I set out for an adventure to Gorodets. After having researched how to get there, all I knew was that I had to go to a bus stop near the train station in Nizhny Novgorod. I exited the metro station near the train station to be at a bus station. I didn’t know if I was at the right station. I knew the bus left every half hour. I read the buses for the town words. Nothing. Then I used Google Translate on my phone showing it around to people. The bus driver had no idea. The older lady didn’t even want to talk to me so said “no” no matter what. The woman in the food booth was more interested in reading her magazine. The younger guy looked interested buy confused. I reviewed my cell to see I didn’t add “s” to the town name. All of a sudden, the town name became recognizable especially to the police officer I rushed up to. Usually avoiding them, this time I hoped this one would actually help. He answered in Russian gesturing with his hands. I hand no idea but nodded my head to his gestures. I knew to go straight with ten minutes before the next bus left. I rushed and rushed passed a corner to see the regional bus station.

I came upon the bus station cashier. I stated “Gorodets”. Of course, I didn’t say it correctly because she looked confused. Then she stated how she said “Gorodets”. I nodded yes…please give me a ticket. I had five minutes to spare. I opened the door to the minivan. The seat at the back door…available. The bus set off and we went. We stopped to drop off and picked up. I enjoyed the scenery. Old homes large and small…intact and destroyed…high and low.

Soon the bus stopped but my search for the “old town” began. Not on this street. Not on that street. I meandered through the market. Finally, I saw a street with old buildings knowing I hit the right street. I visited the museum where wood is carved for bread moldings. Cute and quick. I visited the samovar museum filled with large tea pots and a dead bear rug. Cute and quicker. I visited a home filled with costumes. Cute and quickest. The local tour groups interested me even more. The teenagers gawking at each other while tour guides implored them to be interested in the “cool” history while couples had to hold their hands no matter what. Me…I meandered.

It was my time to leave heading for the bus station. The station had only one open window. I assumed that was the one I had to buy tickets from. The sign said 15 minute break. 15 minutes passed…window still closed. 30 minutes passed…window still closed. Finally it opened. I watched the girls before me ask to buy tickets to N. Novgorod. The woman said something to make them turn around. I said the same destination to her only to have her yell at me. I stepped back gesturing and saying I didn’t know. All of a sudden the guy next to me said in clear English that the bus had not come yet. I thanked him in shock not expecting anyone to speak English at all. He and I talked about contacting 70 hotels in N. Novgorod because all of them were booked. DUH! It was a holiday weekend. He said he and his girlfriend almost had to sleep on the benches.

The bus came and so did the immediate line. I stood in my place, paid my ticket, and followed the girls who came before me to the minivan. I found my spot in the bus to face the front and woman sitting solidly in the front middle seat. I didn’t think anything of it until the bus driver entered. She immediately leaned over to him as tightly as possible allowing him to drive. Throughout the drive she would be “stuck” to him or would move to her seat for a “rest” to then move over to him once again being “stuck”. All the while, the girls I followed to the van sat in the back talking the WHOLE TIME. I had no idea what teenagers talk about for THREE SOLID HOURS! While this happened, an older man kept receiving phone calls from the people he was to meet. He was 40 km behind. He was 30 km behind. Two other passengers assisted him. He was close. He was closer. He was even closer. He was even even closer. They helped him stop the bus. They helped him close the door. All the while I am watching the soap opera of a lovelorn woman, gossipy girls, and a lost man. I didn’t need to watch TV. I need to be on more bus trips.

Dinner meant eating at the “Aquarium”. I entered the nonsmoking section to be confronted by a guitarist and singer. They sang one song to a group of people in another room. I loved her voice complimenting them when they returned to the room after their performance. They glowed with the conclusion of their first performance. The guitarist’s sister lives in Vermont…commonality. I encouraged them to continue. They shyly agreed. We chatted some more until they had to leave. I waved goodbye but they thought I was “high-fiving” them so they did as well. I laughed and cheered them on. My food came shortly thereafter to bring me to heaven. The scalloped potato covered in titillatingly smooth cheese combined with my pork also smothered with another type of cheese. I cannot tell you how many times I closed my eyes in pure eating pleasure. This was definitely one of THE BEST meals I have EVER had in Russia! I almost didn’t want to leave but for the fact that the waitress kept coming to me to pay the bill. At one time, I had to tell the waitress I was still eating their lovely lovely food. But for that fact, I would have stayed in the restaurant until midnight soaking in the meal.