ST PETERSBURG

At last, after all these years I have touched the soil of Mother Russia. It hasn’t been for want of trying, but every time we tried to make a plan to visit the USSR or Russia we were thwarted. The first occasion was when we were still living in Zimbabwe in the 80s. We were about to apply for visas from the Intourist office in London (the nearest office) when some kind of diplomatic row broke out between the Brits and the Soviets resulting in the expulsion of ‘spies’ from both countries, including all the Intourist staff. So no visas for six months, by which time my opportunity had passed. It is still essential to apply for visas, unless you are visiting with a group, as we were today.

Well, we lost another hour’s sleep last night as we put our clocks forward again – the third time this voyage, which must have created a short night for those off early on their Russian tours. This included our neighbours who tend to be a little noisy when they wake up – TV on, drawers slamming, talking and laughing loudly – and Rab swears she has heard them snore when she has woken in the middle of the night. The morning noises don’t last long and then all is quiet – but the strange thing is that we’ve never clapped eyes on them – or indeed on the neighbours on the other side of us or those opposite. All part of the cruising experience!

There were many tours on offer including the Hermitage and several of the Palaces. Friends and family were appalled when we told them we wouldn’t be going on these. How could we be in St Petersburg and NOT go to the Hermitage, the finest museum in the world. Well…..for a start we’re not all Museum People in our current touring party, as I may have mentioned before, but more importantly these were long tours with a good deal of walking and standing – people going on the Hermitage tour were told that they could expect to queue for up to 45 minutes to get through immigration here at the docks, to queue for between 45 and sixty minutes to get into the Hermitage and that the tour of the building would be about four and a half hours, with no sitting at any time. All too much for our old joints and my feet.

The tour we chose initially included a visit to the Church of The Spilled Blood, built on the site where one of the tsars was assassinated (was it Nicholas II or Alexander II ? – very confusing these old tsars) and an hour’s shopping in the main street, Nevsky Prospect. That seemed to us to be an ideal balance between a bit of history and a bit of shopping – Rab’s main reason for travelling. But it was not to be. We got the message yesterday afternoon that the Russians had declined to open the church because there were only 25 of us on the tour and they needed a minimum of 100. As Michael, our guide said today (on more than one occasion “de-der The Church is very greedy, de-der” The ‘de-der’ being said very quickly - a charming little speech defect that he had. We got used to it fairly quickly but it was a little amusing at first. He was a lovely bloke with a somewhat unfortunate second name – Fokin, but he was a very good guide. So we got our money back for that and elected for another tour Highlights of St Petersburg – mainly staying in the coach.

The tour had a late start, so we just took it easy this morning relaxing to make up for the missed hour’s sleep, a leisurely breakfast, did a bit of washing of smalls and read in the lounge until it was time to assemble – 12.15 for a 13.00 departure. We were still standing around at 12.45 because only one Immigration officer was on duty instead of the eight required to process us all. Presumably they were at lunch but they finally turned up and we were on our way. As is the case with many people in Russia, there are no smiles – especially from these officials. Just a blank stare. I couldn’t work out why there were mirrors at a 45 degree angle opposite each high station where the officials sat. But then I realised it was so they could see what we were carrying. It was also useful in the case of one diminutive old lady whose face could not be seen over the counter. She was asked to turn and look into the mirror. It was strange to see them actually stamp our passports – we are using our British ones for this leg of the trip. We are so used to European countries not bothering to stamp us in and out that it is quite odd to see these blots on otherwise clear documents.

As I say, Michael was an excellent guide, full of knowledge and with a great command of English, although it was amusing to hear some of his usages that were NQR – not quite right or just plain amusing. For example he referred to what we might call dormitory suburbs as ‘sleeping zones’ and he continued to refer to ‘fat cats’ in the context of our wealthy rulers, for whom he had very little time. The first time he used the phrase was when we were passing the Astoria Hotel. He said all the big cheeses including Bush had stayed there. Pretty Ellen in Warnemunde also had a charming slight mistranslation when she referred to beach boxes as ‘wardrobe houses’. Mind you I’m not knocking them, as an English speaker I am as useless as most as far as foreign tongues are concerned.

