Sunday in Djibouti

Our endeavors in Djibouti have yielded success and also exposed us to some small changes in the city. The prevalence of metal detectors everywhere, a swipe with a wand to get into the grocery store or even the coffee shop.

Right now it’s Sunday afternoon and I am updating my social media and eating my Fauchon candies from the plane. 

So we returned from the Nougaprix last night and headed to Le Santal, a restaurant here that features Chinese and Indian cuisine and has a pizzeria. 

  
We discovered it during our last stay. I had lamb vindaloo and two varieties of naan. I paid for dinner since I stopped at the ATM and accidentally withdrew twice what I meant to. M and I took the long way to the restaurant and the long way home to increase our steps and people watch. Because we’re white and stand out, every woman on the street changing money asks us if we have dollars to exchange.

We had our traditional difficult night last night— when the jet lag catches up with us and we end up chit-chatting for a couple hours in the middle of the night. I finally passed out at 5 a.m. local time (9 p.m. at home) and didn’t wake until 9 a.m. I woke a tad distraught because I wanted to wake at 7 a.m. 

  
  
Breakfast goes until 10 a.m., but there was no coffee. Might be because we overslept, might be that the espresso machine is broken. Hard to tell. I did notice a sticker on the window — K’naan, Dusty Foot Philosopher. K’naan hails from Somalia. I have three of his recordings. 

  
After breakfast, we did some errands to flush out our travel plans (Lac Abbé? Whale sharks?) It’s Sunday morning, so the streets are crazy and alive with everyone starting their work week.

  
We went to Bunna House for coffee. Crowded this morning and staffed by women making coffee and men in black Bunna House polo shirts doing the cleaning and serving. Logo knocks off Starbucks, serves Ethiopian coffee.

Then I started my quest for an African-style dress. We went to the bus station/market and found one dress with scarf/shawl. M didn’t like the price so we walked. We hope to go back and haggle later. We found other dresses and I bought one for myself and something for my daughter.

  
After dress shopping complete, we went for juice. The juice bar was our favorite part of the city. It has changed. No more outdoor patio with begging children and street cats. Plus the menu has either been reduced or they are out of fruit. I used to get ginger or cantaloupe. Today the options were lemon, orange, pineapple or mango. I enjoyed the mango but it wasn’t the same.

  

We returned to the hotel to find that the housekeeper had laid our freshly laundered towels on our bed with the ceiling fan on high to dry them.

State Parks Weekend with the Liberty Bell Wanderers

I have had a great month in October. My boot is off. I had a fantastic ortho who released me from his care on Wednesday (Thanks, Dr. Sacco.) I also have a team of physical therapists who have taught me so much in the four short weeks we’ve been together. (And I will probably have my final session with them on Monday.)

This weekend my family and I joined the Liberty Bell Wanderers in Willow Grove where we will visit four state parks. Today we walked 10 miles on trails and more around town.

We arrived at the hotel where most of the group was staying at 8 a.m. We were on the road fairly early for our first stop: a 10K walk through Fort Washington State Park. By about mile 4.5 my ankle had that mild soreness, but we came upon a playground so the swings, monkey bars and, no lie, FOUR WAY SEE-SAW soon made me forget a twinge of discomfort.

Oh! And we saw hawks swirling around at the Hawk Observation Deck.

Lunch was at Feliz Cantina. There we experienced a true culinary miracle: gaucamole with candied pecans, bacon and blue cheese. And I tried fish tacos. And I liked them!

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We went back to the hotel where we moved from (my friend and fellow walker) Gayle’s room to our room. She’s staying with us tonight. After a very brief respite, we headed out to Tyler State Park which reminded me of our local park, Jacobsburg.

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We only attempted a 5K, and to keep child happy we let her take photos of people’s dogs. I’ll have to do a count and perhaps a gallery of her dog photos.

Once again we found ourselves at the Hampton Inn in Willow Grove where child immediately hopped in the shower. I had brought cake pops from Starbucks, microwave popcorn and board games in my suitcase. Gayle and I went out for beverages (found a 7-eleven a half mile away) and somehow ended up with a pizza. On foot.

We had pizza, cake and chocolate milk and played Ticket to Ride (the board game). Child crawled in bed without a fight at 7:45.

