Category Archives: General Mutterings

Black Friday and Cyber Monday – You have to be kidding me


Mutters on a Black Friday

I’m not much of a shopper – and I know there are some of you out there chuckling manically at this admission. I suppose in the world of complete honesty – I’d have to admit to not being a shopper at all. In fact – shopping to me is probably up there with banging toes against a dresser in the middle of the night for things to avoid at all costs.

So – Black Friday. What do I care?

I am completely bemused, amazed, and intrigued by the amount of advertising that is being done by retailers from large to small in the name of ‘Black Friday’. But that’s hardly new. What set my fingers to typing today is what I can only see as a new, and thoroughly hideous development.

There are retailers who have decided that Black Friday should start on Thursday. 3:00 PM to be exact. What does that mean for their staff? What in theory is supposed to be a day filled with turkey and giving thanks in family based gathering in all corners of the US is truncated by Dad or Mom or Sister or Brother saying – oops – got to go to work.

And worse – folks were actually fighting over the bargains – I know that because You-Tube posted a video of at least one fight – and my nephews were extremely thrilled to share it around. So folks got up from their dinning room tables, turned aside from their turkey dinners – to go fight for a TV. Really?

It wasn’t bad enough that Black Friday sales started at midnight on Thursday – there’s some logic in a contorted sense to that (Ok Kids, finish dinner, go to bed – Dad, Mom, Sister or Brother is headed to work or to shop) – but at least the day is yours. 3:00 PM defies logic and sense.

Worse – it leaves the retailers who stick to their guns and are holding off for FRIDAY a step behind the game.

I have to admit that I didn’t really notice that Best Buy was suffering when I was dragged unwilling in to check out a new Fit Bit for my husband. They seemed well stocked and well staffed – and it was Black Saturday. Maybe I just don’t know what the hot new – and unavailable thing actually happens to be this year. Color me out of the loop apparently.

Interestingly – The marketing brains for some retailers have decreed that their stores will not open on Thursday or Friday – giving their employees two days off. Nice – but so clearly a marketing stunt. How do I know – they are advertising the fact! Cue the cute pictures of a nuclear family enjoying Thanksgiving.

But before I end this rant – and honestly – this is what this is – a rant – I don’t think I’m going to get folks to rethink the wisdom of having a big sale to drag in customers to ensure that they come to you and not your competitors in this pre-pre-run up to Christmas, I do want to ask one question.

Do you know the reason we call the day after Thanksgiving – Black Friday?

Ah – historically – this was the day that retailers finally got into the Black!

Signing off to do anything but shop – The Soup Lady.

Recognizing Out-standing Customer Service when you get it


Delta Rocks

I travel a fair bit. Ok – that’s possibly a lie – maybe I qualify as ‘travels a lot’. It’s hard to judge, as far as I know the airlines don’t publicly share stats on frequent travelers. I do know that among the aproximately 100 folks I know the travel patterns of – I rank #1 for most trips, followed closely by my husband.

I’m not in the travel industry – so I’d guess they accumulate more travel miles than I possibly could and I don’t travel for business – or to commute from home to work – I am officially still fully employed in IT close to my home in Montreal – but still – I do travel a lot.

In any case – I feel capable of recognizing outstanding service when I experience it – and I just had an ‘outstanding’ guest service experience.

To draw the picture – I’m on a Delta flight heading south – one of those tiny commuter planes with faux leather seats, moderate head room (thank goodness) – and overhead storage on both sides of the plane. This compares quite favorably with planes with almost no head room (at 5’4″ you wouldn’t think I’d notice) – and literally no overhead storage.

On the down side – I couldn’t just stroll onto the plane. I walked out a gate – along a carpet ‘tunnel’ and ended up at an extremely narrow stair case. In fact – it was the door of the plane – converted into a series of narrow steps up. So I had to lift my bag up to carry it into the plane. Awkward – seriously awkward.

But on to the over the top guest service experience.

I got to my seat, settled down, and put my nearly empty coffee cup (purchased at 2nd Cup in the airport) in the seat pocket in front of me.

Without my saying ANYTHING – the stewardess came along and asked if I wanted a refill! A refill. Amazing. I said yes – and then she asked – how do I like it. How much milk, how much sugar.

Delta – I’m impressed. And I was travelling economy class! She really made me feel special.

So here I sit – full and reasonably hot coffee in hand, watching a trainer teach a new employee how to de-ice a plane! They used the lift truck to go up – sprayed us down, and then actually got out to test the wings for ice. This against a rosy sky hearlding dawn over the city of Montreal.

I toast the sky – Here’s to a safe and healthy trip!

I live in a cool city.

Signing off – The Soup Lady.

Napoleon meets his match – Waterloo 2015


Dawn on June 20, 2015 – aka June 17, 1815

Last night’s battle didn’t go too badly – no clear winner of course – but the French troops managed to push the British line back almost to the edge of the battlefield. Aside from that one Scottish group (looked like Scots – could have been Russians) – we held firm and felt strong.

Today of course is another day.

There’s a change in the atmosphere in the camp – the soliders are being so nice to M. le Docteur Jean Vivant de Clairmont! Do I have a seat, will I sit here – did I get my breakfast yet. Hey – do you think they are begining to see that I am not just a fancy outfit? Whatever – I’m relieved to feel the change – means I’m doing something ok.

Breakfast done – drill done – we are given the rest of the day off. The battle tonight will be epic – and we all realize it. Nerves are on edge – Justifably so I suppose. 200 years ago do you think the soliders were as nervous – they faced life or death, so I suppose they must have been worried. But they were so young – mostly 18 to 21 years old, did they think that what would happen that day would be so studied, so celebrated, so well remembered.
Our Major – Gilles – reminds us to be in battle dress and ready to assemble at 4:30 this afternoon. The battle won’t start till 8:00 pm – but we must march the 4.5 KM, then get into our formations.

Taking on my background role – interpreter – I go visit the Sutlers that have set up tents to sell their goods in the Allied camp, and near the battlefield. There are treasures galore – I score a new fan, and my partner finds a canteen. The weather is hot and humid, having enough water is going to be critical to the success or failure of the troops, and there are 120 men and women marching as Garde Imperial, not to mention the entire drum and fife core. I grab another 12 litres of water from the ‘canteen’ tent – and it’s a good thing too – he’s running low.

We gather at 4:30 – and ‘dinner’ is distributed – packages of dried apricots and bags of peanuts. I can appreciate the apricots – but why peanuts? M. le Docteur Jean Vivant de Clairmont is going to have enough trouble keeping the troops hydrated and on their feet without them eating peanuts! Good thing that La Culiere was in charge for lunch. He started with canned ravoli – but with skillful addition of sauage and chopped onions, made it into something delicous. Not period correct of course – (ravoli for French troops?) although canning was invented by order of our Emperor – so that at least was right!

