Chile chapter finished. Now I have to do a heck of an editing job before we hit the train to Irkutsk because I'm five pages over the limit, never mind actually cutting the text.
Maps finished, photographed so that I can compare the first edit to the amendments the cartographers email me while I'm on the road and sent to James.
Have sent my Lithuania contract to my Lonely Planet editor.
The day before departure is a frenzy of packing, finishing the Peru chapter, and removing all traces of my existence from my room so that Qing can move in in my absense. Pre-trip blues. I don't want to leave; I want just a few days to myself, at home, with no work to do, so that I can just play computer games and read a good book.
Pre-trip injury in the form of a gash in my leg from where I collided with another cyclist at a blind corner; I came off worse than she did. There was blood.
Get less than two hours' sleep before departure day because there's too much to do. This is the first time I've checked in using a Russian passport in 14 years.
There's a fat chap in the departure lounge talking to a familiar-looking man in a grey suit; why, I do believe the besuited man is the Russian consul.
A three-hour sleep later, I'm whisked through the immigration point at Moscow's Domodedovo. I'm no longer Her Majesty's subject.
Friday 30 July 2010
Wednesday 28 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: days 5 & 4. Passport lost and found.
Final visit to the Russian consulate for a while, I hope. They're satisfied with the translation of the deed poll and charge me £20 per page for checking the accuracy. The consul then talks to me about changing my surname in my Russian passport - either do it in Russia, or it'll take up to 9 months if done through the consulate. He waves my deed poll and says: "It's not really a legal document to us, nor to the British government, for that matter." And that's after I'd spent around £200 legalising it, translating it and going to and from London.
Inside I'm screaming, trust me.
I want to tell him that it bloody well is a legal document in this country, that the passport office certainly thought so when they issued my new passport, but I just don't have the energy. His attitude makes me wonder whether it all makes any difference at all to whether I'll encounter trouble at the border.
Coffee with Georgia, lively fellow Rough Guides person who'll be covering the northern half of Peru. I answer questions and share travel tips.
Second tick-borne encephalitis jab. If you pay attention to the doomsday posters on the wall, you'd think that pretty much anyone in Europe's in immediate danger of dying from it.
Everybody knows that the plague is coming
Everybody knows that it's moving fast...
Leonard Cohen, "Everybody Knows"
Try to collect Steve's passport from the Chinese visa section, only to encounter unexpected trouble. Text Steve: "They've lost your passport. Am waiting while they look for it." Steve has kittens. It turns out that it was erroneously given to some guy who wandered off with it without checking that he was given the right passport. Luckily, he returned it straight away, or it would've been the end of the (train) line for Steve.
Most hostels booked. Am debating whether to look up my mother's third cousin's daughter when in Novosibirsk.
Bryn's sent me the text; it seems to be all in order.
Working steadily on the Chile chapter. It's going to be a tough last two days.
Inside I'm screaming, trust me.
I want to tell him that it bloody well is a legal document in this country, that the passport office certainly thought so when they issued my new passport, but I just don't have the energy. His attitude makes me wonder whether it all makes any difference at all to whether I'll encounter trouble at the border.
Coffee with Georgia, lively fellow Rough Guides person who'll be covering the northern half of Peru. I answer questions and share travel tips.
Second tick-borne encephalitis jab. If you pay attention to the doomsday posters on the wall, you'd think that pretty much anyone in Europe's in immediate danger of dying from it.
Everybody knows that the plague is coming
Everybody knows that it's moving fast...
Leonard Cohen, "Everybody Knows"
Try to collect Steve's passport from the Chinese visa section, only to encounter unexpected trouble. Text Steve: "They've lost your passport. Am waiting while they look for it." Steve has kittens. It turns out that it was erroneously given to some guy who wandered off with it without checking that he was given the right passport. Luckily, he returned it straight away, or it would've been the end of the (train) line for Steve.
Most hostels booked. Am debating whether to look up my mother's third cousin's daughter when in Novosibirsk.
Bryn's sent me the text; it seems to be all in order.
Working steadily on the Chile chapter. It's going to be a tough last two days.
Tuesday 27 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: days 9 - 6.
Bryn finally gets back to me. We’re trying to organise it so that I get a letter of introduction from Trailblazer, as well as business cards. Have approved the design of the cards, have translated the letter into Russian with assistance from my mother (I lack certain turns of phrase, and some of my Russian turns out to be a direct translation from English); now waiting for the delivery from Bryn.
Friday is hectic. I haven’t had word from the translation company to say that my deed poll is ready, but go to the office anyway; I need to have the translation in time for my appointment at the Russian consulate. It’s pretty close; get it with 10 minutes to spare before my train’s departure. Make it to the consulate with a minute to spare after sprinting from the Tube, only to be told that a) they don’t want the translation agency’s stamps on the paper, just the translation itself and b) that the translator’s made some sloppy mistakes (she has) and that the whole thing needs to be redone. If I’d known that, I could’ve translated the damn thing myself! Arrange to return on Monday.
Mike and Monica have come down from Peru for Cristian and Sophie’s wedding. Stay at Mike’s parents’ and work all evening. I’ve thought about not coming to the wedding, but didn’t want to let Cristian down at the last minute.
Work all Saturday morning until we have to drive down to Portsmouth for the ceremony. The evening’s gone; the reception at Sophie’s father’s farm means hours and hours of drunken revelry. The more pink champagne I have, the less likely the chance of doing any work.
Making progress on the train this morning, though. I’m not quite on target, but I’m no longer at that horrible stage where I can’t bear to think about how much work I have to do, because if I do, I freeze because of the stress, and can’t focus at all. Peru chapter almost finished, and I can fine-tune it on my one day in Moscow.
Alarming message from Steve last night; he's cheerfully hyseterical. He’s flying to Moscow with German Wings (which I’m not convinced is even a real airline) and is landing at some obscure airport that is neither Sheremetyevo nor Domodedovo. He's convinced that he won't register his visa on time and will become a fugitive from the law. I have no sympathy for him at all. He can make his own merry way to the hostel. My mother informs me that it has to be Vnukovo, formerly for internal flights only. I think I'll put Steve to work, writing about airport facilities for the guide.
Ulan Bator hostel booked. We’re looking into the ‘staying with nomads’ options, and three days/two nights is such a short time. I want to get a proper idea of nomad life without doing anything too touristy and gimmicky, whereas Steve wants to cram in all the camel rides he can get.
Staying at my sister’s. Alarmed at how expensive Russia accommodation seems to be. Or maybe that’s because I’ve already somehow managed to spend a substantial chunk of my trans-Siberian advance. Trouble.
Have printed out the new, corrected deed poll translation for the morning visit to the embassy.
Friday is hectic. I haven’t had word from the translation company to say that my deed poll is ready, but go to the office anyway; I need to have the translation in time for my appointment at the Russian consulate. It’s pretty close; get it with 10 minutes to spare before my train’s departure. Make it to the consulate with a minute to spare after sprinting from the Tube, only to be told that a) they don’t want the translation agency’s stamps on the paper, just the translation itself and b) that the translator’s made some sloppy mistakes (she has) and that the whole thing needs to be redone. If I’d known that, I could’ve translated the damn thing myself! Arrange to return on Monday.
Mike and Monica have come down from Peru for Cristian and Sophie’s wedding. Stay at Mike’s parents’ and work all evening. I’ve thought about not coming to the wedding, but didn’t want to let Cristian down at the last minute.
Work all Saturday morning until we have to drive down to Portsmouth for the ceremony. The evening’s gone; the reception at Sophie’s father’s farm means hours and hours of drunken revelry. The more pink champagne I have, the less likely the chance of doing any work.
Making progress on the train this morning, though. I’m not quite on target, but I’m no longer at that horrible stage where I can’t bear to think about how much work I have to do, because if I do, I freeze because of the stress, and can’t focus at all. Peru chapter almost finished, and I can fine-tune it on my one day in Moscow.
Alarming message from Steve last night; he's cheerfully hyseterical. He’s flying to Moscow with German Wings (which I’m not convinced is even a real airline) and is landing at some obscure airport that is neither Sheremetyevo nor Domodedovo. He's convinced that he won't register his visa on time and will become a fugitive from the law. I have no sympathy for him at all. He can make his own merry way to the hostel. My mother informs me that it has to be Vnukovo, formerly for internal flights only. I think I'll put Steve to work, writing about airport facilities for the guide.
Ulan Bator hostel booked. We’re looking into the ‘staying with nomads’ options, and three days/two nights is such a short time. I want to get a proper idea of nomad life without doing anything too touristy and gimmicky, whereas Steve wants to cram in all the camel rides he can get.
Staying at my sister’s. Alarmed at how expensive Russia accommodation seems to be. Or maybe that’s because I’ve already somehow managed to spend a substantial chunk of my trans-Siberian advance. Trouble.
Have printed out the new, corrected deed poll translation for the morning visit to the embassy.
Thursday 22 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: days 11 & 10. Mentoring session and another obstacle.
Yesterday I had my video call mentoring session with Brandon, my Lonely Planet mentor (every new writer is assigned a senior writer). He sat in a cafe in Turkey and talked to me in detail about how the system works. How to get more gigs: do a great job on your first one, since you're 'on probation'; build positive relationships with your editors and fellow writers - that way you'll know what's available to pitch for and if editors trust you and like you, you'll get more work. Don't be a 'pitching whore' - someone perpetually available who pitches for everything (after all, there must be a reason as to why you're perpetually available, and editors prefer writers who are clearly busy and sought-after). So one hand, I have to try and get as many gigs as possible to establish myself, but without seeming too desperate for work. Catch 22.
It's not what you know, it's who you know. Editors give you first pick if you've already worked on a guide.
He explains how it's possible to go from one gig to another in different parts of the world: "You don't have to be an expert on a destination. But you do have to be an expert on finding the expert." That makes sense, but goes against the advice given to me by a senior Rough Guide author, who is indeed an expert on two distinct regions.
Then follows the technical information - where to find the Author Manual, how to upload diffent fonts used for specific guidebooks from the Lonely Planet FTP site (because anything else will bugger up the text you're working on), how to approach editors and when to approach them.
Every year we have to fill out an 'Author At A Glance' Excel document, describing our travel experience. Brandon disabuses me of the illusion that it's an important document. "The editors' cubicles are all next to each other. If they want to know something about you, they just turn around and ask an editor who knows you."
