I smell the sweet sent of roasted almonds drifting from the nearby park as I crane my neck to look up at the vibrantly painted onion domes of the Church of Our Savior on Spilt Blood. Our cast has lovingly named it “the Ice Cream Palace” and although I’ve stopped by at least once everyday since we arrived in Saint Petersburg, I’m no less awed by its stunning façade.

A couple dressed in 17th century clothing poses for photographs with tourists near the exit of the church (for a ...
Continue reading...

After a while of traveling in foreign countries, you begin to realize that it's not just your luggage that can get lost. When you don't speak the language, you loose your ability to speak. If you can't decipher the written word, you loose your ability to read. And if you can't read the signs to know where you're going, you yourself can get lost. It can be a bit overwhelming, and at times humiliating, but I'm sure even Odysseus experienced frustration on his adventurous travels. This blog is my account of my travels. Hopefully, my blunders will assure others that they are not the only ones lost in translation.