VierFrensis

Gatwick, UK Friday 14th July 2006

Only my second time at this airport and hopefully there won't be a third! Small, busy and rather unpleasent.

Tallinn, Estonia Friday 14th/Saturday 15th July 2006

The flight was more or less on time and we got to the hotel around 11.30pm. The girls were waiting for us with tickets to a club near the port. Literally dumping our bags in the room, we headed out straight away. Club was lively and we found a nice spot by the terrace door. The night was capped off with a comical fight in a all-night bar at 6am. It was time to hit the sack!

Parnu, Estonia     Saturday 16th July 2006    

Before our excursion to the coast we had some flight tickets to change and pancakes to aquaint with. We waited till Angela had finished work before heading to the beach. Mike and I hired a car to drive the two hour trip and fell foul of speeding restrictions. It was unbearably hot and the beach was packed. Lots of activities from volleyball to football were crammed on the sizable golden sands. A local radio station was putting on some live music and this is where we were headed.

We finally left around 10pm (just as the most promising band of the day began their set) and everyone was asleep by half way. After a few communication and orientation problems we got everyone to there homes and headed back to the hotel. Knackered and hungry.

Tallinn, Estonia, again     Sunday 16th July 2006

Had a leisurely day. Booked the ferry to Helsinki, Finland and returned the car. Sorted! We could now relax. During our afternoon stroll we found our way to the port and took some pics. We met the girls after work and went for something nice to eat in the evening. Early to bed? Never! Mick took us to a trendy all-white bar like something out of Clockwork Orange and then onto Club Prive down the road. I was dubious of this nightclub and it was quite small but once inside all was forgotten. The French DJ calling the shots was a wiz and I really enjoyed myself. At around 2am I suggested we call it a night. The comfortable and uneventful 90min ferry journey was leaving at 8am!

Helsinki, Finland Monday 17th July 2006

Looking at a map, I decided it would not be so far to walk from the port to the hotel, and save us some wedge. However, the reality was a tropical marathon! Mick was not pleased but as we neared the location, his thoughts were surely turning towards his afternoon reandevous.

Arriving so early caused a problem as our room wasn't ready. We dropped our bags and went for a scout. Firstly, Helsinki is certainly not the 'Monaco' everyone seems to imagine. Things were no pricier than 'back home' so I don't know where that myth comes from. We were only to spend one night in Helsinki, largely due to a flight cancellation in Tallinn so we wanted to see as much as possible. Some more than others!

Irina? Yes, Irina. Mick's pen friend from St Petersburg was in Helsinki on vacation and agreed to come and meet us. We waited in the hotel foyer for this mystery broad and mick was quite obviously bricking it! She arrived and after a few brief awkward moments we hit the streets for a stroll towards the harbour market.

Not wanting to be the gooseberry I idled ahead of the lovebirds, occasionally stopping for them to catch up. Eventually I had had enough and left them to it. I went back to the hotel with a punnet of strawberries as they walked in the many parks Helsinki had to offer. I wondered what they were talking about.

After what seems like decades, the phone rings and Mick is on his way back. He ended up going on a marathon hike and is pretty much crocked. Its now late evening and the cripple and I hit the streets in search of some well-earned grub. Our initial plans are scuppered when the Pizza Hut up the street is closed so we take the next best option, the Golden Arches!

We hit a couple of bars and draw the curtains on a exhausing day. Thoughts now turn to Moscow and what promises to be a real eye-opener. Good night Helsinki. Taxi for the airport was booked for a brutally early start but once awake we were rewarded with an excellent breakfast at the hotel.

Moscow, Russia Monday 17th July 2006

Well, here we were. From the get-go, these fuckers could smell the Rubles in our pockets. And they wanted them all! Avoiding the piranah-like, gypsy-cab drivers at the airport, we took the official taxi service into moscow and to our hotel, the Ukrania. This is more like it! A quite marvelous and impressively grand building that only dissappointed with its dated rooms. Anyway, we waited for our passports to be officailly stamped and set out in the vague direction of Red Square.

And that is where the dream ended and the Kremlin nightmare began. Lost, Lost, Lost! Could we find it? Hell no. Did we walk 5,000 miles? Hell yes. Our severe lack of Russian and their equally awful lack of helpfullness resulted in a frustrating experience. At this point we were tired, hot and crestfallen. And funnily enough, not far from our hotel!

In a last ditch attempt to find our way, a helpful official in uniform indicated the route far into the distance along a straight, seemeingly never-ending road. 30mins later we crawled into 'the Beautiful Square'. The sun was now setting and illuminated St Basil's Cathederal in a golden glow. It was serene. Our mammoth trek was at long last, fruitful.