The Skype connection is dreadful and we keep getting cut off. I appreciate Brandon's persevering. Since he's doing the Latvia chapter, we agree to meet in Riga when I go and do Lithuania.
Get a horrible shock when I check my bank balance. Somehow I've managed to spend almost £2000 in three weeks. All those visas, trips to London, essential purchases (Gore-Tex jacket, rucksack, Microsoft Office 2010), flight...it all adds up. Really need to sublet my room, otherwise am financially buggered.
Plod on with the finicky bits of the Peru chapter. Have a single house viewing by a Cambridge grad student. He seems to be interested in the room, and confirms his interest in the evening. Whew.
Today I get onto the urgent task of having my legalised deed poll document translated before Friday, when am due to go to London. Call several companies for quotes. Luckily I have the presence of mind to go on the Russian consulate website to discover that I can't just turn up with my deed poll and expect to have it ratified; I need to make an official appointment with the notary, and, as it happens, there's only one available slot this Friday (and none next week!), so I rush to a translation office and implore them to do my document in 46 hours, rather than 48, otherwise I'm in serious trouble.
Lunch with Sonia, my manga artist friend. Since we're both in the creative, freelance business, bounce a few ideas for new guidebooks off her and she gives constructive advice. To sell a good idea to big publishing company or to self-publish? Or even to sign a non-disclosure agreement and ask to work in partnership in exchange for financial backing and recognition? I've got a couple of ideas to pitch to Trailblazer, but I really need to hear back from Bryn first.
Feel sapped of creative energy, so focus on the mundane 'Directory' sections for each Peruvian city - addresses of airline companies, pharmacies, post offices, police stations, etc. It's slow, methodical work. Feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment.
It's not what you know, it's who you know. Editors give you first pick if you've already worked on a guide.
He explains how it's possible to go from one gig to another in different parts of the world: "You don't have to be an expert on a destination. But you do have to be an expert on finding the expert." That makes sense, but goes against the advice given to me by a senior Rough Guide author, who is indeed an expert on two distinct regions.
Then follows the technical information - where to find the Author Manual, how to upload diffent fonts used for specific guidebooks from the Lonely Planet FTP site (because anything else will bugger up the text you're working on), how to approach editors and when to approach them.
Every year we have to fill out an 'Author At A Glance' Excel document, describing our travel experience. Brandon disabuses me of the illusion that it's an important document. "The editors' cubicles are all next to each other. If they want to know something about you, they just turn around and ask an editor who knows you."
The Skype connection is dreadful and we keep getting cut off. I appreciate Brandon's persevering. Since he's doing the Latvia chapter, we agree to meet in Riga when I go and do Lithuania.
Get a horrible shock when I check my bank balance. Somehow I've managed to spend almost £2000 in three weeks. All those visas, trips to London, essential purchases (Gore-Tex jacket, rucksack, Microsoft Office 2010), flight...it all adds up. Really need to sublet my room, otherwise am financially buggered.
Plod on with the finicky bits of the Peru chapter. Have a single house viewing by a Cambridge grad student. He seems to be interested in the room, and confirms his interest in the evening. Whew.
Today I get onto the urgent task of having my legalised deed poll document translated before Friday, when am due to go to London. Call several companies for quotes. Luckily I have the presence of mind to go on the Russian consulate website to discover that I can't just turn up with my deed poll and expect to have it ratified; I need to make an official appointment with the notary, and, as it happens, there's only one available slot this Friday (and none next week!), so I rush to a translation office and implore them to do my document in 46 hours, rather than 48, otherwise I'm in serious trouble.
Lunch with Sonia, my manga artist friend. Since we're both in the creative, freelance business, bounce a few ideas for new guidebooks off her and she gives constructive advice. To sell a good idea to big publishing company or to self-publish? Or even to sign a non-disclosure agreement and ask to work in partnership in exchange for financial backing and recognition? I've got a couple of ideas to pitch to Trailblazer, but I really need to hear back from Bryn first.
Feel sapped of creative energy, so focus on the mundane 'Directory' sections for each Peruvian city - addresses of airline companies, pharmacies, post offices, police stations, etc. It's slow, methodical work. Feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment.
Tuesday 20 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Days 14-12. Dress shopping and Milton Keynes.
Much of my Saturday is taken up by helping my friend Sara (who is getting married in February) and her bridesmaid Dawn sort out their dresses. After all, my sartorial eloquence makes my advice invaluable. Sara the power-tripping bride gets me to try various dresses 'for a laugh'. The experience is not terribly traumatic, but it is time-consuming. Helping people shop for clothes is not unlike being in a museum: you may not have walked far, but your legs really ache by the end of it.
Work on the Peru chapter between the shopping and group dinner with friends, then burn the 2am candle.
Spend the whole of Sunday behind my desk, but the Peru chapter is finally shaping up. The only problem is that I do the easy stuff first - re-writing or editing the text on attractions, but leaving the time-consuming and finicky listings until the end, which is what's happening now. At the same time, I need to decide on all the listings in order to complete the maps. At this rate, it may all be as I'd feared: I will end up taking the text to Russia and finishing editing on the plane or even in Moscow.
Put up an ad to let my room while I'm away. Lonely Planet pay sufficiently for me not to have to do this, but the other guides do not.
Spend almost my entire Monday at Milton Keynes, trying to get my deep poll document legalised for the Russian consulate. I get there early, having caught the 7am bus, but it takes me forever to walk up from the bus station to the legalisation office along Silbury Boulevard, which turns out to be a lot longer than expected. Milton Keynes has got to be the armpit of Britain; I've never come across an uglier, less pedestrian-friendly place in my life!
First the office sends me to a nearby solicitor's, so that he may sign the deed poll to confirm that it's genuine. Then I wait. And wait. And wait. As Sod's Law will have it, this is the first time in ages that their network's gone down, so the promised 90-minute turnaround turns into a 6-hour turnaround. I manage to use the time productively, tweaking the Nazca and Paracas part of the Peru chapter and reading Robert Harris's "Lustrum", but it's not the same as being in my 'office'.
Get through to the Trailblazer office; Bryn's away until Thursday, but he'll get back to me as soon as possible, I'm promised. Just as well really; I need that text and those maps before I go. Must print out all the Lonely Planet Lithuania stuff as well before departure.
Have to abandon my plans to visit my friend Kala in Coventry, meet her new children and gorge myself on her Jamaica cooking. At coming round to the realisation that I'm trying to do too much.
Work on the Peru chapter between the shopping and group dinner with friends, then burn the 2am candle.
Spend the whole of Sunday behind my desk, but the Peru chapter is finally shaping up. The only problem is that I do the easy stuff first - re-writing or editing the text on attractions, but leaving the time-consuming and finicky listings until the end, which is what's happening now. At the same time, I need to decide on all the listings in order to complete the maps. At this rate, it may all be as I'd feared: I will end up taking the text to Russia and finishing editing on the plane or even in Moscow.
Put up an ad to let my room while I'm away. Lonely Planet pay sufficiently for me not to have to do this, but the other guides do not.
Spend almost my entire Monday at Milton Keynes, trying to get my deep poll document legalised for the Russian consulate. I get there early, having caught the 7am bus, but it takes me forever to walk up from the bus station to the legalisation office along Silbury Boulevard, which turns out to be a lot longer than expected. Milton Keynes has got to be the armpit of Britain; I've never come across an uglier, less pedestrian-friendly place in my life!
First the office sends me to a nearby solicitor's, so that he may sign the deed poll to confirm that it's genuine. Then I wait. And wait. And wait. As Sod's Law will have it, this is the first time in ages that their network's gone down, so the promised 90-minute turnaround turns into a 6-hour turnaround. I manage to use the time productively, tweaking the Nazca and Paracas part of the Peru chapter and reading Robert Harris's "Lustrum", but it's not the same as being in my 'office'.
Get through to the Trailblazer office; Bryn's away until Thursday, but he'll get back to me as soon as possible, I'm promised. Just as well really; I need that text and those maps before I go. Must print out all the Lonely Planet Lithuania stuff as well before departure.
Have to abandon my plans to visit my friend Kala in Coventry, meet her new children and gorge myself on her Jamaica cooking. At coming round to the realisation that I'm trying to do too much.
Friday 16 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: days 16 and 15.
Go pick up my passport from the Chinese visa centre. Their £30 visa charge is deceptively cheap; turns out they charge just as much for 'visa processing'. Daylight robbery. Oh well, at least I have all my visas now, unlike Steve, who's hated by the Chinese.
Take Christine around. She's getting very irritable and monosyllabic. I recognise it as travel fatigue; the difference is that I'd only be getting to that point after months on the road, rather than one week.
We meet with Subo, who will know next week what shape his life will take over the next two years, depending on the outcome of his interview at the Japanese embassy. This is followed by dinner at my favourite Georgian restaurant with my friend Paul, a fellow intern in Jamaica in 2006, and his girlfriend Kelly.
The dinner get more raucous with each subsequent bottle of wine, as my friends quote more and more scandalous anecdotes from my past life. Paul gives me and Steve tips on Beijing and how to get around. I produce a 2008 copy of the Moscow Times, featuring Solzhenitsyn's death on the front; Paul's a big admirer and I've been meaning to hand it over. My work plans go out of the window as I go for another drink with Paul and Kelly and resign myself to arriving home after midnight, worse for wear.
Make up for it today by sitting at my desk pretty much all day and working on the Peru chapter. I can't seem to focus on any single bit today, so I have to work with my limited attention span and jump from one part of the chapter to another. My goal is to submit all the maps on Monday.
Still no word at all from Trailblazer. This is rather worrying. Will give Bryn another three or four days and then I'll have to phone him. It'd be rather difficult to update the guide if I don't have the text that I'm supposed to be working on.
Take Christine around. She's getting very irritable and monosyllabic. I recognise it as travel fatigue; the difference is that I'd only be getting to that point after months on the road, rather than one week.
We meet with Subo, who will know next week what shape his life will take over the next two years, depending on the outcome of his interview at the Japanese embassy. This is followed by dinner at my favourite Georgian restaurant with my friend Paul, a fellow intern in Jamaica in 2006, and his girlfriend Kelly.
