The Wanderer

Arrived today in Huaraz after a short stay in Lima. Slept off the drowsiness from the night bus in the morning, and then headed out for breakfast a little before noon. It didn't take long to realize that although Huaraz is a pleasant little town, there is really not much of interest in the town itself. It is essentially a staging point for excursions in the Cordillera Blanca and the Callejòn de Huaylas. So instead of spending the rest of the day twiddling my thumbs in the tiny plaza of Huaraz, my friend and I took a short trip to the nearby Aguas Termales (hot springs) in Monterrey. For less than a dollar, you can enter the hot springs, and choose between two large public pools or 1-4 person private baths. The minerals in the water and the natural heat provided by the nearby volcanoes made for a very relaxing stay. After 20 minutes in the water, I felt any stress melt away, and I was completely relaxed. Actually, lazy might be a better description, since after the hot springs I was SO relaxed that I really didn't want to do anything but sit around. But since the hot springs are located in such a beautiful location, this turned out to be a good idea, and we sat and sipped our soft drinks for an hour or so before grabbing a bite to eat and taking the bus back to Huaraz. The weather was perfect all day, bright and sunny and clear, providing good views of the surrounding mountains. All in all, it was a good day, and a great start to my time in Huaraz.

Today Paula and I took a trip to the Ballestas Islands and to Paracas National Park. Our boat left the dock about 8am and sped off towards the Islas Ballestas with a group of Czechs, a few Peruvians, and myself. On the way out to the islands, we went around the Paracas peninsula, and at the seaward edge we had a good view of "El Candelabro", another mysterious figure similar to those we saw at Nazca, carved into the limestone hill on the seashore. There are two theories about the origin and age of this figure, but nobody knows for sure where it came from. The first theory is that this figure was made by the Nazca culture, or perhaps a precursor to the Nazcas that lived on the coast before migrating inland, making it an ancient work of art. The picture was made using similar techniques and styles to the lines at Nazca, and some claim that the figure actually depicts a cactus, rather than a candelabra. The second theory is that this figure is a Masonic symbol left behind by the Argentine general Josè de San Martìn, who fought to liberate Peru from the Spanish. This theory would date the figure to around 1820, and proposes that it was left behind by the general as a sign to passing ships.

After leaving the mystery of "El Candelabro" behind, we jetted off to the Ballestas Islands, where we saw a wide variety of avian and marine wildlife. My favorite were the Humboldt penguins, since I have loved penguins since I was a young boy. We didn't see nearly as many penguins as I saw in South Africa last summer, but it was a treat nonetheless. We also saw a large quantity of Peruvian boobies, both on land and dive-bombing for fish out in the sea. The sea lions that abound on the islands were more of a novelty for the Peruvians and Czechs aboard than for me, since we have plenty back in California, but they always put on a good show, so it was entertaining nonetheless. Sea lions always seem to know when people are watching them, and I think they actually enjoy primping and posing for the strange pink land mammals that peer at them from afar.

In addition to the wildlife, we also got some glimpses of the local economy at work, witnessing the guano harvesters combing one of the islands for fertilizer and local fishermen plying their trade. Apparently bird guano is one of the best fertilizers, so locals scrape it off the rocks of the island and sell it in bulk to local farmers and gardeners. We also saw a small boat with some local fishermen, who showed us their catch. They were fishing for rays, which they sell for about 6 soles each (about US$1.60). We were tempted to buy one for dinner, but we didn't act quickly enough.

Later, we returned to shore, had a brief lunch, and then hopped on a bus to the wildlife reserve on the Paracas peninsula. We saw a few flamingos that had just arrived on the peninsula (it is the beginning of the migratory season, and only a few have arrived so far), and then we headed to my favorite part, La Catedral. La Catedral is a natural stone arch that reaches out into the ocean from the cliffs on the shore, forming a natural shelter beneath. The tan-colored rock contrasts sharply with the brilliant blue water, and makes for a spectacular sight. The formation takes its name from the chapel that is located inside. Apparently, the underside of the formation looks like the inside of a cathedral, so local religious types decided that it would be the perfect place for chapel (despite the steep cliffs and the changing tides). Unfortunately, tourists are no longer allowed to descend the cliffs and enter the chapel -- undoubtedly due to some unfortunate soul falling or drowning in the attempt -- so I was not able to verify this myself. Finally, before heading back, we stopped for drinks at tiny fishing port called Lagunillas, where we relaxed in the sand and sipped our drinks while we watched the fishermen arrive with their catch for the day.

Sometimes I wonder if I get stupider as I travel rather than wiser. Today I managed to prove once again that even experienced travelers can do incredibly stupid things and pay the price for it. On the bus from Nazca (where we visited the famous Nazca lines) to Ica, I had my small daypack stolen from the luggage rack above my head. With as much time as I have spent in Latin America, I should know never to put my things there, and indeed I always keep my pack at my feet. However, today I was getting on the bus with Paula and a guy struck up a conversation with her and then for some stupid reason I let him handle my bag, something I never do. He put it above the seat, where it is most vulnerable, and I now realize that he was one of the thief's accomplices. Of course, I knew at the time that this was suspicious, and I actually took my bag down at one point for this reason, but for some reason unknown to any sensible person, I put the bag back up there again, so as to have more leg room for the relatively short journey.

Well, I guess I shouldn't beat myself up too much. Despite the stupidity in losing the bag, my travel experience has made me more flexible in terms of dealing with losses like that, and I am able to bounce back from them emotionally relatively quickly. And my travel experience did lead to guard all my most important things, like the camera, passport, money, etc. in a much less vulnerable spot. The worst things I lost were my biggest memory card (which luckily only had about 20 pictures on it), my spare battery and battery charger, my CDs and CD player, and some mementos from my travels. That's not too bad, though, since many of the CDs and the CD player itself were copies, and I can replace them relatively cheaply here in Peru. And I have a copy of the photo CD that I lost, which I will copy again and mail immediately to safeguard the Baltic and Sweden photos.

Now we are in Pisco, from where we will visit the Islas Ballestas and Paracas tomorrow. Paracas and the islands are nature reserves with many birds, sea lions, and natural beauty. I will give a report on the islands and on the Nazca lines soon.