Barnegat Adventure

  

My schedule suddenly opened up for a Monday— no plans for child or myself. The weekend had passed normally, which meant some of it was fun and some of it involved pre-puberty meltdowns every five minutes from my tormented eleven year old. My husband had to work, as usual, on Monday and I wanted to do *something* that would keep the child and I occupied. Preferably fun.
So, over my cup of coffee with my husband in the wee hours, I searched the AVA web site from my phone. We’re members of AVA—American Volkssporting Association, a group that sponsors self-guided walking tours of various points of interest— and our closest thing to a local chapter (Liberty Bell Wanderers).

I found walks in communities anywhere from an hour to three hours away, some in the mountains, one in Hershey, another in Lancaster, history-commemorating walks in Philadelphia, and many in New Jersey, including the shore points.

At 7 a.m., I roused the child and told her if she wanted to take a road trip and do a Volkssport Walk she needed to rise and shine. I consider volkssporting educational (reading maps, following directions, filling out paperwork, and learning about new places) and a good source of exercise since I push for the 10K walk whenever possible. Anything to keep the family moving. In my daughter’s mind, volkssporting means an interesting day, usually with a meal in a restaurant, and the chance to buy drinks at convenience stores. 

In other words, a win-win. 

I let her pick the destination. This avoids the pouting that eventually happens if “we always do what Mommy wants to do.” The first part of the equation was to narrow down the distance she wanted to travel. She told me she was willing to drive as far as D.C. That pretty much meant anything I might be willing to drive. I thought she’d want to stay a little close to home. But no. She is an adventurer at heart.

She picked Barnegat Lighthouse on Long Beach Island. The fact that she selected a beach did not surprise me, but it did somewhat surprise me that she picked Barnegat when I had offered shore points much closer to home. She opted for the 135 mile car ride. 

We didn’t set out until 7:50 a.m., and we had to stop for gas so I suppose our true start time was 8:10 a.m. We hit a bit of a travel snarl on 78E, which could be anticipated at such an hour on a Monday. It kept moving and we only “lost” about ten minutes. We hooked up with 287 and headed down to the Garden State Parkway, making our only potty stop at the Cheesequake Travel Plaza. Having never visited before, we didn’t realize there was a commuter lot and ended up parking— no exaggeration, I clocked it on FitBit— a half mile from the building. Honestly, after the first leg of our journey, the walk felt good.

We arrived on Long Beach Island about 10:30ish. We drove down the island for what felt like forever. Passing beach upon beach was like a tour in itself, like an endless array of possibilities. My daughter turned out to be an excellent navigator. 

We arrived at Kubel’s Restaurant at 11:07 a.m. The restaurant had the official walk box. It didn’t open until noon, but we didn’t exactly know that. We couldn’t find any info on the door or online so we decided to walk out to the lighthouse because the official walk had to pass the lighthouse. 

It was at this point that I realized I didn’t have my ATM card. This shouldn’t have been a shock as I never carry my ATM card. But usually I am with my husband who has his ATM card. And we were in a tourist area, heavily cash-based. I had something like $29 in toll money left and an additional $9 in our walking binder. I knew, if we climbed the lighthouse, I wanted to reward my daughter with the $15 t-shirt that required cash. 

After a quick tour of the area around the lighthouse onto the jetty and back. We happened upon a man fishing at the exact moment he caught a fish. We watched him unhook the fish and toss it back because it was too small. (We also saw a man with a prosthetic leg.)

  
This allowed us to see how much admission to the lighthouse would be. We stopped at the visitor’s center to use the bathroom and meandered back to Kubel’s as we were starved and thirsty.

We arrived at 12:01, got the walk box and a table and had the most amazing mac and cheese ever, baked lobster mac and cheese.

  
 It featured those thick spiral noodles with gooey cheese and a crisp top, with some grated cheese on that, and the innards had peas, cherry tomatoes and get this— diced tiny green beans. Delightful. Truly.

  
We decided to do the 10K. Our adventure took us to see the boats at the High Bar Harbor yacht club. 

   
 We deviated from the path to enjoy a 1/2 mile walk along the tip of the Atlantic Ocean, then back to the main drag. 

