Thursday, October 11, 2012

Russia/Latvia (Eurotrip_2012)


               Margot and I took a Rossiya Russian Airline flight from Stockholm to St. Petersburg on Wednesday, September 12th. The flight experience was a little different from those I had experienced in America and the rest of Europe so far. It felt very similar to what the flight experience would have been like in the 90’s. Even though the flight was only an hour long, we got meals, the outfits of the flight attendants made me feel like I was flying with Pan Am, and when we landed in Petersburg, the plane stopped in the middle of the runway where we all exited and were taxied into the airport by a bus. Once we got into the airport, we went through immigration, which took like three minutes. It seemed crazy that we spent weeks working on and waiting for our Russian visas in America just so the immigration lady could look at it for twenty seconds, but I’m glad that the experience was so easy and smooth. Stepping out the door of the airport, I couldn’t believe it: I was in Russia!

                From the airport, we took a bus into town, which took about thirty minutes. The bus ride itself was a cool new experience for me; I got to see a Police Officer get a free ride, discovered that for some backwards reason you pay for your bus ride when you get to your destination instead of when you get on the bus, and learned proper public transportation etiquette. Rule #1:  If any women older than like thirty gets on the bus/metro, then you must give up your seat for them. Rule #2: Always take your backpack off because Russians really really hate it when your back pack is in their face. Rule #3: Do not put your foot up on any of the seats because that’s incredibly disrespectful (although not showering for ten days before getting on the bus/metro is acceptable and encouraged). And finally the most important rule, Rule #4: Never never EVER smile at anyone on the bus/metro. There’s a saying in Russia that goes something like, “A person smiling for no reason is the first sign of insanity.” In essence, they simply don’t smile around anyone except their close friends and family, it’s odd.

                After our bus ride, we took the metro to our hostel. Well, actually we took the metro to an old building that was undergoing major construction and realized that we were definitely not at the right place. Still wearing our jackets from the cool morning, we walked to a nearby coffee shop in the 75 degree heat with our huge backpacks on and being the dumbasses that we are, ordered some hot tea, just to make sure that our body temperature didn’t get below 105 degrees. We did discover our mistake with the hostel directions however, and set out on the metro again to give hostel location number two a try. Upon arriving at the second building, we were still having trouble locating the hostel though. We ended up asking for directions from this lady who was all dressed up as a war general on the street corner in order to advertise for a restaurant. She ended up being the nicest lady in the world, leaving her post and walking us all around for fifteen minutes until she finally discovered the right building for our hostel. After thanking her, we shoved the building’s huge wooden door open to reveal a very skeptical front hallway. It was so dark inside you could barely see the trash and cigarette butts piled on the 1970’s marble staircase at the other end of the hall. After taking in a good whiff of asbestos, I decided not to pass any judgment until we’d seen the actual hostel and started the long march up seven flights of stairs to Hostel MIR on the top floor of the building. After passing several floors of huge steel doors with bolt locks that made me feel like I was in the old meat factory from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, my skepticism had not subsided. Fortunately, when we opened the door to MIR, I was pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful, normal looking hostel situated inside. The workers were overly friendly, as were the patrons and I would definitely recommend the hostel for future St. Petersburg visitors. Not only was it a great hostel but it was also in an incredible location, right on the main road in St. Petersburg, Nevsky Prospect. Church of our Savior on Spilled Blood was two blocks away, the Kazan Church was three blocks away, the Winter Palace/Hermitage was a block away, and St. Isaac’s Cathedral was a five minute walk away.
 
              After getting settled in the hostel, we took the metro to Ploshad Vosstaniya (Uprising Square). In the middle of the square is the Hero City Obelisk which was given to Leningrad after the Great Patriotic War, known to us as WWII. Why they feel the need to create their own name for wars I have no idea, what they call the Patriotic War was the Napoleanic War to the rest of the world. Anyways, after WWII, five cities in the Soviet Union were given the status of ‘hero city’ due to the extreme military hardship and suffering they had endured during the war. The four cities were Leningrad, Stalingrad, Sevastopl, Kiev and Odessa, with Leningrad being renamed St. Petersburg after the fall of the Soviet Union. After checking out the monument, we walked down the street to the huge shopping mall so that Margot could get a new leather jacket, since the zipper to her original leather jacket had broken back in Copenhagen and she didn’t want to stick out among the Russians. Because Russians dress fancy all of the time! Finding a woman who is not wearing heels is impossible, finding one without a leather jacket is unheard of, and finding one that’s not downright gorgeous is simply a lost cause. I may have over-exaggerated just a little bit, but there is definitely an abundance of very attractive women in Russia, half of which is probably because they all try so hard to look good. One explanation, given by Margot’s host mom, Marina, from Margot’s semester in St. Petersburg last fall, is that during the Cold War Russia was so completely cut off from the West that they didn’t have the opportunity to buy the fancy clothes and make-up that we had, but knowing of its existence, assumed that everyone in the West was using it and therefore looked beautiful. So when the Soviet era ended, they took full advantage of this opportunity to finally buy the products popular in the west only to discover that they weren’t used in such abundance as they had originally thought. So now the Russian culture is to get all dressed up and look pretty, even if you’re just going out to pick up the paper, while us Americans shuffle out the door in hello kitty slippers and a wife beater to grab the paper.

                After buying Margot’s jacket we went to this Georgian restaurant called Café Khachapuri to get a traditional Georgian meal. After receiving our khachapuri, which is this delicious bread with cheese baked into it, Margot ordered us some tarkhun, which is the Georgian equivalent of soda pop that happens to be bright neon green. For dinner Margot had blackberry chicken and I had a lamb garlic stew and it was really damn good.

After dinner we went down to the magnificent metro stop to catch the train back to our hostel. Russian metro stops are the most elaborately decorated metro stations I have ever seen in my entire life: several times I found myself confused as to whether I was in a metro stop or in Stalin’s Ballroom. Beautiful sculptors and engravings are everywhere, huge chandeliers hang from the ceilings, and all of the walls and floors are made of marble. It’s obvious to tell that everything is from the soviet era, not excluding the metro trains, which typical to the Soviet Russia attitude, close their doors with a force strong enough to decapitate anyone running late to catch their train. I honestly believe that anyone who visits Russia and doesn’t experience the metro system misses a very interesting piece of the country. I would seriously consider riding the metro around all day and simply admiring all of the different stops, they could each be put inside a museum and I would pay good money to go and see them.  Fortunately, I went to Russia with Margot and thus navigated the metro system with ease, simply following my travel buddy wherever she went. Otherwise, I probably would’ve gotten so lost that I may have never been able to find my way out to the streets again.

That night we went to bed at about 2 A.M., which was also about the time that we discovered we were staying with a bunch of night owls, as out of the ten other people occupying our room, zero had arrived home to go to bed by this time.

The following morning we got up, had a late breakfast of toast and cereal with warm milk because Russians are so scared of the cold that they refuse to drink cold milk like normal human beings, and then made the short walk over to the Church of our Savior on Spilled Blood. The previous day I had noticed this church sitting on the bank of a canal with its huge onion domes and vivid colors, it was definitely an eye catching piece of architecture and I was immediately interested in seeing it.
 
It only got better the closer I got, discovering its glory and magnificence first hand, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw inside. I just want to preface this with the fact that out of every Church, Cathedral and any other religious building that I’ve ever seen in my entire life, this one takes the cake. As I walked in, I was too preoccupied with buying my audio guide that I never even looked up until I got my ear plugs in and turned the corner from the dark opening hallway into the huge bright room containing Nicholas II’s tomb, three iconostases, and incredible mosaics that covered every single inch of the walls and ceilings. It was such an overwhelming moment that a couple minutes later, after spinning around in circles with my head glued to the ceiling and wiping the drool off of my face, I had to restart my audio guide because I hadn’t paid attention to a single word that the woman had said to me. I had never seen anything like this in my entire life, it was incredible! The colors were so vivid and rich that I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. If you didn’t get right up close to the mosaics then you would have thought they were all perfect paintings instead of a thousand little pieces of jade glued to a wall. Seeing all of the mosaics was an impossible task, so after gazing at all of them for half of the morning, I finally moved on to see Tsar Alexander II’s tomb, situated on the exact spot that he was assassinated in 1881. His son, Alexander III became emperor upon his fathers’ death and made this church in his honor. In order to place Alexander II’s tomb directly over the spot where he was struck by a bomb, while still retaining the symmetry of the building, the church had to be expanded six feet over a canal. The church wasn’t completed until 1902 under the rule of Emperor Nicholas II, who himself would later be assassinated with his family during the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917. The assassination of Nicholas II led to the beginning of a Soviet Union that would oppose all religion and thus directly affected the Church on Spilled Blood. It was closed in 1930, used as a morgue during WWII, and used as a vegetable storehouse thereafter. In 1970 restoration started on the church that wasn’t completed until 1997 when the church finally reopened. It was during this time that a dud bomb was discovered in the attic of the church, leftover from WWII. It’s amazing that the church survived at all, living through an atheist Soviet Union, two world wars, and a bomb. As I would discover later when visiting the Peterhof Palace, Russia is incredibly determined in the restoration of its beautiful landmarks; and thank god that they are because their landmarks are absolutely incredible. Moving on from the tomb of Alexander II I came upon the Italian pink marble floors, with designs spanning the entire floor of the church I couldn’t believe a floor could look so beautiful. Thinking it couldn’t get any better, I came upon the three iconostases, directly opposite Alexander II’s tomb. The main iconostasis was an amazing structure of different colored marble, each type of marble being the exact same that was used in the construction of Alexander II’s tomb. There were five mosaic icons on the iconostasis, each made with such intricate detail that it took one year to complete one square meter of each icon constructed. And in the middle were the incredible silver and gold holy doors looping and weaving in and out of each other making an incredible design that took your breath away. The two iconostasis on each side of the main one were pretty cool as well but were missing all but one of their icons, these were looted at some point during the time of the Soviet Union. I could have spent the entire day here walking around and admiring all of the mosaics but alas we only had so much time in St. Petersburg and there was still so much more to see.

After leaving the Church on Spilled Blood we walked through the Mikhaylovskiy Sad (Michael Garden) and I saw the for the first time how anal Russia was about people walking on public grass. I never really figured out why but for some reason they fucking hate it when you walk on the grass. Anyways, we popped out of the park by the Chizhik-Pyzhik monument, which is simply a three inch tall bronze sculptor of a little bird sitting on the side of one of the canals. Who the monument was created to memorialize I have absolutely no clue but everyone was trying to land kopeks (equivalent to a penny but worth 1/30th as much) on the sculpture’ tiny base, which was slightly entertaining. After this we walked over to the Kazan Church, my least favorite of the three Church’s I would see by the end of the day but still a magnificent structure. It was named in honor of a very prominent icon in the Russian Orthodox Church, Our Lady of Kazan. After walking around for a while gazing at all of the icons bordered with gold and silver designs I glanced around the church struggling to find Margot, who adhering to the traditions of the church had to wear a head scarf. I saw the huge line waiting to kiss and pray in front of a copy of the icon Our Lady of Kazan and the magnificent iconostasis before finally finding Margot and heading back outside. Personally, I found the outside of the structure even more magnificent then the inside which while it was beautiful, was also dark and musty. The outside was a huge half circular structure covering an entire block, with the actual church situated in the very middle. The two branches stretching out on each side were lined with granite pillars that gave the church a very sophisticated and grand image.  

After the Kazan church we took a quick tourist break at our hostel before walking over to St. Isaac’s Church, which is Margot’s favorite Church in the entire city. Before heading inside the church’s huge grand entrance, which is held up by eight huge marble pillars, headlined by the incredible stone engraving depicting a biblical scene over the stone steps, and topped off with the fifteen feet tall bronze doors depicting eight different scenes from the life of the Prince of Vladimir and Alexander Nevsky, I took the stairs up one of the buildings four towers to reach the top of the building. Underneath the church’s huge dome top and the dozens of sculptors of religious saints circling its base, I was able to see all of the sculptures lining the buildings square structure with the skyline of St. Petersburg in the background. I had an incredible vantage point of the city and spent a good 45 minutes circling around the dome taking in all of the churches, palaces, and monuments.
 
