Portage needs to get registered. Just so that the Russian government knows she is really here. Or knows she is real. Or knows that she will jump through hoops of red tape just to be here. Something like that.
When we tried to register in Petersburg, the address given by the official website turned out to be a ver dodgy joint hidden in a courtyard, blocked from the street by an arch, and without a number or sign on the door. (fun fact: you can get your visa registered and buy crack cocaine in one convenient stop!)
We were really proud to finally find it, but as it turns out, that particular office doesn't register foreign passports. We never did find the right place.
So, using the "three business days in a given city" rule, we figured it would be okay to register her in Moscow. Which she went to do today with my frind Vicky, who has much better Russian than I do.
I just got a call from her. They closed the office three hours early. Because....just because.
Welcome Portage. Welcome.
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