When I started my trip through Siberia in late September, it was roughly 40 degrees Fahrenheit out, frosting a little bit, but far from freezing. I was wearing gloves, a scarf, nylons under my pants, a mink fur hat, and at least two shirts under my leather jacket. My first naïve days on the Trans-Siberian Railway, I would ask locals if it would be getting colder soon; they would just look at me with the sternest blue eyes I had ever looked into and say, “Yes…you have no idea.”
Along my travels, it was always so funny to see people’s reactions to the statement, “It does not snow in the city where I live.” A conversation once arose that went something like this:
Siberian local: “How cold does it get in San Francisco?”
Erika: “Maybe about 10-15 degrees.” (roughly 50 degrees Fahrenheit)
Siberian local (incredulously): “Minus?”
Erika: “Dear Lord, no!! Positive…!”
Of coures, by the end of my trip, I would occassionaly leave the hostel without my nylons, and always without my hat. I guess a dead giveaway that I am not a Ukrainain local is to be wearing a Russian fur hat - go figure.
When I lived in San Francisco, I would throw on shorts, grab my parrot “Pearl” and run to Dolores Park if the fog had burned off and the sun was out. Of course, 65 degrees used to be hot weather for me. It is funny how our bodies get used to weather changes and climates over time.
Tomorrow, we are going tubing down a river with laundry bags full of beer and I was concerned about the weather conditions. It poured like the sky was going to fall yesterday, and although it has since cleared up, I decided to check the weather to be safe. My initial thought was, “84 degrees?!?! Really?? It’s going to be too cold to get into water and go tubing.” I am a spoiled little Texan now. I was ready to soak up the 100 degree rays tomorrow, but will have to settle for 84. Probably better this way, as I really am not in the market for Melanoma.
Along my travels, it was always so funny to see people’s reactions to the statement, “It does not snow in the city where I live.” A conversation once arose that went something like this:
Siberian local: “How cold does it get in San Francisco?”
Erika: “Maybe about 10-15 degrees.” (roughly 50 degrees Fahrenheit)
Siberian local (incredulously): “Minus?”
Erika: “Dear Lord, no!! Positive…!”
Of coures, by the end of my trip, I would occassionaly leave the hostel without my nylons, and always without my hat. I guess a dead giveaway that I am not a Ukrainain local is to be wearing a Russian fur hat - go figure.
When I lived in San Francisco, I would throw on shorts, grab my parrot “Pearl” and run to Dolores Park if the fog had burned off and the sun was out. Of course, 65 degrees used to be hot weather for me. It is funny how our bodies get used to weather changes and climates over time.
Tomorrow, we are going tubing down a river with laundry bags full of beer and I was concerned about the weather conditions. It poured like the sky was going to fall yesterday, and although it has since cleared up, I decided to check the weather to be safe. My initial thought was, “84 degrees?!?! Really?? It’s going to be too cold to get into water and go tubing.” I am a spoiled little Texan now. I was ready to soak up the 100 degree rays tomorrow, but will have to settle for 84. Probably better this way, as I really am not in the market for Melanoma.
