September 13, 2013
Saint Petersburg: Friday the 13th
I was only really staying in the hostel so that I would be registered with the authorities and amazingly this was the first night that I had spent in any hostel for four years - a sleepless night reminded me why. I had positioned myself in the bed nearest to the balcony where my bike was, but this meant I was first in line when the mosquitoes came in through the open door, which they did frequently. The young guy from Dagastan was puzzled by my complaints the next day. He was in the bed farthest from the door and had no trouble and he took great good delight in acting out a charade of a mosquito going from bed to bed getting fatter and fatter before exploding just before reaching his bed. It was actually quite funny. Even when the mosquitoes were giving me a break I was further disturbed by the entrance of a couple who checked in to the hostel at two in the morning and were shown noisily to the room before making an equally noisy exit five hours later. Add to all this a snoring Kazakh and you've got a perfect night.
But the morning brought bright sunshine and was a perfect day for sightseeing and so this I did. St Petersburg is a very fine city indeed, an architectural wonderland. Here are some of the best bits for your viewing pleasure:
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In the morning I was accosted by an African man asking me if I was interested in going on a boat trip. I certainly was not interested in going on a boat trip (unless it was a solar boat and it was free, or if the boat was going to Australia, neither of which was the case) but I was so taken aback at hearing someone speak English to me that I immediately decided to make a friend of this man. His name was Franklin, he asked me to guess where he was from and was very impressed when I correctly guessed Ghana. He told me he was a student here, and that he had to study in Russian. I was much more impressed about that because studying in any foreign language is difficult, never mind in one that considers 3 to be a letter. He was really a great guy, all smiley and enthusiastic, I'm sure he sold a lot of boat trips. I wished him well and continued on walking around the city.
Several hours later, having walked around everything, gone back to the hostel for some pasta, and then gone out walking again to see the city after dark, I returned to the area around the Hermitage where I had met Franklin. It was no great surprise to see him still there, cheerfully talking to everyone he could about the evening cruises. I said hello again and we talked some more. Now I was really surprised to learn that poor Franklin was not working for commission, and he got a paltry sum as an hourly wage too.
"Franklin, why do you work so hard? You could just stand around and you'd get paid the same?!" I pointed at a girl also working for the boat company who was sitting on a step looking at her phone.
"I know man, I just love talking to people." He said, pulling away from me to wave his leaflets and his smile at two beautiful blonde girls. Oh, by the way, Russia has the most beautiful girls in the world, which might have something to do with it.
At this point I noticed for the first time a rickshaw pedicab sitting near us in the large square. I went over to say hello and was glad to find out that the rider Yefgeny, spoke English. I was a little sorry because he was sat looking quite depressed and perked up as I came over before reverting quite quickly back to depressed when I opened with a rickshaw operator's least favourite line "Hello, I don't need a lift but..."
I was surprised to see him because I had assumed the roads in St Petesburg were just too dangerous for rickshaws. I had seen very few cyclists and they had almost all been on the pavement not the road. He said that they cycled the pedicabs in the road but they weren't allowed on the main roads during the daytime. He also told me that there were only seven pedicabs in the whole of the city, but he still made very little money. This, I'm quite sure was because he was sitting in his pedicab looking quite depressed and not talking to anyone (something which is known in the trade as 'pulling a Nikolay') What he needed to do was get out there and drum up some business. Suddenly I realised that the perfect solution would be for Franklin to promote Yefgney's pedicab instead of the boat trips. I'm sure that they would both make a lot more money!
I made my way back to the hostel and opened the door to find Юлия (the most beautiful girl in the world) on reception. Was it my imagination or did she look really pleased to see me? I went to my dorm room. 'Young Guy One' and 'Young Guy Two' were both in there, and had been joined by a Syrian man who we shall refer to as 'Slightly-Older-But-Still-Quite-Young Guy Three.' He was able to speak quite a bit of broken English and explained to me that he worked as a beauty therapist and hairdresser, for many years in Egypt, and now in Moscow. What was really amazing was that he was exactly like Borat. I mean, his mannerisms, his accent, the things he said, his ridiculous endearing smile, he was the exact same guy. It was particularly ironic because the actual Kazakh guy sat there quietly being absolutely nothing like Borat whatsover, whilst the Syrian went on; "In Western Europe," he said to me "the hairdresser, he is a very important person in the community isn't he? Everyone looks up to him, he is very respected, very important"
"Well," I said, "not really no."
This was the end of our friendship.
I made my excuses and walked out to the reception area to 'check the weather.' Юлия smiled her beautiful smile at me and beckoned me around to the other side of the desk so that she could write something on the computer and use an internet translation tool to convert alien into English. We talked for ages. By which I mean we typed for ages. She was from Central Russia and had only moved to the city a week earlier to begin a six year medical degree. Franklin had told me the girls in St Petersburg were not very nice, but the girls from the smaller places who visited the city, they were much more friendly and nice. So Юлия was unbelievably beautiful, and she was going to be a doctor, and she was really genuine and friendly and nice. And she kept touching my arm. Holy heck in a hand basket. We talked all night. By which I mean we typed all night. We only stopped to make an omelette. I helped her with her English homework. She helped me learn some Russian. Apparently I was saying 'Where's the stadium?' all wrong anyway. Before we knew it, it was four in the morning and I was completely in love with this girl. The whole universe had stopped and was waiting for me to kiss her, but I did not. Partly because it had only been a week since I had said goodbye to Karin and, contrary to popular opinion I'm not a complete ass, but mostly because I've seen this movie and its always when you go in for the kiss that the beautiful girl turns into her true alien self and I didn't want to open my eyes and find myself locking lips with a hideous monstor (that happened enough times in my drunken student days.)
So, instead of a night of passion with the most beautiful girl in the world, I went to bed and laid awake swatting mosquitoes and listening to a Kazakh man snore.
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