The dinner get more raucous with each subsequent bottle of wine, as my friends quote more and more scandalous anecdotes from my past life. Paul gives me and Steve tips on Beijing and how to get around. I produce a 2008 copy of the Moscow Times, featuring Solzhenitsyn's death on the front; Paul's a big admirer and I've been meaning to hand it over. My work plans go out of the window as I go for another drink with Paul and Kelly and resign myself to arriving home after midnight, worse for wear.
Make up for it today by sitting at my desk pretty much all day and working on the Peru chapter. I can't seem to focus on any single bit today, so I have to work with my limited attention span and jump from one part of the chapter to another. My goal is to submit all the maps on Monday.
Still no word at all from Trailblazer. This is rather worrying. Will give Bryn another three or four days and then I'll have to phone him. It'd be rather difficult to update the guide if I don't have the text that I'm supposed to be working on.
Thursday 15 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 17. A little family history.
My new travelling companion arrives. Am very pleased with my 80-litre Lowe Alpine Sagarmatha; it seems sturdy and has lots of pockets, which is essential for someone who carries as much crap on the road as I do.
Take Christine on a tour of Trinity college (being the offspring of a professor has its advantages when the place is technically closed to visitors), and then on a punting tour. Unsucessful search for a Tamron multi-purpose lens for my Canon Rebel; the used camera shop stocks a beautiful used Canon lens (17-85mm), which'd be perfect, but it's still £300.
Manage to get a little Peru mapwork done before a friend turns up for tea and before I head out to see an old friend. Express my desire to delve deeper into my family's history while in Russia, tracing my grandfather's case, who was denounced as an 'enemy of the people' and imprisoned - an episode which almost spelled the end of my family - and am given a couple of vital leads to follow up. I shall attempt to track down the Kings College expert on that period of Russian history and try to at least find out which archive the case could be in.
My Ulan Bator-Beijing ticket will be waiting for me at some office in Ulan Bator.
Email from the commissioning editor for the Rough Guide Budget Guide to Central America: I was a stand-by, but now he's got authors covering every chapter. Better luck next time. Still need to arrange my mentoring session with a senior Lonely Planet writer via Skype.
Take Christine on a tour of Trinity college (being the offspring of a professor has its advantages when the place is technically closed to visitors), and then on a punting tour. Unsucessful search for a Tamron multi-purpose lens for my Canon Rebel; the used camera shop stocks a beautiful used Canon lens (17-85mm), which'd be perfect, but it's still £300.
Manage to get a little Peru mapwork done before a friend turns up for tea and before I head out to see an old friend. Express my desire to delve deeper into my family's history while in Russia, tracing my grandfather's case, who was denounced as an 'enemy of the people' and imprisoned - an episode which almost spelled the end of my family - and am given a couple of vital leads to follow up. I shall attempt to track down the Kings College expert on that period of Russian history and try to at least find out which archive the case could be in.
My Ulan Bator-Beijing ticket will be waiting for me at some office in Ulan Bator.
Email from the commissioning editor for the Rough Guide Budget Guide to Central America: I was a stand-by, but now he's got authors covering every chapter. Better luck next time. Still need to arrange my mentoring session with a senior Lonely Planet writer via Skype.
Wednesday 14 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 18. Train tickets booked.
A productive morning's work. Manage to complete most of the Chile chapter maps before my friend Christine from South Carolina shows up. Then I discover that I missed the delivery of my new rucksack because I'm clearly deaf and can't hear the doorbell when upstairs in my room/office.
Take Christine into town, since she hasn't been here for nearly a decade. Glad that I'd managed to get most of my work done earlier, because another friend arrives for dinner and I have to fulfil my obligations as a host. I think I must be cracking up due to being cooped up in my room/office and the stresses of the past two weeks; I see sexual innuendo in everything and am bouncing off the walls. My behaviour towards Steve's ex-wife can be misconstrued as making a pass at her. She is probably still traumatised.
Steve informs me that the Ulan-Ude to Ulan Bator leg is now also booked. When I complain about paying an extra £12 to have the tickets sent to our home, as opposed to picking them up from the relevant office in Moscow, he laughs at my naive assumption that the ticket office will be somewhere near the train station. I'm grudgingly persuaded that £12 may be a small price to pay to avoid the hassle of looking for said office in some random part of Moscow on the one full day we'll have in the capital.
My Chile maps are all finished! I've had to redo the one of the Lake District which I swear I'd already updated last year, but clearly they didn't save that copy. Now to complete the Peru maps, and I can pack the whole lot off to my editor.
Take Christine into town, since she hasn't been here for nearly a decade. Glad that I'd managed to get most of my work done earlier, because another friend arrives for dinner and I have to fulfil my obligations as a host. I think I must be cracking up due to being cooped up in my room/office and the stresses of the past two weeks; I see sexual innuendo in everything and am bouncing off the walls. My behaviour towards Steve's ex-wife can be misconstrued as making a pass at her. She is probably still traumatised.
Steve informs me that the Ulan-Ude to Ulan Bator leg is now also booked. When I complain about paying an extra £12 to have the tickets sent to our home, as opposed to picking them up from the relevant office in Moscow, he laughs at my naive assumption that the ticket office will be somewhere near the train station. I'm grudgingly persuaded that £12 may be a small price to pay to avoid the hassle of looking for said office in some random part of Moscow on the one full day we'll have in the capital.
My Chile maps are all finished! I've had to redo the one of the Lake District which I swear I'd already updated last year, but clearly they didn't save that copy. Now to complete the Peru maps, and I can pack the whole lot off to my editor.
Tuesday 13 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 19. Another spanner in the works.
Am on a tight schedule this morning, but things mostly go according to plan. Make it from my sister's place to the Russian consulate before it even opens. Of course, the passport section does not open on time, but the woman who dishes out the passports is nice, whereas the one who accepts passport-related paperwork is a complete harpy. No nasty surprises: everything seems to be in order and they even got my former surname right.
Get my British passport back from the Mongolian embassy. The procedure takes seconds, since I'm the only person there. I then sprint for the Kensington High St tube and make it to Chancery Lane in time for my Chinese visa application appointment. Events take an unexpected turn when I submit Steve's paperwork alongside mine; the girl behind the counter informs me that he can't apply for a visa yet, since he's a journalist, and for some absurd reason they don't allow members of the media to apply more than a month before the date they wish to enter China. Explaining that he works for a humble local paper and is on holiday makes absolutely no difference. She tells me that I may bring his paperwork back when I collect my passport on Thursday.
Call Steve: "There's a spanner in the works and you're the spanner." Steve has to rearrange his time off work. I'm amused because it's not my paperwork that's causing trouble for a change.
Get my first tick-borne encephalitis jab at the Nomad clinic at Russel Square. The nurse tries to talk me into getting a polio booster, but when I glance at her computer screen, it only talks of a polio outbreak in Tajikistan, so I figure that unless I run into some sick Tajiks, I should be okay.
Back in Cambridge, I try to book the Ulan-Ude-Ulan Bator train and the Ulan Bator-Beijing train directly with Russian rail, but they're having none of it. Am told to go and buy the tickets from the nearest ticket office. And no, their website does not allow you to book tickets online. First World country, my fat fanny, as the Americans would say.
Finally try to book the tickets with Steve via Real Russia, the middleman with the 25% markup. Humbug. We'll know shortly whether there's any availability of whether we'll be stuck in Ulan-Ude forever. I absolutely must book accommodation tomorrow.
Look into Leonard Cohen tickets at the Kremlin. Can't believe that some Russians pay 30,000 roubles ($1000) for the first few rows. In fact, all the tickets are pricier than they would be here. Originally, I put the concert down as a 'maybe', but who am I kidding? The words 'afford' and 'can't' are simply not in my vocabulary and this may well be Cohen's last tour, so I will sell whatever's left of my soul to be at the Kremlin Palace on October 7th.
Am at that stage in my work where I'm beginning to really loathe the Chile chapter. Progress is slow and all the maps have to be submitted in the next few days. It's not the end of the world if the editing is not finished before the end of the year, since the text won't be going to the printers before the end of January, but my workload, post-Russia, will be tremendous, so it's in my interests to get as much done now as possible.
Get my British passport back from the Mongolian embassy. The procedure takes seconds, since I'm the only person there. I then sprint for the Kensington High St tube and make it to Chancery Lane in time for my Chinese visa application appointment. Events take an unexpected turn when I submit Steve's paperwork alongside mine; the girl behind the counter informs me that he can't apply for a visa yet, since he's a journalist, and for some absurd reason they don't allow members of the media to apply more than a month before the date they wish to enter China. Explaining that he works for a humble local paper and is on holiday makes absolutely no difference. She tells me that I may bring his paperwork back when I collect my passport on Thursday.
Call Steve: "There's a spanner in the works and you're the spanner." Steve has to rearrange his time off work. I'm amused because it's not my paperwork that's causing trouble for a change.
Get my first tick-borne encephalitis jab at the Nomad clinic at Russel Square. The nurse tries to talk me into getting a polio booster, but when I glance at her computer screen, it only talks of a polio outbreak in Tajikistan, so I figure that unless I run into some sick Tajiks, I should be okay.
Back in Cambridge, I try to book the Ulan-Ude-Ulan Bator train and the Ulan Bator-Beijing train directly with Russian rail, but they're having none of it. Am told to go and buy the tickets from the nearest ticket office. And no, their website does not allow you to book tickets online. First World country, my fat fanny, as the Americans would say.
Finally try to book the tickets with Steve via Real Russia, the middleman with the 25% markup. Humbug. We'll know shortly whether there's any availability of whether we'll be stuck in Ulan-Ude forever. I absolutely must book accommodation tomorrow.
Look into Leonard Cohen tickets at the Kremlin. Can't believe that some Russians pay 30,000 roubles ($1000) for the first few rows. In fact, all the tickets are pricier than they would be here. Originally, I put the concert down as a 'maybe', but who am I kidding? The words 'afford' and 'can't' are simply not in my vocabulary and this may well be Cohen's last tour, so I will sell whatever's left of my soul to be at the Kremlin Palace on October 7th.
Am at that stage in my work where I'm beginning to really loathe the Chile chapter. Progress is slow and all the maps have to be submitted in the next few days. It's not the end of the world if the editing is not finished before the end of the year, since the text won't be going to the printers before the end of January, but my workload, post-Russia, will be tremendous, so it's in my interests to get as much done now as possible.
Monday 12 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 20. Back to London.
