Been pretty slack with my blog writing recently, but as we have now dipped our toes into the festive month of December, I thought it high time to get back on it! The end of October feels like only yesterday. The prospect of the entirety of November stretched out before me, really didn’t fill me with joy. In fact, sticking it out for two months more seemed like a big ask. But here I am, with November behind me and just 20 days until I come home. Time is certainly flying, but it’s incredible to think back to when I first arrived in Russia. For a start, it feels like it was six months ago. Every single thing about living here has become normality for me and despite craving pretty much everything about home, I dare say that being back in England could even take some getting used to. I mean, three-pin plugs? WRONG.
Ok, so I shall begin with talking about the clear highlight of November, which was my visit to St. Petersburg. I travelled with Kate, Harry and Jemma on the overnight train which left Yaroslavl at about 10.30pm and got us to SPB at about lunch time the following day. Not only was this my first ever experience of a sleeper train, but it was in fact my first time on a Russian train of any kind. So naturally, I was excited and a little nervous about what was to come. Russian trains are split into three different classes. First class is called ‘Spalny Vagon’, second class is called ‘Kupé’ which has lockable sleeping compartments and third class is called ‘Platzcart’. As students, we opted to travel Platzcart. Platzcart is all open-plan, with two sets of bunkbeds facing outwards on one side of the aisle and a single set of bunks sideways on the other side. (see inserted picture if that made no sense.) I had been told a fair few horror stories about third class travel (in the least snobby way possible). Other people had experienced really smelly, stuffy, cramped and hot carriages which carried people who had been travelling for days and days across Russia. Before I left to catch the train, Natasha advised me, in the kitchen, how you should use the toilet on the train because it’s so unpleasant. So I felt well informed and reasonably prepared for the impending doom of Platzcart.
As the four of us stood with our bags on the dark platform, the snow began to fall. Hovering with our tickets and passports ready to board the train, we eagerly looked for our carriage, but it wasn’t there. We then realised that our carriage was approaching from a little way away and would join the rest of the train. I thought this was a bad sign, and we did wonder whether this was going to be some dodgy kind of ‘add-on’ carriage. But to my huge delight, when we boarded, the carriage appeared to be a new one. With clean, blue seats and crisp, white bed linen, it was a pleasant surprise. Although I did feel slightly jammy that the train seemed so clean and civilised, I have to admit that I don’t feel like I’ve fully proved myself yet when it comes to Russian travel. But anyway, we had taken lots of food with us so sat in the bottom bunks eating, drinking, chatting and having the added bonus of the neighbouring bunks being unoccupied. It was 27 degrees though, which was a little too hot...and we got told off for opening the windows.
On the way to SPB, I took one of the bottom bunks and it was surprisingly easy to sleep whilst the train was moving. The rhythmic motion of the journey was quite relaxing, but every time the train stopped I woke up, which got quite annoying. Anyway, after a stress-free journey, we arrived safe and sound, if a little sleepy, in Petersburg the following day. I split up from Kate, Harry and Jemma because they had friends from Bristol who they were visiting and I wanted to go and catch up with my Exeter friends who are living there. So after we ate a bit of lunch, I went to meet Charlotte from Exeter. I stayed with Charlotte and her landlady for the two nights I was there. Tatyana was a lovely lady who miraculously made porridge which I liked. Her house was brilliant – full of bits and pieces and looked very Russian. Her typically Russian kitchen was great, especially because there were lots of homemade concoctions underway like a huge glass container which was somehow filtering (for want of a better word) berries and things into another container to make wine. It was brilliant. Meeting Charlotte on a street in SPB was just fantastic. She was the first person from home who I had seen for the whole time I’d been in Russia and her cheeriness and familiar face just made me instantly feel at home. The weather was much warmer there than in Yaroslavl and I found that I was able to reduce the number of gloves I wear on each hand, from two to none and not feel like my hands were breaking. So Charlotte took me back to her flat on the amazing metro! Absolutely loved being on the metro, because as much resentment as I have for the tube in London, being a Londoner I kind of feel at home when on a tube train. On the SPB metro, I got all the perks of the London Undergound, just without signal failures at Stratford. Perfect! The metro has a great system, where instead of buying tickets, you buy a coin for each journey. I don’t know why, but I found this really quite revolutionary.
We packed so much into the weekend and at the end, I felt shattered. I saw lots of famous sights, for example the Hermitage and Winter Palace, the ‘Bronze Horseman’ statue, the Church of ‘Spilled Blood’ (the one you always see in pictures of SPB with the multicoloured onion domes on top) and I walked down the fantastic Nevsky Prospekt, which is the main street. The souvenir market was also so much fun and it’s a skill in itself to be able to walk away from chatty stall owners. Coming from Yaroslavl, I was taken aback (in a good way) by the hustle and bustle of the city. It was so refreshing and exciting to be caught up in crowds again and to see flashing lights and a huge mix of people. But despite the big western influence on St. Petersburg, with European shops (even an M&S), great cafes, restaurants and a cosmopolitan feel, it is bursting to the brim with culture, history, architecture and everything you could ask for in a big city. I was trying to compare it with other cities I have visited, but I realised that SPB is truly unique. It’s hard to explain, but even with my very hazy and generally crap knowledge of Russian history, I could almost sense ghosts in the city. I know that sounds really ridiculous, but with the imposing buildings and the unforgettable character of the city, with the river woven through it, it retains all the charm and splendour that I imagine it had generations ago. In an odd way, it made me really want to start properly reading Russian literature.I went for some lovely meals with Charlotte, Tom, Emily, Dan and Lauren from Exeter and also lots of their friends which they have made on their language course. It was so nice to meet everyone and chat over good food, catching up on all our Russian experiences, especially because they are all so different!
So, the journey back in Platzcart was fine, although I just really wanted to stay longer in St. Petersburg! It was so much fun and the thought of getting back to the monotonous days in Yaroslavl didn’t appeal. But after a sad goodbye to Charlotte at the train station, we boarded the carriage again and set off home. This time we had a humungous babushka woman sitting across from us with a face like thunder for the whole time and when we opened the window (again at 27 degrees) she put her coat on. She was really angry at us for no apparent reason..probably because we were talking. But luckily she was only on there for about six hours. I took the top bunk on the way back, and there are no ladders. Those of you who have known me for a considerable amount of time, will know that I am a girl of particular elegance and agility. So naturally, I hauled myself up to the top bunk and managed to almost knock angry woman’s teeth out with my foot. Her face was so horrible that she kind of deserved it, but I didn’t dare look down after that..so just lie on my bunk laughing to myself. With the roof feeling very close to my nose, I managed to get to sleep and before I knew it, there I was in downtown Yaro, ready to tackle another week. It was a phenomenal weekend.
So here I am, at the end of that very week, feeling contemplative and quite pleased with life, because apart from the smell in the stairwell of my flat, cinnamon coated cabbage and the pile of buckwheat with liver on top of it that I ate last night, nothing is particularly offending me at the moment. I will add, as I always do, that I am thrilled at the thought of coming home, but it’s not long now. I was thinking the other day, that even though I’m excited at the prospect of leaving on 23rd, if somebody was turn round tomorrow and give me a ticket to go home there and then, in a strange way, I don’t think I’d want to go. This means only one thing- I have been here far too long.
Charlotte, if you read this at any point, then thank you for having me last weekend and thank you to all the Exeter guys for a wonderful weekend.
Всё !!
p.s. I've added a Yaroslavl weather forecast thing at the bottom of the page. This is mainly for my own benefit, but some other person might be interested as well at some point.
