Thursday, July 11, 2002
Location: Hotel Pulkovskaya, St. Petersburg
Weather: Hot & sunny

I made it! Zdrastvuytye! I had no trouble getting through the passport control and customs, and as my flight was full of Italian and American tourists I slipped under the touts' radars and made it to my bus with no problems. I got on the right bus, but at the wrong spot... The number 13 does a run through a nearby residential district between the stops at the arrivals area (where I'd just changed some money) and the departures area. In other words, I got a 10-minute tour, and then returned where I'd come from, before finally heading out towards the city.

Though the bus ultimately went to a metro stop, I didn't need to go that far. Instead, I hopped off by the massive roundabout around the Monument to the Heroic Defenders of Leningrad, across from the hotel, the even more massive Pulkovskaya. Inside the hotel, the tour group-friendly English-speaking receptionists checked me in with efficiency and I made it up to my room, which is of bog standard international design. And yes, Molly, it still has the heated towel racks you remember.

A recap of the rest of the week so far:

On Monday, after another hearty breakfast (featuring, for me, my first black pudding -- not bad!) we left Durham for York. In no hurry, we stopped in Ripon for what we thought would be a quick visit to the cathedral. Unfortunately, in finding a car park Bruce (our only driver, dealing manfully with the left side of the road and the perils of roundabouts) ran the left front tire too close to a curb and we picked up a fluke tear in the tire wall. It held us until we got to the carpark, but there, the hiss of escaping air caught our attention and we realized the problem.

Since it clearly wasn't going to make much difference when we changed the tire, we carried on with our tour of the cathedral, a beautiful building. Then we got directions to a repair shop. While Stephanie bought the makings of a picnic lunch, Brian, Bruce & I exerted our manly perogative to sweat and changed the tire with the spare from the trunk. At the repair shop the tire was examined and a patch was ruled out, so we had to get a new tire, which Bruce ruefully but firmly insisted on paying for.

Not wanting to spend any more time in Ripon, we drove off on the new tire to Fountains Abbey. When we arrived, a helpful parks official whose car we'd been following pointed us to the main car park, but there was an admission charge to get into the grounds and as we only wanted a place to picnic we decided to stay outside and ate our lunch on a bench by the wall. The abbey itself was behind a low hill ahead, so all we could see was the top of the steeple, rather disappointing.

After lunch we carried on to York. The city presented Bruce with more driving challenges: after a lengthy series of roundabouts on the ring road around the west side of town, we finally got onto the A62 leading down to the turnoff for our country B&B, but there Brian (navigating) let his guard down and missed the turnoff. Some half hour later, we made it back to the turnoff and somehow onto the right B road to Sutton-upon-Derwent, where our B&B was found easily on the main street. It was very nice, though I think Bruce and Steph were hoping that "Manor Farm" meant we would be staying on a real farm, not a converted farm house just off a village high street. Still, it had a lot of character, a friendly landlady, and a great pub just down the road.

Tuesday we went into town, parked the car, and walked over to the Minster. There, we made plans to meet for 5pm evensong and split up. For Brian and me, the first priority was to get our train tickets. Then he headed off for a bus tour of the city, I found an Internet cafe, and eventually, my way back to the Starbucks. [See the previous post.]

After Starbucks, I met up with the gang for evensong and we enjoyed a lovely service, again right next to the choir. They had four counter tenors! Their sound was tighter and more evenly blended than the Durham choir, but here there were no hymns sung and no collection.

After evensong we made our way back to the Ouse (the river running through York--isn't that a lovely name?) and had a light dinner in a pub located in a converted wine cellar with lovely arched ceilings. Then we decided to catch "Minority Report" at the City Screen theatre, just down the street. We had an hour and a half before the show, so I headed back to try and check my email for a message from Colin & Licia in London. The Internet cafe was closed, but just down the street was a doorway leading to some stairs up to a tiny second-story bar which had free Internet terminals for patrons.

It also had a lineup. I got in line, eventually got a couple of minutes on the machine, and had, indeed, got confirmation of meeting Colin in London on Wednesday.

The movie, which I'd already seen in Toronto, was still entertaining the second time through, though the obviousness of the villain was if anything even more annoying than the first time.

On Wednesday we once again started with a huge English breakfast, and packed up the car. We took a meandering route to get to Leeds, stopping to try and see a huge church in Beverley. Unfortunately, it had been closed by a police detail in preparation for a visit by the Queen on Friday. We consoled ourselves with sandwiches and tea in a nearby teahouse, then set off again. In comparison to Tuesday the clouds had broken up and the rain had stopped, so we had a pleasant drive to Leeds, where Bruce & Steph dropped me at the train station and Brian at his conference.

Once in London, I made my way to Colin & Licia's apartment, which is in a wonderful location: overlooking the Tower of London! As arranged, I settled in at the Liberty Bounds, a pub conveniently located downstairs of their apartment, until Colin got home from work to meet me and let me in. I had an all-too-brief stay. They are superb hosts and I hope to get a chance to see them again soon. For dinner we walked through the docklands to a great Italian restaurant in Upping called Il Bordello.

At 6:45 the next morning (this morning) I was off again, heading out to Heathrow on the Underground. And here I am... in Russia! Just starting to think about tracking down a late snack before bed.
posted by Tom at 10:04 PM | link |