I’m typing this from my flight enroute to meet up with Kimmy for this year’s girl’s trip. We are headed to Tallin, Helsinki, and St. Petersburg together before I head over to Latvia for a few days (there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say!).
I first expressed interest in traveling to Russia here, and since then, Russia has made me work to get to this point: there was the always “fun” attempt to coordinate our flights when we live in two different cities, sweet-talking my Russian coworker into helping me purchase train tickets from Russia’s railway site (damn cyrillic), the shock of the steep hotel prices in St. Petersburg, working with a travel agency to get my Russian visa (which was a disaster; don’t ever use Visa Network in San Francisco), and then re-planning the entire second half of the trip last week because Visa Network royally screwed me over in the visa process. Oh. My. God. Sometimes I think I need an assistant. Or a drink.
Now I’m on a flight with screaming kids behind me whose pastimes include kicking my seat. The worst part is that I gave up my seat back there to let that family sit together.
On second thought, the worst part may be that since this flight departed late, we’re delayed getting to the next stop. So, I may miss my connecting flight. Ugh, sometimes I hate traveling.