Not fed – but carrying what is going to have to pass for dinner – the troops are mustered and we march out. There are cheering townspeople everywhere! They yell out their support for us – many choosing to march along beside us for short periods. We spot the calvary – over 150 horses and their riders – ready for battle, and looking truly fine.

There are over 2500 French troops on hand for this fight – we’re one small cog in a huge machine – all focused on gaining another victory for our Emperor. He rides by – gaily waving his Bicorne. We are joined on the field by several of the higher officers – and in the distance I spot the rest of the medical core. They have come prepared for trouble, they have stretchers ready to take soliders off the field.

We are positioned at the far end of the battle field – on a slight hilltop overlooking 3 huge structures – mock-ups of La Haye Sainte (bravely defended by The Kings Legion), Hougoumont (which will be set on fire sometime during this battle), and on the far eastern side of the battle field – Papelotte. La Guarde Imperiale never gets near any of these – we stay well into the open areas of the battle field.

Massed in front of us are what we can see of the Allied armies – primarily British commanded by Wellington. Historically – many of them would have been hidden from view, but today they are very visible, and very scary. They stretch from one end of the huge battlefield to the other – a mass of red coats and artillery.

The start of the battle is signaled by the announcer – who plays O Fortuna from Carmia Barna. Excellent choice – as it tells of the raise and fall of man’s fortune. Perfect for this battle that set the stage for Europe as we know it today.

But we don’t have time to listen – Our Major has gotten orders – and they are communicated to the 4 divisions as a series of commands yelled out by each of our officiers. The artillary barage has begun – and we are stationed near two of the larger guns. The noise level is considerable, compounded by the pyrotecnics. To both our left and right there are now fires burning – officially the result of cannon fire from the Brits – but really the careful positioning of pyrotecnics.

It dawns on me that I don’t know where they have these stacks of fireworks hidden on the field – but one of the officiers takes a moment to explain to me that they are individually controlled and supervised. The big ones won’t go off if anyone is near by. That’s reassuring, I guess.

I’m just hoping that my position in the exact middle of the Guarde will keep me safe.

Our Major commands that we march forward – and soon we are going down hill thru rye that reaches to my waist. Underneath the rye are ridges and hallows caused by plowing the fields – and I’m having trouble keeping my feet underneath me. I stumble along – trying as best as I can to march – but honestly – it’s hard just to walk fast enough to keep up with the troop.

Form Square is suddenly called – and for the first and only time – we blow it! Our square has a front and a back – but there is no real middle. The space where I would normally stand is filled with the flag, officers in gold and gilt who have decided to march along with us, and the entire fife and drum core. I have no choice – I draw my epee – and try not to get trampled. The British calvary makes a valient effort to cut us down – but the bayonets are mounted – and all they can do is clash sword againt bayonet. We are not allowed to shoot at them when they are this close – it’s dangerous for the horses. And they are really really close. I can hear the horses heavy breathing as they gallop past. And the earth literally shakes.

Our calvary rides up – and there is a massive calvary battle – right outside our position.

The Brits and their Allies eventually retreat – we form lines and continue our advance, straight into the guns of the British line. We mount Bayonets – but the gunfire doesn’t cease, and the Major doesn’t tell us to charge. Instead we being an organized march backwards.

The Old Guard never retreats – but apparently marching backwards (you try that) is ok.

We reposition ourselves further to the right side and this time we attack the British line.

It’s so much fun – we pull back and do it again!

But our losses are beginning to mount up – there are literally piles of dead everywhere – and when next I peek out from behind the line – the other doctors have begun to check on the dead. I join them – using my wet white glove to cool down their heads. It’s hot work being dead – even at 9:45 at night. The wounded and dead thank me – and like a good doctor, I don’t steal their shoes. I leave that for the thieves and Camp Followers – I’m all about helping the injured.

One solider lifts his hat – and his hair – to receive my cool touch- and I wipe down his bald head.

Suddenly I hear ‘Charge!’ from behind me! Oh my goodness – the Prussians have entered the battle – and we are being attacked! I’m on the outside of the line – and in serious trouble. I bravely (ok – maybe not so bravely) desert the dead and dying to run towards the square that the remaining members of the Guard have formed to protect the Eagle and the Flag.

Let me IN!!!

I squeeze in – just in time to see La Culiere throw himself into the line of fire in an attempt to protect the flag. He falls – along with most of the line.

The next time the attacking Brits fire – I fall too.

Wellington rides in to claim the field for the English. We have officially lost. The battle is over. Napoleon has met his match.

…..

After the call to end the fight – the dead arise, and two of the old guard help me get back on my feet. Good thing too – I was lying there thinking – hmm, down wasn’t that hard – but I really don’t think I can get up my myself.

My apron is bloodied, most of my water bottles empty – and we still have the long march back to the Bivouac. Again I form a hitch hiking line up – flaging down cars to the amusement of the police acting as traffic control and fill them with soliders too tired and too sore to make the walk back. Eventually – it’s just me left – and when I flag down the last car – the police that are directly traffic give me a round of Appaluse!

Beer, Frits, Bed! No problem getting to sleep to night, I’m seriously sore – but glad I came.

The next morning I get the absolutely best compliment in the world. After Gilles, our Major, finishes his announcements – and thanks the North Americans in general – one of the Old Guard asks for M. le Docteur Jean Vivant de Clairont to be brought in front of the ranks. The line parts, and I’m waved to the front.

He announces – We want to thank Leslie specifically – and the entire company gives me a Hip- Hip – Hurrah.

Tears in my eyes – I remind them to drink water!

As the men pack up to leave – each and every one comes over to personally thank me – and in many cases give me a hug.

M. le Docteur Jean Vivant de Clarimont – you done good!

Signing off – The soup Lady.

Things I couldn’t say until I’d left Russia behind


I’m currently in Brussels – we left St. Pete’s behind us – an overall uneventful trip via Estonia. But now that’s I’m comfortably at a distance from Russia – here’s some parting observations I didn’t feel good about sharing earlier. Enjoy the read.

Russia – aka St. Petersburg – is exciting, interesting, spooky, uncomfortable, awkward, unfeeling, unsmiling, quiet, clean, oppresive, sad, and worth a visit.

Maybe this is a totally personal perspective, but both the Intrepid Traveller and I agreed that there is something – well – odd about being in Russia. Maybe it’s just us and our memories of the Cold War, of the injustices of Stalin’s regime – but maybe it’s more than just that. In any case – here are things that bothered and/or intrigued me about being in Russia.