  
At some point we stopped at White’s Market for cold drinks. I even let the child have a black cherry Stewarts. The lady in the market gave us a paper with favorite things to do on it, and I have to say, the list tempts me to return. It’s an awesome list.

  
We also stopped at the post office to mail our start cards to the Princeton Area Walkers. 

  
We finished the day with a climb to the top of the lighthouse. 

  
After walking about 8 miles before the 217 step staircase, I have to admit my thighs protested heavily at the bottom. Might be the first time I ever had thigh cramps. They still ache a bit today.

   
 The day was fabulous and I didn’t even get that much sunburn.

  

Destiny USA: Carousel & near miss

We stopped at Destiny USA, which I’m told is the sixth largest mall in America, for lunch. The options were plentiful, but we were on a tight time frame and some restaurants had wait times.

Perhaps we shouldn’t have ridden the carousel first, but how could we resist?

 
It was a great carousel. 

We decided on Uno for lunch and we told our server we had to be outside in 45 minutes, by 3:30. The server assured us it would be no problem. The food came out, after we inquired about it, at 3:20. I put my burger, broccoli and mac and cheese into a to-go box and ate it on the bus.

And when I finished we were still waiting for 4 more of our group. It’s 3:49 and no sign of them yet.

But the carousel was amazing, $1 per ride. 

Just found the missing people. They also ate at Uno.

Highlights from Liberty Bell Wanderers trip

The extended weekend with the Liberty Bell Wanderers and Hagey Bus Tours has been an amazing experience. I am very impressed with the organization of the group and the bus driver; it is obvious that the two work well together and have a good relationship. I was dreading the prospect of so much time on a bus, but the walks break it up nicely and the group has distractions here and there (like a PBS documentary on the falls) to keep me from losing my mind.

Plus, they generously distribute water, which if you know me, is a key ingredient to maintaining my contentedness. In all honesty, I was a tad disappointed, or perhaps even more than a tad, that we didn’t see corner shops in Niagara Falls where we could buy water or snacks. Among those who travel, it’s commonly agreed upon that the Canadian side of Niagara Falls offers better views, more attractions, more items to do that are free, and has a healthier economy than the American side. Some of us who have visited the area before are, again, surprised by the lack of tourism on the American side. We expected a bustling environment since it was an early summer weekend.

  
I really loved that Indian restaurant, Bollywood Bistro. I also really enjoyed my eggplant from The Secret Garden Café. 

Another traveler in our group asked me what my favorite part of the trip was. I thought about it for a moment and I had to answer Buffalo. This shocked him. He asked me why.

The answer was simple. I found the people in Buffalo pleasant, with a wide variety of coffee shops (remember that I said Niagara lacked shops— this is the kind of place I would like to see on the American side. Coffee shops). I loved the train that sliced its way down Main Street, and Buffalo had some of the most unusual train stop shelters I have ever seen. 

The theatre district had several theaters, ghost signs, and a monument to locals in the film/theatre industries. In the midst of all that, the downtown and the theatre district showcased such a diverse offering of American twentieth century architecture. And, as I said before, City Hall is one of the most spectacular buildings I have seen. Even when considering I visited Paris and Moscow earlier in the month.

  
What made yesterday a little special for me was the fact that I earned my 35,000 step Fitbit badge. It was my first 15 mile day since I got my Fitbit less than a year ago. I occasionally hit 30,000 steps in a day. 

It’s the first day of the trip we’ve experienced bad weather. High 40s and rain and wind. We’ve amended our plans in our last stop of the trip to minimize rain and exposure… Will report later.

Hopefully it’s not an inland version of this:

  

O Canada

I can’t believe the trip with the Liberty Ball Wanderers has reached its final night in Niagara Falls. A tad sad really. Today I hit my 35,000 steps in one day milestone from Fitbit. I’ve gotten close many times but never made it…

But let me take a small step back. We went to Bollywood Bistro last night, a vegetarian-Jain Indian restaurant (one of nine Indian restaurants nearby), for dinner. I ate about $30 worth of food by myself I was so hungry after the 14 miles I covered during the day. The food was scrumptious.