Today I visited the extraordinary Nazca Lines, the enormous figures drawn in the earth by the ancient Nazca culture. The truly amazing thing about these figures is that they can only be fully viewed and appreciated from the air. From the ground, where one would presume the pre-Inca culture of Nazca would have seen these pictures, they appear to be nothing more than shallow trenches dug into the soil. However, if you pay to take a short flight around the site, the trenches transform themselves into giant pictoglyphs of a hummingbird, a monkey, a condor, a spider, a figure called the "astronaut", and many other animals and geometric shapes.
Of course, these strange and mysterious figures have given rise to several theories, including the ever-popular alien-visitation explanation. Due to the odd "astronaut" picture, which seems to depict some sort of other-worldly anthropomorphic being, and to the fact that the pictures can only be seen from the air, many have postulated that these figures were the work of inter-planetary visitors. Other theories propose that these figures had religious and ceremonial purposes, since the figures bear a striking resemblance to the pictures that shamans draw after emerging from their drug-induced trances. The presence of the many straight lines and geometric figures lends credence to this explanation, as it is believed that many ceremonies involved walking in perfectly straight lines. Perhaps these trenches were meant to guide the priests and religious processions, since any deviation from the straight path was blamed for crop failures, deaths, and any other misfortune that befell the community.
After the morning flight, I decided not to stick around Nazca any longer, since the lines are about the only thing of interest, so instead we headed over to Pisco on the coast. Tomorrow we will visit Paracas and the Islas Ballestas, a popular site along the south coast of Peru.

After knocking organized tours in my last blog, I have to be fair and admit the good things that can come out of a tour as well. The best thing that resulted from the Colca Canyon tour was my friendship with Paula, a local from the outskirts of Arequipa. Since our return to Arequipa, she has taken me to quite a few of the local haunts and introduced me to many of the Arequipeña culinary specialties. Yesterday she took me to the suburb of Sachaca, where she treated me to chupe de camarones, a local dish with crayfish ("crawdads"), fried cheese, potatoes, and vegetables in a tomato broth. Quite messy, but also very tasty. And the trip to Sachaca was worth the effort simply for the view, the peaks of the Chichani and Ampato volcanoes rising behind the sprawling city, with fieldworkers tending the fertile fields in the foreground. In fact, I may take a trip out there again today just to take a few pictures and soak up the spectacular paisajes.

On Saturday, Paula introduced me to locro (I'm not really sure what kind of vegetable it is, but it seems to be some sort of mashed gourd) and rocoto relleno (stuffed pepper), as she was slightly aghast that I had not yet sampled this traditional Arequipeña dish during my stay. Both were surprisingly delicious, and since she knows the town, we were able to get the plate for about half what it would cost in the tourist area around the central plaza. All of these dishes, combined with the chicarrón de chancho (pork baked in a wood-burning oven) on Sunday for Mother's Day, and grilled alpaca meat from the street corner, have succeeded in changing my opinion of Andean cuisine. On my last few trips, I was not impressed by too many South American dishes -- apart from Peruvian ceviche, which I love -- and I had just about given up on Andean cooks. With my local guide, however, I have discovered that there is a lot more to Peruvian cuisine than I had previously thought, and this has only added to my love for this country.

I have not really visited any of the "must-see" tourist spots here in Arequipa, such as the Santa Catalina convent or the Juanita mummy museum (the Inca woman that was found in one of the local volcanoes), but instead have had a more in-depth exposure to the local life and culture, which is the way I prefer to travel. Part of the reason I travel is to learn more about different cultures and ways of life, and I have definitely had an eye-opening experience here in the south of Peru, visiting Paula's family and getting to know the places where the Arequipeños live and socialize, as opposed to the over-priced center of town where the rich tourists and pickpockets congregate. It is possible that I will go to some of the tourist spots before I leave for Nazca, but probably not. I have to leave something for my next trip, after all...

After spending a week in Lima, I eventually managed to escape down south to Arequipa, where I have been since Wednesday morning. On Thursday and Friday I took a trip to the Colca Canyon, one of the main attractions in the Arequipa area. Usually I avoid tours like this one, because they generally cost more than doing it yourself, and they are often too sterilized for my liking, avoiding the real life and culture of the locals and focusing on a few touristy spots. This tour proved to be no exception, and confirmed my conviction that I should continue to avoid them as much as possible, but I was feeling lazy, and I did enjoy the scenery, so I shouldn't knock it too much.

When I do take the odd tour now and then, it reminds me how independent I really am when I travel by myself. Normally, when I am traveling around, I choose my own restaurants and hotels, something I sort of take for granted until I get on a tour and see how many people just accept what the guide decides for them. I have learned that normally I choose better quality hotels and restaurants at much lower prices than the tour guides do, even though as locals they should theoretically know more than I do. It continually surprises me how many people just go where the guide takes them and never stop to ask themselves if there is someplace better. For instance, when we arrived in Chivay, the main city in the Colca region, the bus pulled up to a restaurant several blocks from the main square and disgorged the tour group. With one look at the menu, I could tell that this place was nothing more than a tourist trap, with prices about five to ten times what a local restaurant would cost. Luckily, there were several Swedes and Peruvians that were of a similar mindset as myself, so we set off to find a more reasonably priced place. Not more than two blocks away was a restaurant with a set menu that cost one-tenth of the price of the set menu at the restaurant where the tour bus had left us. Granted, that particular joint was not the same quality, and we decided to continue looking, but it confirmed our belief that we could do much better somewhere else. We eventually ate at the local market, which at six or seven times less expensive was just OK, but the next day we found a place of pretty much exactly the same quality as the tourist restaurant for a quarter of the price.

This kind of thing is standard on just about any tour wherever you go in the world, but the really galling thing about tours in the Third World is how much they try to cut corners and how they will short you any chance they get. There is really very little concept of customer service and client satisfaction in most underdeveloped countries. Confirmed again and again on my obligatory tour to Tibet, and to a lesser extent on this trip, if you don't insist on getting what you paid for, and stand your ground, you will almost always get less for your money. For instance, when we arrived at the hotel in Chivay (which was included in the tour price), the hotel guy tried to put three of us in the same room, when we had been promised single rooms with private bathroom. Being accustomed to this sort of scam, I just politely insisted that I would be in a private room, and soon I was unpacking alone. Others in the group that were less firm ended up with shared rooms and communal bathrooms. In a similar corner-cutting maneuver on the trip back, the guide and driver decided that they would just drop everyone off in the main square of Arequipa instead of returning us to our hotels where we had been picked up. The guide asked people if that would be OK (in a way that didn't really invite a negative response), but I was the only person that insisted that I should be returned to my hotel. Granted, the distance was not especially great, and was probably not more than a 15-minute walk, but it was dark, I had several bags with me, and I was going to a hotel in a relatively isolated area. I considered it safer, more convenient, and perfectly reasonable that I should be dropped off at my hotel. The guide made a joke about me not being able to walk, but I stood my ground, and as we drove back to the hotel, I watched all the other group members dragging their backpacks and luggage back through the streets of Arequipa. Dropping us off at our hotels would not have been especially difficult, but if nobody has the balls to object, why not just cut a few more corners and go home early? If the tourists get robbed on the way back to their hotel, oh well.

