Prague, Day 1, Arrival

My trip to the airport included an impromptu tour of Atlanta, initiated by a combination of rush hour 5pm traffic and President Obama being in town. In a quest for short cuts, Robert drove us down side streets from Buckhead to the Bluff.

Air France was fab with their usual chic, efficient, ironic service. The NOLA socialite next to me moved to join her husband and  Papillion dog, Mignon, and I had the row to myself. The seat flattened out. I lay my head down, hoping to rest my eyes, and didn’t wake up until they turned up the lights and were wheeling breakfast down the aisle. Merci!

Landed in Paris and in less than two hours boarded the plane to Prague. I snorted when I saw the only difference between business class and coach on that flight was three rows and a curtain, but then the plane prepared to take off and only four people were in that section. I had my three seats across row to myself. They served chilled shrimp and hot olive bread. The thing I thought was an odd turnip turned out to have wee tentacles, so I guess it was a squid of some kind. Gack. The tiny pastries made up for it.Landed in Prague much more alert and comfortable than I’d had any expectation to be. My driver was waiting with my name on a card. We walked to where was parked outside and across the street from the airport, but conveniently in front of bank with an ATM, so I grabbed the opportunity to withdraw some Czech cash.

Traffic was heavy and the cordial driver explained the president of China was in town, much to the citizenry’s dismay. Havel was pro-Tibet; their new Prez is sucking up to the Chinese. People are wrapping themselves in Tibetan flags in protest. Don;t get me started on politics, I begged the driver, I’ve had more than enough of that at home. Obligingly, the talk turned to architecture.

The hotel staff were waiting for me with an umbrella though it was barely misting. My luggage was taken to my room while I was warmly welcomed. They were more than pleasant. They acted like I was an elderly relative who might include them in my will. They had art recommendations and offered me some exquisite praline truffles that were bliss on the tongue.

There are only 19 rooms. It’s reminiscent of the Orfila in Madrid, only even more lush. The walls feature art by a local painter of city scenes, which here means medieval, renaissance, and 18 c architecture.

I bounded out to find milk and another ATM – successful, though it took a few minutes of coaxing to get my phone to behave. And I saw this little bridge between two houses, my first taste of Praha charm.

My room is a velvet and gilt and Oriental rug jewel box. Glorious views. Absolutely silent.

The bathroom features heated floors and  a Japanese toilet that lights up, has a heated seat, and electronic controls to raise and lower the lid, The demo by the staff made me go off into fits of giggles. After a hot bath in a deep tub, I stayed awake until 1:30 am Prague time, then slept with the windows open.

Suit Up & Show Up

Spent time this weekend sorting through my suitcase packing list. Most of it stands from the last three trips – same amount of time on the road, at the same time of year. The main difference is the expected weather conditions for a city located at about the same latitude as Oslo, Stockholm, and Helsinki, and as far north as Alaska.  Last year in April it was cold, wet and rainy in Prague, and colder, wetter and rainier in St. Petersburg. This requires clothes that will withstand the elements;  a hoodie and a scarf won’t do.  My system is always layer up, so I’ve added a couple of henley-weight long sleeve shirts, thorlo socks, mittens, my knit viking hat,  and a lightweight but toasty Mountain Hardware jacket. A pair of waterproof mid-calf boots, a sleek, warm, rain-proof coat, and a serious umbrella will keep me dry.  When you pack as light and tight as I do, I’m hard-pressed to fit it all into my main carry-on size case and my compact fit-under-the-seat sized carry-on. I’m hoping to spread it around the two cases, stuff socks and knickers in the boots, use space bags to squeeze down the rest.

I gained a little room because my iPhone doubles as my map, camera, alarm, translator, guides, and flashlight. My iPad is my library, thanks to my Kindle and Nook apps, as well as in-depth museum guide apps. It can do most of the same tricks my iPhone can do. There are no Apple stores, but there are Apple products for sale, so if bad fortune befalls me (like push comes to shove on the metro and thieves make off with my auxiliary brains) I can hope to replace them.

I’ve been setting clothes and shoes aside, ready to pack when the day came. I choose dark  colors to get the maximum wear out of least number of items. Bonus: it all but eliminates time spent dithering over what to wear, because it doesn’t matter. The answer is always what’s clean (or clean enough). Last year raspberry was my accent color.  This trip I’m adding a couple of blue shirts and socks to my perennial black and gray. The new coat is a soft gray-blue, and my very nice umbrella is sky blue with puffy white clouds.