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After that meal, we went on a 5k around Goat Island. I collapsed in bed around 10 and woke up still stuffed from dinner. I wandered down to the lobby for my first cup of coffee and managed to eat another oversized breakfast before embarking on the boarding crossing walk into Canada. We walked about 4 miles along the Canadian side of the falls, exploring various gardens and historical markers in addition to the breathtaking views of the falls.

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We came back to the hotel to play the Hampton Inn version of Mr. Potato Head.
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Then back onto the bus we went to visit Cave of the Wind (otherwise known as the place where you get dressed in a yellow garbage bag, wear cheap sandals, walk along some wooden steps and stairs to be sprayed with ice cold water). All kidding aside, the views of the falls were amazingly majestic. I think it may have been more fun than Maid of the Mist.

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We reboarded the bus for our long awaited border crossing into Canada as a group. Our first stop in Canada was the gardens near the Butterfly Conservatory. My husband and I visited here about 15 years ago and we adored the Butterfly House. But time did not allow it today. From the gardens, we traveled to Niagara on the Lake which I heard compared to New Hope and Cape May. It was cute.

We did a 5K that took us down to the waterfront, to the park across from Old Fort Niagara (which I visited once with my grandmother probably nearly 30 years ago), along Queen Street and back to the main drag.

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We bought butter tarts (a local dessert) and wine. We had to buy the wine after we had an amazing wine flight and cheese platter at Shaw’s Café and wine bar (named after George Bernard Shaw the playwright).

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Not to mention our waiter Andrew was a sweetheart and easy on the eyes. Okay, so the restaurant was gorgeous too, with winding stairs and a path through the kitchen to get to the washrooms…
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I’m so tired right now I have to postpone any further thinking… We leave at 8 am for another town and another 5k before we head home. Hopefully I can post a gallery of some of the pictures I have here, including phone booths and mail boxes.

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Eating Ice Cream with a Fork

While I was in Russia, I received a small group email from my friend Gayle. She and two of her family members were booked to travel with Liberty Bell Wanderers on a bus trip to Binghamton, NY; Buffalo, and Niagara Falls.

A seat had opened up and they needed to fill it with someone who could get time off work and had a passport for some travel in Canada.

I fit that criteria.

I got up at 3:30 am to drive to Gayle’s so we could drive down to the Philly suburbs and meet the bus before 7 am. We stopped at Wawa and I got some watermelon, always a good start to the day.

  
We started our day with snacks on the bus while we journeyed to Binghamton, NY, where we met the local walking club reps at the YMCA for 5k or 10k walks.

  

The architecture in town was fascinating. They had mosaics frequently on display. They also had a Boscov’s department store downtown.

  
Our group had lunch at Uncle Tony’s where we enjoyed the juicy marinated local sandwich, the spiedie. Delectable.

  
Then when we returned to the Y, they had BIG bowls of vanilla ice cream for $1. They ran out of spoons so I used a fork.

  
We’re currently on the bus, watching a documentary on Niagara.
 

Novosibirsk: Pizzasinizza Adventure, part 2

Our adventure in Novosibirsk certainly didn’t turn out exactly the way we expected, but it was fun and showed us a totally different side of Russia than what we saw in Moscow.

We stayed at the Marriott near Lenin Square and the staff was amazing. They helped orient us to the city, arranged for cheap taxi, and even made sure we had a boxed breakfast when we left today at 4 a.m.

We have had two days of 4 a.m. wake-up times and in both cases we departed the hotel ridiculously quickly. Yesterday it took us 15 minutes. Today 10. And we left with sandwiches, fruit, juice, yogurt and muffins in our boxed meal. That clerk at the front desk was insistent we take breakfast since it came with the room.

But back to pizza. We took a preliminary walk around downtown Novosibirsk, focusing on a strange tiny church in the middle of the street, the opera house and a delightful park. The park had a fairly dense collection of trees, some flute players in South American garb, two dogs lying on a blanket wearing sunglasses (begging for money, which seemed odd to me. How exactly do canines panhandle?), a woman giving pony rides, kids driving mini battery operated cars and a kiosk selling some overpriced but hysterical political themed t-shirts.

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We wandered to a local coffee shop, where the reality set it that no one around us spoke English. We managed to decipher the menu, and the prices were half what they were in Moscow. The cakes looked incredible. Travel always leaves me dehydrated so I ordered a “chai latte” (tea latte in English). In Russian, it looks like “yan (triangular staple shape)atte.” M stepped out on a ledge and ordered the mochachino.