After getting my fill I went back down the tower and met back up with Margot inside of the Church. The inside was a striking array of vivid and bright mosaics whose borders are lavishly decorated with gold and other bright colored marble and granite. The color scheme was similar to that in the Church on Spilled Blood but with a completely different attitude. In fact, while every inch of the Church on Spilled Blood was intended to be covered with mosaics, St. Isaac’s was not. Originally paintings hung all around the interior of the church however, when they started to deteriorate the original architect of St. Isaac’s ordered that every picture was to be turned into a mosaic on the Church’s walls. This painstakingly long process was never fully complete, but enough of it was completed to blow the mind of anyone that walks into St. Isaac’s. Every inch of the walls that are not covered with beautiful mosaics are covered with various paintings, color schemes, and exquisite gold designs. There are three malachite columns on either side of the iconostasis that are mosaics themselves, although you would never tell without a microscope and a keen eye. The columns appear to be one solid beam of bright green malachite that is absurdly gorgeous. The ceilings are covered with huge paintings and mosaics bordered with intricate gold designs. The great bronze doors on each of the four sides of the church each tell a story with their sculpted metal surfaces. And if you stand in the very middle of this ginormous church and look up, you can see through a hole in the ceiling a sculpted dove soaring through the dome of the cathedral. The whole building was absolutely incredible!

After seeing the third and final church of the day we walked outside of St. Isaac’s only to be at the base of a statue of none other than Nicholas I riding a horse. And while walking home I caught my first glimpse of the Winter Palace that houses the Hermitage and is also the location where the provisional government was arrested by the Bolsheviks. It was a huge structure with incredible designs of white decorating the borders of the bright green building. It was a very bright and eye catching building; and I was really fond of the architectural design of the place. In front of the Palace’s main entrance is the huge Palace Square with the General Staff building on the opposite side, leaving the Alexander column, commemorating the Soviet victory over Napoleon, right in the middle of the square and half way between each building. It was an incredible view.

That night we had Georgian food again at a place closer to our hostel. I personally found the previous night's experience much better, but the boiled lamb and khachapuri made a decent meal here as well. I also got my first chance to experience Russia without my bilingual travel buddy when we didn’t have enough money to cover the check and I had to run out to find an ATM. This was definitely an eye opening and frustrating experience. As I walked down Nevsky Prospect peering through the dark windows of all the closed banks that didn’t have an accessible after-hours ATM, I finally began popping into convenient store after convenient store but only received a shrug and confused face whenever I asked in English whether they had or knew where an ATM was. After twenty minutes of acting out ‘getting money from a machine’ to the annoyed people on Nevsky Prospect, I finally went back to the restaurant to ask our waitress if she knew where an ATM was. However, following the trend, the waitress also didn’t know any English and immediately assumed that I was trying to dip out on the check. She rushed over to our table to have a talk with Margot in Russian about the situation and luckily Margot got it all settled out. I couldn’t believe how difficult life had become once I’d lost my translator. Thinking back on how amazing my experience in Russia was I’m still not sure if I would be willing to go back there without a Russian speaking friend. Not only was Russia the least English friendly country that I’ve visited, but the demeanor of the people also changed the second they discovered that I didn’t know any Russian. I don’t want to generalize here because there were actually a lot of Russians that liked and found an interest in me simply because I was an American, but these were young people who I had met through mutual friends or in a hostel, the average stranger on the street was definitely not this friendly to an English speaking American. This experience also made me realize how thankful and lucky I was to have my friend Margot, who is pretty much fluent in Russian, traveling with me. I don’t have a problem admitting that I was completely useless during Russia, simply doing whatever Margot told me to do. Without Margot I doubt I would have been able to see even ¼ of the stuff that we experienced in Russia. If you’re ever thinking of traveling to Russia, I would recommend just packing Margot into your suitcase so that you can survive your trip and make it home safely.

The next day we made the really short walk over to the Hermitage, which is situated inside the Winter Palace. The palace decorations were incredible and the museum is so big that seeing everything in one day is simply impossible. As usual, I found the actual rooms of the Palace much more interesting than the stuff that was in them, and the stuff that’s in them is incredible. I find it almost overwhelming walking into the rooms decorated with hand carvings, marble statues, and with gold/silver covering everything else in the room. If I had one of the rooms from the Winter Palace in my home, then I would never leave it. After admiring all of the palace rooms, we eventually moved on to see the amazing collection of art that the Hermitage had to offer. I saw the peacock clock in the pavilion hall which was created for Catherine the Great after she visited St. Petersburg in 1777, then just the Duchess of Kingston, and impressed a man named Grigory Potiomkin. He wanted to create a clock to impress the Duchess but since his financial affairs were not in pristine order, he used a pre-existing clock and simply improved it. The clock was finally delivered to Catherine in 1781 once she had taken rule of the country. The clock is this huge forest scene with a golden peacock in the middle and every animal has a task for helping to keep the time. The dragon fly ticks around counting the seconds, the frog counts the minutes, the rooster counts the hours, and every day at noon the peacock turns around and lifts its pure golden feathers up to display the time. Not to mention that this clock was in a room where the floor was an incredible mosaic and the pure white walls were highlighted with gold designs.

After spending a good three hours at the Hermitage we had only seen maybe 1/5th of the entire museum but our tiny little brains simply couldn’t contain any more knowledge without at least recharging with food and water first. So we left and met up with Chris, one of Margot’s friends from school back in D.C. who is currently in a study abroad program doing a semester in St. Petersburg. He brought another girl from his program named Olivia and we got lunch at a place called Market Place on Nevsky Prospect. I had some borsch, a pork shashlik, and this weird pastry thing while I got to know Chris and Olivia a little better. After hearing all about their crazy flight experience getting from D.C. to St. Petersburg a week earlier we parted ways, making plans to meet up a couple hours later for a night on the town. Margot and I went back to our place to relax for a while before meeting back up with Chris, Olivia, two other girls from their program, Val, Ainsley, and Olivia’s Russian friend Ira. The girls wanted to go to this bar they heard about that had gotten good reviews but there was only one problem, it had no name. The directions were as follows, “Go down a dark alleyway and take a right. There you’ll find an old rusty metal door, open it and come on down.” We did as we were told and sure enough, after walking through the old rusty door that was pinned between two dark silhouettes smoking cigarettes we found a really cozy basement bar. After enjoying some White Russians followed by some Black Russians, I had successfully pre-gamed for the night and we decided to change location, which according to Ira is not very common in Russia. You pick one bar and you stay there for the entire night, which just sounds too easy and not enough fun for us Americans.

The next bar we ended up at was the Tolsti Friar, where we all ordered some beer and received our free bar snacks of pretzels and fish. Delicious!

I also used the restroom at the Tolsti Friar but the only urinal was out of order, leaving just one toilet operational and thus I was crammed into a 6 foot by 6 foot room with seven other Russians who spent the whole wait time shooting the breeze and telling jokes. I of course simply laughed whenever the rest of the group started laughing and when the group looked at me as if someone had asked me a question I just said, “dah,” which means yes in Russian. Nobody punched me in the face or kicked me out of the bathroom so I considered my trip to the bathroom a success. Actually, funny as it is, I passed one guy from the bathroom when we decided to change location once again and he threw his hands up in the air yelling something in Russian before giving me a high five. Who the hell knows why?

Apparently the location of the Tolsti Friar was too bright and populated for our style because for the next bar location we had reverted back to the dark creepy alleyway scene. After saying goodbye to Olivia and Ira we met up with another Russian named Natali, who Val had met at a bar the previous night, and Natali’s friends Kostya and Zhenya. While getting acquainted with each other we made our way down the canal and into a dark back alley filled with expensive cars and big men smoking cigarettes in the shadows. Leaping over pot holes full of rain and squinting to see if there actually was a light at the end of the dark alleyways we finally arrived at a bar that sounded like it was really bumping inside. We sent the Russian natives up front to deal with the bouncers who informed them that since we were not on the list we could not get in, however they simply pulled the ‘American Card,’ which I didn’t even realize existed, especially not in Russia. The play-by-play: “Sorry, if you’re not on the list then you can’t get in. No exceptions.” “Well you see all of these people with me, they’re American.” “OH! You have Americans, come right in!” Walking into the club I couldn’t help but think ‘how the fuck did that just work?’ Which was immediately followed by the thought ‘why can’t it be that easy for me in Boulder?’ Anyways, as funny as it sounds we didn’t really like this club and instead decided to leave and head over to a different club that we were a little more familiar with, Club Mod.

Club Mod was situated in this dark little square surrounded on all sides by old tall buildings, which meant we had to take this pitch dark tunnel just to get to the square in the middle. However, just like everywhere else in Russia, once you get inside everything is the complete opposite as its outside appearance. The little door led us into a huge building with a stage, dance floor, several floors, rooms, and a roof top bar. Oh and I almost forgot to mention that this also happened to by the night of Amy Winehouse’s Birthday party, which meant that a cover band played Winehouse songs all night while Winehouse music videos played in the background. After dancing to Rehab and waving our no,no,no fingers at each other, making friends with the DJ’s, and drinking about five too many vodka shots we finally departed the club and made our way to a local 24 hour restaurant to get our midnight(5 AM) snack.

The following morning we had lunch/breakfast with Ainsley and Chris at this waffle shop that made sandwiches using waffles as the bread. It was pretty decent food but the portions were much too small. After eating, we went shopping at a local market which was an experience in and of it-self. The small fluorescent lit hallways were crammed with shops selling everything from underwear to knives to cowboy hats. After doing our day's shopping, Margot went back to the hostel to get some rest while I went back to the Hermitage to try and cover more ground on the huge three floor structure jam packed with centuries old art. Three hours later I walked out of the Hermitage satisfied with the large amounts of famous paintings, incredible armor, ludicrous gold and silver moldings, historical mosaics, and lavishly decorated palace rooms that I had just seen.

After satisfying my Hermitage intake, I met back up with Margot and we decided to grab some food at this place called Buffalo Steakhouse, per Chris’ recommendation. And coincidentally while we were waiting for our food, Natali happened to walk past the restaurant and saw me through the window. So she came on in and joined us for the rest of dinner, getting a call from Zhenya halfway through, who also decided to meet up with us. After we had finished all our food, we decided that the four of us should go grab a beer together. We went to SPB, trading stories about the previous night and discussing each other’s studies and ambitions. It was a really mellow and enjoyable night and I was sad to say goodbye to our new friends, letting them know that if they ever found themselves in Colorado, we would be happy to show them around.

The next day, Sunday the 16th, we made the trek all the way out to Peterhof Palace. In order to get out to the palace though, I had to take my first marshrutka ride, which I’d heard about from Margot while she was studying in St. Petersburg last fall. These are vans that drive the bus routes and charge a slightly higher fee, but it’s totally worth the price because the drivers are so crazy you get to your destination three times faster than on the buses. Plus the marshrutkas don’t stop at any of the stops unless someone yells up to the driver to pull it over, again optimizing your travel time. However, the part I remembered most from Margot’s emails last year was how intimidating it was to yell up to the driver in Russian to stop the bus. Luckily, once again I was saved any embarrassment and simply let Margot do all of the talking while I simply followed. Successfully reaching our destination, we walked through the front gates to the grounds of Peterhof Palace and wandered through the upper fountains. After purchasing our tickets we entered the lower fountains which were one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen. The main fountain was three main levels of overwhelming amounts of golden animals and figures with water jetting out of their mouths. The first level were two staircases, one on each side that were lined with gold human figures while water was ushered into the air and allowed to cascade down the staircase to the second level. The first portion of the second level was set in between the staircases and was a circle of pressurized fountains that spewed water into the air where it was then allowed to flow out to the second portion of this level which was a mix of tile floors resembling a grand ball room, another staircase set right in the middle of the fountain, and lions' heads that lined the wall just below the second level, letting the water fly out of their mouths into the third and final level. This was a pool of water that surrounded the center piece of the whole production. A huge golden Samson who is using his bulging arms to tear open the mouth of a lion, where a huge gush of water soared twenty meters into the air before crashing down on Samson and the dozens of fish that lined the island he was standing on, also spewing water into the pool. Of course, Peter the Great had created this fountain to commemorate his victory of the Swedish in the Great Northern War so there is some symbolism connected to this piece of the fountain. The lion is part of the Swedish coat of arms and one of the major battles in the war was won during St. Samson’s day, so the fountain represents Russia’s strength and power over the Swedish. After this fountain, we wandered around the huge garden discovering the many more beautiful fountains that occupy the grounds. It was incredible how many amazing fountains were created here, and all in the 1730’s where they had to use natural water pressure created from gravity. They used a 4 km long pipe running from a high elevation in order to create the pressure needed for the Samson fountain.

After making it back into the city on the marshrutka, we went to the train station in order to purchase our train tickets to Moscow for the night of the 18th and then got some dinner at a Russian blini fast food chain called Teremok. Teremok is like the McDonalds of Russia with one on every street corner, and rightfully so, they’re fucking delicious. I had the caesar chicken, a royal blini (which was a cheeseburger inside a blini and reminded me of Vincent Vega when he described the Big Mac’s in Amsterdam), and one with nutella and bananas.

