Welcome to St. Petersburg

First of all, I'd like to say thank you to Jon and Kim. As a few of you know, I was dreading having to wait 9 hours at Heathrow for my flight, as my coach arrived at 21.25 when the flight was at 6.55 the next day. Luckily, they live near the airport, so instead I had a very pleasant evening of beer, pizza and youtubing, a comfortable place to lie until 3.15 when the txi was due, and tea and fruit to steal. Which was grand.

Secondly, I'd like to scream obscenities at whoever is responsible for the travel agent and BAA airport websites telling me that I needs to be there 3 hours before departure, so that I couldn't get anything resembling sleep and had to get the bus the night before instead of the one early in the morning, paying 2 pounds to change the ticket. Was the check in open 3 hours ahead? No, it didn't open until 5.15. Grrrr...

Otherwise the trip went well, fairly uneventful thankfully given how knackered I was. It took about 3 hours of actual flying, as apparently Russia is 3 hours ahead, not 2, with a brief glimpse of misty Swedish woods at Stockholm, then the first views of Russia: a fishing boat, what must be one of the palaces of Peter the great, then fields and woods, a huge long straight road disappearing into the horizon, and finally the airport.

The instructions to get to the hostel "All Seasons" from the hostel website and the guidebook were fine, I had no problems. The Metro is a bit wierd: there's no platform, everyone just waits in a corridor down which there are big metal doors like for lifts, which the doors of the train line up with, very grim and industrial. Then there are no signs to say what station it is, just an announcement in Russian. Generally, it's not that different from Western Europe, most things seem a little old that's all, though the plague of SUVs seems to have reached even here.

The hostel is alright, only just over 3 pounds 50. Not spectacular, and you'll have to wait for photos because this PC they've got is way to old for me to trust plugging my camera in to it, but comfortable enough. For some reason, someone thought it was a good idea to paper the dorm with bara-brick-effect wallpaper, so it looks worse than it is.

Thanks to the airport debacle, I'm knackered, so when I got here they took my passport to be registered and I had a nap for 3 hours, exploring the city can wait until tomorrow. When I awoke the pleasantly warm temperature had dropped to something pretty chilly, so I'm glad I lugged my big coat around with me already.

Just now one of my new dorm mates came in, a half-Belosusian half-African guy here for a breakdance competition. Apparently last night he and some friends almost got beaten up by some skinheads, but luckily he got away, though they managed to nick his bag with his passport and helmet for headspinning. Welcome to St. Petersburg I spose!

PS: For anyone going to Russia, the immigration card you have to fill in is not like the example on the Russian Embassy London website! It asks you for the name and address for your inviting organisation and the invitation number, and has no English translation, though luckily Scandinavian Airlines provided their own.