The Hermitage, St. Petersburg continued
Saturday, 17 July
The day was mainly dedicated to the Hermitage, a world renowned museum/gallery housed in the over-luxurious Winter palace, one of the former homes of the royal family. Naturally it was also the first place Lenin and the Bolysheviks attacked at the beginning of their October revolution from a ship on the Neva river which flows just beside the palace.
While I am no proponent of the destruction of cultural heritage, I must say it soon became quite clear to me why this was the best place to start the revolution. All its humongous splendor and wealth was the symbol of what the nobility were enjoying while the population was left to suffer in horrendous poverty.
The wealth really is mind boggling. Every room is covered wall to wall in detailed ornaments of marble, wood, precious metals and stones, all shaped up by the top artisans of the era. As for size, it took us 6 hours just to pass by all the exhibits on the three floors and we weren’t by far the most inquisitive of visitors, focusing mainly on some areas that were of more interest to us.
Most of the exhibits could as well be titled: “Look at what we were able to steal throughout the centuries”. Beside some pots and prehistoric tools from Syberia, the 1st floor mainly consists of aincent Greek and Egyptian monuments, a lot of them. Perhaps more than in some museums in their countries of origin. 2nd and 3rd floor contain newer art from various European nations. Italian reinessance, baroque, Dutch and French painters, whatever you ask for. There’s such an embarrasment of riches that a Monet is stuck in a connecting corridor and Da Vinci’s Madonna With Child only grabs your attention if you know where to look. There was also a visiting Picasso exhibition an some other, more modern artists.
Russian artists are quite neglected, perhaps a tribute to the “wannabeism” of Russian nobility in the past centuries.
The administration is quite liberal with photo taking, more so than practically any other European art museum. Apart from some visiting exhibitions you can take a photo of pretty much everything.
Jasmina and Maja quite liked the idea of living in such a luxurious palace with all the spaciousness and glamor. I for one more marvelled at the possibilty to rollerblade through it. At the end we all agreed that a billiard room with human sized and half transparent billiard balls was an appropriate choice for such a palace. People would go inside the billiard balls and try to knock each other out to the holed corner o the room. The unusually large gutters outside the palace were an indication that perhaps someone else had thought of this before.
Thoroughly tired from the six hour walk, we gathered our last atoms of strength and headed over the Neva to Vasilevsky island. What immediately caught our eyes were a bunch of wedding photo-ops along with the traditional release of the white doves. Perhaps an even more amazing site was the trash container nearby. I’ve never seen one so full of empty champagne bottles.
What followed was a well deserved break on the embankments of Vasilevsky island, accompanied by some Baltika brew and overlooking the Winter palace accross the river. I’m writing this blog post on just such a break, but this time bathed in evening sun next to the Yekaterinburg pond.
We were quite taken aback then by a young man washing his face in the filthy waters of Neva. What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger, I guess.
After dinner it was time to return to the hostel, get our backpacks and catch a train to Moscow. We got to the Moskovskii vokzal (train station) by metro, which is surprisingly deep. About 20 meters by my amateurish estimates, probably due to the marshy and watter filled lands of Petersburg.
We caught the train literally in the last second. We weren’t that late at the station, but when the platform is divided into 5 left and 5 right with very similar markings in cyrilic, some confusion is bound to happen. The train ride was surprisingly luxurious, with an air-conditioned coupe, slippers, lunch packet and morning sandwhiches, at least they somehow justified the otherwise steep 4700 rub (125€) price. In the morning we were well rested and in Moscow.
Battles, Buses and Bikes, St. Petersburg continued
The battle raged. Cries of war resounded into the night as the buzzing tension built up to a crescendo. There was no way back, nor a way out. They attacked and we were obliged to defend. Their blood spilling incursions put us in a corner of no choice and no remorse. Chemichal weapons had to be used. Extreme measure by all accounts, yet they only delayed the inevitable. As morning rose we were left faced with the damage inflicted by their venomous stings. The mosquitoes were gone, but the itching remained.
I’m a drama llama, I know. It was actually only a mild annoyance in retrospect but it didn’t seem that way at the time. Other nights they left us alone since we mostly came back later when they had already fed from the other inhabitants of our dorm.
Friday, 16th of July. We got up pretty late, had some Solyanka (meaty soup, mishmash of everything) and pie and did some quick morning gymnastics in front of the Winter palace. The weather soon turned sour, which was really a blessing in disguise, since it saved us from the humid heat and left us with a much more tolerable humidity falling from the sky.
We started our sightseeing by visiting St. Isaac’s chatedral. The walkway around the dome on top of it offers an unique vantage point over St. Petersburg. Other such opportunities are rare, due to the city’s former strict building rules. No building was supposed to be taller than the Winter palace, with the obvious exception of churches. Evidentally you need to be pretty high up (or high) to get good reception when talking to god. One other such notable restriction was the obligation to build and stitch the buildings up together so the only roads separating them would be the broad boulevards planned in advance. The city’s character wouldn’t be the same without it.
After the cathedral we strolled along one of the water canals to the area known as New Holland. Norman Foster and his architectural bureau Foster & Partners, which I greatly admire, were building a new urban area there and according to Lonely Planet were supposed to finish up sometime in 2010. We were somewhat disappointed as the construction only seemed to have started recently and was nowhere near the 31. 8. deadline propagated on the entrance. Another visit is due I guess, the place certainly looks promising.