The next day we went to Smolny campus, the school in which Margot and my other friend Jaim studied last fall when they did their semester abroad in St. Petersburg. After reading blogs, seeing pictures, and hearing all about their experience at Smolny it was really cool to actually see it for myself. The amazing church looks like a palace and behind it is what used to be a boarding school for the children of the aristocrats, but is also the university that Jaim and Margot studied at last fall.

After getting a tour of the building and watching all of the teachers and coordinators’ eyes open wide when they saw Margot back for a surprise visit, we took a bus to the Peter and Paul fortress. The fortress is the original citadel of St. Petersburg and was founded by Peter the Great in 1703. Here we saw the Peter and Paul Cathedral with its 404 foot tall bell tower, making it the tallest structure in the entire city. It is also the burial place of all Russian Tsars from Peter I to Alexander III. The remains of Nicholas II were also buried here along with his entire family and royal servants on the 80th anniversary of their deaths; they were all brutally executed during the Bolshevik Rebellion in 1918. It was a really cool Cathedral, but just like many other historical buildings in Russia and Europe, it was under renovation in order to restore and preserve the beautiful old building.

After seeing the cathedral we went to check out the old prison, which was used for high ranking or political prisoners. During the revolution in 1917, all of the prisoners were freed and their cells were replaced by hundreds of Tsarist officials. The fortress quickly surrendered and declared for the Bolsheviks during the coup and actually fired about thirty shells at the Winter Palace before it was overtaken in late October. The captured ministers from the Palace were placed in the very cells that we were walking through and taking pictures of. It was really cool to think of the array of people that had been imprisoned here and to learn some more about the Russian history, but after looking at sixty of the exact same cells, I was ready for something a little more exciting.

After the fort we took a stroll around the fortress before continuing Margot’s trip down memory lane by making our way out to visit Margot’s Host Family on Petragradskaya Island. Our whole time in Petersburg, Margot was nervous about this day because she didn’t know what kind of response she was going to get from her teachers and host family but it became apparent how foolish she was being when we stepped out of the two foot by two foot elevator into the dark and musty hallway in front of their apartment where Margot’s host mom, Marina, and host sister Katya started jumping up and down and hugging Margot so hard I thought her eyes would pop out of their sockets. After finally managing to separate the three of them long enough to get inside, we all took off our shoes, as its customary to take your shoes off whenever you go inside someone’s home, even at our hostel we had to do this. They then gave me the tour of the house and showed me the room that Margot lived in just a year before. Soon enough, Denis came home and I finally got to meet the source of so many of Margot’s stories and memories from last year. We were supplied with tea, cookies and sweets, and wine for the entire night; and had a delicious chicken dinner. After dinner we looked through a photo book that Marina had from all of her vacations throughout Russia, even to Vladimir and Suzdal. After hanging around for several hours, I was starting to see why Margot had such an amazing time here last fall, this family is awesome. After conversing for several hours, we finally made our way to the next room so that we could play Uno. Of course we had to play the Russian version so I extended my vocabulary by four words, learning the word for the colors blue, red, yellow, and green. Finally after a very enjoyable night, Dennis popped his head of his bedroom with his PJ’s on and shouted in Russian that the train was going to stop running at midnight, in about fifteen minutes. So we said good bye and Margot said she would see them again sometime soon before we took the train back to our hostel for some sleep. It was a really cool experience to meet a Russian family and interact with them in their own home, something I would have never done without Margot. I had a great time there and I know that Margot really enjoyed seeing the three of them again.

The following morning, Tuesday the 18th, we had another marshrutka ride but this time it was out to see Catherine’s Palace, another summer palace of the Russian Tsars. The Palace was created in 1717 under orders from Catherine I, however in the 1750’s Empress Elizabeth found her mother’s residence outdated and had it demolished and replaced by a new much grander Rococo style structure. More than 100 kilograms of gold were used in the design of the exterior of the palace and when Catherine II ascended the throne she seized all new construction of the Palace stating her disappointment in the reckless extravagance of her predecessor. Apparently she felt differently about the interior of the Palace when she began refurbishing it during her reign.

However, when Margot and I arrived at the Palace, we discovered that the actual Palace was closed once a week, every Tuesday. So instead of going inside the Palace to see the golden Ball room and Amber room that I’ve heard amazing stories about, we walked around the huge park outside of the Palace seeing as many of the monuments and sculptors as possible. We saw the Milkmaid of Tsarskoe Selo which is a statue of a woman who has just spilt her jug of milk and was referred to Margot and me as the Little Mermaid of St. Petersburg. We also saw this really cool statue of a Knight riding next to Death who was holding an hourglass to symbolize that time was running out, and they were followed by a demon ready to take the Knight to hell. The trip out there was still worth it to see all of the statues and structures in the park so it was a good use of our time in St. Petersburg.

After Catherine’s Palace, we took the marshrutka back to the city to see the minigorod (miniature city) which is a bunch of bronze sculptor replicas of all of the significant monuments in St. Petersburg, at 1/400th the size of course.  After messing around with the sculptures, we walked over to the Artillery Museum which was also closed on Tuesdays every week, just our luck. We played around on the tanks out front and stuck our heads through the gate bars to see as much of the museum's artillery as possible before giving up and taking the metro back over towards our hostel to meet up with Chris and Ainsley.

After meeting up with Chris and Ainsley, we went to the Republic of Cats, which is a coffee shop that also has a back room full of eighteen cats that you can play with. Ainsley and I drank coffee and tea watching the Russian cat cartoons on the television while Chris and Margot experienced the cat room, whose door was also a closet. I guess the place was based around the stranded cats that used to live at the Winter Palace catching all of the mice. After they came out and relived their magical experience, we walked over to the Museum of Political Police, which was a really cool museum, or at least the small portion that was in English was really cool. The rest of it just looked really cool. After this I indulged in the very first classic American food since I had started the trip. I’ve been very adamant about eating local food and always shoot down American restaurants, but I’d literally had two pieces of toast and a small sandwich all day and was so hungry I didn’t care where the hell we ate when Chris and Margot suggested we head over to Pizza Hut. But even this turned out to be a European experience, it was nothing like the pizza hut we have back home. I thought I was in a real pizza shop, not a fast food restaurant. We enjoyed unlimited pizza and some pitchers of beer before Margot and I said good bye to Chris and Ainsley and ran to the station to catch our night train to Moscow.

Train is a relatively term when it comes to the Platzkart that we ended up taking to Moscow however. We were in a sleeper cart, which means the whole cart is open via the aisle way but subdivided into sections of six beds. Two bunk beds on one side of the aisle with a tiny table in between them and one bunk bed on the opposite side of the aisle. The bunk beds were also made for elves, sitting up is impossible because either the train’s roof or the bottom of the top bunk is only two feet away from your beds surface. And my feet and half my calf were sticking out into the aisle because the beds were so short. This was actually one of the few train rides I’ve been able to sleep on though, so oddly I really enjoyed the Platzakart. After the five hour train ride we got into Moscow just before 5 AM.

Getting into Moscow, we had to walk through another set of useless metal detectors. Going to Russia I had this mindset that security would be very tight and very common. Boy could I have been any more wrong, the security in Russia was awful. You could have walked into the Moscow train station with a bomb the size of an elephant and nobody would have said anything until you started running away screaming, “That bomb is going to blow up now!” But the funny part isn’t how awful the security is, it’s how easy it would be for them to have great security but for reason they refuse to. They have metal detectors everywhere, they had them at every museum we went to during our entire trip and even had them at the train station in Vladimir which is in the middle of nowhere. But nothing happens when you walk through and the little bell goes off, you just keep walking and then the person behind you sets the alarm off and keeps walking and so on and so forth. My entire time in Russia I saw zero people get stopped by security to have their bags checked. And the problem is definitely not that they don’t have enough workers to man all of the metal detectors because they have government employees everywhere, they just don’t really seem to be doing anything except observing. At the train stations they have these women that just sit at the bottom of the escalators and watch people come down and go up. They don’t do anything that I could see except just stare at the escalators all day long. Why not take half of these women and let them check bags at the metal detectors and then put the other half in a central location where they can use the dozens upon dozens of cameras you already have installed all over the city to watch the escalators?

After hanging out at the train station for a while, the metro finally opened, where even at 6 AM it was one of the most intimate places in the entire city. I saw more people making out while riding the metro escalators then I did going out to the bars. Heck, maybe those ladies at the bottom of the escalators don’t even work for the city, they’re just looking for a cute guy to ride the escalator with.  When we got to our hostel it was still only about 7 AM and thus the hostel’s reception was not yet open and we were forced to head to a local coffee shop that was out of about 70% of the items on their menu. After having Margot translate to the waitress,” He wants this,” with the response of, “Sorry, we’re out of that,” several times I gave into the exhaustion of the night and told the waitress that I just want some damn food, anything that is edible will do. After scarfing down my microwaved burrito thing, we went back to the hostel and stored our bags at reception so we could see some of the city before the actual check in time at two. We went to the red square which was a really cool and beautiful place to see in person before visiting St. Basil’s Cathedral.

The view from the red square was unbelievable, just the onion domes and beautiful colors of St. Basils made the trip to Moscow worth all the hassle. Just so you can understand the full extent of the beauty of St. Basil’s, Ivan the Terrible blinded the architect who created it so that he couldn’t reproduce the masterpiece anywhere else. Ivan the Terrible ordered the construction of St. Basil’s from 1555 to 1561 in order to commemorate his victories during the Russo-Kazan War. Every time he won a major victory during the war he built a wooden memorial church next to the already established Trinity Church. At the end of the war he ordered that the entire Trinity Church would be rebuilt as a stone church, St. Basil’s. So St. Basil’s is really nine churches grouped into one big one, with the Church of Intercession in the very center, the seven churches commemorating war victories surrounding it, and the Church of St. Vasily (pronounced Basil in the English language) which was built directly over St. Vasily’s grave. The churches are arranged in order to produce two crosses, the larger one with points at north, south, east and west, while the smaller churches produce a cross with points at northwest, southwest, southeast, and northeast. Each church had its own beautiful iconostasis and its own unique designs and beautiful wall paintings. I was amazed at how small the structure felt from the inside even though it appears enormous from the outside, due mostly to the fact that everything is divided into tiny churches that can each fit maybe twenty people maximum. Nonetheless, it was amazing to be standing inside such an old and historic building.

After St. Basil’s we grabbed lunch at yet another Georgian Restaurant, you have to understand how ridiculously delicious Georgian Food is! Of course we had some more khachapuri, pear soda, and I had some lamb pelmeni, which is kind of like a bunch of mini dumplings. After refueling we went back to the hostel, checked in, and passed out for a couple hours.

After getting some much needed rest we woke up and went out to see the Red Square all light up at night, which was a really pleasant site. After wandering around enjoying the views we had some more Georgian food, but this time I had elk and bear pelmeni. It was extremely delicious and I recommend eating bear to every single one of you, if those of you that are vegetarians decide to take a break for a day you should probably just place bear at the top of your list of things to eat for the day. After dinner we went back to the hostel where I intended on working on my blog for a couple hours and then getting some rest. Instead, the two Australian girls who I was making small talk with befriended the three girls who were working at the hostel, who proceded to pull out a bottle of vodka. Attempting to hide in the corner behind my computer screen, a shot of vodka was put in front of my face. When five girls try coaxing me into staying up and drinking with them my resistance levels are pretty low, so after drinking vodka, eating vegemite, and having a dance party in the kitchen/living room I slipped into our room to get some rest before tomorrow's big day.

We woke up and walked down to the Kremlin, about a five minute walk from our hostel, and watched the changing of the guards. And of course when we went to buy tickets to go inside for a tour we discovered that Wednesday was the Kremlin’s weekend day so it wasn’t open. Instead, we took the metro out to the huge WWII Museum commemorating Russia’s role in what they call The Great Patriotic War. It was an amazing museum with a grand appearance coming up the main walkway. The half circle shape of the museum building in the background was overshadowed by the huge obelisk out front with soldiers, dates, and the names of the cities of military glory engraved into the stone, topped off with a marble sculpture of an angel with two cupids flying next to him. Inside, the first hall we came upon was the hall of sorrow which was a hallway of 2,600,000 bronze chain links with hundreds of diamond tear drops hanging from them which gave and stunning appearance. The hall was lined with cases containing books full of the names of soldiers and where they died, and at the very end of the hall was a sculpture of a man praying over a dead soldier.

