St Petersburg--why not?

So Eli and I were sitting on the couch during lunch break and talking about how we couldn't believe his 5 weeks was up already! Spur of the moment, I said, "Hey, let's go to Petersburg before your family comes." After realizing that the only time we could really do that was Tuesday, we decided to go buy tickets that night for a late train.

[Eli's take on this: On Monday at lunch the following conversation took place between Kimberly and myself:
Eli: Darn, it's too bad I never made it to St. Petersburg.
Kimberly: Shoot. That is too bad.
Eli: I really want some vafly.
Kimberly: We can't have vafly today because it's not vafly Vednesday yet.
Eli: No!
Kimberly: We should totally go to St. Petersburg tonight.
Eli: Yeah. What? What about our jobs?
Kimberly: ah . . .
Eli: O.k.
Three hours later we were traveling to three very frustrating train stations in a frantic daze to try to buy last minute, reasonably priced tickets.]

After many ridiculous hours in line we realized we wouldn't be able to get tickets for the train we wanted. For some reason, we had to go to a different station to buy them. Even though the train with plenty of seats was listed. Finally, we gave in and went to the other station to buy them. The waiting in lines wasn't a total waste--I met some very nice people in front of me. They asked if I was Norwegian. I'm going to say that's a good thing lol

The woman at the next station was so helpful we could have kissed her! It was so nice after hours of waiting and hassle. Olga voksal, we love you!
So we jumped on a train at 1 am Tuesday morning and headed off to find our seats (the top, which Olga recommended).

Train numbering has no reason for being the way it is as far as I could tell. Our tickets said we were wagon 4. After walking passed 13, 14, and 15, and still being told to keep going, I was sure there was no reason to this rhyme. But low and behold, the number magically jumped to 4, and voila, we had our train! The numbering was only going to get more confusing. We looked for our seats--14 and 16, I believe, and after walking passed 29, 31, 39, we were sure we would never find it. "What is this numbering?!" Two young men heard Eli and me speaking English as we searched for our seat, and straight away pointed out the direction and our beds. As he (Dima was his name), turned to walk away, I couldn't help but ask, "I'm sorry, how did you know this was where our seats were at?" He pointed underneath the bed and showed me the tiny number designating my spot. Why spots 14 and 16 are in the same place as 31, I still don't understand. But, hey, we had found our spots!

Dima came back shortly and said, "Kimberly. This is probably your first time travelling in such a way. I want to tell you to keep your valuables close by you--this is not like a coupe, and people could take them. Also, I will show you how to find the metro and get to the city in the morning." He really was a nice guy. I should explain here that we bought the cheapest seats imaginable, meaning that we were in an open cart--no one had walls and doors--all the beds are just out together.

Now came the exciting part--executing the gymnastics that would haul my butt into bed. The head room for the top bunk is ridculously small, but with the help of a step off to the side, and a bar to my right, I pulled myself forward. Only then did I realize the ceiling was even lower than I thought, and was going to be way too low for a complete execution of this move. I wormed my way forward, trying to pull my knees under me without toppling out of the bed, which would have led to me crashing into a table before I hit the floor. After much struggling, squirming, and giggling, I made it up. Eli and I were dying laughing, as my experience pretty much mirrored his. I had first watched him shimmy in before trying myself, and I give both of us an A for putting on a good show!

Unfortunately, the drunk woman next to me was not entertained by my manuever, as I had left my shoes on. What an offense!! Another woman close by motioned to my shoes politely, and directed me to put them on the floor. After I said Spasibo, the drunk women decided to repeat what I said in a less than kind tone and accent. I have to explain here that I say spasibo as if I were a 5 year old girl. I don't know why, but I say it like that every time. I could fancy that I say it like this in hopes that people find it endearing, but really, that's just how I say it--always have and probably always will. Some do find this to be cute, by the way lol

We pulled our matresses onto the bed and were hoping that sheets would be provided. Just as Eli had given up and decided to lay on his, we saw people going around with sheets.

After quite a bit of laughing and making our beds with the sheets we had obtained by showing our ticket, I was fast asleep, curled up next to my bag to keep all my "valuables" safe in hand!