Awkward 1 – There are a lot of police and military around. All the time. Everywhere. In cars, in armored vehicles, just walking the streets. Sometimes they sport machine guns, sometimes it’s just hand guns. But it’s a lot. A whole lot.

Awkward 2 – The insignia of the miliary guys are velcro’d to their uniforms. That means they can quickly ditch any indication of who exactly they are. I find that very uncomfortable. We tried to ask about it – but were politely told – none of our business.

Awkward 3 – We saw at least 2 groups of people stopped by the police and/or military and questioned. We were warned to carry photo-copies of our passports around, not the real thing – and to never give our passports to anyone in the police and/or military. We were told by fellow tourists we met outside of Russia that they had been hasseled while in Russia – As members of a visual minority – they were targeted and money demanded to make the issue go away. This is not a good thing if you want tourists to come to your country.

Awkward 4 – MacDonald’s in an airport doesn’t make me forget that buried deep inside are individual booths used to control both incoming and outgoing travelers. We’d seen the booths in a museum on the Cold War in Berlin. Imagine our shock to see that Russia is still using the same booths today. You line up at the border station, divided by passport type. Each booth has a door in, and a door out that closes and opens under the control of the guards. Travellers are requested to enter as individuals (Yes – even kids go in alone). There is a mirror over your head so that the unsmiling border guard can see behind you as well as in front of you. The desk of the guard is high, and protected so that at least I could not see what they were doing while they had my passport. There is plate glass between us – stretching all the way up to the ceiling. When they finish doing whatever they are doing – the door in front opens automatically. There is no – have a nice trip, welcome to Russia – nothing at all is said. Just hard eyes, unsmiling faces, and papers. Yes – it’s spooky, macabre, uncomfortable, spine tingling, and not the way to encourage visitors. I almost turned around to get back on the plane right then.

Awkward 5 – Kids – even little kids – don’t smile. I am 67 years old, 5’4″ high, and a grannie. I smile at kids. In every country I’ve ever visited before Russia – the kids eventually smiled back. Not here. Not once. In other countries – parents have encouraged their kids to speak to me – to practice their English – to wave. Not here. Not once.

Awkward 6 – The metro and buses are silent. People don’t chat, they don’t greet friends, they don’t smile. The corners of their mouths tend to go down – not up. This was really obvious when we rode the metro in Brussels – we immediately were innodated with the sounds of people using the time on the metro to share news, greet each other – whatever. This just didn’t happen in Russia. Even in restuarants and museums things were hushed. I laughed loudly at a funny video segment – and not only shocked the locals – I embarrased the Interpid Traveler. There’s a constraint, a – don’t look at me – I’m not really here – feeling that even as tourists, we were well aware of.

Awkward 7 – We were warned by our host to not drink the water from the tap. That’s not unusual – I’ve been in tons of places where tap water is not entirely safe for our delicate stomachs – but this was awkward in Russia because we would buy water only to see it being used by other people. I don’t mind sharing – but water is heavy! And the supermarket was a distance from the hostel – far enough that for us – carrying the water was an issue. If you are going to use someone else’s water – at least buy some yourself to share too! I had to ask our host to supply us with some water – which he did. But I had to ask. You can understand that this is awkward.

Awkward 8 – Constant security just doesn’t feel safe. There were ‘administors’ whose job it was to sit up all night at the reception desk – keeping us safe. Since we had only a shared bathroom – that meant getting up in the middle of the night and walking past the guard to get to the toilet. He would smile and wave – but while it did feel safer knowing that there was someone between me and whatever – the smile and wave with me in my PJ’s was odd. But that’s not the only example. To get into our hostel – we had to enter one code at the gate, then ring another code at the door to the building. They would have to pick up the phone – then buzz us in. Once in the hall way – they would open the door to the hostel, visually checking to be sure we were who they were expecting. At the MIR hostel – the final inspection was via video – at the two smaller hostels – the administrator had to get up and physically open the door for us. I don’t know about you – but it felt weird to me.

Awkward 9 – There are no thrift stores and no flea markets. So what do Russians do with their old stuff? I’m guessing that the no flea markets has to do with people being able to sell stuff on their own – and unsuperised by the government – free enterprise is bad afterall – but no thrift stores. Really? Maybe they just don’t want me to know about them?

Awkward 10 – we were told by the Hostel folks, and it’s implied on the Canadian Consulate website that bringing things to the attention to the Russian Police is not a good idea. Why is this awkward – my wallet was stolen, and the credit card folks – to cover their bums – want to know if I have a police report – and I don’t. Apparently – a phone call telling them to block the cards wasn’t quite good enough. Go figure.

Pro Russia 1 – It’s clean. Really clean. Yes we did see a bum pee into a bush once, but in general, the streets were spotless. One morning we were even up early enough to see them vaccuming the streets. It was a huge vaccum cleaner – it towered over the head of the operator, and it was on wheels. He moved around the cobblestone square – cleaning as he went.

Pro Russia 2 – There’s no dog poop. Anywhere. Ever. Dog’s yes – plenty of them, including a completely charming pair of pugs – but no dog poop. I have no idea where they put it. And despite the huge number of horse drawn carriages – no horse poop either.

Pro Russia 3 – Still on the clean issue – the public garbage cans were always mostly empty. Here in Brussels we’ve seen them overflowing – that was never ever the case in Russia – even in our courtyard the public bins were emptied at least twice a week – and maybe even more often.

Pro Russia 4 – there is a massive coffee cult! Roadside Expresso stands were the norm – my personal issue with them – they only opened in the afternoon – and I won’t drink coffee after lunch – too much caffine for my system. But they sure looked good.

Pro Russia 5 – The food truck is in. They had bakery food trucks, they had cheese food trucks, they had sauage food trucks and food stands. There was at least once food stand a block, and in more popular (aka touristy ) areas – there might be 3 or 4 of them. Surprising to me – given the temperature – the two products most on offer – outside of sausages – were corn on the cob and ice cream. Eventually I had to try an ice cream. It was ok – but Italy needn’t worry.

Pro Russia 6 – Outdoor cafes have blankets! Isn’t that the smartest thing ever. In addition to heaters (less common) – there are blankets available – perfect for enjoying outdoor seating – and staying warm.

Neutral Russia 1 – There were no homeless people to be seen. Now given the weather in winter in St. Petersburg – that might be related – but we were in St. Petersburg during the White Nights, and the weather was outstanding every single day. Surely there must be some homeless folks somewhere. But they sure weren’t visible – something that can not be said about Brussels – or Montreal for that matter.

