Make Russia Worth Your Rubles
A country that is ever changing, Russia presents travelers with fascinating historical sites and cultural attractions. Unfortunately, it also presents some quirky rules and regulations that, if not followed to an exact crossed t and dotted i, can make pre-trip planning an absolute nightmare. Hopefully what I learned from my mistakes will help you land in Russia much more smoothly.
After embarking on a 7-month zigzag journey through Asia, my husband and I decided we would complete our self-guided tour with a ride on the Trans-Mongolian railway, ending in Moscow and from there returning home to the States. Without further ado, I booked the cheapest online tickets I could find from Moscow to New York City, and we put the rest of our planning on the back burner.
Fast-forward four months. We were now in Hanoi, Vietnam, and figured we should apply for our Russian visas. Easier said than done. As the woman at the embassy informed us, a Russian tourist visa requires not only an application and hefty fee, but also a detailed itinerary with an invitation from a host (often a tour company), along with vouchers from both the transportation company (railway or airline) and the hotels where reservations must have already been made – for every night spent in the country. Oh, and these vouchers cannot be e-mailed or faxed but must be original documents.
“Just pay them to send the vouchers through DHL,” she told us, not recognizing that this wasn’t so easy for travelers on the road. Typical of most backpackers, we weren’t sure where we would be sleeping the next night, much less the 14 nights we’d spend in Russia three months later.
Next step: the Internet café. After hours of surfing, we concluded that trying to purchase a Russian train ticket on our own was painfully difficult and that if we were going to use an agent to procure our seats, we might as well use the same agent to book our lodging. We would spend more money in the long run, but the saved hours of anxiety would be well worth the extra dollars.
Finding an agent with reasonable package rates proved more difficult than anticipated, and negotiating a package even remotely close to our budget range involved several teeth-clenching e-mail exchanges and phone calls to Moscow. Eventually, we agreed to a proposal and wire-transferred the money to the Russian agency. With a sigh of relief, I figured the greatest hurdle had been cleared. Little did I know what would transpire over the next 6 weeks.
An e-mail came while we were in China, and our Russian travel agent assured us that the attached PDF files would be sufficient vouchers and invitation to present with our visa applications. Color printouts and painstakingly completed application forms in hand, we headed to the Russian embassy in Beijing, feeling eager and enthusiastic. Upon arrival, we discovered a notice on the door informing us that, as of April 12, 2004, the Russian embassy in Beijing no longer processes tourist visa applications for non-residents of China.
Flabbergasted, my husband approached the desk. “We’re American citizens, and the embassy in Vietnam told us we could apply for our visas here.”
“Only Chinese residents,” came the curt reply.
Frustrated, we attempted to glean a bit more information. “Can we get the visas in Ulaan Baatar (Mongolia)?”
“No.” That was that.
“Ma’am,” my husband pleaded, “we have a bit of a problem here. We leave for Mongolia next week, and from there we take a train to Russia. Where can we get our visas?”
“In your home country.” Her eyes remained glued to the paperwork in front of her, silently communicating that she was through talking to us. How could we explain that in order to get to our country we needed to get to Moscow first? Exasperated, we left the embassy and returned to our seemingly second home, the Internet café.
“Dear Mila. . .” began the umpteenth e-mail to our Muscovian travel agent.
The next day we received a reply that renewed our hope. Another American couple, currently in Ulaan Baatar, had experienced the same problems in Beijing, but we were all promised that a partner agency in Mongolia would assist us with the visas. No need to worry.
Once we arrived in Mongolia, our first task was visiting the partner travel agency for visa assistance. We learned that the type of voucher Mila had sent us from Moscow was not acceptable at Ulaan Baatar’s Russian embassy. The other American couple had had a horrendous time obtaining their visas, and only after many hassles and $700 were they finally on their way to Russia. I reminded myself to take deep breaths.
Told that we were welcome to try on our own, and determined to triumph over these obstacles, we went straight to the embassy. Upon arrival, we were informed that visa applications for foreigners were accepted only between 1:00 and 2:00 PM. We returned a few hours later.
When traveling, you meet friends in the darnedest ways. Over the next three days, we developed a whole new contingent of companions as all of us commiserated together in line at the embassy. Typically, the application probers don’t truly open the door until at least 1:07, stealing away 7 minutes of precious time from those of us who’d blocked out the middle of our day to beg their mercy. Usually other employees also distract them with unrelated concerns, and applicants stand in feigned patience, watching the clock tick away more of that sacred hour.
The first day, we were called in just before 2:00.
“What is this? You are American citizens? I’m sorry; this is the wrong application. You will have to come back tomorrow. Next!” The receptionist had failed to ask our citizenship when she handed us the applications. Who knew Americans needed a different form?