Packing is pretty Zen. Everything I think might work is heaped on chairs and dresser tops in the guest room, then it’s process by elimination.  If I need four long-sleeved shirts and have ten that might work, I pick the four that compliment each other  best. I set each item on the guest room bed, marking it off the list as I go. I try on things that look fine, but might not fit or feel right, to be sure. When I’d gone through it all, I  launder everything, with a second rinse cycle. I’ve discovered the hard way that walking eight hours a day chafes my tender skin if there’s any trace of laundry detergent left in the denim. And yes, my pants – all three of them – are black or dark gray denim.  I am visiting cultural capitals, not the country side, not the coast, not resorts. Blue jeans feel too casual, black jeans seem just that bit more formal and appropriate.

Of course, everything looks better with a cavalier.

 

Prague: the good, better, delightful, and bad news.

Put together an itinerary, beginning with Prague; cross-referencing museums and boiling down it into searchable cliff notes – addresses, hours and days, permanent collections and temporary exhibitions. I do preliminary mapping of the city so I have a clue (My Maps in Google Maps is a God-send) of what’s near where.  For a place that started out as a prolonged stopover en route to Russia, it’s turned into something far more interesting.

One of the handiest things I did on my last trip was to put the addresses of every venue (museums, churches, restaurants, ATMs, shopping) in an email to myself. When I needed to find a place, or show a taxi driver where to go, it was all right there on my iPhone – ready for a quick click and paste into on Google Maps. I’ve graduated into making my own Google Maps with this information preloaded and then downloaded, so I won’t waste all too valuable internet data whenever I am following the map on foot. So that’s done.

I made a preliminary day by day calendar, noting all state owned venues are closed Mondays; and grouping places by proximity.

The good news – I forgot how much I’d covered back in July – my hotel is paid, including breakfast all at a substantial discount. Tea kettle for my room is arranged, pick up and drop off at the airport set, half-day guide booked.

More good news – senior discounts are substantial, usually half price. And I qualify. W00T!

Better news – the main points of interest for me are all nearby; a 5-15 minute walk or same time via bus/tram from the hotel.

Delightful news – St Nicholas Church*, a lovely venue five minutes walk from my hotel, hosts frequent concerts. The majority of them showcase the organ, played by Herr Mozart himself back in the day, 

and liturgical music., but on Thursdays they change it up. This a prime example of why I bother with all the research. My first week in Prague their program features the oboe, an instrument I’ve adored since the duck entered the musical story of Peter and Wolf. The second Thursday spotlights the trumpet. I can’t imagine a more soul stirring sound and a better location. The concerts start at 6pm, and even I can stay up that late. I bought my half price senior discount tickets on line, and printed them out. Boo yah.

The bad news – I compiled the last three years of weather from March 29-April 10 and it’s not pretty. Read it and weep.

2013 rain 3 days, snow 4 days, partly sunny 4 days. Temps 24-41

2014 rain 5 days, partly sunny 7 days. Temps 31-63

2015 rain 5 days, snow 3 days, partly sunny 3days. Temps 32-54

The odds favor fairly miserable, soggy, arctic conditions for this southern woman. There will be no strolling around the center of the old town, gazing at the centuries old architecture while demolishing a double scoop of gelato. Any amount of rain – and mostly it was marked as thunderstorms, not playful spring showers – and I’ll be tapping my iPhone for UBER. Local taxi are notoriously shady. Again, TGIU.

But to end on an upbeat note, I am disregarding the advice  of  Thoreau to “beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.” I found the perfect coat online. Waterproof, warm, lightweight, and sleek. Take that, sleet and snowflakes!

*Named for that jolly old soul who symbolizes the corruption of Christmas from a holy occasion to gloves off, all out orgy of greed, but hey – it wasn’t his idea.

 

Boris & Natasha & Peter & Catherine

Here’s a short list of what formed my impressions of Russia. My earliest images would be Boris Badenov and Natasha Nogoodnik on the Rocky and Bullwinkle show.

The Cuban missile crisis and Nikita Khrushchev’s banging his shoe when I was 10. My dad taking me out in the backyard at night to see Sputnik crossing the sky. There was always the background cultural noise of Cold War saber rattling.

When I traveled and lived in Europe in my twenties, I read the biographies and autobiographies of  writers. The diaries of Sophia, Tolstoy’s wife, left a strong impression on me, as did Nabokov’s memoir, Speak Memory. I didn’t get around to reading Russian novels until I fell in love with Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov in college, around age 28.  Around the same time I read about the Greats, Catherine and Peter, the doomed Romanovs, and lusty Rasputin.

There were the Bond movie super villains, including the reptilian Rosa Krebs. Oh, and of course Dr Zhivago, of which I only dimly recall troikas in the snow and throbbing balalaika music.

I watched the movie REDS more than once, mostly for the writer-on-writer love. Skip ahead to Mugatu’s Russian henchwoman, Katinka, in Zoolander, and back to this little gem from the 1980s ‪https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CaMUfxVJVQ and that’s about it for me.

