A Good Day

Things will undoubtedly get frigid here very soon. Sure, for all of our glibness before coming out here, Vladivostok is NOT actually in Siberia (it’s in Primorye, or the Maritime Province). And sure, it’s actually almost (not quite) the most southerly Russian city, with a latitude comparable to that of Boston, MA (OK, not the warmest city in the U.S., but not Moose Freezer, Canada, either – and anyway, well to the south of Paris, France). And ask any Russian, and he’ll describe Vladivostok as a swarthy southern port city; don’t be surprised if he conjures up palm trees.

But despite all this we know the freeze will come. For the fact is, Vladivostok’s winter mean temperature is lower than that of Moscow and St. Petersburg (although not a single Russian we’ve spoken to actually believes this). Streets are apparently closed down here in winter because driving is too treacherous. The port freezes over (although plying icebreakers will still presumably deliver our mother lode – exploded or not – of salsa come mid-December).

So, the freeze is coming.

Fortunately, however, that day wasn’t today.

Today was a beautiful fall day, by anyone’s standards. Even as I write this, at 6pm, I am in my shortsleeves, on our fourth floor balcony, drinking wine (courtesy of Korean Air business class – yes, goddamnit, I saved it), and watching the sun descend slowly over Golden Horn Bay.

Really the good day started yesterday, with our exploration of the “Pervorechenenskiy Rynok” – the market in the neighboring part of town. This was great for me because I discovered that Primorye is in fact full of seafood. This would of course appear to be self-evident: it is the “Maritime Province,” after all, and home to a sizable fishing industry. Yet some of the people we’d spoken to before coming out here had said that the local seafood offerings were surprisingly meager, perhaps because most of the fishing is for export.

Nevertheless, there was a pleasing array of seafood laid out in the market: fist-sized local scallops, large chunks of conch, all kinds of shrimp, and a number of seagoing fish, including salmon, halibut, and tuna. There was more exotic fare as well: sea urchin eggs; a strange crayfish-like crustacean called medvedka, or “little bear,” in Russian; and a surprisingly diverse collection of seaweed. What is most interesting to me is that all of this food, which I associate with Asian cuisine, was being sold by and to Russians. An indication that Russia is a bit more culturally diverse, perhaps, than it is given credit for. So I bought a kilo of scallops and 250 grams of conch, which I will sauté in butter, lemon, pepper, and chives as soon as I’m done writing this.

Although yesterday was a bit overcast, we woke up this morning to a bright, clear day, and realized we had to go exploring. After getting the munchkin weatherproofed in her oversized baby snowsuit and hitching her to Lisa in the Snuggli, we set off down the Goat Path toward Svetlanskaya street, the main thoroughfare leading into the center of town. Since we’ve arrived here we’ve been a little confused about local transport: how much should taxis cost? Which buses go where? Are we allowed to use embassy motorpool? (That last question alone could be the subject of its very own blog.) But I’m happy to report that catching buses into and out of town was both easy and cheap – 4 stops and 8 rubles (30 cents).

After descending in the center we briefly explored what appears to be a new, toney shopping center in the middle of town, with seven floors of high-priced European fashion and a sushi bar on the top floor. Something to think about in the future.

We then walked along the pedestrian street (Ulitsa Fokina) to the ocean, where there is a sort of boardwalk, where people were strolling. With lunchtime approaching, we very quickly followed our noses to a series of open-air grills, where we bought two plates of shashlyk, or grilled pork. We are pleased to report that it was so nice, we had it twice. And a couple of Bochkaryev beers to wash it down. For her part, Anya mercifully slept in her Snugli.

After strolling some more along the boardwalk (and taking note of a sad “dolfinarium,” which we opted not to explore), we set off back into town. I was pleased to find several purveyors of compact disks (today’s purchase: Modest Mouse’s complete oeuvre on MP3, along with two recent albums by my favorite Russian singer, Garik Sukachev ).

By this time, the munchkin, whom I was now carrying, was starting to stir, and so we found a café that my colleague at the consulate had recommended, “Presto,” so that Anya could feed and we could have some coffee. An oasis in central Vlad: we had excellent cappuccinos, taking note for future reference of the broad array of food and drink (mojitos!?) options. I even managed to change Anya on a windowsill without every Russian in the place giving me the skunk-eye.

(A brief aside: I’m pretty sure I’m the only guy in town who walks into town with his kid in a Snugli. In fact, until I saw a woman with her kid in a similar contraption yesterday, I would have said Lisa was the only woman to do same as well. Russians tend to stare: not disdainfully, but openly. The same way they stare at our clothes, or Lisa’s boots [see previous posts from St. Petersburg]. For my part, I’ve taken to winking at people when they stare.)

Following coffee, we explored the attractive art deco train station, with its announcements of trains headed to Moscow, six and a half days away.

After another hour of walking around, we caught a bus home – or rather to the foot of the Goat Path. 15 minutes of walking straight up we made it to our door.

All in all, a great day. Now it’s time for dinner.

[Post-Script, later that evening, and subsequent evenings: The munchkin paid us back for the fine day by crying her baby eyes out for much of the evening. What's going on, we asked ourselves? 5 hours of crying? We are hoping this is just, as they say, a phase...]