OK, enough of the dissertation. Nobody should get the impression from today's blog that this tour agency was bad or that I had a bad time. These kinds of things are standard fare for Third World tours, and this tour was actually better than most (certainly much better than the perpetual short-changers in Tibet). The tour visited some very scenic places, and it was nice to see the Andean condors, one of which swooped right over our heads, and I enjoyed myself. I guess I just remembered why I usually prefer to do it myself. Now in the final leg of my trip, I guess I'm just getting lazy and I prefer to not have to think so much.

It seems like every time I come to Lima, someone is protesting something. I usually stay near the Plaza de Armas, the main square where the Presidential Palace is located, and there are invariably riot police, tanks, and gas masks stationed all around the plaza. This time, they went a step further and actually sealed off the entire plaza, which I hadn't seen them do before. This time, there are several thousand cocaleros in Lima to protest the government's anti-drug efforts. The cocaleros make their living from growing coca, the plant from which cocaine is manufactured, and they are upset about the government's crackdown on their livelihood. They have been marching around the streets and blocking traffic, but otherwise there have been no real problems yet.

Although the police look menacing in their riot gear and toting their gas canisters and shields, they don't really bother the tourists and are generally friendly. I generally try to avoid police in most developing countries, especially South America, due to their penchant for corruption, but I make an exception sometimes in Peru. Peru must have some of the most attractive traffic cops I have ever seen. It seems much more common for women to go into law enforcement here than in a lot of other countries, and many of them are quite attractive. Add the fact that many of them are wearing tight motorcycle pants and riding Harleys, and it makes for a dangerous combination. They are also much more approachable than police in some of the other countries I have visited, so I have actually had several conversations with the police in Lima while I have been here.

You always know where the police and security guards are in South America because they are constantly blowing their whistles. Most of the time, they don't seem to have any reason, they just blow the whistle to remind everyone that they are there. Many of them actually just wander up and down the street and blow their whistle and regular intervals, I suppose as a deterrent to potential thieves. The constant whistle blowing gets a bit annoying, but I guess it's good that there are so many police around and that they are so visible in a city like Lima.

Yesterday was quite a day, arriving in Madrid in the morning, buying my ticket for Lima to leave the next day, wandering around with a talkative Mexican and an amusing Romanian, and getting kept up half the night by the sexual adventures of some Canadians and Australians in my dorm room. The ticket to Peru turned out to be more expensive than I had hoped, since I was buying at the last minute, but it was still $500 cheaper than it would have been to buy the ticket in Stockholm, so I made the right choice in flying to Spain, as I suspected.

In the hostel, I met a Mexican guy who had been taking a political science course in Madrid for the last month, and knew all the hot spots in town. He was a lawyer for the PRI, Mexico's dominant political party, but surprisingly he didn't talk about politics all that much. We met up with his eccentric young Romanian friend, who had managed to learn very good Spanish in the three weeks he had been in Madrid, and kept us entertained with his lively commentary. We must have been quite a sight to the passing Spaniards when we were parked outside a shop waiting for it to open after the siesta: a dark Mexican dressed sharply in black (even though it was quite warm), a young Romanian in Aquasocks and shorts, and a blond American with hiking boots, a grungy T-shirt with a few holes in it, and the standard backpacker-issue convertible pants.

That night, I stayed up later than I had planned talking to the lawyer, a backpacker from Texas, and another Mexican who had just run the Madrid marathon. As it turned out, I probably wouldn't have gotten much sleep anyways. When I finally crawled into bed, the young Canadian guys who were sharing my room returned with a couple of Australian girls. Before I knew it, one very drunk Canadian and the two Australian girls had jumped onto the bunk above me and started making out. Without much ado, clothes began flying all over the place and the bunk started shaking. One girl abruptly left the room, but the other two kept at it on the bunk above me, not making any effort to disguise their activities from me and the other guy trying to sleep in the room. Luckily, after they were done, they went off half naked the shower, and I thought that maybe I could get some sleep. However, then the other Australian girl came back into the room and started talking with the other guy sleeping on a bed nearby. She soon admitted to us that she had already had sex with the drunk Canadian downstairs in the basement, and that she left the room so that her friend "could have some fun, too". We finally had to kick her out when she tried to have sex with the drunk guy once again after he returned from his shower with her friend. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep, especially since the Canadian guy stayed up for at least another hour telling us how drunk he was. I have a picture of him in his inebriated state, and I am half contemplating posting it on the internet for a little revenge.

Today I spent all day on the plane, leaving Madrid for Newark, then connecting to Lima, and arriving close to midnight, almost 24 hours after I had woken up (from the few hours of sleep I had between dorm-room porno performances). So after all that craziness, I am happy to be back in Peru again, where I can relax a little and enjoy my private room.

Today I spent the day with my fourth cousin, an amiable 40-something man I had never met before Thursday. Ola, a fireman and part-time stone worker (he designs jewelry, golf clubs, candlesticks, and other ornamental objects from Porfyr, a semi-precious stone), took me for a tour of the Karlstad area and gave me a tour of his fire station. I had mentioned to him earlier that I was always interested in firefighting, so after the tour he took me up in the ladder truck and we got a bird's-eye view of the city, and then he piled me into fireman's garb and took a bunch of photos with me in front of the firetruck. Very cheesy, but fun nonetheless. Ola is a great guy, and I think he had as much fun as I did, showing me around and explaining all the firefighting equipment that he was partially responsible for buying.

My Swedish experience has taken a dramatic turn for the better now that I am with family here in Karlstad. Not only am I escaping the high prices of Sweden, but my distant relatives are helping me track down my roots here in Varmland. I am served delicious home-cooked meals every night (a treat after surviving off bread and cheese from the grocery store for awhile), and my relatives (from my mother's side of the family) are helping me track down my great-great-grandparents' (from my father's side) "village", if you can call it that. It was actually composed of two farms! I guess that comprises a town in rural Sweden, since it has a name and it is clearly marked on the map. It was lucky for me that my relatives contacted the local emigration/kinship office to help me track down the village/farm, because there are many village/farms with the same name in Sweden. In fact, we originally thought that Vastana (pronounced VES-ta-noh) was near Ransater, but after the investigations at the kinship office, it turned out that they were actually from a different Vastana, in Vase. We also located the birthplace of my great-great-grandfather, and found three or four possible Oknas, where my great-great-grandmother was supposedly born. I will give you the whole story in a newsletter, as it was an entertaining adventure.

