Sleepless in St. Petersburg

It's 3:00am and both Matt and I are awake. It's no wonder: there are endless groups of young people hanging out on the street, drinking beer and making a lot of noise. As there's no air conditioning in our apartment, we have no choice but to sleep with the widows thrown open. It's not fully dark out, more like dusk. Yes, that's right, it's White Nights season. Tomorrow night is the shortest night of the year here, barely getting dark for four hours (approximately from midnight to 4am).

Some say it's a poetic, mystical, or romantic to stroll along the canals, watching the bridges go up. For tourists, and graduating high school students all dolled up like prom night, this week is party week. Forgive me for my cynicism (maybe it's just the hour), but having lived here, I find the White Nights mostly a disturbance to my sleep. I can envision a perfect marketing opportunity for Ambien: sponsoring a White Nights festival.

Last night, I was awoken at 4am. We had accidentally left a small sliver of our curtains open, and as the sun blasted its early morning rays into our bedroom, the bright light reflected off the mirror and right into my eyes. As nice as it is to enjoy dinner out at a swanky Georgian place with friends and then stroll home in bright daylight at 11pm, I would appreciate a good night's rest.