 7 and 10 were chatting about what they were going to see, and I asked if they were taking the shuttle into the city to which the mother responded they had a personal tour guide picking them up at the terminal. My excitement and confidence were at their peaks as I stood waiting to depart the ship. I didn't lose it immediately, however, and it was a combination of things that pecked away until the blow out. Petersburg would be the site of my first on-the-road meltdown. So you can understand my disappointment and frustration that St. I had spent many hours researching the city and I knew to be cautious, but I definitely wasn't afraid going in. With two bucket list items on the agenda, it was a dream destination. I was so excited for this visit and considered it as an early contender for 'high point' in our year of travel. Read enough to be smartly informed, but not so much as to scare yourself into paranoia. Here's a tip if you find yourself preparing for a trip to a part of the world you know little about.
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