I had a rough introduction to Sweden, and I'm not real impressed with the organization in my ancestral homeland so far. When I stepped off the ferry in Stockholm, there was absolutely no place to change money, which left me far from the city center with no way to get money. In nearly every other country that I have been to, and certainly every developed country in Europe, there has always been a place to change money at international ports and points of arrival, so I was greatly surprised and more than a little disappointed that Sweden was so disorganized. When I asked a woman at the ferry office where I could change money, she replied, "In the town center." So I asked her how I was supposed to get to the town center with no Swedish kroners for the bus, and she just shrugged and looked away, signaling the end of the conversation. Luckily, the bus driver was more friendly and understanding, and let me get on without paying, and hence I was able to get to the center of town and change money.

The prices here were a shock after the Baltics. The dorm bed at the hostel where I stayed cost $25/night (without breakfast, I might add), and that's after paying $23 for the hostel card (without the hostel card, it costs about $31.50/night). And for that outrageous price they expect us to clean our own rooms and bring our own sheets! A single bus ride costs $4, so I walked everywhere instead. Luckily Stockholm is a compact city, so I could get around pretty easily.

Today is my last day in Riga, and my last day in the Baltics, for that matter. Tonight I set sail for Sweden, where my family's roots are waiting....I thoroughly enjoyed this unexpected detour into Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, and I am glad that fate steered me in this direction. Now I have some interesting exploring ahead of me in the Swedish countryside, and then it's on to South America, where my journey will draw to a close. I am looking forward to warm weather again, and being in a familiar place. I think I am definitely missing home, and I am ready to return to the US, but South America will be a good transition phase for me, to let me ease back into the familiar. I'm off to do some last errands and head to the boat in a few minutes, so I'll sign off for now, but I'll let you know how the investigation into the Westin heritage goes...

I am enjoying my time here in Vilnius so far, relaxing a little and catching up on some things I have been meaning to do for a while. I have taken a couple of short trips, one to Trakai, the medieval capital of Lithuania that is now a quiet lakeside village with a beautifully restored castle. The castle is located on a small island that is linked to the mainland by wooden footbridges, and swans and yachts ply the waters surrounding it. Although I'm sure that nearly all of the visitors to this small town are daytrippers from Vilnius, it strikes me as a nice place to relax for a few days, especially in the late spring and summer, when the weather begins to warm up again. I had lunch at a pleasant little cafe at the water's edge, with a partial view of the castle. I'm sure that all of the restaurants along this stretch of the lake are packed in the summer, but there were few tourists in town when I visited on Tuesday, and the cold wind kept them away from the open deck where I sat, so I had the place to myself.
Yesterday I also made an afternoon trip out to Kaunas with my friend Jordana, who used to study there. We had a good time exploring the old city and the ruins of the castle, adding a short visit to the military museum for good measure. I was also reminded that sometitravelerslers find it easier to navigate in a foreign country than locals do to get around their own country. Perhaps that is because we are used to being on the road and spending lots of time on public transportation to new and different places, while locals are just used to their daily routine and rarely have time to explore their own cities and the rest of the country. This always strikes me as odd, but maybe my perspective has been altered by so much time away from home. Regardless of the reason, I still find it strange when I am leading my local friends around and showing them how to travel in their own country. If this sounds sort of vague doesn't make sense to you, I'll try to explain it in more detail in a future newsletter.
Tonight I will take in the Lithuanian Ballet's production of "Russian Hamlet", which promises to be quite interesting. Jordana, a former ballerina, has already seen it once, but judging by her excitement to see it again, I anticipate a good show. The ballet was written by the highly acclaimed Boris Eifman, and I am anxious to see his work, which diverges substantially from classical ballet and incorporates many other modern dance styles.

I arrived in Vilnius, Lithuania yesterday after taking the afternoon bus from Riga. I arrived almost an hour EARLY, which rarely happens on public transport, especially when you are crossing borders. I attribute it to the surpisingly simple border crossing and the fact that the bus company must have allotted more time to wait at the border. So far, the borders in the Baltics have been the easiest I have ever experienced outside of Western Europe. I arrived so early that my friend was not even at the station to meet me yet. I almost thought that we must have changed time zones, since Lithuania didn't used to observe daylight savings, and I thought that perhaps that accounted for the time difference.
Today my friend Jordana gave me a tour of Vilnius, taking me for a walk around the Old Town, the biggest in Eastern Europe. Most of the businesses and museums were closed for Easter (most of the Baltic countries take Monday off as well), but we had a pleasant walk around the area, with few people and even fewer cars. The sun peeked through the clouds about noon or so, and the weather warmed up a little, which was nice.
The Baltic states have a great fondness for sour cream in their food, which is a pleasant change from the mayonnaise in Russia and other parts of Europe. Granted, Russia uses quite a bit of sour cream as well, but they use it more as an ingredient than a condiment, whereas in Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, it is used as a condiment for just about everything. It may not be especially healthy, but it tastes good. This may be just a personal taste issue, but I much prefer it to the mayonnaise and ketchup that most of the rest of the world slather on their food.
Tomorrow I plan to visit the ancient Lithuanian capital of Trakai, so I'll have more for you then...

