The train left Novgorod at 7:30 AM, a local with no C Class (soft seats) cars, just metal bench seats. Sonya and Alex took us to the station, and this time Alex took all of the luggage and put it on the train as if the bags were balsa wood. (Apparently Sonya had given him the 'What-For'.) It was a slow-moving train, that stopped often, and passed through a very poor rural country-side.
Some of the country stations were just an uncovered platform, with one or two overhead lights, and a narrow dusty dirt road leading off into heavy forest -- not a building in sight anywhere. It reminded us of that long straight highway from Moscow to Vladimir, with the brightly-painted little cinder-block stops, and the
babuchkas walking toward them, carrying their 2 cloth shopping bags, and an expression on their tired faces that expressed doubt that the bus would ever come. Very Russian, no doubt.
At one of the stops, a large group of soldiers boarded the train; they were all quite young, in ill-firring olive fatigues, obviously conscripts. Some were leading huge red-brown Shepard dogs that were the size of small bears. Quite a contrast from the OMON troops patrolling Red Square and the Arbat -- tough grizzled veterans in grey-and-black urban fatigues and black berets.
After a few hours, we began to enter the outskirts of St. Petersburg. The city sprawled out much further than I expected, and was a lot more industrialized. Miles of factories and railyards and storage facilities. The train at last came to a stop under a long covered patform, with nothing in sight that spoke of the Classical beauty this 'Northern Capital' was famous for...
When we made our way to the car door, we saw a beautiful young girl dressed in red and black (to match her bright auburn hair) holding a sign with our names magically written on it. Our guide for next few days. Her name was Katya. And we were very glad to see her there. She took us out theough the crowded railstaion, and we found ourselves at an 18th Century plaza, marked behind us by the classic towers of the Moskovsky Station (where we had just arrived).
Another black sedan; this one a Ford Mondeo, with a veteran driver, this one also named Alex, awaited us. (I was reminded of Henry Ford's famous adage: "You can have any color you want, as long as it's black" -- but I don't recall him commenting on the drivers.) We igot in and mmediately headed for the Neva River and the Dvortsovy Most. No sooner had we arrived on the embankment across for the magnificent Winter Palace, and exited the car, then we were met with a tremendous cannon shot, and the strains of Tchaikovsky's
1812 Festival Overture. I just about jumped out of my shoes. and then the Neva exploded in sprays and jets of water. Katya's timing was impeccible. It was High Noon in St Petersburg.
It was a glorious sunny day that showed-off the classic beauty of St Petersburg. Here is the magnificent Hermitage Museum, with the sun sparkling on the Neva River.
Across the street was the KunsKamera, Peter's Museum of Natoral History; this 300 year building holds some grotesque biologocal oddities including two-headed lambs, unspeakable human parts and leprous babies, all sealed in liquid and glass jars; An example of Peter's omnivorous interest in modern science, and his efforts to drag Russia "kicking and screaming" into the the West. This and several other things, made some of the pious and old-fashioned Russians label him "The Anti-Christ".
In 1703, Peter the Great, having wrested the land from King Charles of Sweden, picked a point in the marshy wasteland near the confluence of the Neva River and the Bay of Finland. After 10 years of frantic forced building efforts, a new capital emerged there, named St Petersburg (nominally for the tsar's name-day saint, but known for 200 years as simply 'Petersburg'). From his travels and studies in Amsterdam and Venice, Peter conceived of a spectacular city, with dozens of canals, and hundreds of ornate bridges, with neo-classical buildings. (A few decades after that, Thomas Jefferson would create a new planned capital for a new America, on swampy wasteland near the confluence of the Potomac and Chesapeake Bay.) Today, after 10 years as Petrograd, and 67 years as Leningrad) , the city is once again St. Petersburg, a World Heritage site and the realized dream of Peter's 'Window To The West."
From our wonderful vantage point on the southern tip of Vassilesky Island, we could so many of the city's famous structures. Here is the Peter and Paul Fortress (where Peter's son Alexy was murdered and where Dostoevsky spent 9 months of solitary confinement.
Here is a view of the Rostral Column with the Concert Hall behind it, seen from the waterfront...
And here is detail of the Winter Palace, built for Peter's German granddaughter-in-law, Catherine the Great.
We were now back on the Petersburg side, continuing our tour. Next was the massive St Isaac's Cathedral. As you can see, there is a statue missing on the top left cornice; it was destroyed during the siege in WWII by German artillery. Some of the great columns are scarred from cannon fire during the Siege.
From St Isaac's Square, we visited the Field of Mars, a parade ground for the Military Institute on the opposite side...
In the center is the eternal flame in memory of the unknown soldier killed in war. (Similar to what we see at Arlington National Cemetery.
From here we returned to Vassilesky Island and took the wooden bridge to Rabbit Island and the Peter and Paul Fortress. There we passed through Peter's gate to see the interior of the Peter and Paul Cathedral.
The Cathedral is the oldest church in St Petersburg, begun in 1712 under the direction of Trezzini, an Italian architect (as were many of the public building's designers). From the outside, with its incredibly tall and narrow spire, it resembles a Protestant Church; inside it is all Catholic Baroque -- a most unusual church for Russia. Here is Peter's tomb in the very center of the church.
And here is a close-up of the iconostatsis, looking more like something from a basilica in Naples than a Russian Orthodox Cathedral. (After all, that is what Peter wanted)
For hundreds of years, tsars were crowned in this cathedral, and laid to rest here. This beautiful red Porphyry sarcophagus is the tomb of the Tsar Liberator, Alexander II...
But the most touching memorial is this side chapel where the last remains of the last Tsar and his entire family are laid to rest. The useless slaughter of the royal family those many years ago in Yekaterinenberg, punctuates all the atrocities of the Soviet era; the vases of flowers placed here make you realize that it has not been forgotten...
Outside, in the park, was an usual statue of Peter the Great, done a few years ago. Here is Katya sitting on his lap and holding his well-worn hands for good luck...
This picture, showing Phoebe also hoping for some good luck, gives you an idea of the bizarre proportions of the statue -- the enormous body, hands and feet, and the tiny head. As near as we can figure, the sculptor seems to be saying that to the Russian People, Peter was a great physical force, but a person who did not really think about the repercussions of his actions...
By now it was late afternoon, and we were quite worn-out. It had been a very full and wonderful day. The car picked us up abck on Vassilesky Island, and they drove us west along the riverfront to our accommodations at the Hotel Moskva across from the Alexander Nevsky Monastary.
Needless to say, we had no problem falling asleep, white nights or not.