Neutral Russia 2 – Begging takes a different form. Several times we’d get off the beaten trail enough to see rows of elder women selling tiny bunches of flowers or herbs that they had clearly picked up. It’s not really begging per se – they just were sitting rather lifeless on the curb – in a solid row of about 20 of them. But it was clear that this was how they could earn a few ruples. The Intrepid Traveler says she read that the widows of Veterans were often forced to earn a living this way, since the pensions for soliders were non-existant – but I don’t know for sure. I would have loved to take a photo – but there was something forbidding about them. So – no pictures please.

Neutral Russia 3 – The lines. Ok – it’s a cultural thing – I get it. But I wanted to scream at them – don’t they look at books on queueing theory? It’s nuts. So inefficient, so time wasting, so everywhere!

Neutral Russia 4 – There is a museum guard per room in the museums – and the larger museums using time tracking systems to control who is where when. The guards either walk around or sit – but they are omni-present. And often there are multiple guards – like in front of the Diamond Room. There we counted 4 control points – a ‘guard’ who sat at a guard station, and 3 ladies that were responsible for taking tickets, telling you to sit and wait for your tour to start – and carefully explaining to tourist after tourist that you couldn’t buy tickets there but had to exit the museum in order to get a ticket – and you would have to buy an additional admission ticket to get back in.

Neutral Russia 5 – There are prices for Russians, and prices for non-Russians. It’s not always obvious – but with only a few exceptions, we could tell that prices went up when it became clear we were hardly locals. The few exceptions were extremely welcome however – these were some of our favorite meals and favorite events.

End of the day – Leaving Russia was a relief. Like taking off a heavy back-pack you forgot you were carrying. There was always a feeling that someone was watching, that you were being observed, overheard, criticized, evalutated, measured. It wasn’t always obvious, and we are hardly visible minorities in Russia – but it was still there. I wouldn’t want to be a visible minority in Russia. I felt awkward enough being the loud, boiterous, always smiling person that I am.

I’ve had people read this blog and suggest that I didn’t enjoy my trip to St. Petersburg, or that I wouldn’t go back. And that’s not true. I did enjoy my trip – and I would highly recommend visiting St. Petersburg. The Russians I’ve met re-enacting have all been wonderful fun people – a pleasure to be with. So why are the Russians in St. Petersburg so different. I really can’t answer that question. There were amazingly positive interactions – people helped us with our luggage without question, they got up so we could sit down all the time, and in private they were more than willing to share their stories. It was in public that one could sense the restraint and concern.

Signing off to rest easier – The Soup Lady and her sidekick – the Intrepid Traveler.

You never run out of Museums in St. Petersburg!


You’d think after seeing the big 2 – we’d be museum’ed out! And true – the big hitters are vast beyond belief. The Hermitage collection would take years to see if you only spent 1 minute checking out each item on display, and the equally vast but less visited Russian Museum is pretty amazing. But the Intrepid Traveler and I stay longer to see more – and St. Petersburg in no exception.

Today we’ve got 3 on the list – St. Issac’s Cathederal, the Rumyantsev Mansion, which contains among it’s state rooms a museum on the defense of Leningrad during World War II, and the Erarta Museum. The last sounds the best to me – but it’s off the easy travelled path, and to get there we’ll have to metro, bus and walk! But being the sports that we are – it’s tally ho!

We arrive at St. Issac’s by foot – and immediately realize that it doesn’t open at 10:00 – it opens at 10:30. Sigh. So it’s line up – realize you are standing in front of a non-opening window – move, line up again. Get cut off by a larger guy intent on being in front of you, wait patiently, eventually get your ticket. Then it’s the mandatory 2nd line-up to enter. All this to see the inside of a church that isn’t even really a church – it’s a museum. Lots of amazing marble work, largest Dome built at it’s time – and some impressive icons. Quick in, Quicker out. We’re on to the Museum on the defense of Leningrad during WWII.

This museum is truly cool. Like almost all the other museums in St. Petersburg – it’s in a former palace that was taken away from it’s owners during the revolution. Some of the rooms have been refurshed (I love the ball room), but most are just painted bare walls used to display the entirely too intriguing exhibts. I didn’t realize how fast the German’s turned on their allies, the Russians. On day one they were friends, on day two – bitter enemies. Apparently Stalin was so amazed that the Germans attacked – he had the first messanger shot.

Such a nice guy, eh? Talk about killing the messenger.

The Germans – fresh off their astounding victories in France, the Netherlands and Belgium, could see no problem. I think Hilter should have read up on Napoleon! He effectively ran into the same problem that Napoleon did. It’s easy going at first – but by 3 or 4 weeks in – the Russians fall back into delaying actions that kill off men, without a clear stopping point. And then the weather takes care of the rest of the attacking army.

German plan? Dash into Russia, defeat the country in 3 to 4 months – Max – and Europe is ours.

It takes the Germans only about 3 months to get to St. Petersburg (Leningrad at that time) – but at the natural city walls (rivers and canals mostly), they run into serious resistance. They can’t conquor the city – so they lay seige and try to bomb and starve it into submission. The problem – the population of St Petersburg (aka Leningrad) just don’t give up. And the Germans keep pounding away.

According to the display – the Russians were able to get some supplies to the city during the very long, very hard first winter by bringing stuff across the frozen water to the West. But thousands and thousands of people straved – there are huge cemetaries built in their honor to the North of the city. Tough Times.

Anyway – it took 4 long years for the seige to resolve itself. And for a good while it wasn’t obvious who was doing it to whom. But having this unresolved thorn kept the Germans occupied, the Russians encouraged to fight on elsewhere, and removed some of the pressure from Great Britian. The Intrepid Traveller – who knows far more history than I, says that the seige was really a turning point – albeit a very slow, long drawn out one. It took the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbour to get the Americans involved – had St. Petersburg fallen – there might have been no Europe for the US to save.

The exhibits in the museum are mostly from the point of view of the people of St. Petersburg – air raid shelters, life in a communal flat at the time, that kind of thing. Really facinating. And well documented in English.

I keep thinking – we’d never think to document our museums in Russian – never.

We finish our tour and decide to head to the Erarta Museum. I still haven’t figured out the bus routes in the city – so we decide to walk to the metro stop that links by bus to the museum. That means walking across another of the bridges that link parts of the city. Tied up near the bridge is one of those giant cruise ships – the SeaBourne Queen. It towers – towers – over the city scape. Historic St. Pete’s has a max height of maybe 5 stories – no elevators – remember – so having a 6 to 7 story high cruise ship tied up right at the historic heart – it’s like having a rose in a bouquet of lilies. Can you say – sore thumb?

After admiring, if you can call it that, the cruise ship – and the 3 other cruise ships tied up further down the Neva, we continue walking towards the metro until my nose does one of those hard rights! This time it’s a local little restaurant – with a 199 ruple ($5) lunch special. Cranberry/Strawberry drink, bowl of borsht with sour cream, salad, and a main course of what we’re finding to be the extremely traditional mystery meat roll with rice. Completely yummy.