My tea came in a pretty standard coffee shop cup with the types of coffee and add-ons written on the side. It had a lovely spice blend, I could clearly taste the ginger, and I’m not sure if they used a special local honey or if something about the milk made it so different and rich.

We also discovered one of those sidewalk drink huts that had a BIG bottle of water and it cost what I paid for the small ones in Moscow. That made me very happy. I have discovered my Russian vocabulary can only yield beverages. I can order coffee, tea, and water. And I can count to three.

At this point it was about 5 pm so we returned to the hotel to see if we had heard from our contact at Pizzasinizza. The answer was no. So we decided to wait until 5:45. We decided we had four options: get a cab, walk, phone them, or merely order the pizza for delivery. We had flown 7,000 miles for this pizza after all.

We consulted google maps, which implied that it would be an 8 km walk to the pizza place, a 15 minute cab ride or require three buses on public transportation. We used the map in the back of a magazine in our hotel room to translate the names of streets into a familiar alphabet, but this seemed not quite do-able on our own.

At 5:45 we had heard nothing so we headed to the hotel lobby. I at first asked for change for a 5,000 ruble bill. Russians seem to prefer exact change. And I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to use the equivalent of a $100 bill on the street or at a delivery-only pizza place.

Then, I launched into my more complicated of problems. I explained how I had come across this pizza place on the Internet but with our limited Russian I didn’t know if we could call them or find them. The front desk googled them. They tried to telephone but no one answered. They offered to call a car but seemed to think public transport would be easy.

The one clerk printed us a map, circled the metro stations and our destination address. He then drew a line for our walking path once we exited the station. “Take the red line,” he said. “To [insert Russian word here]. It is three stops, toward [more Russian words], that’s two words. You will see the river. Take the red line toward the two words at the end of the line. Then return to Lenin Square.”

He repeated the Russian words for Lenin Square a few times. He told us how much metro tickets would be and off we went. When we walked up to the ticket window, it was funny because I was only confident that I knew how to count to three. I think I know four— it sounds something like “chest” but I might be confusing that with the number six. We ended up with four tokens. And they were tokens that indeed went in a little coin slot. I don’t think I’ve ever used a token on a subway, always paper tickets or the smart cards.

The Novosibirsk subway has old cars and rides fast with the rhythm of an old wooden roller coaster. It was much easier to navigate than Moscow, but that was because we had some idea where to go, a familiarity with Russian subway basics and it was not rush hour.

We wove through the underground shops of the metro station and realized we had no idea what side to exit on to follow the map the hotel clerk gave us. We checked with some police officers. We had obviously picked the wrong side, so they added more arrows to our map to loop us around the block.

It got interesting because the streets in Novosibirsk aren’t labeled well, often not at all. We followed our map to where we thought we might need to turn, and asked (by gestures and pointing to the map) an older man in a military style uniform where to go. He pointed toward the street and told us a bunch of things in Russian we didn’t understand.

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We followed that street for a while and again got confused that we should be making another turn. This time we stopped in a little grocery store. We started down a cross street that brought us through block upon block of identical apartment buildings that represented the classic idea of how I pictured Russia in my mind. And the amount of garbage we saw along the streets reminded me of some of my experiences in Africa as if the West had merged with the developing world.

We had agreed that if we didn’t find it by the next major intersection, and if that street wasn’t a real commercial street, we would turn around. I had to use the restroom. Remember I said I bought a BIG bottle of water? That was ill-timed.

And then there it was. TWO pizza places side by side. We walked into the first, but despite the sign on the door, the hall seemed dark and as if it were private. We visited the second. That was Asterix Pizza. They directed us down the dark hall, which opened up to this bright little room where a woman was writing on pizza boxes with a crazy yellow seat beside her.

No one spoke English. But with the help of cell phones, we explained the situation and they let us order pizza. And I got to use the toilet.

The girl writing on the pizzas was checking Instagram to try and understand how this all came about, and I even turned on my cellular data so I could show her from my account. That’s when a message from our original contact pushed through. M texted whomever that person is on my behalf.

