Back in Rostov, Lots to Celebrate

Switched into gypsy mode on a recent Wednesday morning and headed Dallas to Atlanta and then on to Moscow. Caught an overnight train Moscow to Rostov-on-Don, arriving that Friday afternoon just in time for the Day of the City, Rostov's birthday. Oh, and here are some sights from along the way, especially for you. . .

But first, Happy Birthday Rostov! The city celebrated its 261st birthday that weekend, September 17-18. The bank building above overlooks Theatre Square and often sports the biggest poster in town, 14-some stories high.

Oh, but hold on, hold on. . . let's rewind a bit.

First in Atlanta, encouragement to the troops who pass through that airport. Ah yes, would that every soldier who returns would come home to big hugs and yellow ribbon.

Then there's AT&T who offers the Best coverage worldwide. Say, these teapots are worth a closer look. . .

How clever is that! But pity the hand model. Imagine, going through life with such stubby fingers.

Or. . . not.


I hiked from Terminal A to E versus catching the train and finally, here's it is: the escalator up to heaven. . . or maybe up to the departure level. There's a food court up there. And a bookstore. And an interfaith chapel. I ended up visiting two out of three of those spots. . . Not saying which ones. ;)

Two hours before flight time, there's my Delta 46 getting prepped to head east across the big pond. Watching this plane being fueled and fed, I had no clue as to the surprise awaiting me. . .

But first, time to fill, pandas to shoot. Clever, those nifty little leaves in there. Wonder if these pandas are related to that of Eats, Shoots and Leaves fame?

Back to the gate, waiting with 206 of my closest friends for our 4:15 departure for Moscow. I asked the gate agent for a seat, preferably an aisle seat, preferably row F. He worked on that for several minutes which was kind of him, considering the queue.

Later on the plane, I headed through first class back to steerage and couldn't find my seat, 3F, in coach. That's because ~ and this was an absolute surprise to me ~ the gate agent had upgraded me to first class. I was positively euphoric for hours, probably the least sophisticated passenger in first class - it was old hat to everybody else.

I was so overcome that I didn't manage to photograph a single thing. Not even the fine dining with the cloth tablecloths and tray covers. Not even the fully-reclining seats with 75 or so controls and the big fluffy pillows and cottony comforters. And I certainly didn't get a shot of my traveling companion, the guy between me and the window who was in zombie mode the entire trip. You'll forgive me for that, won't you please? Who knows, maybe ~ just maybe ~ someday I'll have a second chance. ;)

Anyway, after 10-ish hours aloft, we landed at Moscow's Sheremetevo Airport, northwest of that city of 13 million people, last I heard. Next, I needed to get from Moscow to Rostov-on-Don. Not the first time I've done that, for sure. But this time. . .

I decided to try something new for Moscow to Rostov-on-Don leg, 650-miles south. Instead of taking Aeroflot and forking over thousands of rubles for my last minute ticket, for my excess baggage, I took the train. It's a time versus money trade-off. I enjoyed having nearly 24 hours to sleep and read, not to mention saving buckets full of rubles. Aeroflot, my condolences. . . I had this whole wagon nearly to myself. I'm not quite understanding why, especially because they said the 3rd class wagons were packed. Oh well, as for this nice, quiet wagon, I'll take it!

Met this cheery four-some at a stop along the way. Asked the fellow in black where he found his t-shirt (click photo to enlarge). In Holland, he said, and his companions burst into laughter. They had been drinking their way south, I rather suspect.

On the road again. Somehow now my wagon is at the end of the train. Glad somebody else is keeping track of adding and subtracting train cars. Guess it's included in the ticket price.

Heading into southwestern Russia and the distant mounds are signs of coal mining.




Another train station, the shashlik lady. Reckon these two are kin? Chicken shashlik, sounded so good and looked so good that I bought it. It was way too expensive, of course, but the chicken was tasty, what there was of it. Still, they gave me this nice photo.

Then there was the potato lady who scrubbed, peeled and packaged this herself. Later, the guys squatting in the background decided to be friendly, shouting out Hello America, or some such.




Back on the train, the attendant lady ~ I like to call the attendants stewardesses and that makes them laugh ~ brought me this pod-sta-KAN-chik with hot tea. Reminiscent of the era of the Russian czars, nowadays, on long-distance trains, hot drinks are served in these. Podstakanchik means literally, under-the-glass-thingy. Works for me.


Welcome to home to Rostov-on-Don!

Friend Misha is so good about meeting me at the Rostov train station. Here he's bumping down the steps with my biggest bag. Why are we heading down this stairway when we're within two feet of an escalator?


Here's why. . .