At this point, we decided not even to deal with the aggravation of obtaining correct vouchers. Our initial impressions of Russia had gone quickly downhill, based on the treatment we received from these government officials, and we decided to spend our extra time enjoying more of Mongolia instead. Now we just needed a transit visa, which would allow us up to 48 hours in Moscow before our flight left for New York. We’d heard these were much easier to obtain than long-term tourist visas.
Day Two proceeded in much the same way. We greeted our new friends outside the gate 30 minutes early to ensure we were near the front of the line. Here we waited to be buzzed in to the building around 1:00. This time only 6 applicants made it through the line within the hour’s time, and we were among the lucky ones.
A couple ahead of us came out with triumphant looks on their faces, and we silently cheered for them – no noise, though, for fear of upsetting the man behind the desk. Sobriety and extreme politeness are keys to success at this game. (I have an odd feeling a $50 bill might work as well.) Unfortunately, the rest of us were unsuccessful this time around. In our case, we needed a more “official” receipt of reservation for the plane that would take us out of Moscow.
“Don’t worry,” I thought to myself. “I’ll be out of there with no hesitation if this is what that place is like!”
The old adage says, “Three strikes, you’re out!” Fortunately, we didn’t have to suffer this shame on our third day, as we managed to plead enough that the stone-faced militant behind the desk gave in and sent us to the cashier to pay the visa fee.
We lost a lot of money when we cancelled our train and hotel reservations with the travel agency in Moscow, but more disappointingly, we lost a lot of faith in Russian tourism. Never in our travels had we felt so unwelcome and unwanted by a country than we did during our experiences with the Russian government. Thankfully, though, we obtained the visas and did indeed fly to Russia as planned.
Moscow is a beautiful city that deserves far more than the 40 hours we were able to spend. And, despite all of my headaches in trying to get there, I know I will return again to spend more time in this fascinating country. With my newfound understanding of the system, next time I will undoubtedly use a respectable agent and plan my Russian travels from home, far in advance.
Evidently, the process is much simpler when undergone in your own country. For travelers who have no choice but to obtain their visas while away from home, my best recommendation is to start early, allowing time to fix any problems that may arise. Choose a respectable agent who can provide you with the correct documents the first time around – it’s worth the extra money you might spend. Most of all, focus on the details. Cross those t’s and dot those i's. Once you arrive, Russia is definitely worth your rubles. It just may take a little extra patience to get there.
After embarking on a 7-month zigzag journey through Asia, my husband and I decided we would complete our self-guided tour with a ride on the Trans-Mongolian railway, ending in Moscow and from there returning home to the States. Without further ado, I booked the cheapest online tickets I could find from Moscow to New York City, and we put the rest of our planning on the back burner.
Fast-forward four months. We were now in Hanoi, Vietnam, and figured we should apply for our Russian visas. Easier said than done. As the woman at the embassy informed us, a Russian tourist visa requires not only an application and hefty fee, but also a detailed itinerary with an invitation from a host (often a tour company), along with vouchers from both the transportation company (railway or airline) and the hotels where reservations must have already been made – for every night spent in the country. Oh, and these vouchers cannot be e-mailed or faxed but must be original documents.
“Just pay them to send the vouchers through DHL,” she told us, not recognizing that this wasn’t so easy for travelers on the road. Typical of most backpackers, we weren’t sure where we would be sleeping the next night, much less the 14 nights we’d spend in Russia three months later.
Next step: the Internet café. After hours of surfing, we concluded that trying to purchase a Russian train ticket on our own was painfully difficult and that if we were going to use an agent to procure our seats, we might as well use the same agent to book our lodging. We would spend more money in the long run, but the saved hours of anxiety would be well worth the extra dollars.
Finding an agent with reasonable package rates proved more difficult than anticipated, and negotiating a package even remotely close to our budget range involved several teeth-clenching e-mail exchanges and phone calls to Moscow. Eventually, we agreed to a proposal and wire-transferred the money to the Russian agency. With a sigh of relief, I figured the greatest hurdle had been cleared. Little did I know what would transpire over the next 6 weeks.
An e-mail came while we were in China, and our Russian travel agent assured us that the attached PDF files would be sufficient vouchers and invitation to present with our visa applications. Color printouts and painstakingly completed application forms in hand, we headed to the Russian embassy in Beijing, feeling eager and enthusiastic. Upon arrival, we discovered a notice on the door informing us that, as of April 12, 2004, the Russian embassy in Beijing no longer processes tourist visa applications for non-residents of China.
Flabbergasted, my husband approached the desk. “We’re American citizens, and the embassy in Vietnam told us we could apply for our visas here.”