Up bright and early and working on the Patagonia section of the Chile chapter. Since my friend now feels perpetually tired and goes to bed early, it means that I get plenty of rest too. Accommodation listings are tricky; there are only so many ways you can describe a youth hostel, and I try hard not to be repetitive. It’s more fun with food listings; I’ve managed to work references to sex into restaurant reviews elsewhere in the chapter; I hope that Rough Guides keep them in.
Email from a South Carolina friend who’s visiting us for the first time in ten years; we need to work out when she can come down to Cambridge during the coming week. On Thursday, Steve and I have to collect our passports from the Chinese embassy, and I’m half-thinking of spending the evening in Coventry, visiting another Warwick friend of mine, before legalising my deed poll in Milton Keynes on Friday, and the staying with another friend in London, but that might be somewhat ambitious…
Work on the train on the way back to Paddington. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a trip without my laptop. There’s always too much to do.
The northern Patagonia section is shaping up nicely. I hope I get half of the Chile guide again next year; last year, I was rushed because I didn’t want to stay away for too long because a friend of mine was dying, so it’d be good to explore the south of Chile properly again.
The Ulan-Ude – Ulan Bator and the Ulan Bator – Beijing legs need to be booked in the next day or two, and then I’ll breathe easier. Not sure which name I should book the former in – my Russian or my English. Probably the Russian, since they’re sure to check my ticket, but I’ll be entering my final destination under my English name, so what to do???
Stay with my sister and her partner because I’ve got a list of things to do in central London in the morning. My sister is trying to order her ticket with Siberia Air (or something like that) from Ulan-Ude to Moscow and her card keeps getting rejected. Russia may think it's a First World country, but its online booking systems are bloody prehistoric.
Manage to get through to my lawyer friend David on the phone, which I’m very happy about. He’s one of the people I respect the most; I haven’t spoken to him for a year and haven’t seen him since 2005, when I assisted him with a federal death case in Ukraine. Discuss Leonard Cohen (we’re both fans), my name change and my forthcoming Russia trip. He thinks it’s funny that Russia doesn’t recognise my British citizenship. He asks me if it's okay to pass on my details to an attorney in Virginia who's handling some Russia-related case. I agree; I think it's the same one that my mitigation specialist friend Scharlette mentioned to me earlier this year, but I didn't want to put myself forward before I actually got my Russian passport.
Work late into the night thanks to a sudden burst of energy; still, progress is too slow for my satisfaction.
Email from a South Carolina friend who’s visiting us for the first time in ten years; we need to work out when she can come down to Cambridge during the coming week. On Thursday, Steve and I have to collect our passports from the Chinese embassy, and I’m half-thinking of spending the evening in Coventry, visiting another Warwick friend of mine, before legalising my deed poll in Milton Keynes on Friday, and the staying with another friend in London, but that might be somewhat ambitious…
Work on the train on the way back to Paddington. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a trip without my laptop. There’s always too much to do.
The northern Patagonia section is shaping up nicely. I hope I get half of the Chile guide again next year; last year, I was rushed because I didn’t want to stay away for too long because a friend of mine was dying, so it’d be good to explore the south of Chile properly again.
The Ulan-Ude – Ulan Bator and the Ulan Bator – Beijing legs need to be booked in the next day or two, and then I’ll breathe easier. Not sure which name I should book the former in – my Russian or my English. Probably the Russian, since they’re sure to check my ticket, but I’ll be entering my final destination under my English name, so what to do???
Stay with my sister and her partner because I’ve got a list of things to do in central London in the morning. My sister is trying to order her ticket with Siberia Air (or something like that) from Ulan-Ude to Moscow and her card keeps getting rejected. Russia may think it's a First World country, but its online booking systems are bloody prehistoric.
Manage to get through to my lawyer friend David on the phone, which I’m very happy about. He’s one of the people I respect the most; I haven’t spoken to him for a year and haven’t seen him since 2005, when I assisted him with a federal death case in Ukraine. Discuss Leonard Cohen (we’re both fans), my name change and my forthcoming Russia trip. He thinks it’s funny that Russia doesn’t recognise my British citizenship. He asks me if it's okay to pass on my details to an attorney in Virginia who's handling some Russia-related case. I agree; I think it's the same one that my mitigation specialist friend Scharlette mentioned to me earlier this year, but I didn't want to put myself forward before I actually got my Russian passport.
Work late into the night thanks to a sudden burst of energy; still, progress is too slow for my satisfaction.
Sunday 11 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 21. Goodnight Saigon.
Since there’s an open day at Dartington Hall, my friend has to go into work for several hours, so I plant myself in her office along with my laptop amidst my disarray of paperwork and work on the finicky parts of the Chile chapter – accommodation listings and tour companies. This is one of the most time-consuming tasks, since I have to make sure that each section is done in a relevant font, that all the phone numbers and website addresses are correct. It means spending a considerable amount of time online, so I’m actually being more productive here than I would be at home due to current lack of internet there. The Chile chapter is coming along nicely, so I should be finished in the next few days, though I won’t be editing it before the end of the month. Have to send several queries to James, my editor, with regard to improving the text.
Haven’t heard back from Bryn, my Trailblazer editor. He should have already sent me the de-Quarked text, but I know that there have been delays due to his mother’s recent death, as she was one of the editors. It would be good to meet up with him before departure for a last-minute briefing, but it looks like it’ll be a bit touch-and-go.
Decide that my friend’s pregnancy means that I can actually come down and visit her for longer when her baby is born, since she’ll probably be going stir-crazy at home, and she’ll probably need a hand around the house due to perpetual sleep deprivation.
Have done a rough day-by-day breakdown of the trans-Siberian trip, and technically, I have about six days spare out of my grand total of 67, so I could potentially make that side trip to Hanoi from Beijing. However, knowing my luck, there will be unexpected delays en-route, and I’m sure I’ll need more time to see everything than I actually think I will, so this means that I have to sacrifice Vietnam. It would take me two days by train to even get there from Beijing, and four days’ travel is just not worth it for a stay of two days. Next time…
My friend and I spend time by the sea, discussing careers. We reach the conclusion that we’re both on track with regard to what we want to do, but haven’t yet reached our full potential.
Round off a productive day with ‘Eclipse’ at the movies. It’s strangely compelling, this story of an American teenage girl in love with a vampire, though her behaviour gets increasingly irritating and it figures that the Mormon author would include an old-fashioned vampire boyfriend who’s against sex before marriage.
Haven’t heard back from Bryn, my Trailblazer editor. He should have already sent me the de-Quarked text, but I know that there have been delays due to his mother’s recent death, as she was one of the editors. It would be good to meet up with him before departure for a last-minute briefing, but it looks like it’ll be a bit touch-and-go.
Decide that my friend’s pregnancy means that I can actually come down and visit her for longer when her baby is born, since she’ll probably be going stir-crazy at home, and she’ll probably need a hand around the house due to perpetual sleep deprivation.
Have done a rough day-by-day breakdown of the trans-Siberian trip, and technically, I have about six days spare out of my grand total of 67, so I could potentially make that side trip to Hanoi from Beijing. However, knowing my luck, there will be unexpected delays en-route, and I’m sure I’ll need more time to see everything than I actually think I will, so this means that I have to sacrifice Vietnam. It would take me two days by train to even get there from Beijing, and four days’ travel is just not worth it for a stay of two days. Next time…
My friend and I spend time by the sea, discussing careers. We reach the conclusion that we’re both on track with regard to what we want to do, but haven’t yet reached our full potential.
Round off a productive day with ‘Eclipse’ at the movies. It’s strangely compelling, this story of an American teenage girl in love with a vampire, though her behaviour gets increasingly irritating and it figures that the Mormon author would include an old-fashioned vampire boyfriend who’s against sex before marriage.
Saturday 10 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 22. A breakthrough!
I get an email from the Russian consulate after midnight, telling me that my passport is now ready for collection. Yes! Though I was rather looking forward to going there with my sister and giving them a hard time for processing her passport before mine. Never mind; I'm sure I'll get my chance to lock horns with petty bureaucrats during the course of this adventure. Am picking up my passport on Monday because I can then combine the trip with a myriad other tasks: picking up my British passport from the Mongolian embassy, dropping it off at the Chinese embassy along with Steve's paperwork, and getting my first tick-borne encephalitus jab.
Have a bit of a retarded moment when I book my visa appointment online with the Chinese embassy and then realise that I can't possibly make the earliest time because I need to pick up my passport from Mongolian embaassy first. Rebook the whole thing.
Lightning-quick lunch with my sister at 'Patara', off Tottenham Ct Road. Fill her in on the Baikal route. She and Steve will have no say in it; this is a research trip, not a holiday. May even put them to work in Irkutsk to help me cover all the sights.
Work on the Easter Island section of the Chile chapter on the train down to Devon to visit my best friend. The main sights are now covered; now for the finicky bit - making sure that all the addresses, phone numbers and website addresses are correct.
A bit melancholy; find out that the professor that I'd been looking after pre-South America had passed away on Saturday. He was a cantankerous, willful man, but also a very intelligent one; I enjoyed reading Russian poetry to him and actually grew rather fond of him. Feel bad about not inquiring about him earlier; I could've caught him alive last week. It's hard to leave one's work behind when it involves human beings.
My best friend is pregnant! Am very happy for her, but also know that in six months' time, things will change irreversibly; I shan't be able to just drop in on her whenever I feel like it.
Plod on with the Chile chapter. Interrupted by a phone call from Rasheed, one of my death row friends. Haven't talked to him for months, so it's good to know that he's alive and well. Arrange to write to him via his son while on the road. I feel that I've neglected my death row guys this year due to spending so much time on the road and not being able to correspond as often as I'd like. Must make amends before leaving for Russia.
Have a bit of a retarded moment when I book my visa appointment online with the Chinese embassy and then realise that I can't possibly make the earliest time because I need to pick up my passport from Mongolian embaassy first. Rebook the whole thing.
Lightning-quick lunch with my sister at 'Patara', off Tottenham Ct Road. Fill her in on the Baikal route. She and Steve will have no say in it; this is a research trip, not a holiday. May even put them to work in Irkutsk to help me cover all the sights.
Work on the Easter Island section of the Chile chapter on the train down to Devon to visit my best friend. The main sights are now covered; now for the finicky bit - making sure that all the addresses, phone numbers and website addresses are correct.
