We flew west to St. Petersburg. The long approach through the air gave us a spectacular view as the pilot seemed to tilt the plane just to show off the panorama. The waterside city seemed far more peaceful than it’s capital neighbor Moscow to the east as the late-morning sun washed the cold countryside.
You can get an accurate read of a city in a 20 minute cab ride. In this case we powered through the ambitious and ornate urban corridors with a hurried but high-spirited driver. He seemed to be on our team without knowing him. I do think that sometimes the cabbies get word of some band they are picking up and get confused that we are the Backstreet Boys (rather than just their opener) and treat us with more respect or try to get us to pay more. Fame by proxy.
The rooms were cozy and warm…almost like an aunt’s extra bedroom…and we sang for the hotel staff (later our good friends). After our ceremonial hour break to unpack, shower, etc., we headed to one of the coolest venues I’ve ever seen (much less sung at). It was a punk-rock warehouse/garage turned concert hall with a maze of steel-beamed spaces piled around each other. People seemed well-to-do and good humored and the show slammed; so much so that we met some people afterwards who were willing to have us over for spaghetti at their restaurant. We decided to take them up on it and jumped in a cab with and address and our Russian proficiency limited to Cyrillic-cognate.
He dropped us off in the middle of the street and pointed to where it ought to have been…and of course it wasn’t. We ran into a British-themed pub and got Alex to call our hotel and ask them to call the people we met to ask directions. While we waited on a second cab, he poured us a drink and we chatted about music. Low-and-behold the next taxi finally pulled up and took us to the right place. The lights were off so I ran around the back alleyways of St. Petersburg looking for the employee entrance, but by the time we made it our friends had departed. So back we went defeated, hungry, and with a bit less cash. The front desk seemed to know what happened and offered us a consolation lunch-box. We sat with them and ate at 2 in the morning.
Next up, Munich.