Moscow is massive. The wide streets and underpasses characterised the imposing hostility. Policemen on street corners were attempting to supplement their paltry wages by harrassing the locals. It was very disconcerting. But thats the way it is here and everyone accepts that. Searching for the subway in Red Square I was stopped by a pimple-faced teen in police uniform who, spying my spikey hair demanded my documents. Finding I wasn't a Yank and everything in order I escaped with my life and wallet. We still didn't find the subway!

We visited the former state GUM supermarket in Red Square and both bought football shirts. Mick chose Lokomotiv and I went for Spartak. It was a fantastic building but I contemplated how different the experience would have been 20 years ago.

In search of nightlife we found Silver's Irish bar, a stones throw from the Kremlin and the Albion English bar which was even nearer. Ex pats we met suggested we go to the Boar House for the experience and we duly obliged.

Mick was paying us in as I had covered the cab when I peered into the open door. What I saw, only Mick will truly understand. The length of the bar I saw nothing but women, necks craning to see who was coming in. Mouth open, I turned to Mick and said "your not going to believe this buddy!" The place turned out to be a single mans dream, and a married mans hardest hour. These women were here with the sole intention of finding a passport to another life. I can't say I blame them. The oppressive nature of Moscow must make you wish for a more secure foundation. Needless to say, the women were very friendly, drank champagne and wanted to marry you! For a brief few hours, time stood still.

Unsure if we had stumbled into a dream or wormhole, Michael and myself returned the following evening to continue our study and can confirm, yes indeed there is a land that time forgot!

Apologies to Mick for throwing a hissy-fit one evening. But it all blew over and I only wanted to smother him because of his snoring. Honest!

St. Petersburg, Russia Friday 21th July 2006

Aeroflot Rocks! I don't care that the plane was older than myself. I don't care that some of the interior was hanging off. I don't care that the flip-down trays were painted with hammerite. The 6 passangers aboard (including us) experienced the very best landing ever! We were in Pietr. Straight away it was clear that the city was more of a tourist destination than its distant Capital. A cosmopolitan and altogether western ambience filled the streets in the hot afternoon sun. As with every new destination, we put one foot in front of the other to get a feel for the place and see what new experiences it had to offer.

Molly's Irish bar was like home from home and quickly established itself as the springboard for our nightime activity. Just down the road is where we met 'Victor', our dodgy Russian 'pal'. Mick and I stumbled into his bar and circumstances pushed us together for an unforgetable evening. New customs were learned, new cocktails were drunk and some experiences were shared at the 'Havanna' club. As the night became morning we slipped out and Mick found the only man in Russia who didn't want his money! The dude in the kebab kiosk was having none of Mick's drunken banter. Persistant as the boss was, Sergi point-blank refused to play ball. Fucking Hero!

A run in with a pitiful child 'maverick' (begger) who obviously belonged in hospital rather than scowering the streets at 4am topped one night. The most uniteresting Russian Language boat trip sucked up an hour of our valuable time as we rested our aching feet on another evening. Whatever the guide said, I don't think we missed very much!

Quite possibly quote of the trip came from an aging American who upon seeing a couple of friendly faces asked us where the Church of the Spilled Blood was? Having just visited it we were about to point around the corner when he pops up with the classic and still quite unbelievable " You know, the one that looks like Disneyland!" Priceless!

A couple of nights we hung out at a really cool Bistro. Mick had champagne as we watched the ugly local males pick up chicks with the age old charm of flowers. It seemed like magic. A guy in a cheap suit and ridiculously pointed shoes would simply buy a bunch of blossoms from the many street sellers and would leave with the girl. Put simply, we were gobsmacked!. We were recieveing valuable lessons in love from the primitives and I felt out of touch. Mental notes were made and should the opportunity present itself again, don't forget the flowers guys. Romance my friends, Russian style!

In an earlier conversation I remarked to Mick that I really like the way my name was written in Russian. It's pasted into my passport on my visa and looks nothing like Vier Frensis. I also added that if possible, it would be great to have a t-shirt with it printed on the chest. The chances were remote but idling down a dead-end street, I realised my fantasy. Thats another story entirely but there was a t-shirt printing shop there too and in 10 minutes we both left clutching souvenirs to die for. Mick's one was way more gay than mine. For sure! Wearing mine drew a fair bit of attention and was deemed a success.