Some things tend to be more decorative than functional, such as this escalator. Actually, seems I do recall a time or two when the escalator was working. So come on komrads, let's buck up and head on down. . .

Happy Birthday, dear Rostov. . .

As mentioned earlier, Rostov was in a celebratory mood when I arrived back. Had nothing to do with me, I eventually realized, but rather with the Day of the City, the 261st birthday of our wonderful Rostov-on-Don. I love the philosophy here, that if something's worth doing, it's worth doing on a large scale. There's exhibit #1.

A wider view of the Stella Bank building, set in Theater Square, Rostov-on-Don. Oh, is it ever wonderful to be back in my favorite adopted city. Thank you, dear blog readers for joining me in this journey spanning 9 time zones and thousands of miles.

Credit to whom it's due:

Each time I pass through Passport Kontrol in Moscow, am admitted into Russia and end up here in Rostov-on-Don, I'm mindful of the doors that opened for this to happen. This time, thanks goes to my new best friend, Desiree of FedEx. On the Tuesday before I was scheduled to depart on Wednesday, she delivered my passport and new visa into Russia. Without that visa, there's no even getting on the plane. So thank you FedEx and Desiree!

Seriously, I'm so grateful for the opportunity to live and serve here in Rostov-on-Don. Each time the door opens, I'm thankful for an answer to many prayers.

Eleven Years in Russia: Help Me Celebrate!

This morning I'm remembering January 29, 1999 and arriving in Moscow's international airport, Sheremetevo-2. And oh, what an adventure these years have been. Let me reminisce a moment about the travel dramas of Day One. And then there are prizes - yes, genuine Russian souvenirs to give away. So sit back and enjoy this vicariously.

Approaching Red Square. Photos: March 2006. (Click to enlarge)

Adventure One was getting through airport customs. Thing is, I had enough gear along to outfit a small army: five pieces of checked baggage, which included 3 duffel bags and 2 suitcases, and that was back when the limit was - what - 70 pounds a bag? And in those bags were weights, yes, honest-to-goodness weights. See, I wanted develop some muscles here in Russia and emailed a contact here in Rostov as to whether weights were available in Russia. She said No, if you want weights you'll need to bring your own. (So, so untrue!) But I considered that advise reliable so I did. Shall I admit this: In those bags was a pair of 12-pound free weights, a set of 8 pounders and a 5-pound set. That was just for upper body. And then there were leg weights too. So you get the picture: My luggage was heavy.

Red Square: St Basils Cathedral, left, and Kremlin tower and walls, right.

Oh! And I was carrying cash. Lots of cash: $6k in brand-new, 100-dollar bills. Nowadays, there's no need to do that and I do not (attention potential pickpockets), but back then most people traveled with serious cash. Besides that, I declared all that on my customs declaration - silly, silly me. Well, going through customs, the inspector folks there told me with straight faces about a mysterious new law that limits the total kilograms a person can bring into the country. I had brought too much in and the fine would be $2,000 as I recall. Now at that stage, I had already been up maybe 36 hours and I was simply numb. So I decided to act disinterested, a skill I highly recommend for such encounters, by the way, and wandered over to some seats while my Moscow contact, a dear brother named Israel, managed to get the fine down to $500. I saw the inspector girl put all that directly into her pocket. I expect it went into her savings for a new mink coat. Since I paid the money there rather than to an official cashier and since there was no receipt issued, I have reason to believe that those funds were for someones personal use. That was the first adventure of Day One.

Emerging then from Sheremetevo-2 airport with my wallet considerably lighter, Israel and I stashed my luggage in the long-term baggage storage at Sheremetevo-1, the regional airport I was scheduled to fly out of that evening. Baggage storage rooms tend to be located in the airport basement and that means dragging the baggage down stairs. (An elevator or escalator? Whahahaha. . .) So we stashed the bags and then went to see Red Square. Oh, and eat at the big Moscow McDonald's, which was the world's largest when it opened in 1990.

During our touristy trekking around the city, a blizzard blew into northwest Moscow and snow came fast and furious that afternoon and evening as we headed back to Sheremetevo-1 to catch my 9:40-ish flight to Rostov. After we had gotten the bags lugged up steps, hauled across the waiting area (Luggage carts? Oh, if only. . .) and checked in, the flight was changed because of the blizzard and rerouted to Domodedova, a regional airport located near southeast Moscow where there was less snow. So Israel and his crew got me and the luggage out into the parking lot in the fresh snow, onto the transfer bus and the two of us stood up the whole hour-plus across town. By then, I had been up way too many hours without sleep. But were so many tender mercies along the way. For one thing, Israel was so calm and kept saying, God is in control. God is in control. My flight eventually arrived here in Rostov around 5:00 am, as I recall. But that day, January 29th, 1999, was just the start of quite an adventure in missions.