After this we walked through the dozen rooms containing panorama paintings of the cities of military glory where the forefront of the painting blended into actual real life replica props. Plus they had a huge description to go along with each city, giving that city's entire history while enduring the Great Patriotic War. The last hall we came upon was my favorite, the Hall of Glory which contained a huge statue of a Soviet soldier triumphantly marching up the center of the room carrying his USSR helmet.  Lining the wall at the base of the huge dome top to the building were the marble engravings of all of the cities of military glory. I’ve discovered that when it came to memorials the Soviets definitely knew what they were doing, the room was incredible. The only problem I had with the entire museum was that they barely even hinted at the fact that there may have been other countries fighting against Nazi Germany. If all of my knowledge about WWII came from that museum then I would think that the Soviets defeated Nazi Germany single handedly and then moved on to do the same thing with Japan, which was irritating.

After spending a good three hours at the WWII museum we decided to cash out and took the metro back to the red square where we went to the State History Museum. The first couple rooms of the the museum were about neanderthals and the evolution of man, which wasn’t necessarily the most intriguing subject after seeing St. Basil’s the day before and the amazing memorials at the WWII museum earlier. So exhaustion caught up to Margot quickly and she ended up heading back to the coat room to take a nap while I went through the rest of the museum. The most intriguing thing that I learned at the museum was from the description about a painting of Patriarch Nikon. Nikon grew up a poor peasant and after teaching himself to read and write, losing three children early in life, and being cast ashore during a boat wreck he became a monk and dedicated his life to the church. His role in the church brought him on frequent visits to Moscow where he met Tsar Alexei I who became so interested and influenced by Nikon that he eventually made him Patriarch of Moscow. However, after taking over as patriarch he began reforming the Russian church, strictly and severely punishing those that didn’t adhere to the new reforms. Eventually his friendship with the Tsar fell sour when Alexei I started to believe that Nikon was exercising too much power and would eventually take over rule of the city. In 1666 Nikon lost his status as Patriarch and was sent into exile. Five years after Tsar Alexei I perished Nikon was allowed to return to the city of Moscow but died along the way. I also learned a lot about Ivan the Terrible, who had three rooms dedicated to him at the museum. And after the main museum they had an amazing Treasury room loaded with jewels, gold, and silver.

After the State History Museum we went to the Arbat walking street and did a little bit of souvenir shopping before going to a Georgian restaurant that was supposedly famous but did not impress me very much. The food wasn’t very good, it was expensive, and waiter was extremely snooty and a jerk. The only cool thing was the decorations but they weren’t cool enough to make me want to go back again.  

The following day we went to the Kremlin and it was open this time. We saw the Cathedral of the Annunciation, which was built to be the domestic church of the grand Dukes and Tsars, the Cathedral of the Archangel, whose interior is covered in frescoes painted by over one hundred artists, and the Cathedral of the Assumption, which is the oldest church in the Kremlin and also became the seat of the Russian Orthodox Church when it was transferred from Vladimir in 1326. This meant that emperors, Dukes, and Tsars where all crowned at this church and even Patriarchs were consecrated here. Inside where the Patriarch’s Seat, the Throne of Monomakh which was carved in 1551 for Ivan the Terrible, and one of the most impressive iconostases I had yet to see during our Russian adventure. We also saw the Church of the Deposition of the Robe and the Ivan the Great Bell Tower.

After our whirlwind of church visits we got lunch and relaxed in front of the Kremlin walls discussing future Eurotrip plans before visiting the Kremlin’s Armory. We both got audio guides for our trip through the amazing collection of jewels, weapons, dresses and wagons. I’ve picked out a couple of the pieces that caught my eye during my visit to describe to you in my blog. First off, while admiring all of the silver kitchenware I came across a Sea Centaur that the Kremlin acquired from Augsburg, most likely immediately after WWI or WWII. It had the tail of a mermaid, the torso of a horse, and the torso/head of a man; oh and it had wings as well. It was beautiful craftsmanship and was made of pure silver, but why the artist created it I have no clue. There was also a set of two huge snow leopards from London that were actually used as goblets to serve palace guests. There was also a really cool set of 166 dishes that made up an Olympic dish set, a gift from Napoleon before relations went sour. There was also an incredible throne made completely of Ivory which was used by Ivan the Terrible. And lastly was the only two seated throne ever constructed. When Tsar Alexei, who I referred to above in connection with Patriarch Nikon, died he left three sons. When the eldest son died there were two brothers left, Ivan Alekseyevich and Peter Alekseyevich, however the eldest son Ivan was in poor health and feeble minded, so both brothers became Tsars and therefore they required a two seated throne. Since the children were so young there was a hole in the right side of the throne that could be covered up and was used to give instructions to the young Kings while they greeted guests and during certain ceremony processions. Little Peter Alekseyevich grew up to be Peter the Great by the way.

Once we reached the end of our tour of the Armory we said good bye to the Kremlin and took the metro to Kitai Gorod (Old Town) where after searching much too long for a decent restaurant we settled for this café which actually turned out to be really great. I got a lamb and a chicken shashlik, which is similar to a kabob, as well as free belly dancing performances all night long.

The next day we caught a train out to Vladimir in rural Russia. After getting in we heard the all familiar “beeeeep” as we passed through another set of useless metal detectors before wandering onto the empty streets of Vladimir with no clue where our hostel was. After reaching a dead end and letting Margot try and get directions from a lady she couldn’t understand we finally just opted for a cheap taxi ride to the doorstep of our hostel. And thank god we did because there is no way we would have identified this building as our hostel. As I was watching the taxi drive away from us I began to look around at the abandoned school building across the street complete with graffiti, shattered windows, and stray dogs before shifting my view to the supposed hostel building in front of me that appeared to be right in the middle of a renovation project. After reaching one hand up and taking a couple hopeless steps towards the fading image of our taxi I decided we ought to just go ahead and head into the dark/empty building and begin our search for the hostel. Breathing in saw dust, dry wall, and insulation we made our way up the stairs towards the sound of the stray cats that occupied the building and hopefully towards our hostel’s front door. Fortunately, our hostel was waiting for us up on the fifth floor and just like every other building I’d been to in Russia the interior was a pleasant surprise after meeting the building’s exterior.

The lady at the Vinyl Hostels reception desk, Sveta, only spoke Russian, which I think was a good signifier of how far outside of the main cities we were. So when a man named Rob from Basingstoke, Britain showed up to check in he had to use Margot as his translator in order to get through the check in process and we ended up inviting him to go out to dinner with us. We went to this place called Telega which looked pretty great from the outside and only got better over the course of the night. Rob and I listened to Margot yell the translated menu items at us while a DJ played music for two birthday parties over on the dance floor. As an appetizer I ended up getting Borsch, Rob got Cabbage Soup, and Margot got Pumpkin soup, while for our main course we all ordered pelmeni.

Then we all ordered Bear Beer because Rob was jealous I had eaten bear a couple nights earlier and this was the closest he could get during this particular meal. However, since Russian women traditionally never drink beer and we were now in a much more isolated and traditional Russian city they made a few alterations to Margot’s beer order. Instead of a mug she got her beer in a cocktail glass half the size of Rob and I’s and drank it through a straw.

 Instead of dealing with this hassle we simply ordered a ten dollar bottle of vodka. But when we tried to take a round of shots before any of our food had arrived, the manager rushed over and waved us off, telling us he would soon be back with a tray of drinking snacks, taking our bottle of vodka in the act while informing us that he would also be bringing back a cold bottle. I guess traditionally it’s also frowned upon to drink liquor on an empty stomach. So he came back a couple minutes later with this huge tray full of fish, bread, and more importantly horseradish. When we tried again to take our first round of shots he came over once again, urging us to out a spoonful of horseradish in our vodka shots. Thinking he was definitely messing with us, we told him he was crazy and a liar before Rob and I took a shot of horseradish vodka. But surprisingly it was actually really fucking good. We used an entire bowl of horseradish while draining the bottle of vodka. We traded stories with Rob and really enjoyed ourselves before taking a picture with the manager and asking him where a local club was. He told us about this club in town and we walked home to put on our half decent backpacking clubber clothes. But when we got to the club we were refused entry because Rob and I didn’t have “appropriate footwear.” It was humiliating and hilarious but we still went to bed happy thinking about the awesome traditional Russian dinner experience that we had together.

On September 23rd the three of us woke up at a decent hour before walking to the bus stop and parting ways; Rob catching the Trans-Siberian railroad east bound while Margot and I were off to enjoy the cathedrals of Vladimir. It almost felt like fall had come early in the isolated country side; the leaves were turning deep colors of orange, red and yellow while the fog settled over the landscape and the cool air worked its way into your body. The view over the town from the incredible vantage point of the Cathedral of the Assumption was stunning. You could see miles and miles of beautiful Russian forest with a river winding through it.

After admiring a statue of a Prince of Vladimir that looks out from atop the hill we went inside the Cathedral, which was the original seat of the Russian Orthodox Church until it was moved to Moscow, to see his tomb and one of the most impressive Iconostasis that I saw in all of Russia. It was amazing that the Iconostasis even fit inside such a small Cathedral, but true to the beauty that we had heard of Vladimir there was a four story gold Iconostasis situated inside. After staring at it for fifteen minutes trying to take in every little piece of intricate carving detail I started looking at several tombs, mostly of various Princes of Vladimir. The most eye catching tomb was of a Prince of Vladimir that was killed with his family by the Mongols in 1200’s. After his death the town came together and successfully fought off the enemy, winning a historical battle at the Golden Gates that sent what was left of the Mongol army home. The church then built a beautiful wooden and silver tomb for the prince and placed it in this Cathedral, where he has laid ever since. However, the interesting part was that the tomb had a glass top allowing you to view the skeleton of the Prince who was dressed up in beautiful colors and grasping the hilt of a sword laid across his chest.

The next church we went to was the Church of Demetrius, which was a small circular structure with amazing carvings into the stone of the building. We had to walk in a circle several times before we were satisfied with our view of the beautiful designs. The inside gave a history of the church but it was all in Russian, so I got no information from it but it was still cool to see some of the artifacts. After the Church of Demetrius we walked up the street to the Golden Gates, where the army of Vladimir held of the Mongols from entering the city. It was a really cool structure now in the middle of town and I enjoyed learning more about Russia’s historical presence.
After this we went to the bus station to catch a bus out to Suzdal, even more rural Russia. The ride was about an hour in a half but well worth it, the town was incredibly beautiful and very quaint and cozy. Our hostel was situated right on the bank of the river that snaked through the town where the smells of the Russian forest filled our nostrils.

Once we got checked in we made a short walk to a local monastery, admiring the old little houses with beautiful wood carvings and colorful paint designs that lined the streets along the way. The monastery was headlined by a huge very old white building in the middle of the walled in church grounds that was topped with a gold dome and of course some gold crosses. This was also the monastery that Peter the Great sent his first wife after he decided to re-marry. We walked through the grounds smelling the flowers in the garden before entering the church where service was about to begin.

There were five nuns singing hymns off to the side while the priest prepared the service by opening the heavenly doors and shaking holy water around its entrance. We decided to leave before the actual service began so as not to accidentally disrespect anyone and wandered across the river and around the towering walls of another monastery where there was nobody around to disrespect.

Unfortunately, this one was already closed for the day and would not open the following day either. Instead, we wandered down the street walking through parks and checking out statues before it started raining and we decided that it was dinner time. We ate a local traditional Russian restaurant where I had caviar and fish soup. It was a delicious meal and we decided to get a local dessert, honey blini, which was also very delicious. After dinner it had stopped raining so we took our time walking home, checking out more old buildings and houses that caught our eye. That night we stayed up writing emails and blog posts before heading to bed.

The following day, September 24th, was our last day in Russia. We woke up extra early in order to see an outdoor wooden architecture museum before making the long voyage all the way to our hostel in Riga, Latvia. We had a little trouble reading the map that morning though. Either I was incapable of understanding the map or Margot was telling me to go to the wrong point on it, the bottom line is that we ended up with wet muddy feet standing in the middle of a farm field with goats (or as Margot likes to call them, cows) wandering all around us. Did I mention that it was really cold, the grass was waist high, and the Russian sunflower seeds that I was eating were un-salted. We kept spirits high by running around looking like idiots for the others amusement before finally identifying the museum off in the distance. The museum was a collection of really old wooden churches, houses, and windmills that Stalin had ordered to be transported here from all the surrounding areas. I have no why the man did such a thing but I thoroughly enjoyed it anyways.

 It was really cool to see how the people lived and how awesome an all-wooden church can still be. I really enjoyed checking out the windmill as well and studying how the process worked a little bit more. After enjoying a traditional wooden playground we made the much quicker and direct walk back to our hostel, which took us past a weirdly huge wooden chicken and the Kremlin's Church of Suzdal.