A bit melancholy; find out that the professor that I'd been looking after pre-South America had passed away on Saturday. He was a cantankerous, willful man, but also a very intelligent one; I enjoyed reading Russian poetry to him and actually grew rather fond of him. Feel bad about not inquiring about him earlier; I could've caught him alive last week. It's hard to leave one's work behind when it involves human beings.
My best friend is pregnant! Am very happy for her, but also know that in six months' time, things will change irreversibly; I shan't be able to just drop in on her whenever I feel like it.
Plod on with the Chile chapter. Interrupted by a phone call from Rasheed, one of my death row friends. Haven't talked to him for months, so it's good to know that he's alive and well. Arrange to write to him via his son while on the road. I feel that I've neglected my death row guys this year due to spending so much time on the road and not being able to correspond as often as I'd like. Must make amends before leaving for Russia.
Friday 9 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 23. A spanner in the works.
Maybe I should've gone to Milton Keynes after all. Spend half an hour trying to get hold of the legalisation office over the phone; they put me on hold for 25 minutes and then the call gets disconnected. Not impressed. Am trying to find out how much it would cost to have my deed poll certified by a notary or a solicitor, which is one of the requirements before the office can legalise it. A solicitor in Cambridge has quoted me £80 for basically stamping the damn thing. A pox on the Russian consulate for making me do this. Why they couldn't put my new name in my Russian passport straight away, I do not know.
Can't get hold of the consulate when I call them to find out whether there's been any progress. The phone number, which worked just fine last week, now disconnects when you press '1' for the Russian language option. The English language option gets you nowhere fast as well. Have to go to the consulate first thing tomorrow morning along with my sister, who'll be picking up her passport, to find out exactly what the delay is.
Having trouble editing the Easter Island section of the Chile chapter. I have to cut one of the boxes - either the brief history of the island, the one on the rongorongo script, the one on the significance of the moai or the one on the Birdman cult. It's an impossible choice; it's all important. I'll see if I can incorporate one of the boxes into the main text.
Not an entirely wasted day. Since we don't have internet in the new house yet, spend the afternoon working at Central Library, as well as comparison shopping online for the vital pieces of travel gear I'll need. Find a top of the range trekking rucksack similar to the one offered by the Nomad shop. Perfect. It's significantly cheaper on eBay, though I seem to be doomed to own purple rucksacks; women's trekking gear never comes in sensible colours. My 80-litre Lowe Alpine Sagarmatha should arrive in a few days, and should last me until I'm 40. Now I just need to find a Gore Tex jacket.
Finalise the route around Lake Baikal, squeezing in the Circumbaikal railway, which'll take a whole day, plus time on Okhon Island and in Listvyanka, 'the Baikal riviera'. A couple of days in Irkutsk, and then an overnight train to Ulan-Ude, the capital of the Buryat republic. I need a couple of days to check out both the city, which is rumoured to be 'lively with an Asian feel to it', and the Buddist monastery at the nearby village of Ivolga.
Then it gets tricky: when I tried to look up trains from Ulan-Ude to Ulan Bator, Mongolia, the Russian rail website told me that they're booked up on the day I need to travel, whereas the Real Russia website displays ticket prices, though availability is 'to be announced'. Worrying. Much more of a concern is the booked up train from Ulan Bator to Beijing; there are only three per week and we have to be on the one leaving on August 19th, or Steve will miss his flight. At this rate, he might miss Beijing too; the distances we're covering are way greater than anticipated, and as it stands, we'll get into Beijing on the afternoon of the 20th and Steve will have to decide between the Great Wall of China and the Forbidden City, because we probably won't be able to cram in both. In fact, even one might be a push, since we'll be arriving in a completely new country, neither of us speaking the language, and will have to get our bearings, see the sights, and get Steve to the airport before the end of the day.
Steve's considering flying from Ulan Bator to Beijing to give himself some extra time therre, and I may have to follow suit if there are no train tickets, though ideally, I need to make the thirty-hour train journey in order to see what it's like and to make sure all the kilometre markers are in the right place.
This will be my most challenging trip to date. Travelling in South America is a breeze by comparison.
Can't get hold of the consulate when I call them to find out whether there's been any progress. The phone number, which worked just fine last week, now disconnects when you press '1' for the Russian language option. The English language option gets you nowhere fast as well. Have to go to the consulate first thing tomorrow morning along with my sister, who'll be picking up her passport, to find out exactly what the delay is.
Having trouble editing the Easter Island section of the Chile chapter. I have to cut one of the boxes - either the brief history of the island, the one on the rongorongo script, the one on the significance of the moai or the one on the Birdman cult. It's an impossible choice; it's all important. I'll see if I can incorporate one of the boxes into the main text.
Not an entirely wasted day. Since we don't have internet in the new house yet, spend the afternoon working at Central Library, as well as comparison shopping online for the vital pieces of travel gear I'll need. Find a top of the range trekking rucksack similar to the one offered by the Nomad shop. Perfect. It's significantly cheaper on eBay, though I seem to be doomed to own purple rucksacks; women's trekking gear never comes in sensible colours. My 80-litre Lowe Alpine Sagarmatha should arrive in a few days, and should last me until I'm 40. Now I just need to find a Gore Tex jacket.
Finalise the route around Lake Baikal, squeezing in the Circumbaikal railway, which'll take a whole day, plus time on Okhon Island and in Listvyanka, 'the Baikal riviera'. A couple of days in Irkutsk, and then an overnight train to Ulan-Ude, the capital of the Buryat republic. I need a couple of days to check out both the city, which is rumoured to be 'lively with an Asian feel to it', and the Buddist monastery at the nearby village of Ivolga.
Then it gets tricky: when I tried to look up trains from Ulan-Ude to Ulan Bator, Mongolia, the Russian rail website told me that they're booked up on the day I need to travel, whereas the Real Russia website displays ticket prices, though availability is 'to be announced'. Worrying. Much more of a concern is the booked up train from Ulan Bator to Beijing; there are only three per week and we have to be on the one leaving on August 19th, or Steve will miss his flight. At this rate, he might miss Beijing too; the distances we're covering are way greater than anticipated, and as it stands, we'll get into Beijing on the afternoon of the 20th and Steve will have to decide between the Great Wall of China and the Forbidden City, because we probably won't be able to cram in both. In fact, even one might be a push, since we'll be arriving in a completely new country, neither of us speaking the language, and will have to get our bearings, see the sights, and get Steve to the airport before the end of the day.
Steve's considering flying from Ulan Bator to Beijing to give himself some extra time therre, and I may have to follow suit if there are no train tickets, though ideally, I need to make the thirty-hour train journey in order to see what it's like and to make sure all the kilometre markers are in the right place.
This will be my most challenging trip to date. Travelling in South America is a breeze by comparison.
Thursday 8 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 24. Mongolian visa and the Baikal leg.
Am in London first thing in the morning. The Mongolian visa application process is quick and painless. I descend to the basement in Kensington Court, hand in my application form, £40 and my passport to the friendly girl and get told to come back on Monday for it.
Look for travel gear at the Nomad shop at Russell Square. Am coveting a Gore-Tex jacket and a new rucksack, both in the region of £160. Business expenses, it's all business expenses. Get the insect repellent for my clothes, at least. In the Amazon, I discovered that mosquitoes can and will bite you through your clothes, so I shan't let the Siberian mosquitoes get a piece of me. Speaking of bites, I call up the MASTA and find out that a tick-borne encephalitus jab is £65 a pop, and you need to have two. At the Nomad clinic, it's only £55, and you get 10% off all travel gear. Hmm. Pass on the info to my travelling companions; I know that I'm light years behind my friends when it comes to using high-tech mobiles, but today I've discovered that mine will let me access and send emails.
Sushi and a jaunt around several modern art installations with Jacob. He shows off his latest gadget - a vintage Yashica camera. I went through a vintage phase too, taking square pictures with a Leica - including some really atmospheric ones which captured the darkness of San Diego. I need to get a multi-purpose lens for my Canon before the Russia trip because Trailblazer have commissioned a few photos for the guide.
There's a floor-to-ceiling poster on the underground featuring a grinning man in a wheelchair; he's an optimist who'd got Motor Neurone Disease, apparently. Feel like I've been sucker-punched in the stomach; one of my friends, too, was an optimist, and he died of MND last year.
Have used the train journeys to and from Cambridge to roughly plan our time around Lake Baikal. We'll visit Okhon Island and Listvyanka before moving on to Ulan-Ude from Irkutsk. Plus, I want to do the Circumbaikal Railway, which means going to Sludyanka, taking the train to Port Baikal, and then doubling back to Irkutsk. It'd be more logical to take the train the other way, but it only runs at night, sadly.
Looks like I won't have the time to explore the eastern (and less touristy) side of Lake Baikal; I'll have to save the Barguzin valley until the next time.
The five-hour nights have caught up with me. I don't have the energy to go to Milton Keynes tomorrow to legalise my deed poll certificate before it can be ratified by the Russian embassy to explain the two different names in my passports; I'll send it by post instead. It may take a few more days, but as long as it's sorted out before the departure, it's fine. More importantly, I need to chase up my Russian passport.
Due to my befuddled mental state, I concentrate on the part of the Chile chapter that doesn't require much brainpower. Almost finish the Torres del Paine section; email my Erratic Rock friends to chase up a few details.
Look for travel gear at the Nomad shop at Russell Square. Am coveting a Gore-Tex jacket and a new rucksack, both in the region of £160. Business expenses, it's all business expenses. Get the insect repellent for my clothes, at least. In the Amazon, I discovered that mosquitoes can and will bite you through your clothes, so I shan't let the Siberian mosquitoes get a piece of me. Speaking of bites, I call up the MASTA and find out that a tick-borne encephalitus jab is £65 a pop, and you need to have two. At the Nomad clinic, it's only £55, and you get 10% off all travel gear. Hmm. Pass on the info to my travelling companions; I know that I'm light years behind my friends when it comes to using high-tech mobiles, but today I've discovered that mine will let me access and send emails.
Sushi and a jaunt around several modern art installations with Jacob. He shows off his latest gadget - a vintage Yashica camera. I went through a vintage phase too, taking square pictures with a Leica - including some really atmospheric ones which captured the darkness of San Diego. I need to get a multi-purpose lens for my Canon before the Russia trip because Trailblazer have commissioned a few photos for the guide.