And I must say that the good Lord has held me in the palms of his hands each step of the way. And I have learned a lot. A whooooole lot! For one thing, that a 12-pound weight makes an excellent doorstop.

And so dear blog readers, it's time to celebrate! I have three little prizes. These will go to three lucky people who comment here on this blog post between now and Sunday evening midnight Moscow time (GMT +3). These souvenirs were made in Tomsk, Siberia from white birch, a tree common in the vast northern forests. As you see, there's a square box and a round box and the little birch shoes. The vendor was telling me about the good fortune the shoes are said to bring: On January 7th, which is Orthodox Christmas day, if the mother or sister of a single girl drapes the shoes over the young lady's shoulder, it is guaranteed that she will marry sometime that year. (Don't think I'll be needing them, myself. . . )

So in your comment, please include your name or nickname and indicate which prize you want. Also please share briefly why you would like to visit Russia. I'll plan to have a drawing on Monday and notify winners here. And of course if there are three respondents, everybody gets a prize! Well, good luck my dear komrades. And thank you so much for helping me celebrate this special day!

A Pirana Tooth Necklace: Need One?

Dear Blog Reader, since it's just the two of us here, allow me to put you on the spot. Have you ever brought contraband or iffy stuff home from a trip overseas? Okay, maybe not you, but perhaps a friend (wink-wink)?

Recently I was hurrying through Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson Airport and in the international terminal were the Buyer Beware exhibits of travel treasures confiscated from passengers. And I thought of you, dear blog reader. And you and You over there. And I knew you would want to see all this. So I bit the bullet, ditched my beloved extra-large iced tea and fished out the camera. Because this contraband is so interesting. And because you have the right to know.


Does any of this look like stuff you might like to bring home? Does it look like stuff that you would try to bring home? (Double-click on photo to enlarge.)



Let's zoom on in and check out those boots. Hey, they're made from sea turtle, the label says. And I'm wondering about those eggs there. . . any ideas what those might be?



Oh lots of pretties! There are those shells and all that coral-y stuff. Might you have a place to display any of that?


Hey, how about some athletic shoes made from stingray leather. Well la-de-dah. Apparently there's a market for such. . .



A little further down the hallway more confiscated stuff awaits us. . .

Here's the wide view. . .Let's zoom on in for a close look at the poster on the right.


Okay, when in doubt, don't buy. The small print lists these reasons: Many souvenirs are made from endangered or threatened species. Many countries do not allow the export of wildlife or wildlife products without a permit. Many items may require a US permit. And right there, dangling by the sign is a necklace made from pirana teeth, which indicates they're quite serious about all this.



Moving right along, how about a snake-head fish? Might add a special touch to your bookshelf. Nyet?


And then there's the exotic butterfly collection. Butterflies are free, someone said. But probably not these ones. Oh, wouldn't you just hate to have to turn those over to the customs guys?


How about a blow gun with fancy feathers? Or the classic, pirana-tooth necklace? Perfect for a gala evening.


So here's a crocodile up closer, spiders, various insects. There are people who are into flora and fauna.

You know, this brings back memories of treasures I brought back from Australia in 1978 and didn't think twice about it. A fetal shark in formaldehyde, shark jaws, a kangaroo leather belt and pillow made from hide. Is there a shortage of kangaroos or sharks? Not likely. . .

How about you dear blog reader, have you any interesting experiences at the border? I've got stories for you, myself, but all that can wait. First I want to hear your stories!

Trippin' on Back to Russia

Last Thursday I caught the 10:40 a.m. flight out of Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport through Atlanta and then on to Moscow. Care to have a look behind the scenes?


(Click photos to enlarge.) Dear Gail, left, and her husband Robert (behind camera) dropped me off around 8:45. What a blessing to overnight at their place which is between my hosts' home in Garland on the east and DFW on the west of Dallas. Makes lots of sense to anybody familiar with early morning traffic on LBJ.



Got to admit that I missed lots of interesting shots on The Big Trip. The thing is, photography falls into 2nd place priority sometimes. Priority one was ~ just trying to keep it all together!


Here's my second-favorite scene at Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. The most touching scene is the dozens of military folks being deployed out of Atlanta. That tugs at my heartstrings in a personal sort of way ~ so much so that I haven't found it in me to ask for a photograph. But above is my second-favorite. Got a whole slew of photos of these Buyer Beware displays, complete with athletic shoes made from sting-ray skin, for instance. But that's a whole 'nother blog topic complete with lots of photos.