Refreshed – we continue our hike. Metro located, Bus found, Museum discovered – we explore the Erarta – St. Petersburg’s Museum of Contempory Russian Art.

Nothing in St. Petersburg is small – so it shouldn’t surprise you to learn that the Erarta is huge. 5 floors – countless rooms – including 3 floors of ‘special exhibits’, and complete bonus – a 35 piece collection of Vaserily’s. There’s an audio guide (natch) – and it patiently explains a great deal about at least half of the collection. There are 2 ‘media’ rooms – one of which is showing an hysterical cartoon series entiled “The Adventures of the Black Square”. I think it’s available on NetFlicks – and it’s incredibly funny. This family interacts with famous paintings that magically come alive. My favorite has to be “The Scream” – at one point they tape the mouth shut!

Another favorite – a 3-D life sized version of the last supper – covered completely in burlap. The idea – it’s obvious what it is – but then you wonder – is it really them? You are supposed to start considering your reaction to known art. Intriguing.

I also liked the huge metal worm – shades of ‘Dune’ – that occupied about 3/4 of a room. Art my size is always interesting!

We visited the ‘for sale’ area – I see a lovely small sculpture – just $1000. Right, I’ll buy two of those. Anyway – we leave the museum intrigued, but without the sculpture and head back to the city.

Dinner is going to be at the Hostel (Roast Chicken again – this time with Veggies – and another bottle of wine) – and turns out to be a lot of fun. A new group of guests have arrived, 2 women and their 9 year old sons. We swap pictures, share histories, and just enjoy the company.

Everyone Russian that we have met has a back-story that sooner or later they share with us. Generally hard times overcome – they are making the best of things, life is getting better, they finally live on their own, have their own flat, etc. It’s not that they are upbeat – it’s more that they can see that there’s a better future out there – and they want their piece of the pie.

I say – let’s all share – certainly there’s enough pie for everyone to enjoy.

Signing off – The Soup Lady and the Intrepid Traveler.

I have walked in the footsteps of Lenin


I grew up with the Cold War in full force. We feared the Soviet expertise in Space – they had launched a satelite before we did – and that scared and challenged everyone I knew. I had heard of Lenin of course – but growing up in Atlanta didn’t equate to much of a world history orientation.

True fact – I really only knew there was a World History when I hit University. Sad statement on a Southern education circa 1960.

But I digress – I’m here in St. Petersburg – visiting the Museum of Political Life – and walking where Lenin walked in 1917 – 1919. His office was right where I’m currently standing – here in the glorious home of one of the Prima Ballerinas of the time – the Bolsheviks took it over after she fled Russia when the Tsar was arrested. Lenin paced these wooden floors – He opened those balcony windows to address the mobs.

Such is the adventage of travel – that moment when you and history collide.

The museum of Political Life – like most of the museums we’ve visited – is huge. I don’t know how many rooms – but it wraps in and around 3 or 4 different buildings – sometimes I’m walking up or down marble steps, sometimes I think this must have been servants quarters. The exhibits start in 1900 – we’re talking fairly current history here – and focus on the Russian perspective. We start in the latter days of Nickolas II – see his letter of resignation, and stand in the train car that took him and his family into what he hoped would be temporary exile.

The Bolsheviks come to power, the split happens between Lenin and the ‘hard’ liners – Stalin comes to power, things go from bad to really seriously bad. Hitler invades to everyone’s surprise – Stalin had assumed that since he and Hitler shared so much in common – including a love of torturing any one who disagreed with them – that Hitler would leave Russia alone. Wrong.

The war ends with jubilation in the streets of St. Petersburg, but that feeling of new hope, new beginings dies young and the cold water starts. The museum continues thru the Thaw, and ends in 2000 – Yeltsin gives his new year speech announcing his surprise retirement, and Putin takes over.

The exhibits run the gambit from collections of old papers and photographs to multi-media effects – the culmination of which is the side-by-side faces of Yeltsin and Putin on New Years Eve 1999 – one annoucing he is retiring, the other announcing that he is taking over the Presidency of Russia.

I leave the museum not totally sure what hit me – or even how much more I really know about recent Russian History. I do know that in comparison – Canadian History is dull, dull, dull. Thank goodness. I’m reminded of the ancient curse – “May you live in Interesting Times”.

Signing off to consider how little she really knows about history… The Soup Lady

Is there no End to the Hermitage?


Today we are determined to be smarter campers. We will pre-plan our lunch meal at the Hermitage to avoid that horrid excuse for food that the Hermitage cafe has to offer. How do we do this? We visit our favorite pastry shop on Nevsky Prospect – the Stolle. They sell meat pies that remind me of our tortiere – and they are perfect portable food.

So we bulk up on Pies, load up a paper bag (backpacks are not allowed in the Hermitage – but paper bags are definitely ok) and go thru the mandatory

Oh are these the best Pies - and decorated so neatly. And yes - those are the ones they sell. We had lemon tonight for dinner - Yummy like no tomorrow.

Oh are these the best Pies – and decorated so neatly. And yes – those are the ones they sell. We had lemon tonight for dinner – Yummy like no tomorrow.

– line, cloakroom, 2nd line to enter the Museum proper. Man – do the Russians know about queuing. At the Hermitage – unlike at Catherine II’s Summer Palace, they have realized that there is an advantage to divide and conquer. There’s one very short line for people who ordered their tickets over the internet, a similar short line for people who use the automated ticket booths to buy their tickets, and a much much much longer line for people who want personal service. The omnipresent tour groups have their own lines. Thank goodness for that.

Having learned our lesson about avoiding the crowds – and carefully picking our Hermitage day to be on a day when the museum stays open later at night – we figure we’ll have fewer mob scenes to deal with.

Well – sometimes the magic works – and sometimes you just run….

There are two additional tours on offer – the Gold room and the Diamond room. The English versions are carefully planned so that you can’t do both in one day – so we opt for the Gold Room. IT and I are coming back next week – we’ll do the Diamond room then.

But having a scheduled tour means having a deadline. You must be at this location at this time. Good luck working the rest of your visit around that!

We try hard to see sections we missed yesterday – the Imperial Apartments of Nicolas II and his wife – the last Tsar of Russia – the silver room with it’s wonderful special exhibition on vases for holding crosages during a dance – and most importantly to MP – the Loggia of Raphael. This runs along the entire Eastern wall of the ‘New’ Hermitage building – and we make our way there carefully – twisting and turning thru rooms to avoid the heavily trafficed areas with their fear inspiring mob scenes.