I’ve got a stack of TBR history, biography and literature that’s Russian-centric, plus some audio lectures on literature that I’m loving. I gave Gogol’s Dead Souls (as interpreted by Monty Python alumni) a listen. I’m currently switching back and forth between biographies of Peter the Great and Great Catherine, by Carolly Erickson.

 

Looking forward to having my childhood notions and literary preconceptions replaced with actual experience.

 

Why St. Petersburg?

It’s all about the holy grail of the Hermitage.

The Hermitage has always been on my top five list (along with Louvre, Metropolitan, National, Prado) but seemed daunting and out of reach because of the politics, the rigors of the journey to get there, and the climate.

I’d looked at it and backed away more than once in the last ten years. I’d peek at the visa requirements, or signs in Cyrillic, and shake my head. The fact I was raised in the cold war days when the USSR was the definition of the enemy played into it too. I had about decided to let it drop off my list, the way I’ve dropped Asia and Australia. Too much for me to handle. Then a couple of things happened.

1. I visited a dear friend, my auxiliary mother, on Mother’s Day at her assisted living facility. Brought her a picnic. We talked a little about Madrid, and she said, ‘I hope you are planning to visit the Hermitage, dear.’ That’s all she said, but it was enough.

2. .I followed up by looking to see what Rick Steves had to say. He’s a pretty straight shooter. Here’s a quote – “St. Petersburg is Russia’s most accessible and most tourist-worthy city…. Two of the world’s greatest art museums and some sumptuous Orthodox churches top it off. While this place can be exasperating, it is worth grappling with. Beyond its brick-and-mortar sights, St. Petersburg gives first-timers a perfect peek into the enigmatic Russian culture.” Steves does regular guided tours there. And all those cruise ships. Even my Great Aunt Bunny has been to the Hermitage on a cruise ship.

3. They have UBER. I kid you not. I feel like I can tackle anyplace armed with my trusty UBER app.

4. I have Google Maps and Google Translate. I can hold up my phone over a Cyrillic sign or menu and bam! read it. It couldn’t be worse than my non-existent Spanish.

5. Yea, the visa thing is crazy, but there are hundreds of companies that will do it for you. The hard part was narrowing it down to a trustworthy, fairly priced one. By asking around on FB, I got three seasoned traveler’s recs, one of them close by.

6. My nephew who lives in Florence (introducing American brands, specifically Frye Boots, to Europe) is very enthusiastic. He’s been many times. He says the Hermitage was made for me, it’s an experience I must not miss. His emails of encouragement, and tips on where to stay, etc, have gone a long way to getting my spouse on board.

7. The Hermitage has a Friends of the Hermitage deal that is almost exactly like the one at the Louvre. That’s right, for a paltry fee I can join and then visit as often as I like, waltzing to the head of all the lines.

8. The dollar is very strong compared to the ruble.

Until this all started falling into place, Rome was my next destination, but my heart just wasn’t in it. I truly yearned to go to the Hermitage. When I decided to give it one last push, one door after another opened. Looking at this list, I realize the development of the iphone as a major traveling tool, plus my success figuring out the Paris and Madrid trips were game changers for me.

When to Go – Apparently St Petersburg is either freezing or sweltering. II wanted to dodge the season when cruise ships disgorge 40,000 people a day and it tops 80 degrees. That would be June, July, August.

March is unremitting ice and snow. April is still cold as a welldigger’s shoes, but toward the second half of the month is more slush than ice. May is nippy and rains. After some hesitation, I picked late April. I may still need long johns, though I hear the museums are toasty, but I prefer warm clothes to mosquito repellent. Seriously, better nippy than sweaty.

Where to stay – My nephew wants me to stay at the Astoria. After a week comparing hotel websites, I decided not to stay in the center of town (um, remember Madrid?) and to go for the #1 TA pick for guesthouse, Alexander House. I love how rooms have themes but are not fussy, the space and light. It’s an amazing world when you can send an inquiry via email, get a response in minutes and, after a few more emails to firm up cost and perks, have your new Russian bestie Ekaterina confirm your reservation. Using Siri to respond while you drive to the gym. Just sayin’.

I was on the fence about staying at the .Astoria. Honestly, any place that assures me that they will unpack my luggage and press my evening wear the day I arrive really isn’t the place for me. But I also think I ought to split where I stay in case there is a problem – like heinous noise at night. And by staying in different areas of the city, you get a different experience of the city. So I booked the last six days of my trip at the Astoria.

What to do – The Hermitage. It’s huge. I won’t wear it out.

Next post – Why Prague? Plus nabbing a great plane ticket, hotel reservations, and research research research.