Jetzt bin ich in München, after a long and VERY bumpy transatlantic flight. It was so bouncy, and for such a long time, that it was the first flight I’ve ever taken that I thought might crash.
A three-hour flight to St. Petersburg awaits in an hour, and I am sitting in the lounge with actual Russian people (the three young lads next to me are drunk, and it’s not yet noon).
Reading my travel guide, I have discovered that the Hermitage has two Leonardos, and that Dostoevsky’s last home is also in St. Petersburg, kept just as he left it, including the study in which he wrote The Brothers Karamazov. (I still prefer Crime and Punishment, which is also set in St. P.) Here’s his study:
The medical museum has what is reputed to be Rasputin’s penis (there’s a photo of the thing in my book, which, at ten inches long, resembles a giant priapulid); I’ll try to see that too. You can read about it and see a picture at this site, which is properly dubious about the species from which this paternal apparatus derived.
Enjoy St. Petersburg. It’s a lovely city.
Like I said, Jerry – try to get to see Pavlov’s apartment:
http://www.infran.ru/Museum_Pavlov-text_eng.htm
Bet he is salivating at the thought…
I’ll do the groan so you don’t have to!
That remark rings a bell.
Oh I’m envious, I would love to see St Petersburg! Please take as many photos as possible.
Actually, I thought the Hermitage had 10 paintings by Leonardo.
I love St Petersberg, but while you are walking around the city, be very careful of thieves. I know of someone who had a very expensive camera and lens stolen from a backpack camera bag. What they do is that the thieves work in pairs. One unzips the bag, removes the camera and departs while the other pulls down on the bag to give the illusion that the camera is still there until the thief with the camera has made the escape, and then also disappears. The Metro is another danger area. Putting a padlock on bags isn’t a bad idea.
“(the three young lads next to me are drunk, and it’s not yet noon).”
I’m sure it’s past noon somewhere.That’s my story anyhow.
What’s so bad about being drunk?
Ask a glass of water.
A Russian colleague explained to me that traditionally men, when travelling, started drinking as soon as they got away from their wives or mothers, and they only stopped when they got back home. It was the woman’s job to control the man’s drinking.
It is pretty common to see guys boozing it up in mornings in airports.
I don’t think it’s very common for Russians working abroad, though. The guys I worked with certainly didn’t drink in the mornings.
Walking through London today – admittedly a little after noon – three drunks at a bus stop one asleep on the pavement. And talking of drink, I have just discovered that Amy Winehouse (nominative determinism at work there) lived spitting distance from me. In a disgusting display of mawkishness there are still lots of TV satellite vans parked near her flat in Camden Square.
They have to. Just in case she rises from the dead or something…
Winehouse lived in Camden Square, right next door to a friend of mine—the British geneticist Steve Jones. He used to grip about all the papparazzi that were infesting his neighborhood.
I always thought Rasputin was poisoned and drowned, not hung (*_*)
LOL! Great pun.
Double groan! PS nice blog!
Poisoned, stabbed, drowned and hung, there was no doubt a reason why the Tsarina loved him. 😉
Too funny.
The medical museum has what is reputed to be Rasputin’s penis (there’s a photo of the thing in my book, which, at ten inches long, resembles a giant priapulid); I’ll try to see that too. You can read about it and see a picture at this site, which is properly dubious about the species from which this paternal apparatus derived.
Apparently, Prof. Coyne is unfamiliar with Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas’ favorite movie actor.
Perhaps it’s not surprising that Rasputin’s cock resembles a priapulid, given that priapulids are named for their resemblance to cocks (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Priapulida). The size of it though is a different matter.