Back at our hostel we grabbed our bags and then ran to catch the bus back to Vladimir. From there we caught the train back to Moscow, the metro from the Moscow train station to the Moscow bus station, the bus to the airport, a plane from Moscow to Riga, and at 11 PM that night we caught a cab to the doorstep of our hostel. It was an insane travel day and I’m amazed everything went off without a hitch.

We spent the following day in Riga, enduring an 18 hour layover for our flight from Moscow to Brussels. We made the best of our situation though and I left very glad that we got the chance to see the city. We woke up early and caught a cab out to this small shack building on the side of the road next to an old petrol station. Down the stairs of the shack we were introduced to an old soviet bunker, including all of its tunnels and levels it was big enough to contain 3,000 soldiers at one time. However, we were here to check out only one of the musty old bunker rooms, the one that not only reeked of mildew and asbestos but also had a tint of gun powder in the air. Margot and I spent the next thirty minutes shooting guns in an old soviet bunker. According to the manager of Riga S, Margot would be shooting at the, “James Bond one over there while you (pointing at me) will get this … this not so good guy.” Margot shot a Revolver and an AK-47 while I shot the Revolver, the AK-47, and a Winchester Shotgun. I’ve never shot a gun before so I thought it was a really cool experience, and in a soviet bunker in Latvia of all places. I couldn’t kick the adrenaline rush for at least a couple hours.

After the shooting range we went back to the city and walked around for a couple hours, seeing Ratslaukums (the town hall square), the museum of occupations (Riga was occupied by the Nazis and then immediately after WWII occupied by the Soviets), and the Freedom Monument before heading home to grab our stuff and catch a taxi to the airport. Here we caught our plane talking us to Brussels, Belgium.

 
               

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Norway/Sweden/Denmark (Eurotrip_2012)

Oslo:

      Upon stepping onto the ferry in Copenhagen Margot and I sought out our little sleeping compartment and lay down to relax. As Margot put it, “You don’t have to turn off the lights because I’m not going to bed, I’m just going to cocoon for a little while.”

     Well, approximately fifteen hours later we both groggily woke up to hear the boat’s speakers announce that breakfast was about to be served and that we would be docking in Oslo in just over an hour. Shocked that we had somehow slept for such a long period, we made our way up to the beautiful breakfast buffet under the bow of the ship, which was surrounded with windows that allowed us to gaze out at the Oslo Fjord as we passed it by. At this point I was about 3 ½ weeks into my trip and I could still count the number of hours that I’d had to endure rain on one hand. Oslo was no exception to this glorious rule as the sun came pouring down on us when we stepped off the boat and started to aimlessly wander around Oslo in search of a map. When we finally found one, we discovered that we were about 50 yards away from the hostel I was going to be staying at that night. I went and dropped my bag off there, we put Margot’s in a locker at central station, and then we went out to see the sights.

On our way to central station, we came across Parliament and the Oslo Cathedral, both of which were closed on Tuesdays so we couldn’t go inside. So after losing the backpacks, we decided to make the long journey out to the Vigeland Sculptures Park. Forty-five minutes later, we started to wander through this beautiful park in Oslo, Norway only to discover a statue of none other than Abraham Lincoln, given to Oslo by the state of North Dakota. Wondering why we just saw Abraham Lincoln in Oslo and where all the nude sculptures were we finally stumbled upon this gorgeous bridge lined with them. The entire Vigeland Park holds 212 sculptures that took twenty years to be made by only one artist, Gustav Vigeland. The opening bridge has about thirty bronze sculptures on each side, depicting everything from a child throwing a temper tantrum to a man and women embracing triumphantly. At the end of the bridge and on the other side of a flower garden is a bronze fountain that is surrounded by about thirty sculptures of various humans under a tree, possibly the tree of life. In the middle of the fountain were five men holding up a huge dish full of water that was spilling over them. After this was a huge staircase that led to the Monolith, which was a huge granite pole with over one hundred sculptures carved into it. The one hundred sculptures were all carved out of one piece of granite and depict a mass of nude bodies struggling to reach the top of the sculpture. It was surrounded by about fifty granite sculptures depicting everything from an old couple starring into each other’s eyes to a woman being ridden by her children with her ponytail being used as reigns. I could tell that the whole park was trying to tell me some kind of story but the best thing I could come up with was the story of Life. First you’re a child so the sculptures are from a child’s perspective, then they get progressively older until it ended with some very old people on the brink of death.  The men were always very stern and serious and didn’t care to be involved with their children in any way. The women were either getting trampled by their children and dominated by their husband or running around wild and free. There were also two statues at each end of the bridge, females on the south side and males on the north. These two sculptures depicted a man/woman getting attacked by a dragon, the eastern most statues always showing them limp and accepting of their impending doom while the western most statues showed them fighting violently to escape the dragon’s grasp. I wasn’t sure what all of the sculptures meant, but there was a definite theme of family and the park was a really enjoyable experience.

 

        After Vigeland Park we made our way back into the city and over to the Oslo Resistance Museum, which was located inside the Akerhus Fortress. I had never realized how involved Norway was during WWII until I went through this museum, very different from their neutral Swedish neighbors. Afraid that Norway would be invaded by Britain and the North Atlantic sea ports used against them, as well as the need to control and use the iron ore coming out of Sweden, the Nazis engaged in a full invasion of the entire country in April of 1940. They attacked by sea and by air first, finally dropping parachute soldiers and occupying Oslo in just one day. While most of the resistance efforts against the Germans failed during this initial invasion, they did slow the forces down enough for the Norwegian government and the Royal family to escape to Britain, where they would remain for the course of the war. The head of the Norwegian Nazi party, a man named Quisling, immediately nominated himself to become Prime Minister of Norway and thus made his name synonymous with “traitor” to all Norwegians. His rule was brief and tumultuous and Hitler finally forced him to step down as Prime Minister and Head of State as an attempt to win over the Norwegian congress. The Norwegians never accepted the Nazi regime or its government during the course of the war and resistance efforts towards them were frequent and large. They had several newspapers circulating the country and when all radios were confiscated by the Nazis, they used household items like telephones and even dentures to hide their secret radios. The Norwegians also participated in something called an ice front in which they refused to talk, sit next to, or even acknowledge the Germans during daily life. This irritated the Germans so much that at one point they actually made it illegal to stand on a bus if there were seats available. While most armed resistance efforts were a failure, the Norwegians retained their national pride and anti-Nazi ideals throughout the war. The Resistance Museum was also the site where three Norwegian Freedom Fighters were shot by the Nazis during the war. The whole museum was incredibly informative and I enjoyed it a lot, mostly because I had never studied or researched the Norwegians’ involvement in WWII.

After the Resistance Museum, we walked around Akerhus Fortress, which sits above the Oslo harbor and watched the sun slowly make its way over the water and the surrounding forest. It was an incredible view of a gorgeous place and made me think for the umpteenth time how incredibly lucky I was to be here in this moment half way across the world exploring Europe.

After exploring and admiring the fortress we decided it was time to find some dinner, which meant that we were in for a rude awakening. Walking down the streets of Oslo, I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone as every restaurant we looked at the menu for had absolutely nothing on their menus that was cheaper than $20. Finally we found this restaurant that was doing a happy hour deal where we could get a real sized food portion for only $23 each. We scarfed down the food and then went back to my hostel so I could grab some stuff to keep us entertained while we hung out at central station waiting for Margot’s train to the airport. I got destroyed at another game of Bananagrams, updated some trip stuff on my computer and finally said good-bye before starting my lonely walk back to the hostel. My short ten minute walk back wasn’t as lonely as I had anticipated though, when I was propositioned by about seven Norwegian prostitutes, saying no to several of them ;) They did have some very creative and informative pick-up lines though. Back at the hostel, I met one of my five roommates named Royal who grew up in New York, has a Culinary degree and recently went back to school for a degree in Business Sustainability. We talked about our separate travels for a while and then I decided to get some sleep.

        The next morning I ran into Royal at breakfast and we discussed what each of us had planned to see in Oslo. After discovering that we both had an interest in the Viking Ship Museum, we decided to go ahead and go there together. On our way out of the building we ran into a girl named Lauren who is from Sydney, Australia, has a Finance degree, and quit her job to take a year and travel the world. She decided to join us on our venture to the Viking Museum and just like that, I had two new friends to see Oslo with. We took the ferry over to the Viking Museum, which was on a peninsula that contained several of Oslo’s more popular museums. At the Viking Ship Museum, we found three ships that were all eventually used for Norse ship burials. All of the ships had since been looted of a lot of their most precious gifts, but some of the grave goods were still with the ships when they were discovered and pulled out of the water over 1,000 years after they sank. The Norse Vikings often gave grave gifts such as animals, wagons and jewelry, and one of the three ships even contained a peacock. The first ship you met when entering the museum was the Oseberg ship. It contained two female skeletons and was from between 800 and 900 A.D. It had fifteen oar holes on each side but its low sides and design suggest that it was more of a pleasure ship instead of a sea bearing ship used during raids. The Gokstad ship was the next one that I came upon and it contained the remains of one male and was from around 900 A.D. This ship had sixteen oar holes that each had covers to keep the water out when they were not being used and was used for wartime efforts and to transport cargo and trade. The last ship was the Tune ship which was built around 900 A.D. but only half of the original boat still remained. All three boats were constructed out of oak, and during this time there was no measuring system in place so all measurements had to be done by eye. Makes you wonder how they could have constructed such a perfect and incredible ship without any precise measurements. The last section of the museum was all of the grave goods that were found on board the ships. This included four beautiful wagons that were hand carved out of oak and had incredibly intricate and beautiful designs carved everywhere. It was a pretty remarkable museum.


After the Viking Ship Museum, we walked over to the Flam museum which contained a ship named the Flam that had sailed to both the North and South poles, but is most popularly known for transporting the Norwegian explorers that would become the first men to ever reach the South Pole. After several unsuccessful attempts by American and British explorers it was concluded that a ship could not survive the ice that existed there and when American explorers Frederick Cook and Robert Peary claimed to have reached the North Pole, the Norwegians set their sights on the South Pole. Fridtjof Nansen built the Fram stating that he wanted to build a ship that could hold provisions for fifteen men for six years and successfully sail to the Poles. With the help of the Fram, Roald Amundsen and four other Norwegian explorers and scientists reached the South Pole in 1911, just five weeks before the British. The entire British exploration crew would eventually die on their way back to camp, while the Norwegians survived the trip and returned safely home onboard the Fram. The museum was built around the very ship and we could get on board and explore the deck and cabins ourselves. This was a really interesting museum that I would have otherwise missed if Lauren hadn’t suggested that we check it out.

After the Fram museum, we took the ferry back over to the city and set out to find some food. Our initial goal was to ask some locals if they knew where we could get some cheap Norwegian food. But as they looked at each other puzzled and informed us that such a thing did not exist, we were interrupted by a homeless man that didn’t speak English or Norwegian and started casting a spell on us. Or at least that’s what we joked he was doing as we walked away and Lauren proceeded to trip over nothing, blaming it on the spell. Then Royal ate it and also blamed it on the spell, joking that I was next in line. I’m pretty sure we left before he completed my spell though because nothing bad has happened to me on this trip yet; in fact, it’s been quite the opposite. Anyways, we found some Indian food that was moderately priced for Norway and discussed cultural differences like biscuits/cookies before we lost all maturity and started making fun of each other’s accents. After dinner we ran into a couple from Arizona that recognized us from the Viking Ship Museum and went with them up to a “hipster” part of town where we walked around for a while and had a drink together. Afterwards, we went back to the hostel to get cleaned up and went out to grab another $15 beer before we decided to grab some sleep. The next morning Royal discovered that he now had bed bugs and spent the morning getting that figured out before the three of us went to see the Opera house. This was an incredible building that was really just one big piece of art. After walking all over the marble and glass Opera House, I said good-bye to my friends and went to the train station to catch my train to Gothenburg, Sweden.
 