And we sat on a bench in a non-touristy neighborhood on the other side of the river in Novosibirsk waiting for our pizza. When it was ready, the cook made me count out exact change and handed me three pizza boxes and a wrap.

We embarked back to the metro station and to the hotel. We spread the pizzas out and ate on the floor. The pizzas came with some unusual dipping sauces: a not-like-in-America barbecue sauce, a cheesy-mayo like sauce and a sweet and sour sauce.

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We enjoyed our pizzas and were in bed by ten to rise early again today. Sadly, my contact messaged asking if we could get together for coffee before I flew to Moscow. I wish we had the time.

We felt very triumphant that we got the pizza. From the time we left the hotel to the time we returned was two-and-a-half hours. Ironically, there’s a Papa Johns about a block from the hotel. We enjoyed our pizza. More importantly, it showed us how truly sweet and helpful the Russians are and allowed us to explore the city.

Of course, M had proclaimed I am not allowed to pull a stunt like this again.

That’s okay. I can find something as equally crazy.

Arrival in Siberia: The Pizza Pilgrimage, part 1

We left our hotel room at 4:20 am to catch a 6:45 flight to Novosibirsk in Siberia.

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I have been following the delivery pizza place, PizzasInIzza, for quite some time on Instagram. When I ended up with a Russian visa, it became a joke. I’d ask, “Can we go to this Russia pizza place?” And that’s how I discovered it was in Siberia.

But we came anyway.

I have flown more than 7,000 miles for a pizza. Of course, we flew Aeroflot domestic from Moscow to Novosibirsk. On the plane, a local woman asked why I was coming to Novosibirsk. I answered, “Pizza.” She became quite confused. She asked if I had business here, if I ran pizza restaurants, if I had friends here, if I was a student (at my age?). She got even more confused when I said I was leaving tomorrow. She thought her English was failing.

In the end, she offered to see if her son could give us a ride into the city from the airport. We declined. So she helped us get a taxi instead. She wanted to make sure we weren’t ripped off.

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On the ride in, the taxi driver tried to talk to us, but we don’t speak Russian and he didn’t speak English. We passed a variety of interesting little houses, perhaps best described as colorful cabins. The only American brand I saw was a Harley Davidson dealership. If it weren’t on the other side of town, I would get my dad a t-shirt.

Gas prices appear to be ridiculously cheap, but this is Russia. They do have oil.

We passed what appeared to be a dog obedience class. And an equestrian center where people were out riding.

I also have learned a couple letters of the alphabet. The funny little O with the line down the middle makes an F sound. And it’s in the word coffee. The distorted pi that makes an L sound. The P makes an R sound. And the C makes an S sound. And there’s a lot of N’s facing all sorts of directions that make vowel sounds.

Hot Chocolate at the Pushkin Café

So we got up today again at 9 a.m. It’s a lovely, sunny Moscow day and the Lenins and Stalins are still hanging out in the area of Red Square, which, sadly is still closed.

I swung into the post office to buy a stamp. Each trip I try to buy a random stamp for my daughter and her teacher. They are usually cheap, unique and don’t take up room in a suitcase. My daughter now has France, Djibouti, Tunisia and will soon add Russia. I walked in, and without having any clue for the Russian words for mailing something, merely said the Russian word for “two” and I suppose she sold me two Russian airmail stamps. It cost me a little more than a dollar. But I paid with the equivalent of a twenty, so the clerk “huffed” under her breath and had to leave the room to make change. She made it a point to huff a second time as she counted it out to me. I was very
pleased with myself.

I went to a souvenir shop to buy a little something for my daughter. I won’t say what because she does like her surprises. It cost 150 rubles. I put 200 rubles up and the clerk shook her head. I sorted through my coins. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty… she counted as I counted. But I didn’t have another. I only have forty. She waved at me and said in Russian that ten rubles was nothing to worry about.

That also seemed like a win.

Red Square will definitely be closed all week. But we have gone down every day to see what we can see.

From there, we decided to begin our daily walk. We tend to wander with a loose goal in mind. Pushkin Café has been on M’s list because of the 1964 French song, “Nathalie.”

Today we finally found it.

This is not it.

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Neither is this, but this was next door.

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And then voilà, this IS it.

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The menu

Of course all we wanted was chocolate. And it was heavenly.

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