It was blowing great guns as we left the ship with squalls of rain – and a little hail from time to time, as it had been for most of the morning – so we were glad we weren’t doing a walking tour. This weather didn’t auger well for our tour and indeed the early part made for very difficult viewing from the coach. But at our first stop – St Isaac’s Cathedral – the sun came out and although the wind was still bitter, there was more sun and less cloud as the afternoon went on. By the time we made our last call – at the Church of The Spilled Blood (which was indeed closed) the cupolas shone and glistered in the brilliant light of the afternoon sun. What an incredible building it is. I would have really liked to see the interior, but that’s the way things go. Incidentally I see that St Isaac was a Dalmatian – those darn dogs come back time and again.

There were several photo opportunity stops during the afternoon before the final one at the church and we got good views of the best parts of the city. It is indeed a wonderful city and thoroughly deserves the title of The Venice of The North, awarded to it by Peter The Great apparently. Many of the original canals have been filled in and are now broad avenues, but there is still plenty of water around and the buildings on the banks of the waterways are truly magnificent in their majesty and dignity. Our personal views is that it is superior to Venice, with much wider vistas and more consistently gracious buildings.

We were surprised to see so many flags – and such a variety – flying over many buildings. The Russian flag was to be expected but there was a plethora of others, some of which were very similar, or even identical to other, netter known ones. There was for example one building flying the Scottish flag – the Cross of St Andrew, while the Naval flag, flying on the Fortress of St Peter and Paul and the mighty Aurora looked very like a British flag at first glance. The Aurora is in very good condition, with it’s forward gun still pointing towards the Winter palace, ready to start another Revolution if necessary.

It seems that Wednesday is a big day for weddings – we saw brides all over the place, like fleas on a dog’s back. Most of them were in stretch limos, including a couple of stretch Hummers. Early on the poor girls were being photographed in the parks under umbrellas as the rain came down – those who married late in the day were luckier. Michael said that although all marriages had to be registered at the main office, church weddings were becoming more and more popular, although he felt that this was more a matter of fashion than de-der faith de-der. I noticed that on one charming small bridge there were thousands of padlocks fixed to the railings and lampposts. Apparently it is a local custom for brides and grooms to put these locks here to signify the permanency of their relationship. It wasn’t clear if they were removed in the event of a separation.

Michael advised us to ignore all the pedlars at the stops as we were going to be given a chance to shop at a ‘big mall’ where the prices would be fair and the quality so much better. We still don’t know if he was saying this tongue in cheek or if he did believe that the small shop at which we stopped could be called a mall, but it certainly wasn’t. We did pick up a couple of small items, as did several other people so I guess he would have earned his commission. There was a lovely little park opposite the ‘mall’ and I wandered through there looking for photo opportunities. The trees are all turning gold and the dappled effect was very pretty. A dozen or so pupils were having a painting lesson, scattered around the park, each taking a different view. I also managed to decipher my first bit of Cyrillic alphabetic signage – PECPOH. This appeared everywhere and I finally twigged that it was RESRON, or as we might say restaurant.

All in all we had a lovely afternoon, despite some hair raising driving – it was quite astonishing how a vehicle as big as our coach could fit through some narrow gaps in the traffic – talk about camels and eyes of needles! Although it was said that there were terrific traffic jams kin the city, we went fairly smoothly, although the three accidents, we saw did hold up the traffic somewhat. Michael said de-der that wealthy people only had to pay the right person de-der to get a licence so it was hardly surprising that there were accidents de-der. It was good to get back home to our cabin though and to have an early night after an early dinner – there were no set dining hours tonight as some of the folk had elected to go to the ballet and others to the folkloric dancing. We GAIN the lost hour’s sleep tonight, so should be in good nick for Helsinki tomorrow.