Special mention must go to the crippled taxi driver who took us from the bust stop to the hotel. His Lada was like something from Wallace and Gromit ! Levers and handles occupied the space beneath the steering wheel where his legs should have been. It was fascinating to watch him. Like a cack-handed steam engine driver. Pavel, Thank you

Riga, Latvia Monday 24th July 2006

I like Riga. For some reason, the moment I set foot in Latvia I knew I was gonna like it. It probably had a lot to do with the immediate contrast it presented after the money-mad Russki's. Viva independance! Riga really is charming. The hotel and its staff were very nice and the first exploration into the centre offered nothing to damped my lifted spirits. Our recce took us down to a market area near the river. Adjacent to this were these enormous structures I later found out were aircraft hangers. Moving inside we found it to be a huge indoor market. You obviously had made it in the market game when you entered the superstructures!

Some of the green areas in Riga were beautiful. The prettiest had a boating lake and bridges you see in old masters paintings. One in particular seemed to serve as a place to confirm your love. Fastened around its railings were hundreds of locks. Some had inscriptions and hearts, others were simply plain. I imagined that couples would come and symbolise their comittment by adding their own. It felt like a special place.

We seemed to take our foot off the gas while in Latvia. It was like an oasis where we could recover our strength and prepare for the final push. Sitting in a square, relaxing with a drink seemed so very different from England's pub culture. I guess thats why we travel...

Vilnius, Lithuania Wednesday 26h July 2006

The journey from the airport to the hotel revealed an old city in need of some TLC. To be honest, it looked like the bombed city of Beiruit. No wonder they are leaving in droves! As we entered the centrum, it improved enourmously. With the flight arriving early evening it was getting late. So we headed straight out for some food and to flavour the ambience. Cool folk were dining and drinking el fresco along a long central island in a trendy high street. So we joined them. Then, a quick sortie unearthed a dimmly lit but ultra cool cocktail bar with prices to stop the heart. I had the non-alcoholic fruit punch which was great.

On the way back into town we had also clocked a nightclub which sported a huge union jack on the door. Chests out and in our best British swagger, we piled in. It would be rude not to. Fucking Result! This place was not only playing some pukka tunes but the place was packed and the drinks were cheap. It was another late one and breakfast passed us by, not for the first time in the holiday.

The following evening disaster struck! For me anyway. Mick on the other hand thought it was hilarious. Upon enter a bar I cautioned to Mick to mind the dodgy step which was just a stack of slabs. Upon exiting same establisment I managed to damn near break my neck! I heard an audible 'crack' as I went over on my ankle and feared the worse. However, it wasn't broken and I was dissapointed by the lack of sympathty I recieved from the locals. Limping toward the nightclub I realised it could hamper the remainder of the trip if I didn't ice it immediately. So we only popped in for a few drinks! I hobbled back to the hotel and got ice from the ajoining bar. It saved the day but its still swollen as I write this and still hurts, Mick!

Warsaw, Poland Friday 28th July 2006

"Now thats what I'm talking about, Willis!" The Sheraton hotel in Warsaw is not only cheap and well situated, its full-on 5 star loveliness. Mick done us proud here. However, he was soon to do a wrong 'un by plumping for 'The New London Steak House'. The worst food of the trip was dished up but I was hungry and it all went down. With a full stomach we attempted to walk it off and check out what Warsaw had to offer.What we found was a pretty and lively centre where couples wandered and groups sat outside bars and cafes enjoying life. It didn't feel like Poland, it felt perfectly laid back and Italian. They sure know how to make smoothies too!

A trip to the old town in the blazing heat demanded an ice cream or 2. One was the most ridiculous and plain phalic ice cream tower that grown men should never eat in public. Brain freeze a go-go!

Some form of battle re-enactment could be heard and very-little-seen the other side of the old town. We jostled for a spot but bid retreat as the explosions began to set off car alarms. What would it have been like for real!

It occured to us that we had become quite continental on our travels. Spanish at least. Both of us took to these afternoon/early evening siestas which recharged the batteries somewhat and provided longer staying power at night. No, not that kind of staying power, we just didn't feel tired like you would.

I managed to upset one of the locals in a club which was obviously down to language problems and british humour. It did ruin an otherwise good night. Sorry Mick!

Up to this point everything was going clockwork. So there had to be something that would try to spoil the otherwise perfectly planned and executed trip. Stand forward Warsaw Airport! At the end of 17 days, 6 countries and 7 flights Poland tried to pull our pants down! Well they did and I hate Warsaw airport. Its reason enough for not going there.

Delays. Seating shortage. Tiny shop. The building work to pull this hellhole out of the dark ages will be finished not a moment too soon.

London, Luton Sunday 30th July 2006

Well, we made it home and its an experience I wouldn't miss for the world. You can't beat travelling. My only advise if you attempt to do something as crazy as this is choose flights around 2pm and the Lenin Mouselium closes at 1pm. Thank you for reading this and please let me know what you think of it.

regards

Vier Frensis