Well, I guess it had to happen eventually. After spectacular weather in Estonia, I arrived in Riga to find clouds and rain. And with Easter weekend upon us, nearly all the museums and other attractions are closed, which limits my inside options. The good news about rainy days in the Baltics is that all of the movies at the cinemas are in their original language (most of them are American films) with subtitles, so I can go to the movies without a problem.
Today I visited some of the few museums that were open (all but one are closed tomorrow, and about half of them today as well), and did some travel errands, arranging transport to Vilnius and Stockholm and doing a little planning. I will be heading down to Vilnius, Lithuania tomorrow to visit a friend there for awhile, but I will return to Latvia next weekend to catch the ferry to Stockholm.
Crossing the border from Estonia to Latvia was one of the easiest places I've experienced in awhile. The border guard just comes on the bus, collects everyone's passport, leaves, stamps them, and then off you go. And they even did both Estonian and Latvian immigration together, so there was only one stop. It's nice to be back in efficient Europe again. Hopefully the Lithuanian border is just as easy.
At the art museum today, I had to bite my tongue when I started to question the ticket lady about selling me two tickets instead of one. I guess I have been to so many countries this trip where you have to watch every move people make (especially those that are selling you something), and it is hard to lose the habit. So far in the Baltics, I haven't felt like that was necessary, and everything seems honest and straightforward. So I have to try to rein in my tendency to question everything. I can't afford to lose my edge, thought, as I will be back in South America in a few more weeks. You almost have to have an entirely different travel style and personality when you change from Europe or North America to the developing world. If you use your Third World travel style in Europe or North America, you will probably not make too many friends, and you might get yourself into trouble. On the other hand, if you employ a First World travel style in Africa, South America, or Asia, you will pay four times too much for everything, get robbed a few times, and maybe end up in jail or the hospital.
I can definitely see why people are starting to discover the Baltic states. They have all the modernity and sophistication of Western Europe, and yet they retain an Old World charm that has all but disappeared in the more common European destinations. While they are not as cheap as Eastern Europe, they certainly carry a lower price tag than Scandinavia or the Mediterranean. It seems that a very high percentage of Estonians and Latvians are multi-lingual, which makes traveling easier, and many of the accommodations and restaurants are of high quality and good value.
I'm hoping for sun tomorrow, in which case you won't hear from me until Vilnius, but it's gloomy again, you may very well get another report. Have a good weekend.

Last night and today have been about sampling the local Estonian culture here in Tartu. Last night, my friend Triin took me to a local club, where the student population of Tartu was partying hardy, even though it was only Wednesday night. We took off at around 1am, since she had class early the next day, but the place showed no sign of slowing down. It was interesting to observe that in Tartu, unlike in most places, the girls in the club greatly outnumbered the boys. Good to remember.
Today, I got a little more refined version of the local customs as I visited the Estonian National Museum and the Tartu Art Museum. The National Museum has a permanent collection of items relating to Estonian culture and history, mainly dealing with early peasant life, as well as visiting exhibits. The visiting exhibits today were rather sparse, but the permanent collection was quite interesting, with numerous examples of traditional clothing and extensive explanations in English of customs and beliefs. The Art Museum was also worth a visit, as it has an interesting collection of Soviet socialist propaganda posters and Estonian art from various schools and styles. The Estonian art is arranged according to styles, such as realism, impressionism, surrealism, pop art, etc.
In a few minutes, I am off to the tiny town of Palamuse, population 600, where I will spend the night with Triin's family. Then I will head down to Parnu tomorrow, on the Baltic coast, where I will spend one day before venturing down to Riga, Latvia. Gotta go catch my bus, so I'll catch you later!

I arrived yesterday in Tartu, a university town about a quarter of the size of Tallinn. It is a quiet town on the banks of the Emajõgi River, with a more laid-back atmosphere than the capital. I have a friend's couch to stay on here, and access to the internet, so things are cheaper and life is good. I'm taking advantage of the internet access to plan my travels here in the Baltic states, and figure out how I will get to Sweden. At the moment, I am leaning towards a ferry from Riga, Latvia to Stockholm.
I am constantlysurprisedd at people who are willing to accept less than they deserve or less than what they have paid for. This issue came up again yesterday when I was out to eat with several young Estonians. When the orders came at the restaurant, three out of the five dishes were not prepared as they were ordered, either lacking something or having a different sauce than was ordered. The three people with the wrong order were obviously displeased, but they were reluctant to say anything or ask for a change. I suggested that they merely ask the waitress to add the toppings they desired (these changes were not difficult things to do, and would have taken all of thirty seconds), which they agreed was a good idea. Yet they did not do anything, and instead grimaced and ate their food as it was. I experienced the exact same thing with the group in Tibet, albeit on a much larger and more expensive scale. I don't know whether it is because people are accustomed to getting screwed or because they just don't want to hassle with it that they don't stick up for themselves, but I can't imagine it makes them happier to have to accept less. It would have been very easy to ask for the correct orders, but I have learned from my experiences with the group in Tibet that it is a thankless job to try to help people who won't help themselves. So unless it affects me directly, I don't want to interfere. Luckily, my order was correct, so I just enjoyed my meal and let it go. But I see this all over the world, especially when Europeans or North Americans aretravelingg in Third World countries (Estonia is not a Third World country -- these things happen in Europe and the States, too), that they just figure that the country is poor and the culture is different, so they should just accept it. I don't see why I should have to accept less than I agreed on. I am very flexible in terms of the quality and type of food and accommodation that I experience when I travel, but I always know what I am getting and settle on an appropriate price for it. So I am not saying that you should expect First World quality and service wherever you go, because you will be sorely disappointed if you do, but you should expect to get what you paid for. In many countries, people will make every effort to cut corners and give you less, so that they can pocket the profit (this is not the case here, but it definitely was in Tibet), and if you don't stick up for yourself, they will just keeping cutting until the service or product you receive is only a fraction of what you agreed on and should have received. This also happens in Europe and North America, but is more often a result of laziness or indifference rather than greed and a deliberate attempt to short-change the customer.
Please note that this rant should not reflect poorly on Tartu, as it is a very nice town, and Estonia in general is not a problem -- it just happened to bring up an issue that I have noticed on many occasions during this trip and previous excursions.