At the entrance to the Loggia is one of those tour group face-offs we’ve been avoiding. We watch in stunned amazement as an Italian Group and a Chinese Group battle it out for picture taking supremecy. An Italian Lady elbows a Chinese guest out of her way, and the Chinese lady retaliates with a drop kick number on her Italian foe – leaping boldly in front of her to kneel dramatically to get her shot.

For a moment – the air is filled with tension as the two groups prepare to defend their members – fortunately the Chinese tour group operator – who has probably seen this numerous times – heads off the encounter (which seriously looks to turn ugly) by announcing to his group that they are to head to the right to see an original Raphael. They ceed the ground – and move on.

IT, MP and I walk to the far end of the Loggia, where no tour groups go – and the atmosphere is quiet, relaxed, and calm. We stay there until both groups have left the next room – we are under no pressure to get that perfect shot – we leave the fighting to the clearly experienced!

We wander thru the Knight’s Hall with it’s collection of armour (not my favorite) – ending up in the Flemish Collection – Dozens of paintings by Rubens, Van Dyck and Snyder are displayed, each with a detailed entry in the audio guide. Color us happy.

The Gold Room tour is rather interesting – I’m not much a fan of jewelery that isn’t Regency period – or highly modern – if the stuff is more than 1000 years old, it needs to be pretty special to get me excited. There were a few pieces I thought worth admiring in the collection, including a nice ruby and emerald covered keepsake box. But generally if you’ve seen one gold leaf crown – you’ve seen them all.

We end the day in the Great Church that is inside the Hermitage (as Tsar – you wouldn’t want to leave home to worship – and why should you?). Truthfully – this was probably the highlight of the visit (well – aside from the fight..).

It’s not of course the church itself that is interesting – it’s the guide we bumped into that made our day.

We were trying to decide what was inside a glassed in room inside the church (turns out it was how Catherine would enter the church – no having to handle the crowds I guess), and she offered to explain. Her English was perfect – and we took this opportunity to try to get a better idea about what we’d seen when we’d attended Services on Saturday night.

She explained about the gates opening to the altar and how the lights go on to show the light of G-d going out to the world. She explained that all Orthodox Services are done standing up – even the Tsar’s stood for the entire length of the service. She told us that it was indeed holy oil that was used to paint a cross on people’s foreheads – and then she explained about the kissing of the icons.

We’d noticed that people would bend down to the icons – touch them with their foreheads, then kiss them. She explained that they touch foreheads to the icons to allow the knowledge of G-d into their brains. And they kiss the icons to show love.

So interesting.

It’s well past 7:00 when we exit the Hermitage – knowing full well that we’ve yet to even enter the Staff building with it’s extensive collection of Impressionist art – but we’re done. We need to get organized for dinner – meat pies only take you so far.

Tonight we’re going to eat in – and we stop at the Grocery store to pick up vitials. There I find a Pinot Noir from Moldova, and wonders of wonders – freshly roasted Chicken. A cucumber for veggies – and a selection of Russian cookies for dessert and we’re all set.

Diner at the Suricata is yummy – and very interesting. We ask one of our administrators – a Russian term for a person who is doing everything that is necessary to the well running of an establishment – to join us for a bit of conversation. One of the reasons we like to stay in Hostels is the opportunity we get to learn a bit more about the country. The conversation covers his life story – where he was born, how he came to St. Petersburg, what jobs he’s held while here.

People are – at the end of the day – just people.

Bedtime comes too soon – but off we must go.

Signing off – The Soup Lady – and her travelling buddies – IT and MP

It wouldn’t be an Adventure if things didn’t go wrong


Our plans for today – a Monday – are fairly simple.

MP has a list of ‘must see’ items – among them the amber room at Catherine II’s Summer Palace in Pushkin. We get another rather late start, those lazy breakfast and sleeping in mornings are going to be the doom of us – and head out by metro/bus to Pushkin.

The directions, as per the Lonely Planet Guide book are simple. The Palace is only open from 12 to 2 for individual visitors – so arrive around 12.

Oh – how I wish I’d done some internet searching BEFORE venturing out to Pushkin.

Going by metro/bus wasn’t the fastest option – it took about an hour to get from our central location to the bus stop nearest the Palace. Part of that time was wasted trying to find the correct bus stop at the metro station. Fortunately, while people may not speak English – they are great with numbers and pointing – so we eventually end up in front of a MacDonalds – getting on the right bus!

We ride, and ride – the country side of the paintings we’d seen in the Russian Museum unrolling in front of our eyes. Pushkin is a town that grew up around the Tsar’s Palace, and it’s really a bedroom community for St. Petersburg. Lots of flats and square concrete buildings dating probably to the Soviet era. Landscaping is pretty pedestrian – clearly not a priority for the flat owners. Too bad too – with a bit of care these buildings might look quite nice. Today they look badly in need of a paint job and some basic concrete repair work.

Helpful souls on the bus push us off when we arrive at our destination. We walk around a corner – and there it is – in all it’s Russian dome glory! The garden that surrounds the palace looks amazing – but it is completely fenced off from us common types. Clearly you must enter from the palace ticket office.

As we walk towards the Palace, along a small creek that has been carefully scluptured with water falls and lava rocks, we notice the begining of bad news. There is a mob of people outside of the gate. Carefully lining up – no barriers, no controls – just huge long long lines.

As we get closer – we realize that there are 3 ticket booths – each with it’s own long line. We join the shortest (but not fastest unfortuantely) and then IT and MP go out hunting for lunch.

I wait patiently in line for their return.

Lunch consists of Russian Fast Food – mystery meat rolls in a yummy bread crust. I do enjoy these things – but I wish I had some Ketscup. They are really the predecessors of our Tourtiere – only hand sized!

Anyway – once MP and IT return, I decide to investigate further. It turns out that Lonely Planet was completely, utterly wrong. Things have drastically changed at Catherine II’s Summer Palace. Today you are given a time slot based on when you arrive at the ticket booth – and the slots range from 10:00 am to 8:00 pm. That’s all good – but we have theatre tonight – what times are they giving out now? Given the disorganized queuing process – 3 booths, 3 lines – worst queuing method ever – it’s not a surprise that there’s no sign saying what the next times to be distributed are. In fact – there’s no information – just endless queues. I’m totally reminded of some of the opening scenes in Robin William’s film – “Moscow on the Hudson”.

Finally I can’t take the lack of information any longer, and I go stand next to the exit line at our booth – and try to peer at someone’s ticket. Noticing my interest, they kindly ask if they can help – and I explain I’m trying to see what time slots are being assigned. 5:00 PM is the answer.

Won’t work. It’s 12:30 now – we are definitely not going to hang around the palace – you can’t even visit the garden until your time slot – and then miss ‘Sleeping Beauty’.

