Russia > Crossing the Russian border

Today we leave the Baltic States and cross the border into Russia. We’ve been warned in advance about the bureaucratic procedures at the Russian border. Previous travel groups reportedly spent five to seven hours getting through. Hopefully, we’ll have better luck. Just in case, I’ve packed an extensive lunch and some extra food for the evening. At eight o’clock, the bus is ready at our hotel. We have a new, larger bus and a new driver — Victor. He stands next to the bus and lets us load our own luggage. He’s from Estonia but has a stern, typically Russian look about him. I wonder if he ever laughs? Once everything is loaded, we drive out of Tallinn. It’s about 200 kilometers to the border, which should take around three and a half hours. Victor drives this route often, and that experience will probably come in handy as we approach Narva, the border town. Long lines of trucks are already parked along the roadside, waiting to cross. On the outskirts, in an industrial area, we pull into a parking lot where rows of cars are also waiting.

Russia - The General Staff Building opposite the Hermitage at Palace Square

Victor maneuvers the bus past the cars right up to a small booth. Several people crowd around it, but to my surprise, Victor is the first to return. We then drive into the center of Narva, right up to the border river. To our right is a long line of waiting cars and campers. Apparently, the border officials only allow one bus per hour to cross. Sometimes several buses are waiting, but we’re lucky — we’re first in line. Victor steps out to speak with the border guards but returns without success. After about fifteen minutes, he tries again, this time with better results — we’re allowed to move forward. Victor drives past the waiting campers, blocking the entire crossing with our bus. Once space is cleared, we proceed to the next checkpoint. “Siesta,” jokes Victor when we find the booth closed. He gets out again to look for an officer and returns about ten minutes later with a woman in tow. The bus and passenger list are checked. Once we drive on, we are officially out of Estonia — but not yet in Russia. Between five-meter-high fences, we queue with the cars waiting to cross the bridge. On both sides of the river stand the old fortresses of Narva. In the past, fierce battles were fought here between castle lords. When the light for the line of trucks next to us turns green first, our driver swerves out of our lane and follows the truck through the green light. The signal was meant for one vehicle only, but Victor doesn’t seem to care — and honestly, neither do I, because we’re moving faster this way. Only one lane on the bridge is open due to roadworks. On the other side, we stop again at another checkpoint. Because we followed the truck, no other vehicles can cross for a while, so we’re helped quickly. We’re now officially entering Russia — though not quite finished yet. At the customs building, passports and visas must be checked. For now, there’s little sign of life. We see the blinds move slightly as someone peers out at our bus, but the door remains closed. After half an hour, another glance. Perhaps they hoped we’d have left? Finally, the door opens. Slowly and with deep sighs, the officer stamps our passports.

Russia - Dark storm clouds over the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg

After one last stamp for the bus itself, we’re officially across the border. All in all, it’s taken about two hours — remarkably fast! In just under an hour, we continue driving toward Saint Petersburg, where we arrive late in the afternoon. Our hotel is within the city, though still a few kilometers from the center. With over 4.5 million inhabitants, Saint Petersburg is an impressively large city. This means the distances are greater — but so are the risks, such as pickpockets, especially in crowded tourist areas. One of the best ways to get around Saint Petersburg is by metro. Because of the city’s marshy ground, the metro lines run very deep underground, and stations are few and far between. In the evening, we walk about twenty minutes to the nearest metro station. We take line two into the city center. At the ticket booth, I buy small metal tokens — one per entry, regardless of distance or transfers. Reading the signs in Cyrillic is a challenge, so I memorize the name of our starting station for the return trip. A long escalator takes us deep below the city. It’s still rush hour, and trains run every few minutes. A short ride later, we get off at Nevsky Prospekt, Saint Petersburg’s longest and most famous shopping street. At one of the ticket offices, we inquire about tickets for Swan Lake — a must-see in this city — and buy seats for tomorrow evening. Then we sit on a terrace along Nevsky Prospekt for a beer, right across from the Kazan Cathedral. After two beers, the waiter asks if he can close the parasol — bad weather is on the way. When we stop for a large sandwich at Subway a little further along, the rain starts, though the storm itself never comes. By the time we step back outside, it’s dry again. We stroll to Palace Square and the Hermitage, then continue to the Neva River. Twilight is falling, though it’s already past ten. Dark thunderclouds hang ominously above the famous museum. Passing the magnificent Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood, we walk back to the metro and return to our hotel.