Russia, Day 30

 

Day Thirty 

We didn’t get much sleep.  Nord Hostel sent over a taxi at 3:30 AM.  It was Marsha’s brother.  He helped us carry our bags to the car.  We were saying goodbye to St. Petersburg.  As we drove through the city’s streets for the final time, I made sure to look at buildings.   It’s funny how most things look nice in the dark. 

 

We had a great time talking with Marsha’s brother on the way to the airport.  We were hoping to have no problems going through customs.  I was a bit worried that my Cuban cigars wouldn’t make it or perhaps they’d even cause us problems.

 

The St. Petersburg airport was nice – a bit small, but nice.  The problem was how disorganized it seemed.  Signs were not very clear.  We sat and waited for the clearance to go to our gate.  As we sat there, we played a game called Spot the American or Spot the Russian.  It was fun!  Eventually we boarded the plane.  Next destination:  Munich, Germany. 

We reached Munich.  We slept two or three hours at a gate.  Then, we got up to go through the final checkpoint.  We encountered our first problem.  I couldn’t get all the liquids I had in my bag through the checkpoint.  I had in St. Petersburg, but had forgotten that on international flights, liquids in carry-ons are banned.  So, I did the unthinkable.  Instead of letting the lady trash the liquids, I decided I had time to enter Germany.  Kade had to remain behind.  She stayed at the airport café.  I went through German customs and took a bus over to the Departures gate.  A guy from Lufthansa helped me wrap my vodka and other liquids.  Once they were carefully stored, I checked the bag and hoped nothing would break.  Afterwards, I exited Germany and made my way over to the Departure gate.  Kade was waiting for me!  

 

10 hours later – or there about – we arrived at the airport in Charlotte.  I had one more test.  Could I get the cigars through customs?  The honest person in me didn’t want to lie.  I didn’t have to.  I didn’t get asked an exact question about tobacco products.  Our bags were not even opened, even though many people’s bags had been selected for checking.  We then boarded our next flight to Asheville.  A couple of hours later, we were back home.  Then, our last blow:  Our bags had not even made it from Charlotte.  We filled out forms and we told that we’d hear from someone in a day or two.  Sure enough, our bags were delivered.  Everything was intact.  We were happy.  Our trip was over.  We had enjoyed it.

 

What I am doing is using my journal entries, exactly as they we were written.