Gothenburg:

I got into Gothenburg in the late afternoon and thinking that I knew how to get to my hostel I set out in search of it. An hour later I found myself exactly where I had started from after I got lost searching for the hostel and then remembered that I needed to buy my train ticket down to Copenhagen for a couple days later. The only information that I gained from my venture into the city was that Gothenburg is not a very tourist friendly town. There was no information desk or even a ticket desk at Central Station and trying to find a map of the city is like panning for gold in your kitchen sink. So I borrowed some internet with a fifteen minute time limit and uploaded a map onto my computer, copying the directions of Swedish/gibberish onto some paper. I bought a ticket from a machine on my way out of the station and set out for Round 2 of ‘Find my Hostel.’ Fifteen minutes later I found my hostel which was only two blocks away from my turn around point earlier. Unfortunately for me, my hostel was locked and through the glass door I could see that the reception area was dark and closed. Eventually another guest came out and I grabbed the door to get inside where they had a free computer in the lobby. With the power of the internet in my hands, I decided to check my emails and found a message that they’d sent earlier in the day which stated that their reception hours were from 3-5 PM and strictly enforced. A little worried, I sent them an email asking what the hell I should do to get into my room. After sending the email and freaking out a little bit, I started checking the rest of my emails figuring I had nothing better to do at this point. This was when I found another email that told me the door code to the hostel, what my room # was and that my room key was on my bed. Finally starting to relax I discovered that I was the only person sleeping in a twelve bed room for the night. Pleased with the way things had turned out I decided to treat myself to a nice dinner of Swedish Meatballs and some Swedish beer at a restaurant called Smaka. The food was amazing and I got a great night’s sleep that night.

The following morning I walked to the Gothenburg Botanical Gardens which was an incredible 430 acres (the one in Denver is like 20). It was gorgeous and even though there were like twenty school buses of children at the park I could still get to parts where I was all alone. They had flowers and plants from all over the world, a huge waterfall, and a forest area that made you feel like you were in the real Swedish forest. It was also kind of nice being incapable of reading all of the descriptions for once since it forced me to relax and just enjoy the nature a bit more. After the Botanical Gardens I walked across the street to the Slottsskogen, which means Forest Fortress and is literally just a huge forest with asphalt paths leading you through it. There was also a free Zoo in the middle, but it was obvious why it was free since they only had Deer, Ducks, Wolfs, Horses and Ponies. After strolling through the park I made my way to Skansen Kronan, which is a fort that was constructed in the 17th century to defend the city against any attack from their neighborly rivals the Danes. However, the fort was never attacked and thus the 23 canons inside have never been fired. It was still a pretty cool little fort and since it was placed on top of a huge hill it had an amazing view of the entire city.

After Skansen Kronan, I went to a korv (sausage) shop for lunch. As some of you my know I’m Swedish and so every year around Christmas time for as long as I can remember my dad, my grandpa Clarence and I have been making our own Swedish Korv, Spritz which is a Swedish Cookie, and Swedish Pancakes are made year around. All of these recipes have been passed down through my family so besides a few minor tweaks they are the original recipes that my ancestors used while living in Sweden. And since I was in Sweden, I had to compare some Swedish Korv with the stuff that we make back home. But since this was a local shop in town, they didn’t really know English very well and after a confusing conversation, I ended up with some korv that just wasn’t the same type as the potato korv that I’ve been making all my life. A bit disappointed, I decided to do some more research and try and get some potato korv in Stockholm a week later.

After lunch I walked to the Gothenburg Cathedral which was very similar to the church that I’d seen in Amsterdam, very clean and bright with white and gold everywhere.  After the Cathedral, I walked over to the National Museum, which is right on the bank of one of the major canals and used to be the Swedish East India House. This museum was really cool as it gave me a ton of well needed Swedish history. It was very much oriented towards children and kept giving me little pieces of information followed by asking me what I thought of that or what I thought that meant for the people involved, but as my Swedish knowledge is at level with a kindergartener, I didn’t mind it all that much. When the museum finally closed, I had spent three hours studying Swedish history, which apparently is rare since both the lady that had given me information earlier and the security guard kept telling me how amazed and impressed they were that I was still there. After walking out of there feeling really proud of myself, I finally realized that they were probably so impressed because they were used to ten year olds on field trips whose attention spans last about twenty minutes. Nonetheless, I’d had a long day and deserved some rest and some food. As it started to rain outside, I researched somewhere to get some great Swedish food near my hostel and then stormed the weather to go get it. But when I showed up the bartender informed me that they were all booked up for the entire night. With no contingency plan, I just started to wander the streets in search of a decent restaurant and stumbled upon this place called Oscar’s, which served Swedish food with a Danish flare. I had some really good fish that was moderately priced and I was pretty pleased with my find.
Copenhagen:

The next day I went to the Oscar Frederik Church and then meandered up the canals enjoying the weather and scenery until I reached Central Station where I waited for a train to take me to Copenhagen for the weekend. When I was in Copenhagen previously, I made friends with some of Margot’s relatives, so when Katrine and Malene inquired about me coming back for the weekend I couldn’t refuse having some more fun, getting to know them better, and making sure I’d seen all of Copenhagen. I arrived at Copenhagen Central on Friday afternoon and was greeted by Katrine and Kristoffer, who took me back to Kristoffer’s place where I was to stay for the weekend. After dropping my stuff off, we went grocery shopping nearby to get some food for dinner and of course some beer. Katrine cooked us up a delicious meal of pasta as we started to pop open some beers and Kristoffer began to explain how to play this Pirate drinking game that he had purchased in the Netherlands a couple of years earlier. Malene and Mikael (another cousin) showed up a little while later and after we were all fed and full we decided to go ahead and start playing the Pirate game which sums up as this: getting f****d in the ass by parrots, losing all your hard earned treasure to the person next to you, and a bunch of unimportant shit that meant you had to drink a lot of beer.  Needless to say, it was a lot of fun. So after everyone got well acquainted with the parrots and Kristoffer’s roommate Emil got home we all decided to go out to the bars. On the way there, Mikael said good-bye and went home while the rest of us ended up at Sam’s, which is coincidentally the karaoke bar right next to Jan’s apartment where I had stayed the previous week and whose noise had kept us up for several nights during our stay. Fortunately for us, we were the obnoxious ones making all the noise this time when I ended up singing Landslide with Kristoffer and Emil as my backup dancers.

The next morning Kristoffer and I met up with Malene to get some brunch and then we walked along the five huge lakes on the west side of the city. We ended our walk at the beginning of a canal tour that took us all over the city. We saw the Opera House, Amelienborg Square, The Little Mermaid, Noma (Rated the best restaurant in the world), The Savior’s Church, The Black Diamond, Christiansborg Palace, the old Danish Stock Exchange building, and also got to make fun of our tour guide since whenever a microphone was put in front of his face he decided to elongate every single word he said. After the canal tour, we got some much needed coffee and then randomly found Kristoffer’s bike just sitting on the street. Kristoffer had to go home to do some homework so I borrowed his bike and Malene took me to see the King’s Garden and also the H C Ørstedsparken park. After strolling through the parks and attempting to crack a riddle we’d found posted on one of the trees, we got some groceries and then went back to Malene’s place to make some dinner. She made some great Chicken Curry and then we decided to have a nice relaxing night and just watch a movie.

The following day, Sunday the 9th was my last day in Copenhagen. I met up with Malene at this huge graveyard where H.C. Anderson is buried. Surprisingly, the graveyard is apparently a really cool place to hang out in during the summer, even with all of the gravestones. After chasing squirrels around the graveyard I met a real Danish celebrity. Amalie is the lead singer of Panamah and also happens to be one of Malene’s friends. She was very friendly and also incredibly attractive: look up the music video for DJ Blues. After meeting Amalie, we got some breakfast at the Meatpacking District in Vesterbro, which has been transformed from meat factories into art galleries and hipster clubs. Here we met up with Katrine before heading over to Christiania, an autonomous piece of land in Christianshavn on the outskirts of Copenhagen that I understand as an old military base that a bunch of hippies occupied back in the day. The area is known for selling marijuana and hash, and since the sale of these products are illegal everywhere else in the country, there has been an everlasting disagreement between Christiania and the state and city governments over the legality of these practices. The area was shut down last year but I guess Christiania ended up buying the piece of land from the government and it is now up and running again. It sounds like a really complicated situation and a lot of the questions that I asked about it didn’t seem to have any clear cut answers. So Malene and Katrine showed me the whole area, from the five liter jars full of marijuana to the shacks/homes on the banks of the lakes to the Nemo stage where concerts occur. After briefly partaking in the local traditions I said good bye to Katrine and then Malene and I made the short walk over to the Savior’s Church, a beautiful church with a huge gold spiral rolling up the spire. I of course demanded that we go to the top of the Church, which Malene agreed to do despite her fear of heights. Running short for time we sprinted to the top, enjoyed the view and then took the steps two at a time on the way down. We ran for the bus and I got to the train station with just enough time to say good bye to Malene and thank her for everything before hopping on the train to Linkoping, Sweden.
 
Linkoping:

I got into Linkoping late that night and although I found my hostel easily enough, just like my hostel in Gothenburg, the door was locked and the reception area was closed. Now I’m not stupid enough to put myself in the same situation twice and therefore had checked several times how late their reception was supposed to be open till, yet here I was and here they were not. So I ended up asking a nice young couple on the street if I could borrow their phone and call the hostel, who informed me that my room was unlocked with the key on my bed and what the combo to the building was. Another tid bit of information about Linkoping is that it’s a small town that doesn’t have a huge tourism industry, so the cheapest place I could stay was actually in a room with two beds. So after I tucked my backpack into the bed next to mine I went straight to sleep so that I could get up early for a big day which turned out to be the most stressful and gratifying days of my trip.

I got up at seven in order to get some breakfast before catching a bus to Bjorsater where my great-great grandpa Johan Werner Johansson was born before he immigrated to the U.S. However, the bus schedule I had looked up online was wrong so I ended up missing the morning bus and was forced to wait till 12:30 to catch the next one. While I was waiting, I decided to make the most of my time and go check out the Linkoping Cathedral and the Linkoping Castle, the former being much more impressive than the latter. The Cathedral was really impressive and I ended up getting a bit of a history lesson of the town. Linkoping was only the second diocese in all of Sweden, becoming so in 1104. And it became a city in 1287 when the first Cathedral was built at the same location that the current one stands. The city was also the location of the final battle between King Sigismund Vasa the 3rd and his Uncle Duke Charles in 1598. By the way, in Sweden you don’t become King Sigismund the 3rd because two of your family members already occupied the name Sigismund, instead this means that two Kings before you used the name Sigismund and thus you are the third King to be named Sigismund. Sigismund inherited the Swedish throne from his father in 1592 even though he was already King of Poland and had a Catholic background. Protestant Sweden was immediately uncomfortable with the King’s faith, but nothing dramatic was done, mostly because Sigismund spent most of his time away in Poland. However, his distance from the throne also made it possible for the Privy Council to elect Sigismund’s Uncle, Duke Charles as regent of Sweden even while Sigismund opposed it. In 1598, tired of aggression from Sigismund’s loyal followers, Charles initiated military action in Sweden, finally catching the attention of Sigismund who took his army north in order to take his Swedish throne back from Charles. However, Charles defeated his nephew in Linkoping at the Battle of Stangebro, taking him captive but eventually releasing him to the commonwealth. The outcome of this battle is actually a major reason why my family today is Lutheran. It was also the main reason that relations between Sweden and Poland fell apart, ending a brief period of good relations between the countries and leading to the Seven Year War against Sigismund.