Estonia has a much nicer smell than most of the countries I have been in lately. I noticed this yesterday as I was walking around the Old Town of Tallinn. The air is crisp and clean, and smells like you are in the mountains rather than the city. Occasionally, you catch the scent of cinnamon and sugar from the stands selling coated almonds near the main square. This is a nice change. Russia was a lot better than India (not that difficult), but still not a pleasant experience for the nose, and Finland, although quite clean, was too cold to smell anything. Now that my nose has defrosted, I can appreciate the aromatic sights as well.
Estonia is definitely not a budget country, but it is much cheaper than Finland, a country that was a shock after three months of budget travel in Asia. I found a hostel here for about $11, and I have my own room, even though I paid for a dorm room (there is practically nobody there). You can also find cheap food if you hunt for it. Much cleaner and more modern than Russia, even though Russia was really clean and modern for a country with such a bad economy. I guess I would say Russia is probably about a Second World country, if there is such a thing. Estonia is definitely First World, and one of the more expensive places in Europe. I think Lithuania is supposed to be cheaper, but Latvia is about the same as here (at least according to the guidebook). Luckily, I have people I can stay with in Tartu and in Vilnius, so that should defray costs quite a bit. Accommodation, as always in Europe, is the most expensive thing.
Today was spent making travel plans, buying a bus ticket, getting my photos burned to a CD, and experiencing my first annoying hassle in awhile. The hostel I am staying at has a big group of people coming in tomorrow, so I will head off to visit a friend in Tartu, in southeast Estonia. I debated trying to go over to the island of Saaremaa, but I would rather travel at a little more relaxed pace, and I would have to rush if I went there first, so I decided against it. So I bought my ticket to Tartu, which was quite reasonably priced, and in doing so discovered that the bus station is a long way away from my hostel and the center of town. I forgot that there was a bus, so I was walking for awhile. I'm not sure exactly where the bus stop is for the hostel, so I have to go back on the No. 17 bus (not the one I usually take) to figure it out for tomorrow. Anyways, that's not what I really wanted to talk about.
Today I discovered that problems with the locals do not always go away in developed, modern countries. I spent a little while this morning trying to find a photo shop to download my photos and burn them onto a CD. I went into one of the larger chain stores I had seen around, and they said they could do it, but I wouldn't get it back until 7pm tomorrow, which will be too late. Besides, if it takes that long, then I knew they must be farming it out to someone else, so I asked them where I could do it faster. They directed me to another one of their shops about 10-15 minutes walk away. So I go there and I am told that it will be no problem, I can get the CD back in two hours. That sounded better, so I asked the price (ALWAYS ask the price first!), and the girl said 40 krooni, which is about $3.30, so I said OK. It's not as cheap as India and China, but I didn't really expect it to be. Then I remembered that I should make two copies, so I bought another CD for about $0.65. Then I hand over my memory cards and leave to go buy my bus ticket and do some e-mail. Well, when I came back, I was given back my memory cards, and she girl set the CDs on the counter and rang me up. I was more than a little surprised to see 120 Kr on the register, since I had been told 40 (plus the CD, so 48). I mentioned this, and was told that it was 40 for each of my three memory cards, even though they were all on the same CD. I protested and said that I was quoted a price of 40 for the process, not for each separate memory card. I tried explaining to them that it was the same amount of information being transferred, whether it was on three cards or one (if I had a 1GB card, then it would have been more information, but only one card instead of three). They told me "We had to put three different cards in, so it was more work." Bullshit. I have had CDs made from my digital camera on three or four continents and several countries, so I know what the price should be, and I told them so. So I told them that I didn't want the CDs if they were going to charge me that price. They then told me that I MUST buy the CDs, because they had already been burned. They threatened to call the police, and refused to take my 48 Kr. This threat might work with normal tourists, but I have listened to this crap in so many places that I am immune. Not that I was going to stick around and talk with the police, since I don't know how corrupt or honest Estonian police are. Luckily, I had already taken possession of my memory cards, so I just walked out.
I took my memory cards down the street and into a smaller shop with two friendly sales clerks. They happily downloaded my photos for half the price that the original place wanted to charge, and they only took 20 minutes instead of two hours. I was happy that the second experience with a photo shop was so easy, since it confirmed my belief that most Estonians are competent and friendly. I don't really think that the first photo shop was trying to rip me off, as they do in many countries, but it was probably more a case of language problems and not really knowing what they were doing. Oh well, the worst thing that came out of it is that I lost one CD and my CD case, that got left in the first photo shop. That's about $1.50, so I didn't really want to try to stick around and get them back if they were going to make problems.
I'll sign off for now. More from Tartu later.

Well, the last couple of days were too hectic to update my blog, so it's time to catch up. I crossed the border from Russia to Finland on Friday morning, and then spent Friday and Saturday in Helsinki with my friend Maija before taking the ferry to Estonia. I arrived in Tallinn, Estonia this morning, and have been exploring the old city on foot for most of the day.
The ferry was a great deal, by Northern European standards. I paid 20 euros (~$25) for the international passage and a berth for the night (the crossing only takes 3 hours and 45 minutes, but you can spend the night on the boat and disembark in the morning -- better than arriving late at night in a strange city), which is quite inexpensive for travel in Scandinavia, especially when you consider that a dorm bed in Helsinki would have cost the same amount. The ticket agent warned me that this was an inside berth with no window and a shared bathroom, apparently thinking this would be strange for me. In reality, it was much more comfortable than most of the trains I have been on lately (except that I didn't have a view), and there were showers -- a luxury! Compared to most of the boats I have been on in South America, Africa and Asia, this was a luxury liner, with clean sheets, towels, shampoo in the immaculately clean showers, and clean toilets with soap and toilet paper. I know that much of these things sound like ordinary and umimpressive things to those of you who are used to traveling in Europe and North America, but believe me, they are not standard fare in most of the world. I had the four-person berth to myself, so I had plenty of room for my luggage, and I could confidently leave the cabin and wander the ship, since I was the only person with a key. And I actually paid for a round-trip, so I suppose I might have been able to sell the return trip to someone and get a few bucks back, although I didn't really make much effort to do so.
I'm not sure of my exact schedule yet, but I think I will go over to Tartu on Tuesday to visit my friend Triin. I am also considering going out to the island of Saaremaa before going to Tartu, but I'm not sure yet. Either way, I will depart Tallinn on Tuesday, as the hostel I am currently staying in will fill up and there will no longer be room for me.

Phunny phrasebook saying of the day: "The scientists and sages are teaching that 'To know one language is like to add one eye'"

When I first arrived in St. Petersburg, I was sharing a room with 7 Europeans who had just popped over from a youth conference in Estonia. They were all quite young, between 17 and 22, I would guess, with the exception of the adult advisor, who was in his forties. They all spoke English and we had a good time, although I didn't get much sleep at night, since they were usually up until 3 or 4 in the morning. But all in all, I enjoyed their company and may even go to visit some of them in the coming weeks.

