Why I wear my wife's cloths!

There are many reasons why a man might wear women's clothing, not all suspect. Sometimes there are highly practical reasons to engage in cross dressing! Fortunately for me, Vicky's taste in clothes was far more masculine than feminine. As such, I have inherited a reasonable selection of polo and t-shirts. However, there are two items from Vicky's wardrobe that have accompanied me on this trip, both of which comfortably fit into the description of 'women's' apparel. But more on that later!

My flight to St. Petersburg arrived slightly early, at about 3:30pm (local time). Even so, by the time I found my way to the bus and began the journey into the city, a raven haired dusk was approaching. Although the temperature was already down to -21c the combined body heat on the crowded k13 bus belied the cold outside. A 20 minute ride got me to Moskovskaya metro station, to the south of the city centre, and a 50 metre walk had me descending into the warm, stuffiness of the metro station.

The St. Petersburg metro system is efficient, if a little antiquated. The city isn't massive, although sprawling. Buying a token, I quickly found my way to the appropriate platform. Platform is a bit of a misnomer.  Unlike any other underground system I've experienced, I found myself in a tiled corridor with a series of steel sliding doors running down each side. I felt more like waiting for a lift than a train. A distant rumble of wheels on tracks suggested that the train had arrived on the other side of the portal and, indeed, when the doors parted, there it was. The trains are old, and reminded me of the District line, as was, on the London Underground of the 1980's. with my rucksack on my back, joined the commuters on the carriage. With only one change of train, it wasn't long before I reached Vasilyeostrovskaya station, from where, I had been told, the hotel was just a few minutes walk. 

Arriving at Vasilyeostrovskaya, I had my only worrying moment. I couldn't help being reminded of the Moorgate disaster as I and about 2000 Petrovites shuffled through a 2 person wide tunnel to the foot of the single escalator to the surface. At one point, I swear, had I lifted both feet off of the floor, I and my rucksack would have easily been carried along by the throng! Eventually, I safely gained street level. Though I had a warm jacket on, I was still wearing the clothes I'd been traveling in and within a couple of minutes, the freezing cold penetrated my clothes and I started to feel decidedly uncomfortable. My exposed ears quickly lost their sense of being and I was eager to get into a warmer place.

I found my hotel without too much trouble - one missed turning, but I'm not averse to asking directions - and checked in. Taking some time to gather myself and take in my situation, I decided that I now needed to eat and probably could do with a drink and so prepared to venture back out into the night. Still wearing similar clothing, it didn't take long before I, again, began to feel the cold bite of the St. Petersburg air. Fortunately it was only a short walk before I saw a sign for an Irish pub! I opted for this as I didn't have the constitution to continue wandering the snowy streets. 

Entering the building, the similarity to an old pub was striking. Lots of things adoring the walls and ceilings - mainly with a football theme - smokey corners with people playing cards and a bar with several British and Irish beers on offer. Home from home, I opted for London Pride and a beef Stroganov!

The following morning, with the temperature no warmer, I instigated plan B. I unpacked the two items of Vicky's clothing that I'd brought from home. The first was less controversial. A set of salopets to go with Vicky's ski jacket that I was already using. Ok, not too bad, except that the fly zips on the wrong side! I know it's a simple thing, but why is it so counter intuitive! The second is a pair of 15 denier, 'nude' (I understand that this is descriptive of colour!) tights. A tip I remembered learning from a biker friend of mine years ago, was to wear tights under your trousers. And, guys, I can now honestly say, if you have every wondered how girls in England can go out at night, in the depths of winter, wearing little more than a pelmet, embrace the wonders of nylon.

I have now spent two days wandering the streets of St. Petersburg with a snug, contented smile and toasty warm legs!

I'll tell you a bit more about the city when I've done some exploring. Until then...da svidanya.