After the Battle of Stangebro, a court was appointed to judge those that had fought on the side of Sigismund and eight of them were sentenced to execution, which was carried out in the main square of Linkoping and is called the Linkoping Bloodbath. So naturally after visiting the Cathedral I went to the main square of Linkoping to grab some lunch. After visiting a buffet and eating as much food as possible, I went back to the bus station for my bus to Bjorsater. I got to the station a bit early and while I was waiting decided to copy down the email my Aunt Judy and Uncle Jim had sent me with information on my family. Ten minutes before my bus was to arrive while transferring this information, I found a huge mistake on my part. I had read the email incorrectly, my great-great grandpas MOTHER was born in Bjorsater while her son Johan was actually born in Gistad (pronounced ye-sta). I spent the next twenty minutes doing my best impression of a chicken with its head cut off. Frantically I ran to the ticket machine to see if any trains actually went to Gistad and discovered that they do; in fact, there was one leaving in fifteen minutes. I had already purchased a ticket from Linkoping to Stockholm for later that night though, so I wanted to know if I could just catch my train to Stockholm from the Gistad train station. So I left my ticket machine and ran to the ticket desk to talk to a real person, who informed that indeed I could catch the train to Stockholm from a train station that was just a stop away from Gistad. After getting this information, I proudly went back to the ticket machine to buy my tickets and finally go see the land of my ancestors. But in order to keep my stress levels as high as possible, I suddenly realized that this entire plan was pointless without my bag that was at my hostel across the street. So I left my ticket machine once again and flew out the front door of the train station glancing at my watch as I flew down a flight of stairs in one big leap before I suddenly stopped. My train was coming in three minutes; my efforts to grab my bag and return in time would surely be futile. So I made an instant decision: I’ll just get a roundtrip ticket to Gistad, coming back to Linkoping to grab my bag and catch my train to Stockholm from here. So I ran up to my ticket machine once again as the surrounding Swedish train patrons looked at each other, wondering if they were having déjà vu or if this kid was just an energetic idiot. So I flew through the ticket process glancing at my watch, the train station’s clock, and any other time telling device in a 10 yard radius. Then I made a Swedish woman’s day when she got to witness me sprint out of the train tunnel just as my train’s wheels started moving. I seriously considered putting on my cowboy pants and jumping on the back of the moving train before I stopped running and just started mumbling cuss words as the Swedish woman tried to hide her laughter. Now I was really screwed; the next train to Gistad wasn’t until 3 PM. Disheartened and irritated, I found a seat in the train station and waited impatiently for my train to come pick me up. I went and talked to my friend at the ticket desk and luckily she told me that I could just use my same ticket to Gistad on the three o’clock train. Of course the connecting stations for the one o’clock and three o’clock trains to Gistad were completely different, so I had to copy down the correct times and stations onto the back of my ticket. I successfully caught my train at three o’clock and three minutes later found myself at what I thought was the connecting train station. But this was no train station.  It was just an open air train stop on one rail of tracks. After unsuccessfully matching my departure time with the track’s departure times, I decided it was time to ask for help. There were only two people to choose from, and one of them was on the other side of the tracks, so I asked this black Swedish girl if she could help me and discovered that she barely knew any English. The fact that my physical ticket was for two hours earlier and a completely different station didn’t help but we finally figured out that my connection was not for a train but for a bus. After thanking her and hoping she understood what I was saying, I made my way to the bus station just in time to catch my bus to Gistad. My bus consisted of a cute girl about my age, an old man, a young girl about age ten and two young boys that were about eight. The cute girl got off at one of the first couple stops while the rest of us took the bus through farm country until we finally arrived at a small dirt parking lot with an automotive shop on one side and an endless field of cows and hay on the other. Surprisingly, the old man had nothing to do with the children and left in one direction while the ten year old girl who suddenly appeared to be the baby sitter took the two boys over to a small residential area. As the bus pulled away, I just there starring around trying to get a grasp on where the fuck I was.

The problem was that there was really no common area in the city where people gathered. There was no grocery store, no gas station, no library, definitely no city hall, no park, no stores whatsoever, and as I walked in the direction of the residential area there appeared to be no people either. I walked from the North outskirts of town to the South in about five minutes and discovered the only government building in the entire town, a small school. The town population couldn’t have been more than 300 people and given its secluded location everyone in the town could be put into one of three groups. 1. Retired, 2. A commuter that enjoyed living in a quiet town out in the boondocks, or 3. Employed as a local teacher, auto mechanic or farmer. As I walked past the southern city limits and started admiring the vast fields of farmland, I finally found what I was looking for, a town sign. But since I hadn’t seen a soul since arriving I spent the next thirty minutes running back and forth between the camera and the sign setting up the timer on the camera. I’m sure by the end of the day word had gotten around town that some weird kid had wandered through town and was so fascinated by their small farm town that he’d ran back and forth taking pictures of himself for an hour. Then when the Gistad townsfolk go into Linkoping to do their grocery shopping, they’ll share their story with the locals who will come to the accurate conclusion that that must have been the same energetic idiot that they saw at the train station the other week. And if fate actually does exist, then the story will make it to the oldest man in Gistad who’ll laugh and say, “boy that sure reminds of the stories my grandpa used to tell me about his neighbors the Johanssons.” 

After my personal photo shoot, I just spent a couple hours on cloud nine wandering around the town that my family came from. After covering the entire town a couple times, I found the Gistad Trail, which was this trail through the woods just outside of town that’s used for cross-country skiing during the winter and hiking during the summer.  It was so cool to come back to my family’s roots and everything that I did there was ten times cooler just because of where I was. After getting my fill, I happily skipped over to the bus stop and found the bus waiting to take me back to Linkoping. The bus driver discovered that I was American when I got on the bus and since I was his only passenger I sat up front and we chatted for the thirty minute ride into town. He was from Armenia, spent ten years living in Britain and now has a Swedish wife who he lives with in Linkoping. As seems to be the instant talking point among Americans and foreigners we talked and compared our different forms of government, giving criticism and support of each other’s countries. After this we moved onto traveling and he told me about the places he’d been to in Europe and which places he liked best. Finally we said good-bye as he dropped me off in Linkoping. I grabbed my stuff from the hostel, got some food in town and then caught my train to Sweden without any crazy mishaps.
Stockholm:

I got into Stockholm late that night and made my way through the busy light up streets to my hostel and checked in. When I got up to my room, I met one of my roommates, a Polish girl at the end of her week-long trip to Stockholm. She was incredibly nice and we stayed up talking for hours, discussing politics, education, the benefits and difficulties of visiting each other’s countries, her previous travels and my current ones, and the outrageous Scandinavian prices. She was a really nice girl and was also the only person that I’d met so far that had no desire or intention to ever visit America.

The next day I got up early in order to see as much of Stockholm as humanly possible. I first visited the Vasa Museum, which was a really cool experience. The ship itself was a magnificent sight and the story behind it is just as incredible. It was built between 1626 and 1628 during the Thirty Years’ War against Poland under the command of the Swedish King Gustavus Adolphus. The ship was structurally unsound, built top heavy because the King wanted an uncommonly high superstructure so that the soldiers on board would be able to shoot down on their foes from a higher and more advantageous height. The ship was built during a time of dramatic transformation for Sweden, as it was becoming a strong and dominant power in the Baltic region for the first time in the country’s existence. Gustavus Adolphus is accredited as being one of the most successful Swedish kings ever in terms of success in warfare. With this glory and power also came a lot of riches for the Swedish kingdom. This abundance of riches mixed with the fact that Sweden was using almost all of its resources for waging war meant that the Vasa ship would be constructed not only to defeat its foes but also to display Sweden’s power and wealth. Vasa was one of the most decorated, largest, and most heavily armed warships of its time, which become stunningly apparent while I walked around and admired the outer woodwork and gold attachments on the ship. The only problem was that Gustavus, strained for a larger naval presence due to several storms that had destroyed dozens of his warships, ignored the obvious faults with the top heavy Vasa war ship and demanded its immediate presence with the Baltic fleet. During its maiden voyage on August 10th, 1628 the ship foundered and sank less than a nautical mile out of port when it first encountered a wind stronger than a breeze. 

After admiring the ship and reading three floors worth of information on the incredible ship I set out to see the Royal Palace. First, I went inside the Stockholm Cathedral and admired the incredible wood carvings and gold pulpit. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of admiring the insides of European cathedral;, they’re all just so incredible! After stumbling around the Cathedral for a while since I had my head tilted up gazing over the amazing ceiling paintings, I walked next door to get a door of the Armory. Luckily, I showed up five minutes after an English tour had started so I just caught up to them and joined the group for the rest of the tour, which turned out to be really beneficial. I learned a ton of Swedish history and got in depth knowledge about all of the crowns and jewels that were on display there. If you showed me a picture of a random Swedish crown right now, I could tell you if it belongs to a man or a woman, whether it’s for a King, Queen, or Prince, about when it was constructed and for whom it was constructed for. After this knowledge fulfilling tour I made my way upstairs to catch another free tour through the Palace’s State Rooms. The first room was the Hall of State which used to be used for Coronation Ceremonies and for meetings of the state which the King would lead. Since 1974, the Swedish King’s duties have been simply for representative and ceremonial purposes, meaning that he has no real power and therefore that the Hall of State gets little use anymore.  The room contained a really cool throne made completely of silver that was a gift to Queen Kristina in 1650 though. Other notable rooms in the Palace was a Hall of Mirrors built with the one in the Palace of Versailles as its inspiration, the ball room (which is also referred to as the White Sea), and Gustav III’s State Bedchamber. This bedchamber has a cool story behind it because it was the very room that Gustav III died in 1792, two weeks after an assassination attempt. Gustav III was a strong willed and demanding king, restoring an autocracy that had previously been rid of. Every morning he would wake up from his actual bed chamber only to go to his state bedchamber where a small number of special individuals would get the honored opportunity to watch him get dressed. Apparently this event, which is usually an honor, was feared by many of Stockholm’s citizens since Gustav would yell and demand the approval of those in audience. Anyways, in 1792, there was to be a huge masked ball at the Royal Opera House in Stockholm which Gustav would attend after having a private dinner party. Well during the dinner party he was warned that an assassination attempt would be made on his life at the ball, but being the stubborn man that he was, he ignored the warning and went anyways. It was there that he was shot once in the back before being taken back to the State Bedchamber in the Stockholm Palace. Why he was taken to this more formal and public room instead of his actual bedchamber nobody knows, but it was from this room that he ordered the execution of his assassins as well as where he took his last breath.

After the Royal palace I walked over to see the Riddarholmen Church which had this really cool metal spire before I continued on to see the City Hall building. This was a beautiful building on the northern bank of the Riddarfjarden, which is a major lake in Stockholm. The building also is the location for the gold plated tomb of Birger Jarl, the man who founded Stockholm in 1250. I then moved on to see the Santa Clara Church, which was also marvelously decorated inside with gold, silver, and wood sculptors and engravings. After the Santa Clara Church I finally made my way back to the hostel to reunite with Margot. We went out to dinner together and the banter and jokes picked up right where they left off in Oslo. It was really nice to have my travel buddy back after being alone for a week and I made her promise not to leave me alone in Europe ever again, especially not during the next leg of our trip where I would really need her assistance: Russia. The next morning we got up early, took the bus to the airport, and caught a plane to St. Petersburg on a Russian airline.

 

 

 

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Denmark (Eurotrip_2012)


             The relatively cheap fifteen hour overnight train ride from Amsterdam to Copenhagen was anything but luxurious. The cabin we were in was simply six seats facing each other and while my fellow passengers had no problem sleeping I couldn’t get more than a couple hours of rest under my belt.

            The train also broke down in Odense, which is about a two hour train ride directly west of Copenhagen, so after sitting on the platform for an hour waiting for them to fix the train they announced that this train would no longer be continuing on to any of its remaining stops. Instead, we were transferred/crammed into a smaller train full of business people on their way to work and forced to stand for another two hours while the train made its way to Copenhagen airport where we were to meet up with Margot’s father, Mikael, her grandparents, Kirstin and Harry, and her uncle Paul. Welcomed by Mikael at the airport we were asked if we desired any coffee, which I greedily accepted. I can honestly say that before I came to Denmark I’d had less than 10 cups of coffee in my entire life, well this cup at the airport was the beginning of a coffee marathon that’s left me leaving Denmark with the ability to say that I’ve honestly had more than 70 cups of coffee in my entire life.

Margot’s grandmother Kirstin had just turned 90 a couple of weeks earlier and a birthday celebration in Copenhagen was why so many of Margot’s relatives were coming into the city and also why she was so excited to be going there. We separated from Paul and Margot’s grandparents at the airport and took the metro to Jan’s apartment to meet up with Nina, Margot’s sister, and Thomas, Margot’s second cousin. Jan had graciously allowed several of us to use the apartment for a week and also to use it for a huge party following the much more formal birthday dinner. Thomas knew that we were coming into town and thus had planned a bunch of awesome things for us to do in Denmark. However, we didn’t know about these plans ahead of time and were a bit unprepared when we arrived in Copenhagen, so things got moving a little slower than Thomas probably anticipated. Eventually we made our way to the car which was parked out in Roskilde at Thomas’ Uncle Borge’s apartment, had some coffee and pastries with him and then got in the car for a four hour drive up to Hobro where Thomas’ grandma Ingor and Margot’s aunt Helen and Uncle Jens live. The car however, had different plans for us when it decided to break down right before we were to cross the huge Great Belt Bridge that connects the island of Zealand which is where Copenhagen is to an island called Funen which is just the island between Zealand and the huge main Danish island of Jutland. Thomas and I spent the next hour pushing the car up and down the side of the road while Mikael unsuccessfully tried to push start the car in second gear. Miraculously, after we had called Danish Triple A and were waiting impatiently on the side of the road Mikael somehow got the car to start. So once again we were off but quickly found ourselves in a huge traffic jam while crossing the bridge passing right next to Aarhus. When we finally made it to Helen’s house it was well past midnight but this didn’t stop us from staying up until two drinking wine, learning about the families inside jokes, and receiving a well needed van Loon family tree for future reference.