The Delta flight Atlanta to Moscow departs is scheduled to depart at 4:15 p.m. Sunset happens soon because we're flying into the night. Thanks to the child prodigy sitting next to me, we have this photo. Elijah was his name. And he noticed earlier when we left the east coast of the US. Above we're probably over Newfoundland. Atlanta to Moscow is 10 hours. On these long flights, I like to wear a 2nd watch, a runner's watch with chronograph to show how far we are into the flight. Somebody's gotta keep track of the time, right? ;)



Prior to landing in Moscow, we were advised about swine flu precautions. Before deplaning, each traveller would need to complete a document about our health and such - including how many piglets we had kissed recently (wink, wink) - and get our temperatures taken. I was dreading the idea of all of us sitting there with thermometers poking out of our mouths.

Not to worry though, airport officials made it oh-so-simple. The gentleman heading this way down the aisle is bearing a special temperature-sensing devise. He just pointed it at each person's face and instantly pronounced approved or nyet. Seemed as though we all passed.


Here he is in action, the thermometer fellow. He was actually quite pleasant and professional. Which helped since after 10 hours of being cooped up together, deplaning was sounding so good.



Then later after clearing passport control, getting through customs, changing some $ to rubles, going to the internet cafe and the Aeroflot office to make a decision about my connecting flight to Rostov, I happened upon the best scene: This is so very Russian.

Here's the baggage-wrapping station at Sheremetevo airport, Moscow's premier international airport. This wrap is thought to discourage people from tampering with baggage. It slows them down anyway.


Cutting a slit in for the handle. This guy knows what he's doing.


Out of the airport. En route to Vnykova airport, southeast part of town. Past the Ashan and IKEA complex.


Barricades on the outskirts of Moscow in the spot where Nazi forces were stopped in their tracks.




Traffic was slow. Fortunately my taxi driver know some alternate routes from Sheremetevo airport in northwest Moscow to Vnykova in the southeast. I left the driving to him. All for like $125. There has to be a better way. . .




Eventually on Aeroflot-Don headed south to Rostov-on-Don. Here's the view out the west window, courtesy of the folks sitting over across the aisle.



Oh, and here is a prize. I wasn't prepared for this view. Dug around fast and furious for the camera and handed it to young lady seated near the window. Next time I'll want to ask for that seat, myself. Beyond the river, the Russian Orthodox church with gold cupolas is visible toward the right.




Sailing right along we have Rostov's Theatre Square. Gorky Theatre is the large white building just left of center. This side of the theatre is Stella, the obelisk taller than Lady Liberty. Oh this sight does my heart good. How I love Rostov-on-Don and the opportunity to return here and serve.

Aloft with a Superstar Astronaut

I had cleared security at Moscow's Sheremetevo-2 International Airport week before last and was waiting to board Delta to Atlanta. Across the room was a young man I recognized. I had seen him up close and in person but he didn't seem to recognize me earlier when we'd nearly bumped into each other.

Across the waiting area, I kept staring. He was busy poking away on something digital and I was wracking my brain trying to place him and chatting with a young lady from Houston. She said, I'm seeing NASA labels on several people's bags. We must have people here with the space program. Suddenly things clicked and I bolted in his direction.

Excuse me, but aren't you the guy who paid his own way into space last year?

I certainly am, he smiled. Hello, I'm Richard Garriott.


I took your photograph. Now I know where I've seen you. You've been in my living room on my television. (Pictured above with his translator. Click image to enlarge.)

I had seen him and fellow astronauts during a press conference in Moscow last October. That crew with two Americans was particularly interesting and I took lots of photos. I remember being impressed with Richard's thoughtfulness and eloquence when he answered questions about his motivation for going into space.


Now, wasn't your dad an astronaut too?

Richard pulled out a postcard with a photo of the two of them.

Here, you can have this, he said.

Well I remember Googling your name, I babbled, and didn't you pay for this trip all yourself?

Yes, I paid for it by writing computer games.


He pulled out another prize. Here, you can have this too. And he kindly proceeded to explain the meaning of each item on the patch. Fellow astronauts are listed around the edges.



Well, what do you know, I have a photo of Michael Fincke, too, the shuttle flight engineer who hails from Pennsylvania.

Mr Fincke was impressive because he spoke good Russian.


By now it was time to board and I ran back to get my carry-on. Li Ming, the young lady from Houston who was watching my things devised a plan for getting a photograph. She would follow me through first class with her camera and we would try for a shot as we headed back toward steerage. ;)


Richard graciously agreed to a photograph and . . . here you have it. He had come through Moscow and then gone to the launch site in Kazakhstan to meet astronauts from Soyz 14 who had just returned from work on the space station. What a genuinely nice fellow.

How about you, fellow blog reader. Have you ever run into a celebrity on a flight? Gotten a photograph? Or have you ever dreamed of being a space tourist?