Yesterday, however, the cheerful, English-speaking Europeans went back to Talinn, and I was left with a new roommate, a strange, talkative, salt-of-the-earth Russian guy. The room now smells like smoke and sardines, and the guy won't stop talking to me, despite the fact that he speaks no English, and I have told him several times that I don't speak Russian. He seems like a reasonably nice guy, but I'm not sure he's all there upstairs. He seems to keep trying to get me to go out with him, come eat in the room, or watch television, despite our lack of a common language. He also pantomined an odd story to me the other day (complete with Russian commentary), which consisted of him holding his hand up about eye level, and then doing several hip thrusts with his fists out in front of him, and pointing off in the distance. I interpreted this to mean that he missed having sex with his wife, because she was far away (and apparently she is short), and he was here in this big dorm room. Of course, I have no idea what he actually said, but that's the nearest I could figure out. He kept talking, though. Luckily, after I left the room for a little while, he passed out on the bed and I had a few moments of quiet. Unfortunately, I can't go to the common room or the hall for peace and quiet, because there is a Russian school group here that wants to run up and down the hall screaming my name and shaking my hand.
I am hoping that when I return to the hostel tonight that he is fast asleep again, as he was last night. Last night, after failing to persuade me to join him for a drink, he sat in our room and drank straight from the bottle, eventually falling into a deep sleep sprawled across his bed, completely clothed, with his feet dangling off the side, completely oblivious to everything around him. I just hope this guy isn't suicidal or anything. He does have a friend (or maybe two, it's hard to tell), who comes in unannounced, but I have no idea what they get up to all day. I think he might be a lawyer, and he doesn't seem to be here for vacation, so I'm not really sure what the story is. I'll let you know if I find out anything else.

I spent all yesterday and today wandering the endless halls of the Hermitage here by the banks of the Neva River. In fact, I am in the Hermitage as I write this, since the internet cafe inside the museum is for some reason cheaper than the places outside on Nevsky Prospect. This seems rather strange, since everything else in the museum is triple or quadruple the price of what it would be outside. I have seen very few foreigners using these computers, which leads me to believe that the pricing system I mentioned a couple of days ago in regards to tourism in Russia also applies here: if foreigners use it, it will be expensive, but if only Russians use something, then it will be cheap. Either way, it is convenient and has a good connection.
This museum is so big that I am constantly getting lost among the interconnected halls and passageways. It doesn't make it any easier that no floor plans are provided. I discovered today that you could print out route maps from the computerized guide in the main lobby, so I have a handful of papers detailing my path to several different collections. The odd thing about the guide is that it won't let you print out a general floor plan, and instead you have to print out a separate map and directions for each collection you want to visit. This doesn't make much sense to me, but it's better than no information at all. It would seem much easier and more cost effective to just provide a general floor plan, rather than have people printing out ten different maps to go to all the things they want to see. Especially since probably everyone prints out the directions to the Michaelangelo exhibit, which is only one statue in one room of the entire museum. But I don't think there is any planning, just a vague idea that they want more tourists. Build it, and they will come. Hmmm...well, people will still come to the Hermitage regardless, but why not make things easy?
I will probably return for at least a part of the day tomorrow, since I still have a handful of maps to go through, and I haven't tired of this fantastic art extravaganza yet. I think the amazing variety of works is what enables me to keep coming back and not get jaded or have my eyes glaze over at more and more art. That usually seems to happen in museums and churches after awhile, and you don't want to see any more. But every time I enter a new room here, there is an entirely different exhibition, which keeps things fresh and new. I usually don't take pictures inside of museums, but there have been quite a few pieces of art here that have piqued my interest and spurred me to take out the camera, so there when I get back I will have some samples to put up on my website for you.

As a sequel to my Russian bureaucracy message, I will relate to you the events that transpired recently in Novosibirsk when I stayed at the train station hotel. When I checked in, I was asked by the clerk how long I planned to stay. I told her that I would probably stay two nights, but I wasn’t sure. She asked me to pay the two nights ahead of time, and I did, not thinking that I would leave before then. As I learned later, however, not only should you not pay for more than one night at a time in Russia, you also have to ask whether it will be a problem to stay longer.
Later that day, when I went to arrange my onward ticket, I discovered that I would not be able to get a ticket for the date I desired. As a result, I had to leave a day earlier than I had originally planned. So, having discovered this the same day that I checked into the hotel, and well before I entered my second night, I returned to the hotel for a refund on my second night, which I would not use. The clerk just looked at me and said, “No”. “What do you mean, no?” I asked. “I will not be staying a second night, so I would like my money back.” The clerk then told me some BS about the money having already left, and not having the money. I told her that someone else must have checked in, and that there was certainly money to pay me, to which she replied that no refund was possible. So I asked her who I needed to talk to in order to get a refund. Blank stare. “Can I see the manager? Can she give me a refund?” Maybe.
So I take my train ticket and my hotel receipt up to the manager’s office on the next floor. Neither the receptionist nor the manager speak English, but I point out the dates on my receipt and the date on my ticket, and the manager quickly grasps the situation and tells the receptionist to give me my money back. Easy as that. So we go back downstairs again and tell the desk clerk that I need a refund, which she seems miffed about. I am told to wait and they pull out the register and change a few things. I realized as I was sitting there that the only real reason that the desk clerk wouldn’t give me my money back is because she was lazy and didn’t want to make the changes in the book and fill out the appropriate papers. The easy answer was just “No”. And she was the only one in the hotel that spoke English, so I guess she figured I could never complain. In the end, I got my money back and had to sign some hand-written confession in Russian, completely unaware what it was for, but I assume it was for their records.
I find that this happens a lot in countries all over the world, including my own country. If someone doesn’t know how to do something, or just doesn’t want to for some reason, they just say no, or that it isn’t possible, even if it is obvious that that is not the truth. Just remember that in these situations, no is never final, especially if you have patience and think of solutions for yourself (don’t count on them to think of them for you, because it won’t happen).

St. Petersburg is definitely more laid-back and enjoyable than Moscow, and so far I like it a lot. There are not so many "must-see" sights here as in Moscow, with the exception of the Hermitage, but it is a nice place to wander around, people-watch, and just soak up the atmosphere. The canals and water-ways criss-crossing the city definitely add to its charm and beauty, and I have enjoyed ambling down the various promenades and over the bridges. One of the best parts of St. Petersburg is that the Hermitage, one of the world's best art museums, is free for those with a student card, so I plan to visit there at least two or three days. It has such an expansive collection that you could spend weeks there. I think there was some crazy fact like if you spent an hour perusing each painting in the Hermitage's collection, you would be there for about 14 years! I'll have to check on the exact number of artworks in the collection, but I think it is in the several millions. And it's free! What a change from Moscow.
I visited the Naval Museum today, and also wandered through the Aurora, the ship that fired the shot that started the October Revolution of 1917. As with pretty much all of the museums I have been to in Russia, there is very little or no information in English, so I didn't gain a whole lot of knowledge about the Revolution, but there was an interesting display of revolutionary paraphenalia and flags.
Tomorrow I plan to make my first visit to the Hermitage, so I'll give you a report when I emerge. I'll also send out another Russia e-mail. I'm trying to space them out so that I don't just flood your inboxes all at once.