Petersburg, along with Moscow is supposed to be one of the most expensive places in Russia if not the world, but when eating out, prices seem to be quite comparable to the ones in Slovenia. While avoiding the most expensive eateries we usually got lunch & drink for around 300 roubles (1€ is cca. 40 rub).
Another commodity besides food, withouth which a modern traveller can hardly get by is internet. Mobile internet if chance be, so our smartphones aren’t reduced to being dumbphones and you, dear reader, can read this blog written and published on just such a device.
That’s why we acquired local SIM cards at Megafon, local mobile operator and one of the rare ones (apart from MTS) with coverage accross the country. With the prepaid card the deal is pretty fair, 1MB of data costs 1 rouble, SMS is 5 rub and local calls a similar figure not worth mentioning, or remembering, it seems. Besides, the 99 rub you pay for the SIM is already added to your account. The salesguy was really nice and even spoke a few words of English, the latter being quite a rarity.
Next, Church of the Saviour of the spilled blood, a name that instantly brought to mind the mosquito battle scenes of the prevoius night. The church is almost the spitting image of the St. Basil cathedral in Moscow’s Red Square. Yes, the red one with many colorful domes that looks more like something out of a fairytale or really juicy candy, than an institution providing the opiate for the masses. Inside, every centimeter is covered by intricate and recently restored mosaics depicting the life of JC and his apostoles. There is even an ATM inside the church if the need for cash arises, an idea our clergy would no doubt admire.
Another idea which could much more deservedly be implemented elsewhere is the Toilet bus. Not much explanation necessary, it’s an autobus containing nothing but proper toilets. Drive to location, plug in the sewer and water pipes, exercate at will. Worthless without photos, I know.
What was left of our incredibly well lit night we spent exploring the local bar scene. Pretty good, though somewhat expensive and not really that special. A notable mention would certainly go to the widespread availability of Hoegaarden, a Belgian beer and among my favourites, but rare to come by in Slovenia. We met some locals wanting to chat, but the language divide soon proved to be an insurmountable barrier only accentuaded by their inebriation. Or of I lose the posh talk: They were a bit drunk and couldn’t really speak English well.
On our way back to the hostel we came across a sports shop open at 4 in the morning. Naturally we decided that was just the right time to buy a bike…
Russia, the Beginnings of Sankt Petersburg
Who: Me and my friends Jasmina and Maja, backpacking.
Where: Starting in Sankt Petersburg, then traveling by train through Moscow, then taking the Trans-Siberian railway to Mongolia and later Beijing, China.
When: Started on 15th July 2010, planned flight back from Beijing on the 25th of August, same year – hopefully a different mindset.
Well, now that you know the jist of our plans I can start unraveling the story of our adventures in a bit more literary manner. We have subtitled the trip as “Pustolovščine Pikija in muc” as a friend of ours jokingly reffered to it, non-Slovenian readers and metaphore seekers fear not, you’re not missing much but an opportunity for some oversugared nicknimes. But I digress…
The first leg of our journey started by flying from Ljubljana to Prague, in a propeller plane of all things, and then switching to a flight to Sankt Petersburg the same morning. Apart from some partly early beer inspired tomfoolery and forming of internal jokes it was largely uneventful. For those considering a similar trip, the flight from Ljubljana to Sankt Petersburg via Prague cost 218 € including a quite generous student discount from Czech Airlines.
The Pulkovo airport in St. Petersburg still has quite a socialist feel to it, mostly due to architecture, but also due to proverbially unenthusiastic customs officers and the usability nightmare of the immigration form. First they don’t tell you that the form exists and that it’s required before you reach the end of the line, then you have to fill it out and start all over again. Naturally the spaces for writing are so small a clock maker would suffer a nervous breakdown before filling them out. To add insult to injury, you have to put down the same data twice. Luckily, it seems, I am quite a stoic clock maker. Rant over.
On the bright side, the minibus AKA Miško, going our way was just around the corner and we were on route to our hostel before you could say: “Is the weather causing all the hotness or are the ladies here quite dazzling?”
At the Crazy Duck hostel (which is nowhere near where the Lonely Planet says it is) we were welcomed by an incredibly spacious dorm room right in the centre of the city. After a much needed shower, what followed of course was a stroll around Piter, as the locals affectionately call their city. It has a really nice vibe to it with well planned, spacious streets, water canals, illustrious churches and islands. The city was started in 1703 by Peter the Great as a part of his effort to modernise and Europenise the country which really shows. In the beginning it was largely built by Swedish prisoners of war which might explain the prevalence of Ikea furniture.
We marvelled at the architectural wonders, sat down for a beer next to the Winter palace (The Hermitage) and later for a refreshing bowl of cold Borsch. Tired from a full day of travel we half-dragged ourselves back to our hostel, somewhat time confused since there was still daylight at 23.30.
The game was afoot, the plains of Russia laid bare before us.
I’ll try to update the post with more photosh when I get the opportunity to upload them from my camera. Since I’m a few days behind reality with my blogging I’ll catch up later on the train.
Maja and Jasmina in front of our small propeller plane.
Sometimes even an airline passanger must adopt the heat preservation techniques of homeless people.
This is how light it is in Piter at midnight.