“Only Chinese residents,” came the curt reply.
Frustrated, we attempted to glean a bit more information. “Can we get the visas in Ulaan Baatar (Mongolia)?”
“No.” That was that.
“Ma’am,” my husband pleaded, “we have a bit of a problem here. We leave for Mongolia next week, and from there we take a train to Russia. Where can we get our visas?”
“In your home country.” Her eyes remained glued to the paperwork in front of her, silently communicating that she was through talking to us. How could we explain that in order to get to our country we needed to get to Moscow first? Exasperated, we left the embassy and returned to our seemingly second home, the Internet café.
“Dear Mila. . .” began the umpteenth e-mail to our Muscovian travel agent.
The next day we received a reply that renewed our hope. Another American couple, currently in Ulaan Baatar, had experienced the same problems in Beijing, but we were all promised that a partner agency in Mongolia would assist us with the visas. No need to worry.
Once we arrived in Mongolia, our first task was visiting the partner travel agency for visa assistance. We learned that the type of voucher Mila had sent us from Moscow was not acceptable at Ulaan Baatar’s Russian embassy. The other American couple had had a horrendous time obtaining their visas, and only after many hassles and $700 were they finally on their way to Russia. I reminded myself to take deep breaths.
Told that we were welcome to try on our own, and determined to triumph over these obstacles, we went straight to the embassy. Upon arrival, we were informed that visa applications for foreigners were accepted only between 1:00 and 2:00 PM. We returned a few hours later.
When traveling, you meet friends in the darnedest ways. Over the next three days, we developed a whole new contingent of companions as all of us commiserated together in line at the embassy. Typically, the application probers don’t truly open the door until at least 1:07, stealing away 7 minutes of precious time from those of us who’d blocked out the middle of our day to beg their mercy. Usually other employees also distract them with unrelated concerns, and applicants stand in feigned patience, watching the clock tick away more of that sacred hour.
The first day, we were called in just before 2:00.
“What is this? You are American citizens? I’m sorry; this is the wrong application. You will have to come back tomorrow. Next!” The receptionist had failed to ask our citizenship when she handed us the applications. Who knew Americans needed a different form?
At this point, we decided not even to deal with the aggravation of obtaining correct vouchers. Our initial impressions of Russia had gone quickly downhill, based on the treatment we received from these government officials, and we decided to spend our extra time enjoying more of Mongolia instead. Now we just needed a transit visa, which would allow us up to 48 hours in Moscow before our flight left for New York. We’d heard these were much easier to obtain than long-term tourist visas.
Day Two proceeded in much the same way. We greeted our new friends outside the gate 30 minutes early to ensure we were near the front of the line. Here we waited to be buzzed in to the building around 1:00. This time only 6 applicants made it through the line within the hour’s time, and we were among the lucky ones.
A couple ahead of us came out with triumphant looks on their faces, and we silently cheered for them – no noise, though, for fear of upsetting the man behind the desk. Sobriety and extreme politeness are keys to success at this game. (I have an odd feeling a $50 bill might work as well.) Unfortunately, the rest of us were unsuccessful this time around. In our case, we needed a more “official” receipt of reservation for the plane that would take us out of Moscow.
“Don’t worry,” I thought to myself. “I’ll be out of there with no hesitation if this is what that place is like!”
The old adage says, “Three strikes, you’re out!” Fortunately, we didn’t have to suffer this shame on our third day, as we managed to plead enough that the stone-faced militant behind the desk gave in and sent us to the cashier to pay the visa fee.
We lost a lot of money when we cancelled our train and hotel reservations with the travel agency in Moscow, but more disappointingly, we lost a lot of faith in Russian tourism. Never in our travels had we felt so unwelcome and unwanted by a country than we did during our experiences with the Russian government. Thankfully, though, we obtained the visas and did indeed fly to Russia as planned.
Moscow is a beautiful city that deserves far more than the 40 hours we were able to spend. And, despite all of my headaches in trying to get there, I know I will return again to spend more time in this fascinating country. With my newfound understanding of the system, next time I will undoubtedly use a respectable agent and plan my Russian travels from home, far in advance.
Evidently, the process is much simpler when undergone in your own country. For travelers who have no choice but to obtain their visas while away from home, my best recommendation is to start early, allowing time to fix any problems that may arise. Choose a respectable agent who can provide you with the correct documents the first time around – it’s worth the extra money you might spend. Most of all, focus on the details. Cross those t’s and dot those i's. Once you arrive, Russia is definitely worth your rubles. It just may take a little extra patience to get there.
posted by Allyn Evans at 10:34 PM
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