So we pack it in – no Amber room for MP today.

According to Lonely Planet – there is another palace, almost as nice, within a short bus ride of Catherine II’s monster. It’s called Pavlovsk – for Paul I. And it sounds really perfect. We walk back to the bus stop – and after several false starts – get on the right bus to Pavlovsk. After a ride quite a bit longer than we’d hope for – the bus actually takes us right to the ticket booth of the Palace. And there is no line. Perfect.

Oops – not so perfect. The palace is closed for Sanitary Cleaning. What? Not announced, not planned, not on the schedule – just – the palace is closed. A private tour guide is standing at the ticket booth giving grief to the poor defenseless ticket agent – who can only sigh, shake her head, and repeat – it’s closed.

Having few options – we decide to make the best of what is rapidly becoming a disaster – and at least visit the park.

The garden is lovely – no two ways about that. And it is huge. I keep thinking what an amazing place to ride horseback – or to wander in a lovely dress and a parasol. We are passed by a bride and groom in a horse drawn carriage – what a lovely day and place to celebrate your wedding. (sigh)

We enjoy the surroundings, then get back on the bus to head back to St. Petersburg. Seriously hungry by the time the bus meanders back to the metro stop, we opt to eat an early dinner/late lunch of rice with a meat sauce. Then it’s onto the metro and we head back downtown.

Thinking we had plenty of time – we get off at one of the downtown stations – and we plan our walk to include another of MP’s must sees – the Bronze Horseman. This iconic statue was made famous in a poem by Pushkin, and is the northern most anchor of a large public park. We wander past St. Issac’s Cathedral, admire the horseman, take photo’s of the Russian’s enjoying the garden around the horseman, admire the river, and than continue our walk towards the Theatre.

We thought that our Ballet began at 7:30 – and are surprised at how quiet the area around the new ‘Mariinsky’ was. Where are all the guests? The staff admitts us – points us to the cloakroom to deposit our back-packs – and then shows us the elevator (wow – an elevator). We get off on the 4th floor – but when we try to enter the theatre – the very pleasant hostess tells us that we can only stand. Surprised – we walk in – to discover that the ballet started at 7:00

Oops. It’s the middle of Act I – the child has been born, and the fairies are doing their dances. We sit on the steps (we couldn’t stand for even 10 minutes to be honest) – and watch in amazement at the spectacule. This is ballet as it should be. Even from the 4th level – we’re so close to the stage I feel like I could reach out and touch the dancers.

The ‘new’ hall is all blonde wood and muted colors – but unlike the concert hall in Montreal which also features a new design – here the acoustics are wonderful, and the dancing sublime.

Time flys by – we get to take our seats for act II, relax during Act III – but most enjoy Act IV. After the evil fairy is defeated – there is the wedding feast – and all the fairy tale characters – from Puss in Boots to Red Riding Hood and her wolf show up to celebrate the marriage. The dancing in this section is no longer the restrained classical style of the first acts – instead the dancers and the audience are caught up in the fun and delight of the fairy tale characters. Oh – such fun.

I haven’t seen much ballet – in fact I can’t remember the last ballet I saw. But it doesn’t take an expert to realize that this is ballet at a vastly surperior level. The ballet corp is both numerous and well trained – at one point we counted over 100 dancers on the stage. There were kids as well – all sorted by height, all dancing with a level of experience that is shocking for us to see. It is as if they have been dancing forever – and I suppose perhaps they have!

Perfectly sculptured legs, dramaticly high leg lifts, and men who leap and soar seemingly weightless fill the stage. We can’t help but be impressed, thrilled, delighted and pleased.

We leave the theatre promising ourselves not to arrive late the next night – and consider walking home. Nope – we’re wiped – Taxi it is. Problem – where do we live. I know where it is of course – but I have no address – certainly not one to give a taxi cab driver who speaks only a spattering of English.

Decision – take us to the Hermitage – we’ll walk from there.

He does – we do – and it’s bed time!

The host at the hostel is thrilled to see us – they didn’t realize we were going to the theatre – and had expected us back much much earlier. But all is well – and we’re wiped.

Signing off – MP, IT, and you know who… The Soup Lady!

Ah plans – such great plans we had for St. Pete’s


When I was doing my research on St. Petes – the best hostel for our purposes seemed to be the MIR. It is extremely well located – 2 minutes to a metro station, 4 minutes to the Hermitage – and it offered private rooms. I carefully took 2 rooms – one for the Intrepid Traveler and I to share, and one for MP and her suitcase. And they were extremely helpful and efficient at getting us the papers needed for our Visas.

In Russia – in order to get a visa – which is required before you leave home – you must know where you will be staying, and of course you must have your tickets to leave. No problems if you are using a travel agency based in Russia – but if you are an independant traveler like MP, IT and myself – well – not that easy. So while in Canada, I had relied on the wonderfully efficient folks at MIR to get me the necessary paper work – and do it again when we realized I’d given them the wrong names.

So – we arrive at the airport and must admire the size of MP’s suitcase – it literally dwarfs both IT and my tiny carry ons (MP is travelling for 10 days, we’re travelling for 4 weeks – go figure). To get to St. Pete’s – you have several choices – Taxi for around 900 ruples and bus/metro for 68 ruples. We choose bus/metro! What we don’t know is that MP’s suitcase needs it’s own ticket. One for her – one for the suitcase – on the bus, and on the metro too! Hence the nickname!

We quickly realize that there is a HUGE difference between the metro’s in Berlin and those in St. Petes. In Berlin, every station has an elevator – plus escalators. And they are all well signed and easy to find. Not so in St. Pete’s. Ignoring the issue on Cyrillic – which since it’s their language, one expects them to use it – the Russian Metros just don’t have elevators. We did find some escalators in the biggest and deepest stations, but certainly not everywhere – and often they are connected by stairs.

Since both the Intrepid Traveller and I have issues lifting our suitcases – tiny as they are – and MP is dragging Mrs. P, well the lack of elevators is going to be a problem.

Only it turns out – it’s not!

MP tells IT to just wait at the bottom of the staircases until she carries Mrs. P up the steps – she’ll come back for her suitcase. But before she can get back down – and often even before she gets to the top – a young Russian gentleman has noticed IT’s issue – and has grabbed her bag and is carrying it up – or down the steps. Over and Over again! We’re impressed. Is it her white hair? IT says she thinks it’s her bewildered expression!

In any case – we navigate the Metro – figure out fairly quickly how to recognize the first few letters in Cyrillic for each station name – and get where we are going – the front door of the MIR hostel.

As advertised – it’s perfectly located – right on Nevsky Blvd.

Unadvertised – it’s also up 5 flights of stairs – with no elevator.