There's a floor-to-ceiling poster on the underground featuring a grinning man in a wheelchair; he's an optimist who'd got Motor Neurone Disease, apparently. Feel like I've been sucker-punched in the stomach; one of my friends, too, was an optimist, and he died of MND last year.
Have used the train journeys to and from Cambridge to roughly plan our time around Lake Baikal. We'll visit Okhon Island and Listvyanka before moving on to Ulan-Ude from Irkutsk. Plus, I want to do the Circumbaikal Railway, which means going to Sludyanka, taking the train to Port Baikal, and then doubling back to Irkutsk. It'd be more logical to take the train the other way, but it only runs at night, sadly.
Looks like I won't have the time to explore the eastern (and less touristy) side of Lake Baikal; I'll have to save the Barguzin valley until the next time.
The five-hour nights have caught up with me. I don't have the energy to go to Milton Keynes tomorrow to legalise my deed poll certificate before it can be ratified by the Russian embassy to explain the two different names in my passports; I'll send it by post instead. It may take a few more days, but as long as it's sorted out before the departure, it's fine. More importantly, I need to chase up my Russian passport.
Due to my befuddled mental state, I concentrate on the part of the Chile chapter that doesn't require much brainpower. Almost finish the Torres del Paine section; email my Erratic Rock friends to chase up a few details.
Tuesday 6 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 25. It finally sinks in just how big Russia is.
Spend several hours on the Russian rail website, trying to see what the train frequency is between each pair of cities that I have to stop in, i.e., every major town along the trans-Siberian, trans-Mongolian and trans-Manchurian railways, as well as BAM - the alternative trans-Siberian route. Well, in Mongolia and China I'm only really required to see the capitals and around, but would prefer to see more if I have the time.
Discover two things: that there are now railway connections between Vladivostok and Sovestskaya Gavan', and that travelling between cities will take considerably more time than originally thought. See, there I was, thinking that it would take me 4-5 hours to travel between, say, Komsomolsk-na-Amure and Tynda, only to discover that it takes 37 hours. This means more overnight journeys in platskartny (3rd class) than I care for - not sleeping due to lack of oxygen, or squalling babies, and then having to get out in the morning and run around a city I do not know, trying to make sure I collect all the relevant info before hopping on the next overnighter. How my editor thought I could possibly cover all the ground necessary in six weeks, I do not know. Even nine weeks will mean travelling under considerable pressure. I thrive under pressure.
Trains seem to be pretty frequent, particularly from Krasnoyarsk, roughly in the centre of Russia, towards Moscow, though I may get stuck in some godforsaken place for days when travelling on the BAM. I may end up getting to know Severobaikalsk or Bratsk very well indeed. Haven't even thought about my daily budget yet; the Moscow-Irkutsk leg is pretty expensive (£235), but what price sanity and a good night's sleep?
The next step is to figure out exactly how long we should spend around Lake Baikal and how many days I'll need for Mongolia because the Ulaanbaatar-Beijing leg sells out pretty quickly. Off to apply for the Mongolian visa tomorrow.
Fairly productive day. Manage to acquire free furniture for the new house because I was present at the inspection of the old house as the only former tenant who doesn't have regular work hours, and it turned out that all the furniture would otherwise be binned as the place is being refurbished. Aggravate an old back injury while lifting sofas in and out of the van, and have to be careful not to do any heavy lifting in the next few days.
Bored of working on the Peru chapter, I switch to the Chile chapter instead. It doesn't really matter which one I work on, since the priority right now is to get all the maps finished and sent off, and to do that, I need to finalise all the accommodation and eating options in all the major cities. Luckily, I managed to get a fair bit of work done while in Chile, whereas in Peru I found it almost impossible to force myself to work on both my blog and the chapter writeup at the end of a long day. Will have to become more efficient in Russia.
The maps are coming along nicely; though it's very time-consuming, it's one of my favourite tasks - marking everything on and meticulously checking every detail while listening to Leonard Cohen 'Live at the O2' - the gig I attended in 2008.
Discover two things: that there are now railway connections between Vladivostok and Sovestskaya Gavan', and that travelling between cities will take considerably more time than originally thought. See, there I was, thinking that it would take me 4-5 hours to travel between, say, Komsomolsk-na-Amure and Tynda, only to discover that it takes 37 hours. This means more overnight journeys in platskartny (3rd class) than I care for - not sleeping due to lack of oxygen, or squalling babies, and then having to get out in the morning and run around a city I do not know, trying to make sure I collect all the relevant info before hopping on the next overnighter. How my editor thought I could possibly cover all the ground necessary in six weeks, I do not know. Even nine weeks will mean travelling under considerable pressure. I thrive under pressure.
Trains seem to be pretty frequent, particularly from Krasnoyarsk, roughly in the centre of Russia, towards Moscow, though I may get stuck in some godforsaken place for days when travelling on the BAM. I may end up getting to know Severobaikalsk or Bratsk very well indeed. Haven't even thought about my daily budget yet; the Moscow-Irkutsk leg is pretty expensive (£235), but what price sanity and a good night's sleep?
The next step is to figure out exactly how long we should spend around Lake Baikal and how many days I'll need for Mongolia because the Ulaanbaatar-Beijing leg sells out pretty quickly. Off to apply for the Mongolian visa tomorrow.
Fairly productive day. Manage to acquire free furniture for the new house because I was present at the inspection of the old house as the only former tenant who doesn't have regular work hours, and it turned out that all the furniture would otherwise be binned as the place is being refurbished. Aggravate an old back injury while lifting sofas in and out of the van, and have to be careful not to do any heavy lifting in the next few days.
Bored of working on the Peru chapter, I switch to the Chile chapter instead. It doesn't really matter which one I work on, since the priority right now is to get all the maps finished and sent off, and to do that, I need to finalise all the accommodation and eating options in all the major cities. Luckily, I managed to get a fair bit of work done while in Chile, whereas in Peru I found it almost impossible to force myself to work on both my blog and the chapter writeup at the end of a long day. Will have to become more efficient in Russia.
The maps are coming along nicely; though it's very time-consuming, it's one of my favourite tasks - marking everything on and meticulously checking every detail while listening to Leonard Cohen 'Live at the O2' - the gig I attended in 2008.
Countdown to Russia: Day 26 - we finally have our first train tickets.
Am working in the now-empty house. There's been some confusion with regard to the house inspection, and the agency's representative is coming tomorrow instead, so I'm spending another night here.
Call from my sister. We finally have our train tickets! Turns out that she'd gotten mother to call the relevant bank in Russia to find out why the transaction wasn't going through and they told her that they did not deal with Barclays bank. Why, of course that's the most logical explanation. Gosh, I wonder why it didn't occur to me. Why not Barclays? Because they're trying to combat fraud, apparently. Mind you, it's mutual antagonism, since Barclays block any Russia-related transactions. The bank is happy to deal with Lloyds bank, though, so the problem is solved. I can now write in the guide that you can avoid the middlemen and book the train tickets directly with Russian rail, provided you a) read Russian and b) do not hold an account with Barclays. I don't think they accept American credit cards either.
Mother comments that one of the reasons we'd left all those years ago is so that we wouldn't have to deal with absurdity, and yet here we are, willingly getting back into it all.
Never mind. We're over the first hurdle, and allegedly have tickets for the same air-conditioned compartment; two bottom bunks and one top one, so we'll just have to flip a coin to see who gets to clamber up to the top, using any hand- and footholds available every night, since there are usually no ladders. I hope it's not me; last time I had the top bunk on the Riga-Moscow train, my friends had to literally shove me up in a very undignified fashion on account of my having short legs. I shall lie awake, wondering if I'll roll right off the top bunk in my sleep. I won't be surprised if we're told upon arrival that the air-con's not working. Now all we have to decide is whether we risk using the reference number given to print our tickets out at the train station right before departure or register online so that the IDs used to book the tickets become our tickets.
There's so much to do around Lake Baikal, and I could easily spend a couple of weeks there, but Steve and my sister cannot; he's only got three weeks off work and needs to get as far as Beijing, and my sister needs to fly back from Ulan-Ude. Actually, I only have nine weeks to cover 35 destinations, with three of them - Lake Baikal, Ulaanbaatar and Beijing - warranting a week each, plus my wanting to spend a little time in Vietnam also, which won't leave me much room for error or much time for any single city. I hope that the inter-city transport is frequent. I need to finish up in Moscow by October 7th, the date of the Leonard Cohen gig, which would be a spectacular way of finishing off the trans-Siberian gig before moving on to Lithuania.
Call from my sister. We finally have our train tickets! Turns out that she'd gotten mother to call the relevant bank in Russia to find out why the transaction wasn't going through and they told her that they did not deal with Barclays bank. Why, of course that's the most logical explanation. Gosh, I wonder why it didn't occur to me. Why not Barclays? Because they're trying to combat fraud, apparently. Mind you, it's mutual antagonism, since Barclays block any Russia-related transactions. The bank is happy to deal with Lloyds bank, though, so the problem is solved. I can now write in the guide that you can avoid the middlemen and book the train tickets directly with Russian rail, provided you a) read Russian and b) do not hold an account with Barclays. I don't think they accept American credit cards either.
Mother comments that one of the reasons we'd left all those years ago is so that we wouldn't have to deal with absurdity, and yet here we are, willingly getting back into it all.
Never mind. We're over the first hurdle, and allegedly have tickets for the same air-conditioned compartment; two bottom bunks and one top one, so we'll just have to flip a coin to see who gets to clamber up to the top, using any hand- and footholds available every night, since there are usually no ladders. I hope it's not me; last time I had the top bunk on the Riga-Moscow train, my friends had to literally shove me up in a very undignified fashion on account of my having short legs. I shall lie awake, wondering if I'll roll right off the top bunk in my sleep. I won't be surprised if we're told upon arrival that the air-con's not working. Now all we have to decide is whether we risk using the reference number given to print our tickets out at the train station right before departure or register online so that the IDs used to book the tickets become our tickets.
There's so much to do around Lake Baikal, and I could easily spend a couple of weeks there, but Steve and my sister cannot; he's only got three weeks off work and needs to get as far as Beijing, and my sister needs to fly back from Ulan-Ude. Actually, I only have nine weeks to cover 35 destinations, with three of them - Lake Baikal, Ulaanbaatar and Beijing - warranting a week each, plus my wanting to spend a little time in Vietnam also, which won't leave me much room for error or much time for any single city. I hope that the inter-city transport is frequent. I need to finish up in Moscow by October 7th, the date of the Leonard Cohen gig, which would be a spectacular way of finishing off the trans-Siberian gig before moving on to Lithuania.