Well, I arrived in St. Petersburg early this morning, and found my way to a decent hostel, a little off the beaten track. This hostel wasn't mentioned in the guidebooks, for some reason, but it is the best value hostel I have found in Moscow or St. Petersburg. After a full day of museums yesterday (see below), I put off going to the Hermitage today, and instead just wandered around downtown and did a little writing. I also typed up all of those messages that I should have sent out before, so you will probably get a flurry of communication from me in the next few days. I will send a few "back issues" about India that I had promised, and one or two more on Russia as well.
Despite my two days of recharging in tiny Suzdal, I was still a fed up with the outrageous prices and the generally unpleasant attitude of Moscow, and I was ready to leave. So I decided to make one long day of visiting museums, and then jump on the train to St. Petersburg. I had the chance to see some marvelous pieces of art, but I also had the opportunity to reflect on just what was bugging me about Moscow and Russia, and why there was not more tourism in such a fascinating country. I think the ticket lady at the Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts summed it up well when I asked her for a museum plan: “You can buy it in the gift shop. No information is bezplatno (free). Everything you pay.” That seems to exemplify the prevailing attitude in Russia, at least as far as foreigners are concerned. In every museum and attraction in Russia, foreigners pay not just a little more, but five to ten times more than the locals, not just for the admission, but for any tours (including audio guides and theatre programs) or other services. For your extra money, you get nothing more, and in most cases substantially less. There is no free information available in English or any other language, and very few of the exhibits are marked in anything other than Russian. And very few people in the ticket offices speak even a few words of English, so you’re lucky if you even get a ticket. If this were simply an issue of tax-paying citizens getting a break and foreigners having to make up the difference, it would be one thing, but it goes far beyond that. Indeed, I think it has very little to do with that reason, since the few museums and attractions that would presumably not appeal to foreigners, such as the Cosmonaut Museum, do not have a dual-pricing system.
In the paper the other day, I saw an article about Moscow wanting to increase their hotel capacity by three times, in order to accommodate more tourists. Apparently, they think that if they build more hotels, the people will come. Yet, the city is not granting any concessions to hoteliers, no price breaks on prime real estate or incentives for building these new expensive buildings. Instead, the city proposes to offer leases on sub-par real estate locations that few investors would be interested in. The Russian government seems to be stuck in the planned development mindset, and assumes that everyone will just accept these terms. I suppose that a few minor Russian hotels might take them up on their offer, but it seems unlikely that any major foreign firms would be interested. Aside from a few leases (which they could up the price on at any moment) Moscow city hall doesn’t seem to have a plan, other than that they want more beds. They also seem to be ignoring the fact that a lack of hotel rooms is not the reason that foreigners are not coming to Russia. More likely, many potential tourists and travelers scratch Russia off their list when they discover the difficulty and cost of arranging a visa. The immigration regulations and requirements are so convoluted and xenophobic that many people become disgusted and give up. The antiquated regulations combine with low wages for police, immigration, and customs officials to practically assure corruption. Most of the foreigners I have seen who were actually motivated enough to get through all of this just decided to pay a travel agent to organize it for them, rather than attempt to untangle the web themselves. As it stands now, I imagine 90% or more of the people who visit Russia do so on an organized tour, which invariably cost much more and limit your ability to personalize your visit.
What do you think? Would any of you visit Moscow if they had 200,000 beds by 2010 (their goal)?

Well, I am getting a little fed up with Moscow, mostly because of the accomodation situation, which is ridiculous. For one, the prices here are about the most inflated (compared to local earnings/realistic prices) I have ever seen. There do not seem to be very many true hostels, and those that do exist charge exorbitant rates. Most of them cost more than northern or western Europe, which is ridiculous when you consider that the cost of living here is nothing compared to Scandinavia or western Europe. And today I was unceremoniously kicked out of my "hostel" (it was really more like a hotel, but somehow it is a member of Hostelling International) without warning because two Russian women wanted the "dorm" I was in for themselves. There was nothing I could do about it, despite my protests, and I was just told to find another place, so I wasted all of today (which, ironically had the best weather since I have been here) looking for a new place. The cheapest bed I could find was $25/night, which is insane in a country where the monthly wage is only a few hundred dollars a month, if that. So I opted to spend the night in the TV room of the hostel for about $11. The rest of Russia has been reasonable (although accomodation is NOT cheap), but Moscow is ridiculous. So I will leave Moscow and head to a small town for a couple of days, then come back and see a couple of museums and get on the train to St. Petersburg.

I am going to see Raimonda at the Bolshoi ballet tonight, and then I will take a break from this big city life. I considered spending the night in the 24-hour internet cafe for awhile (and I am still thinking about it), with the situation as it is, but hopefully a few days in the country will help calm me. The ballet starts in half an hour, so I'd better go.

Hello everyone! Welcome to my new blog. This will now serve to supplement, but not replace, the e-mails that you receive from me. This will be a more regular way to check on my progress, as I will probably post to this blog more often than I will send e-mails. However, this will also be more impulsive, less refined writing, just giving my general thoughts for the day, updates on where I am, etc.

Yesterday I arrived in Moscow and visited Red Square for the first time, amid a light but persistent rain. St. Basil's Cathedral was unfortunately covered partially by scaffolding, but the Kremlin walls and State History Museum were unencumbered by such aesthetic no-nos and were as impressive as I had expected. Saw the changing of the guard ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and took a short video, which may someday be put onto my website.

Walking around with Mark, an English guy from Birmingham, we visited the Red Square McDonalds, as he had not eaten the previous day (due to immigration/registration problems -- I will send out an e-mail about the hassles of immigration formalities in Russia). There we met another three travelers, about the most I have seen in one place during the time I have been in Russia. So apparently the place to meet travelers in Russia is in McDonalds. I have met very few at the hostel or other places you would expect to meet backpackers. I am still firmly convinced that 95% of the people who visit Russia come on a pre-paid, organized tour, as I have met hardly anyone who is traveling independently like I am. There also seems to be virtually no tourist infrastructure for the independent traveler. For some reason, Russia likes to control their tourism industry with a whole host of unnecessary regulations and rules, and they don't seem to really want tourists to come to their country. Despite this official disregard for foreigners, Russia does have a lot to offer, and is quite interesting so far. At the moment, I am off to visit the Kremlin, so I will write again later.