Ensuite bathrooms or not – this won’t work. The Intrepid Traveller and I stayed in a 5 floor walk-up in Sicily – it almost killed us. And we’re older now. We can’t stay here.

MP and I walk up and up and up, go thru security to enter the hostel (video ID required) – and I throw myself literally on the feet of the hosts. Fortunately the hosts speak excellent English – and they take pity on us. They will both cancel our reservation (no refund on the deposit however) – and find us somewhere else to stay. They call around while I search the internet. It’s a challenge. We can’t find any where that has space, 2 rooms, and ensuite bathrooms – and under 3 flights of stairs. It’s impossible in the hostel world of St. Petes.

Finally – the MIR folks find one that can give us the 2 rooms – but we will be sharing the bathrooms. And the reviews aren’t great – noisy, and small and not well located. But at least it’s a bed for the night. MP and I drag our suitcases and our tired bodies back down the 5 flights – and together the 3 of us head back towards the Metro.

My nose suddenly does a sharp left turn. What is that delightful smell? It’s a Pastry shop – and what a wonderful pastry shop it is too! Traditional Russian Pies – some with meat, salmon, onion and egg – and some with Strawberry, Cherry, Cranberry, and Apple. And coffee. Good coffee.

No lunch – little breakfast – and 5 flights up and down have me feeling completely drained – it’s time to stop. So we do. And it’s delicous. And the lovely young waitress speaks excellent English. Sigh – things are looking up in St. Petes.

The name of this haven – Stolle – and afterwards I look it up in Tripadvisor – it’s #88 of 8,034 restaurants in St. Pete’s. Pretty good nose, eh?

While MP and the Intrepid Traveller relax over their tea and crumpets – I search the net for another option – and I find one – the Suricata Hostel

It’s about 7 minutes walking from where we are – only one flight of stairs to navigate – the half-a-dozen reviews are all positive – and at this point. I’m ready to try anything that doesn’t have a description that includes noisy. But how to make sure they have room? And we have reservations elsewhere. It’s back up the 5 flights of stairs to the only people I know in St. Pete’s that a) speak English and b) have a phone that isn’t calling Canada first.

The folks at Mir come thru again – they reach the owner of the Suricata – and we’re booked into a 4 bed dorm – holding all 4 beds for just the 3 of us. Yes we’ll have to use a shared bathroom – but there’s only one short flight of stairs – and the reviews are good.

We’re off.

The Suricata is a brand new hostel – I think we are the 2nd guests – and everything still has it’s IKEA labels attached. We are the only guests – so it’s really a fairly large apartment for 3. The bathrooms aren’t en-suite – we have to walk past the extremely friendly security and front desk and consierge all rolled into one very pleasant young Russian man – to get to the bathroom or the showers – but the beds are nice, the room has a huge window, and there’s a washer! The kitchen is tiny by hostel standards – and if they ever get the dorm rooms (there’s one with 8 beds and another with 10) filled – there won’t be enough room or toilets for everyone – but for us – for now – it’s perfect.

We’re home.

For dinner we wander the streets, eventually finding what turns out to be the most standard of designs for ‘low-cost’ eating in St. Petes – a cafeteria. But it’s a nicer cafeteria – with friendly helpful ‘chef’s’ behind stations – and prices clearly posted. I have a chicken dish, The Intrepid Traveller feasts on a version of a sauage roll and MP enjoys veggies and chicken dish as well. We’ll actually probably coming back – the combination of easy to understand what you’ll be eating – even if the seasoning – while delicous – is surprising at times, and the low cost is hopelessly appealing!

Bed time for bunny rabbits – tomorrow will be a busy day

The Soup Lady and her traveling companions – the Intrepid Traveler and Mr. Piatgorsky signing off.

Carnival Time in Berlin – Who Knew?


I couldn’t have planned the timing of our trip to Berlin better if I had tried – but I’m ahead of myself a bit. I’ll back-track and then move forward in time sequence.

Our landing in Berlin at the smaller airport of Schoenfield was uneventful – luggage arrived, bus to metro organized – no problems at all.

We opted to take the bus in all the way to Hermannplatz – we could have switched to the Metro – but riding the bus gave us time to get a feel for the outer limits of Berlin – probably the only time we’ll actually see where ‘real’ people live!

Once we arrived at Hermannplatz – finding the Cat’s Pajama’s hostel was also simple. And what a lovely hostel it is too. And yes – Pet very very friendly! But that doesn’t bother us a bit.

Our room is a small, but a very nicely located double -on the third floor with shower en-suite – Overall – it compares nicely to more expensive places – it even has a 27″ flat screen TV (not that we’ve even turned it on yet). First time I’ve seen that in a hostel. And at least every other day maid service. In a Hostel! Top that Marriot.

As expected – there’s a huge kitchen, 3 full fridges for people to store their food in – and there’s a party happening tonight. Free bratwurst and Free beer – all you can eat and drink.

Nice way to be welcomed to Berlin, eh?

Turns out that this is the start up to Whit Sunday – or Pentacost. The Intrepid Traveller knew this was a big deal in the Catholic Church – what we didn’t know is that it’s a big deal in the Hermannplatz area. Once a year – on this Sunday – there is a huge – huge – huge Parade! It starts at noon on Sunday – and lasts till 9:30 in the evening. Over a million people will be watching. And it all happens right outside the door to our hostel. It’s a diversity parade – if you have a group – you can join. The ‘floats’ and I use that term very generously – range from wagons pulled by the participants to highly decorated vans and trucks. The music is loud and raucous – the dancers in many cases barely clad. Head dresses and tail feathers with thongs of various sizes were the norm – not the exception. There were groups of drum core teams, there were lots and lots of folks representing various Native tribes – from all parts of the world. Africa, South America – you name it.

It was the Berlin version of Mardi Gras on a penny-wise budget – but playing to an audience of over a million. The Intrepid Traveller and I can’t think of anything in Montreal that would pull such a crowd.

Before the parade started – we had to go to church of course. I picked the Cathederal of Berlin – I mean – why not. And we picked High Mass. So we were treated to a full orchestra, a choir of about 30 young ladies and a male soloist, the church organ with it’s over 7000 pipes, the current arch-bishop of Berlin, 5 more priests, countless alter boys and girls, enough incense to full the huge church – and confirmation!

It dawned on me about 1/2 way thru that the only way to really enjoy church music is when it is played to an audience of devotees. And it is glorious. The building resonated with the music – the audience hung on every note. Magnificant.

So – Pentacost services, Carnival Parade – and for dinner – Doner and Pizza. Hey – it’s Berlin.

Signing off to plan tomorrow’s adventures.. The Soup Lady and the Intrepid Traveller.