Monday 5 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 27 - we almost get our first train ticket. Almost.
It's incredible just how much grime can accumulate in one house over twelve years, and it's just our luck that we were the last tenants there and had to spend the day scrubbing and hoovering. The whole day is gone! Have had a change of heart overnight and decided that travelling 3rd class for four days in what is currently Russia's hottest summer for decades may be unbearable. I need to be able to open the windows, and I fear that I'll be no match for a Russian granny who doesn't like draughts. If I don't have enough fresh air, I can't sleep, and if I can't sleep, I can't function, and ideally I'd like to be able to work during that first stretch.
Call my sister and tell her that I've changed my mind. Delegate responsibility for booking the tickets. She may be a sloth, but she's able to mobilise herself when her holiday's at stake. She tells me that mother has suggested that we book the tickets under our British names. I think that mother really should know better, having lived in the Soviet Union for much of adult life, and that that's the worst idea since Hitler's father and mother had decided to consummate their passion and tell my sister so. The first pre-trip argument ensues.
Me: If we book under our English names, they'll want to check our visas, and when they dicover that we don't have any, there'll be no end of trouble.
My sister: But I don't see what difference it makes which names we book under.
Me: I can see that. The names on the tickets have to correspond with our IDs, and since we're travelling in Russia, we have to travel on our Russian passports. We can't use our British passports!
My sister: But we're not crossing any borders; I don't see why they'd even check.
Me: If they see foreign names, of course they'll check! You didn't think we'd even need ID numbers to book train tickets. Trust me on this.
My sister: But I still don't see why... [And on and on, ad nauseum].
She calls me at 5pm. The good news is, she's found a 2nd class carriage with air-con with three free berths. The bad news is, Visa's anti-fraud system has decided that she was trying to make a fraudulent transaction and blocked it. She's called them, but has to wait for a couple of hours before trying again.
At 10pm, the transaction almost went through, but was declined by Russian rail. Last I heard, she was trying a different credit card. This is only hurdle no. 1. I'm already feeling harassed and exhausted, and I'm not even the one booking these tickets.
Meantime, I've been looking up Mongolian, Chinese and Vietnamese visa requirements. For the Mongolian, I have to go in person, the embassy is open only between 10am and 12.30pm daily and there's no clue as to whether one has to book an appointment. I'm assuming not. The Chinese visa is the cheapest, and the Vietnamese is the optional extra. If I do a visa a week, I may just be ready on time.
Have just completed an excellent section on Peruvian food (if I do say so myself) and trying to finish the intro to outdoor activity. I really need to set aside a day or two just for editing, because am already five pages over the original limit, and my brief tells me to cut the original text, not add to it.
Call my sister and tell her that I've changed my mind. Delegate responsibility for booking the tickets. She may be a sloth, but she's able to mobilise herself when her holiday's at stake. She tells me that mother has suggested that we book the tickets under our British names. I think that mother really should know better, having lived in the Soviet Union for much of adult life, and that that's the worst idea since Hitler's father and mother had decided to consummate their passion and tell my sister so. The first pre-trip argument ensues.
Me: If we book under our English names, they'll want to check our visas, and when they dicover that we don't have any, there'll be no end of trouble.
My sister: But I don't see what difference it makes which names we book under.
Me: I can see that. The names on the tickets have to correspond with our IDs, and since we're travelling in Russia, we have to travel on our Russian passports. We can't use our British passports!
My sister: But we're not crossing any borders; I don't see why they'd even check.
Me: If they see foreign names, of course they'll check! You didn't think we'd even need ID numbers to book train tickets. Trust me on this.
My sister: But I still don't see why... [And on and on, ad nauseum].
She calls me at 5pm. The good news is, she's found a 2nd class carriage with air-con with three free berths. The bad news is, Visa's anti-fraud system has decided that she was trying to make a fraudulent transaction and blocked it. She's called them, but has to wait for a couple of hours before trying again.
At 10pm, the transaction almost went through, but was declined by Russian rail. Last I heard, she was trying a different credit card. This is only hurdle no. 1. I'm already feeling harassed and exhausted, and I'm not even the one booking these tickets.
Meantime, I've been looking up Mongolian, Chinese and Vietnamese visa requirements. For the Mongolian, I have to go in person, the embassy is open only between 10am and 12.30pm daily and there's no clue as to whether one has to book an appointment. I'm assuming not. The Chinese visa is the cheapest, and the Vietnamese is the optional extra. If I do a visa a week, I may just be ready on time.
Have just completed an excellent section on Peruvian food (if I do say so myself) and trying to finish the intro to outdoor activity. I really need to set aside a day or two just for editing, because am already five pages over the original limit, and my brief tells me to cut the original text, not add to it.
Sunday 4 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 28 - we decide which train to take.
Day spent shuttling back and forth between the old house and new. Furniture dismantled, assembled, carried up and down stairs. My new room is a dump. Bags everywhere. Staying in the old house overnight because there's no internet at the new house yet and I must work.
Book my flight to Moscow. I'm off on the June 30th, which means that I've lost a day in terms of Peru/Chile writeup and will have to revise my workload accordingly.
Steve, my sister and I have a crisis meeting about the trans-Siberian trip; Steve's coming with me as far as Beijing, and my sister's coming to Lake Baikal. Try to impress upon them that I have to spend some time in various towns and villages around the lake. Unfortunately, I can't stop by the southern half on the way back because it would mean a massive detour, so I need to make sure I've covered Irkutsk, Okhon Island, Listvyanka and other places of interest. A week no longer seems like enough, though I'd have to seriously plan my travels, day-by-day, in order to work out just how much time I can afford to spend in each place. Nor can I just go on to Mongolia from Irkutsk; I have to stop over in Ulan-Ude for a day at least, since it's the centre of Buryat culture and it's one of the few places in Russia to have a Buddhist monestery.
We manage to decide on a departure date from Moscow: August 1st. Steve and I are keen to travel 3rd class because it's significantly cheaper than 2nd class. Out of the four trains, the only one which has third class carriages arrives in Irkutsk at a crazy time of 3am. We doublecheck that it's 3am actual time, rather than Moscow time, since the Russian railway website has the annoying habit of posting all arrival times in Moscow time - never mind that Russia stretches across eight time zones.
We're trying to book our tickets via the railway website (in Russian only) to avoid the 20-30% markup charged by various middle companies, but it remains to be seen whether it'll accept our credit cards. I'd warned my sister that we'll probably need ID numbers to book tickets on the Russian railway website, and she was very dismissive of my prophecies of doom. Ha. I'm right, of course, and we either have to give our Russian passport numbers (which we do not have) or our birth certificate numbers (mine's at the new house, and my sister's boyfriend can't work out which bit of her certificate is the serial number). We call it a night.
Must sit down tomorrow and figure out when I'm getting visas, not to mention planning the trip, day by day. And do seven Peruvian pages.
Manage to complete the 'drinks' section in Peruvian 'Food and Drink', and get a start on 'Dangers and Annoyances'.
Book my flight to Moscow. I'm off on the June 30th, which means that I've lost a day in terms of Peru/Chile writeup and will have to revise my workload accordingly.
Steve, my sister and I have a crisis meeting about the trans-Siberian trip; Steve's coming with me as far as Beijing, and my sister's coming to Lake Baikal. Try to impress upon them that I have to spend some time in various towns and villages around the lake. Unfortunately, I can't stop by the southern half on the way back because it would mean a massive detour, so I need to make sure I've covered Irkutsk, Okhon Island, Listvyanka and other places of interest. A week no longer seems like enough, though I'd have to seriously plan my travels, day-by-day, in order to work out just how much time I can afford to spend in each place. Nor can I just go on to Mongolia from Irkutsk; I have to stop over in Ulan-Ude for a day at least, since it's the centre of Buryat culture and it's one of the few places in Russia to have a Buddhist monestery.
We manage to decide on a departure date from Moscow: August 1st. Steve and I are keen to travel 3rd class because it's significantly cheaper than 2nd class. Out of the four trains, the only one which has third class carriages arrives in Irkutsk at a crazy time of 3am. We doublecheck that it's 3am actual time, rather than Moscow time, since the Russian railway website has the annoying habit of posting all arrival times in Moscow time - never mind that Russia stretches across eight time zones.
We're trying to book our tickets via the railway website (in Russian only) to avoid the 20-30% markup charged by various middle companies, but it remains to be seen whether it'll accept our credit cards. I'd warned my sister that we'll probably need ID numbers to book tickets on the Russian railway website, and she was very dismissive of my prophecies of doom. Ha. I'm right, of course, and we either have to give our Russian passport numbers (which we do not have) or our birth certificate numbers (mine's at the new house, and my sister's boyfriend can't work out which bit of her certificate is the serial number). We call it a night.
Must sit down tomorrow and figure out when I'm getting visas, not to mention planning the trip, day by day. And do seven Peruvian pages.
Manage to complete the 'drinks' section in Peruvian 'Food and Drink', and get a start on 'Dangers and Annoyances'.
Saturday 3 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: Day 29 - the surname fiasco.
Day mostly spent shuttling boxes to the new house. Had to clean new house because the landlord 'forgot' to. None of us are very impressed. He's also left us a collection of absurd and impractical furniture, such as an antique desk and a double bed that doesn't fit into either of the smaller rooms.
Have the presence of mind to call the Russian consulate to find out the latin spelling of my surname in my new passport. Even though my mother's surname is identical to my old one, I figure that that's no guarantee that it'll be spelt the same in mine, and I'm absolutely right! I'm wising up to their illogical ways. The nice girl on the phone confirms that they've stuck an 'aya' at the end instead of an 'i'; she also informs me that my passport is not quite ready. Three and a half months ago they told me three months, but that's clearly a loose estimate. What I don't understand is whhy my sister's passport was ready before mine, even though she'd applied later.
Hang up, and it immeditately occurs to me that the 'aya' can cause me considerable problems, since the name that I had changed via deed poll ends in 'i'. Now I have three names! Call the Russian consulate again and ask them to change the ending of my surname; they tell me that it shouldn't be a problem. Call my sister as a harbinger of doom and tell her of what had transpired. She's already booked her flight to Moscow, so she now has to call both the airline and the consulate to verify whether the ending of her surname is the same as mine and to see if that's going to be a problem. She's not pleased.
