Late Night Logging

The following was written at about 2am last night till the computer died. So this is where I got up to.

I figured it's late, and my eyes hurt, but I can't put off blogging any longer or else I'll never do it. It's just one of those things you just have to do sometimes. Like save a child from a fire or stand up against injustice, so also sometimes one must blog.

Although the wireless internet that we've been sponging off here in our flat has just disappeared. I might have to ring up all the neighbours till I find the one that just switched off their router and tell them to turn it back on.

Oh well, I'll write offline for a bit.

The last time I blogged properly was after the Jazz concert. So on Monday, our last full day in St Petersburg we went to a Palace called Peterhof. This was built by Peter the Great. He was the guy who made St Petersburg. He built it on top of a swamp. God created the world out of nothing he created a city out of a swamp. Not bad for a dude with a last name like "the Great". It's probably Dutch.

Anyway, Peterhof had nice gardens and lots of fountains. Fountains everywhere. It's like Lake Burley Griffin gone wild. It's the Hornsby Water Clock on acid. I reckon Mr the Great was probably an aquamaniac (the pyros opposite). I've never seen so much water spurting into the air. I wonder if he was compensating for something? Maybe the boys at school used to tease him at the urinal for his lack of pressure. That's why I always used the cubicle. Regurgitator wrote a song about that.

Anyway, the fountains were cool. The whole place was cool.

At the end we caught the Hydorfoil back to the city and I slept the whole way. Blessed, blessed sleep.

That night it was off to the ballet for us. We saw Swan Lake and I managed to stay awake the whole time. Aren't I cultured? Those men in tights did real good. They're very talented, being able to spin and lift up girls. They were great. Imagine what they could do if they wore pants?

The girls were good too. It was fun. I liked the ballet. It was rather sad. I heard the story was inspired for Tchaikovsky by his own forbidden love, which made it all a bit more striking. And imagine falling in love with a swan? That would suck. It's like that guy who fell in love with a goat. They should make that into a ballet.

The next day we left St Petersburg. Goodbye Russia. It was fun. What a fascinating country. And I did love staying with valentine's family. They were the bomb! I liked them a lot.