The next day we made our way to east coast of Denmark and enjoyed a nice day at the beach. We got our feet wet in the Atlantic Ocean and drove up and down the beach searching for an old war bunker while Thomas complained about, “all the damn German’s going to the Danish beach.” We were originally planning on visiting Skagen on this day, which is the northern tip of the country where two parts of the North Sea, the Kattegat and the Skagerrak meet, but due to the unanticipated length of the previous nights’ voyage we decided to take the much shorter trip to the beach and it turned out to be a great day.

The Danish weather was cooperative, which I would soon learn was a rarity, and it was great to see the old musty bunker that six Danish soldiers were once stationed in. After the beach we drove past Thomas’ old school, which is most similarly compared to an American boarding school and then regrouped at Helens place before heading up to Aalborg for a night out. We meet two of Thomas’ old school friends there, Jacob and Oscar, and enjoyed a free outdoor concert while drinking the infamous Danish beer Tuborg. After hanging at the concert for a while we grabbed some dinner and then went bowling. By popular decision we decided to have a bowling competition, pinning the three Americans against the three Danes while Mikael observed. Unfortunately, Margot, Nina and I disgraced us all when we got annihilated three games in a row. Plus the Danish guys got a couple strikes when the red pin was at the top of the triangle, which meant that they got free shots from the bar. It was a sad day for America and I couldn’t feel more ashamed of my performance, nor could I forget how ashamed I ought to feel since Thomas continued to remind me throughout the rest of my stay in Denmark. He also became quite infatuated with Yo Mama jokes during my stay, which Margot suggests is my fault for joking around too much, but in the end it simply lead to a lot of laughs and good times at the expense of my mama. Sorry mom.

                After going to a hipster bar and learning how to lose consistently at a game called Liar’s Dice we made the drive back to Hobro and hit the hay. The following day we took a short two minute drive over to Thomas’ grandma Ingor’s house for some breakfast and coffee. Ingor seemed to me a very happy woman and I really enjoyed her company, promising to come back up with Thomas the following week and see her again. Her house was also positioned next to the Fish Farm that Helens husband Jens works on. He had just constructed a huge brand new fish farm and I thought the whole process was really interesting. Thomas grew up here and constantly helps Jens out with the farm and all of its construction so he gave me a thorough tour of the farm. It all seemed so simple the way that everything was laid out and the way they described how the process worked but you could tell that it took a whole lot of hard man hours to build and maintain the farm. It sounds stupid because it was just a fish farm but I really enjoyed learning how the farm worked.

             After this we got in the car for the long car ride back to Copenhagen and then scrambled to get ready for the big Birthday dinner in time. After changing my dress three times and spending thirty minutes doing my hair I realized that I was in fact a man and therefore it only took me five minutes to get ready while the ladies participated in these bewildering preparation habits. We took to the streets of Copenhagen in a hurry with the Danish amusement park Tivoli as our destination.

                Upon arriving at Tivoli, which by the way acted as Walt Disney’s inspiration when building Disney World, we were confronted with a new dilemma, which one of these restaurants holds 52 members of the van Loon family? We spent the next twenty minutes walking around and asking hostesses whether Kirstin van Loon was having a birthday dinner at their restaurant. We finally found the correct restaurant but we were the very last people to show up. As I sat down I found Nina sitting across from me, hiding behind a wall of wine glasses that would soon be filled one by one with expensive wine and a bunch of Margot’s relatives to my left. I quickly made friends with Martin, Peter and Mikael as we acted cultured in order to match the sophistication of our food dishes and then whispered to each other how exactly we were supposed to eat this certain dish. And thus we ate our delicious food and drank our delicious wine and I couldn’t have felt more honored that Margot’s family actually allowed me to be here. During the party Paul, Margot’s Uncle who had organized the party, kept urging family members to come up and give speeches in Kirstin’s honor which they all happily agreed to do. Margot gave a wonderful speech about her Farmour and Nina eventually gave a really nice speech about fudge and how much Kirstin loves it.

            After the main courses Paul crowned Kristoffer with the best speech of the night by awarding him a bolo tie and then everyone started to mingle. I went over and started talking to Thomas and his older brother Rasmus, who Margot and I will be seeing again in Florence, when the waitress decided to just give us a bottle of red wine. This would’ve been fine except the same waitress had just left a bottle of wine with Mikael, Peter, Martin and I at the other table half an hour ago. Needless to say, when Thomas and I made our way to the exit trading swigs of Whiskey with Helen and some family member who I can’t quite remember I was feeling pretty good, not as good as Nina but still pretty good. I don’t want this to turn into a story of debauchery and whiskey shots so I’ll try and keep the story short. We all went to a karaoke bar at the theme park where I sung My Way by Frank Sinatra with Martin and Bohemian Rhapsody with Thomas. Nobody clapped when we were finished except the group of drunk van Loons in the corner. Then we all walked back to the apartment where the “Youth Party” was supposed to occur. Kristoffer and I got lost in the city and after being told by a bouncer that his buildings wall was not a fucking toilet we finally made it back to the apartment. Shortly after we arrived all of the grown-ups decided to crash the youth party which I thought was great but the other youths agreed was just downright rude. I met Jan (the owner of the apartment), re-met Malene who is Kristoffer’s sister and Margot’s awesome cousin that I met last October when Nina brought her over to my apartment, Malene’s sister Katrine who is equally as awesome and has two kids with Peter, and the list goes on. We mingled and drank and woke up with hangovers at noon the following day.

                We said goodbye to Margot as she left with Mikael to see the Danish island of Bornholm where Margot’s grandparents met and then Thomas and I ventured out to begin our recovery from the previous night, finding an all you can eat buffet breakfast which we thoroughly enjoyed. After making it back to the apartment and cleaning ourselves as well as the apartment up we finally went out to see the city at half past four. Somehow we managed to see the Royal Theatre, the National Sandcastle Convention, Amalienborg Palace, The Little Mermaid, Frederik’s Church, Holmen Naval Base, the Gefion Fountain, Rosenborg Castle, and I experienced Danish weather at its finest, which means that I was randomly caught in monsoon-like rains for ten minutes and then it instantly got sunny again. The Gefion Fountain has a really cool story behind it though, according to legend the Swedish king Gylfi promised the Norse goddess Gefjun that she could have all of the land that she could plow in one night. She turned her four giant sons into Ox and proceeded to plow the entire island of Zealand off from Sweden which is how the island was created. Later that night when we set out to find Christiana but failed we continued our sight-seeing efforts instead and I saw Parliament, Christiansborg Castle, and the building which housed the old Danish stock exchange.

                The following day Thomas and I set out for Hobro in Jutland to stay with Ingor for a couple days. We successfully made the drive out there without any problems and decided to go mountain biking in the Danish Rold Forest which was really awesome and a ton of fun. Completely worn out we gobbled up Ingor’s Danish dinner, thanked her, watched The Gods Must Be Crazy and then went to bed for a whopping eleven hours. After waking up at noon with the day completely shot we just relaxed and I got caught up with all of my expenses and journal entries. The next day I said good-bye to Thomas as he put me on a train bound for Copenhagen so that he could prepare for classes which started the following week.

                I met up with Dane and Caitlyn in Copenhagen for some dinner and we witnessed a really odd and confusing outdoor play involving a doctor, a donkey, a guitar, and a shitload of chopped wood. By the way Dane is Paul’s son and lives in Boulder as an EMT, as does his wife Caitlyn. The following day I explored Copenhagen again except this time I was the tour guide for Dane and Caitlyn whereas the previous time Thomas was guiding me. I did, however witness the changing of the guards which was completely new to me and really awesome. After exploring the city we went to Helsingor, where Jan has his summer home and where he was letting everybody who had gone to Bornholm stay. I had dinner there with Margot, Mikael, Paul, Jackie, Kirstin, Harry, Dane and Caitlyn. I also tried Herring for the first time which I honestly thought was delicious and didn’t quite understand why people make such a big deal about it.

       After dinner Margot, Dane, Caitlyn and I took a train back to the apartment in Copenhagen. The following day Dane and Caitlyn flew back to Denver while Mikael discovered that the German airport workers were on strike and thus he couldn’t leave and instead came back to meet Margot and I at the apartment. We went to the Rosenborg Castle and this time I got to go inside and see the crown jewels and all of the different rooms. The castle was a lot smaller than those I had seen in England and although it was completely different I thought it was really interesting in different ways. For instance, the ceilings weren’t as decorated or incredible as those that we saw at Windsor Castle or the Royal Palace but the rooms were smaller and thus the ceilings were a lot closer to you as you walked below them. This made it possible to really see the detail and the carvings and engravings that were impossible to see in the huge rooms in England. The castle had lot of really cool rooms including a room covered completely mirrors and an amazing grand hall on the top floor. The entire ceiling was decorated in carvings, the two coronation chairs at the end were made out of narwhale tusks and the walls were covered by twelve tapestries that depicted the Scanian war. It was a really cool castle and I’m glad I got to see it.

                That night Mikael went to eat dinner with Klaus and Margot and I met up with Malene and Katrine to have some wine with some of Malene’s co-workers on the canal in front of her workplace. Everyone was really friendly and we had a great time drinking and listening to music with them. Afterword, the four of us came back to the apartment to cook a simple dinner of pasta that turned out to not be so simple. The stove suddenly stopped working after about ten minutes and we were left with half cooked pasta in lukewarm water. We were forced to bowl water in the coffee machine and then pour it on the pasta several times before it was finally done and we could eat. While we were struggling to cook dinner Katrine announced that she couldn’t wait any longer for dinner and had to get back home to watch her children. Just before dinner was ready Malene’s friend Nikolina came over to the apartment to have some dinner with us and thus made us four again.

                After dinner Mikael arrived back from his dinner with Klaus and the girls encouraged him come out to the bars with us. We were at the first bar until about two when we came back to the apartment where Margot proceeded to pass out and where the rest of us decided to go back out to a place called Hong Kong bar. Malene had to explain to me that in Copenhagen there are some bars, like Hong Kong bar, that never close and don’t really get busy until about 4:30 AM. Well true to her word, we beat the rush arriving at three and the bar was still packed when we finally left out the front door and the discovered the sun beating down on us.

          I didn’t realize just how big of a mistake this was until Margot woke me up a couple hours later and reminded me that we had plans to go out near Koge to play volleyball and have dinner with Margot’s relatives Kirstin and her husband Kenneth. Kirstin is part of a volleyball club so she had some of the other guys in the club come and play volleyball with us on the Danish beach which was a ton of fun. However, after colliding with my 200 lb teammate, getting a mouthful of sand, and getting hit in the face with the ball, which coincidentally went over the net and scored us a point, I have to admit I was hurting just a little bit. After volleyball we went back to their house where we chatted, learned about all the hip Danish music like Nick & Jay and Panamah, and had the most amazing dinner I’ve had during the trip so far. It was sirloin wrapped in bacon, some amazing scalloped potatoes, vegetables, and some Danish ice cream for dessert. By the way the three Danish foods that I was the most impressed with were Ice Cream, Hot Dogs and Rye Bread. My mouth is starting to water just thinking about them. After dinner we said goodbye and then took the train back in to Copenhagen. We stayed up watching a movie with Malene and then took to the sack.
                The following morning Margot and I went out to Mager Strand to have brunch with Nanna who is the daughter of Jan, and her husband Rasmus.

           They were incredibly kind and it was great spending the morning with them. After brunch Nanna dropped us off at the metro and then Margot exclaimed that her phone was gone and that she’d left in Nanna’s car. Well Nanna didn’t live too far away, like 1 ½ kilometers, so I said I would run back to the house. I spent the next twenty minutes running around Denmark desperately searching for this house that I could vaguely remember driving to, but just as I was about to freak out and try and find my way back to the metro I saw Nanna waiting for me outside her house. Turns out that Margot never lost her phone at all, it was just in a different pocket of her purse. I had to laugh at the situation but I informed Margot when Nanna brought me back to the station that I was no longer going to believe her when she said that she had lost something. I don't know if any of you are familiar with the Boy that Cried Wolf, well Margot is the Girl that Cried, "I lost my ticket/phone/money/keys." And if that was the name of her first book then the sequel would be called the Girl that Cried, "Oh wait nevermind, it's right here." The most amusing part is that she constantly thinks that she's lost something but 99% of the time it turns out to not be lost at all. Luckily so far it's just resulted in some laughs and the release of all the stress that was just created, so I have no complaints.

                When we got back into Copenhagen we did some last minute cleaning up at the apartment and then went to grab coffee with Malene and Katrine before we had to catch the ferry to Oslo. We went to this hipster coffee shop that played a ton of Johnny Cash and talked about how great the past couple weeks were and how we hoped we could see each other again soon. They walked us to the ferry dock, said goodbye and just like that Denmark was behind us and we were sailing for Norway.