Finish the day by doing several Peruvian maps and working out just how many pages/maps per days I'll have to do in order to finish on time. 7 Peruvian pages per day (though most of the maps are done) and 5 Chilean pages per day during the second half of this month. Discover that I'm missing a detailed map of the Colca Canyon and send a request to Mike, since he's more likely to find it in Peru than I am to find it here.
Have the presence of mind to call the Russian consulate to find out the latin spelling of my surname in my new passport. Even though my mother's surname is identical to my old one, I figure that that's no guarantee that it'll be spelt the same in mine, and I'm absolutely right! I'm wising up to their illogical ways. The nice girl on the phone confirms that they've stuck an 'aya' at the end instead of an 'i'; she also informs me that my passport is not quite ready. Three and a half months ago they told me three months, but that's clearly a loose estimate. What I don't understand is whhy my sister's passport was ready before mine, even though she'd applied later.
Hang up, and it immeditately occurs to me that the 'aya' can cause me considerable problems, since the name that I had changed via deed poll ends in 'i'. Now I have three names! Call the Russian consulate again and ask them to change the ending of my surname; they tell me that it shouldn't be a problem. Call my sister as a harbinger of doom and tell her of what had transpired. She's already booked her flight to Moscow, so she now has to call both the airline and the consulate to verify whether the ending of her surname is the same as mine and to see if that's going to be a problem. She's not pleased.
Finish the day by doing several Peruvian maps and working out just how many pages/maps per days I'll have to do in order to finish on time. 7 Peruvian pages per day (though most of the maps are done) and 5 Chilean pages per day during the second half of this month. Discover that I'm missing a detailed map of the Colca Canyon and send a request to Mike, since he's more likely to find it in Peru than I am to find it here.
Friday 2 July 2010
Countdown to Russia: day 30.
Packing frenzy. Books and maps strewn all over my room. We're moving house this weekend, so I have to do my writing on top of everything else that's going on. Have a set number of pages/maps to do per day so that all the Chile and Peru work is finished by the end of the month. Have promised my editor that I'll get all the maps to him, ASAP, because I won't be able to make any alterations to them while on the road in Siberia.
My sister and Steve have been researching the train timetables and prices. The trans-Siberian jaunt is going to be more expensive than expected. My research trip's in danger of being hijacked. I haven't even booked my flight yet due to the fiasco with my passports; as of last year, I can only travel to Russia on a Russian passport, so I applied for it before I left for South America. The consulate informed me that it should take up to three months to be ready, so it technically should be ready by now, but unlike my sister, I've had no communication from the Russian embassy to let me know that that's the case. That doesn't mean that it's not ready, but the situation is still worrying. The additional problem is that I have a different name in my British passport, having changed it for professional reasons last year, so am not sure which name to book my flight under.
Explain my dilemma to the woman at Trailfinders. It's the first time she'd come across a situation like mine, so she calls the visa section and they tell her that I should book the ticket under my Russian name. The only thing is, I don't know how they've spelt it in my new passport (which may or may not be ready); just because they spelt my mother's surname (the same as my former one) a certain way is no guarantee that mine's been spelt the same. I'm stuck.
Apart from that, there are the visas to be obtained - the Mongolian, the Chinese and possibly the Vietnamese (if I have time to make a short excursion into Vietnam), and those should go in my British passport, though this, combined with my name change, will cause extra confusion at the borders, I'm sure.
We go sign our new house contract. Am devastated when I discover that my favourite restaurant's been replaced with a Chinese place. Stop by to see an old housemate, since Rough Guides still insist on sending the free copy of the guide I've been working on to my old address.
More packing, cleaning, planning. Up till 2am, working on my Peru maps.
My sister and Steve have been researching the train timetables and prices. The trans-Siberian jaunt is going to be more expensive than expected. My research trip's in danger of being hijacked. I haven't even booked my flight yet due to the fiasco with my passports; as of last year, I can only travel to Russia on a Russian passport, so I applied for it before I left for South America. The consulate informed me that it should take up to three months to be ready, so it technically should be ready by now, but unlike my sister, I've had no communication from the Russian embassy to let me know that that's the case. That doesn't mean that it's not ready, but the situation is still worrying. The additional problem is that I have a different name in my British passport, having changed it for professional reasons last year, so am not sure which name to book my flight under.
Explain my dilemma to the woman at Trailfinders. It's the first time she'd come across a situation like mine, so she calls the visa section and they tell her that I should book the ticket under my Russian name. The only thing is, I don't know how they've spelt it in my new passport (which may or may not be ready); just because they spelt my mother's surname (the same as my former one) a certain way is no guarantee that mine's been spelt the same. I'm stuck.
Apart from that, there are the visas to be obtained - the Mongolian, the Chinese and possibly the Vietnamese (if I have time to make a short excursion into Vietnam), and those should go in my British passport, though this, combined with my name change, will cause extra confusion at the borders, I'm sure.
We go sign our new house contract. Am devastated when I discover that my favourite restaurant's been replaced with a Chinese place. Stop by to see an old housemate, since Rough Guides still insist on sending the free copy of the guide I've been working on to my old address.
More packing, cleaning, planning. Up till 2am, working on my Peru maps.
Thursday 1 July 2010
Day 83-85: last days in Lima and the brutal return to reality.
More of the Peru chapter is written up and more good food consumed. Two days before I'm due to leave, Mika and Monica get a Spanish Couchsurfer who'd never tried sushi, so clearly, the only way to remedy that is to get takeaway from Edo Sushi. They do some of the most imaginative and delicious maki rolls I've ever tasted, and no wonder - they're patronised by the likes of Nobu and various Latin American rock bands. The good thing about Lima is that unlike the sometimes snobby eating scene in London or New York, where mere mortals can't get into some elitist places, here you can go to any fine establishment without a problem.
On my penultimate day, I have a lunch date with Leo. Mike convinces me that Leo's meeting won't possibly finish before lunchtime, so we head for the centre of Lima to finish fitting my crown. As luck would have it, Leo calls me as soon as we reach the centre, so I fidget all the way through my dental appointment. Never trust a Peruvian dentist: Lucho told me that it would take 5-10 minutes to fit my crown, but it ends up taking forty minutes, with constant measuring, drilling and remeasuring. Am very satisfied with the final results, though.
Leo waits for me with typical Peruvian patience at Larcomar, the seafront mall set in the cliffs of Miraflores. Though lunch at the mall food court is not quite what I'd envisaged, I thoroughly enjoy my two hours there, and the course of events lead me to believe that if I wanted something to happen next time, it would. Of course, now I'm not sure I want anything, and after bidding him farewell, I take a long walk along the cliffs to clear my head.
On my last day I'm unable to work; it's taken up by packing, lunch with Monica's delightful family and friends, and flying. At the airport, I discover that the airline I've flown to Latin America with every other time has decided to change its baggage rules, and that I'm only allowed 23kg of luggage. Bloody Iberia. Repack in a frenzy, and manage to use my extra holdall as the biggest bit of 'hand luggage' I've ever travelled with. My Kelty still weighs 26.5kg, but they don't take issue with that. Then I somehow manage to lose my immigration card (which I got at the Chile-Peru border and which you have to hand in on departure); I have it before I put my stuff through the x-ray machine, and then it's gone, and after a fruitless search, I have to pay a 15 sol fine to the grumpy immigration lady.
Am catatonic/asleep throughout much of the flight to Madrid and then to London. Am halfway through 'Lost in Moscow: A Brat in the USSR', written by a Canadian who spent a summer in a pioneer camp there in 1977. It's a really annoying book; she comes across as a whiny kid who complains about everything, and I get the impression that she'd missed the point of the cultural exchange.
[Though the Latin America leg of my travels has now reached its end, what I've decided to do now is to extend '90 Days...' and for the duration of July do a countdown to my next trip - a grand adventure spanning Siberia, Mongolia, China and possibly Vietnam. I have less than a month to get my act together, to write up my South American travels and plan my next research trip, as well as get all the necessary documents - visas, passport, etc.
The countdown begins now.]
On my penultimate day, I have a lunch date with Leo. Mike convinces me that Leo's meeting won't possibly finish before lunchtime, so we head for the centre of Lima to finish fitting my crown. As luck would have it, Leo calls me as soon as we reach the centre, so I fidget all the way through my dental appointment. Never trust a Peruvian dentist: Lucho told me that it would take 5-10 minutes to fit my crown, but it ends up taking forty minutes, with constant measuring, drilling and remeasuring. Am very satisfied with the final results, though.
Leo waits for me with typical Peruvian patience at Larcomar, the seafront mall set in the cliffs of Miraflores. Though lunch at the mall food court is not quite what I'd envisaged, I thoroughly enjoy my two hours there, and the course of events lead me to believe that if I wanted something to happen next time, it would. Of course, now I'm not sure I want anything, and after bidding him farewell, I take a long walk along the cliffs to clear my head.
On my last day I'm unable to work; it's taken up by packing, lunch with Monica's delightful family and friends, and flying. At the airport, I discover that the airline I've flown to Latin America with every other time has decided to change its baggage rules, and that I'm only allowed 23kg of luggage. Bloody Iberia. Repack in a frenzy, and manage to use my extra holdall as the biggest bit of 'hand luggage' I've ever travelled with. My Kelty still weighs 26.5kg, but they don't take issue with that. Then I somehow manage to lose my immigration card (which I got at the Chile-Peru border and which you have to hand in on departure); I have it before I put my stuff through the x-ray machine, and then it's gone, and after a fruitless search, I have to pay a 15 sol fine to the grumpy immigration lady.
Am catatonic/asleep throughout much of the flight to Madrid and then to London. Am halfway through 'Lost in Moscow: A Brat in the USSR', written by a Canadian who spent a summer in a pioneer camp there in 1977. It's a really annoying book; she comes across as a whiny kid who complains about everything, and I get the impression that she'd missed the point of the cultural exchange.
[Though the Latin America leg of my travels has now reached its end, what I've decided to do now is to extend '90 Days...' and for the duration of July do a countdown to my next trip - a grand adventure spanning Siberia, Mongolia, China and possibly Vietnam. I have less than a month to get my act together, to write up my South American travels and plan my next research trip, as well as get all the necessary documents - visas, passport, etc.
The countdown begins now.]
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