St Petersburg (Day 1)

We are delayed leaving the ship by the local immigration officers. When we do disembark, we discover there is second cruise ship behind us and they have just managed to go get off before us. At the bottom of the gangplank we are welcomed to Russia by a local brass band. I give them a few euros as that’s the only change I have at the moment. I can forgive the immigration officers anything today because, for the first time ever, I have just had my passport stamped! That’s the first time in sixteen years of travelling!

We are loaded up into coaches (six in total for the Peterhof trip) and head off through the grim suburbs of St Petersburg, into the countryside. Along the way our guide tells us that we are travelling along the World War Two front line. In amongst the Soviet apartment buildings are grand classical temples. These are not religious buildings, but in fact metro stations.

Like so many churches, it was poorly treated by the Soviets who used it rather unceremoniously as a potato store

We arrive at the Peterhof palace late and find to our horror that so are all the other coach tours. It looks like passport control decided to do us all at the same time, rather than when we were scheduled to disembark. As we head towards the palace our guide, Kate, asks us to ignore the market stalls outside. She is keen to get us in as fast as possible and doesn’t want to waste time marshalling us through a shopping frenzy. As we round the final corner we find ourselves joining an enormous queue. There’s clearly no point getting hot and bothered about it, we simply have to wait. Luckily I’ve brought my sun hat as the weather is fantastic.

As we wait, somebody spots a little furry animal running along the side of the palace. It’s a bit of a shock because when I look it turns out to be a mink. He must be brave or stupid, because this fur loving country is probably not the best place to be scurrying around in public! In fact some of his relatives are currently on sale in front of the palace.

After about an hour we finally enter the palace. When I look round behind our group, there’s no one behind us. We really are the last group to enter. Inside we have to put rather fetching slippers over the top of our shoes. These are to protect the parquet flooring but I wonder if it’s actually to help them polish it. We also get our first impression of Russian women. They are definitely not to be trifled with! A woman pushes past us and our guide says something to her. Big mistake as she obviously works here and an interesting exchange takes place between them (several times!).

The wait may have been long but it is definitely worth it. It is a beautiful, extravagant palace. However don’t be fooled, much of Peterhof was destroyed during WW2 by Germans, who set light to it as they retreated. We actually see photographs of the empty shell that remained. Almost everything we see today has been painstakingly reconstructed. An impressive feat anyway, but staggering considering it was done by the Soviet government. Luckily they recognised how valuable the building was as a tourist attraction and rebuilt it. Despite having to rebuild the palace, the paintings and some items of furniture had been saved by fast thinking curators, who shipped them off to Siberia, just in case. They were very business like about it. Recognising that they couldn’t save everything, they took samples of each piece of furniture, thus enabling craftsmen to copy them after the war.

After our visit we pile out the Palace and into the gardens. If we thought it was packed inside, we were wrong. Outside you can barely see the golden cascade. I have to push and shove my way through the throng, to get a half decent photo. We have to wiz around the garden in under half an hour. However the timing works out well and we see a special modern fountain that briefly runs at 1pm every day, spraying unsuspecting visitors with water. Mind you there are rather a lot of people waiting for it to happen, so I don’t think it’s the best kept secret. Finally we rush back towards the coach, only to find it is blocked in behind another one. Just as we wonder what the driver is going to do, we have magically steered around it. Apparently we only bent the tree behind us!

We drive back to the centre of St Petersburg for lunch. This is taking place in a rather beautiful ex palace (there are rather a lot of these in this city). We are the last group to arrive and our starter is already waiting for us on the table. The service is excellent, as good as anything on our ship, but the waiters are extremely young. The menu is appropriately Russian; salmon starter, spinach soup, beef stroganoff and plumb tart, all washed down with a glass of vodka and another of champagne. It may have been a rush, and our two hour lazy lunch has turned into a 45 minute fast food feast, but we enjoy it immensely.

We are starting to worry about the time and don’t really see how we are going to fit everything in. However the city tour turns out to be a tourist special, we are driven round the city, hoping on and off the coach for photo stops. Whist this is a bit disappointing, we do see an awful lot in a short period of time. However I’m glad we’ve booked the Cathedrals tour tomorrow, so that we can visit a few of these sights properly.

Our first stop is on the banks of the Nerva river, overlooking the Hermitage and a spectacular new fountain (erected to mark the recent G8 meeting). There is one other sight, a life size fake sailing ship. My friend asks me what the ducks are floating around in front of it. Cheeky minx, even the ducks are plastic! The ship is actually a rather expensive gym and when we look closely you can see the treadmills inside. We also get an excellent view of the sun bathers at the SS Peter Paul Fortress. The people of St Petersburg only have 60 days of sunshine a year and love to make the most of it. The Peter Paul Fortress makes an excellent sun trap, with dedicated sun worshipers standing against the thick stone walls, soaking up every last bit of heat.

We drive around the fortress and I am really itching to get out and see it. Every piece of grass is covered in sunbathers and it has a lovely relaxed atmosphere. I’m very disappointed we don’t stop, but at least we will see it tomorrow. Opposite it is a military museum with lots of artillery and tanks. I take a few pictures of kids scrambling around on them, keenly aware I might have got into serious trouble for doing this 20 or 30 years ago.

Our next stop is another classic family day out in St Petersburg. It’s the Aurora, the ship that fired the shot heard round the world. This, ancient battleship signalled the start of the Russian Revolution in 1917 and triggered the storming of the Winter Palace. It obviously holds a special place in the heart of St Petersburger’s and they love climbing all over it. Sadly we only have five minutes, so don’t get to join them this time.

At last we see a building that could only be Russian. We have arrived at the splendid Church of the Spilled blood. Its popular name comes from a rather grizzly assassination that took place here. The poor man involved had both his lets blown off and died shortly afterwards from his injuries. However, don’t be put off by its history. This is a typical Russian Orthodox church complete with brightly coloured onion domes. Like so many churches, it was poorly treated by the Soviets who used it rather unceremoniously as a potato store. Still at least they never got round to flattening it, they voted to do it but simply didn’t have the money available to pay for the work. We don’t have long here, but the tour director has managed to run round to the front where a local market is taking place. Apparently they sell very cheap DVDs there!

Now for a stop that the Tour Director had tried desperately to cut out, to give us more time sightseeing. Unfortunately the government decrees that the tour company provides one free drink and toilet stop. A more cynical person might point out it has more to do with making sure we spend lots of money in what I suspect is a state run shop. It specialises in Russian dolls of all shapes and sizes but also sells plenty of amber jewellery. Sadly the prices are extreme. I may have wanted a Russian doll as a souvenir, but I don’t think I’m going to spend 75 euros on one.

And finally! This time it’s St Isaac’s Cathedral (another one we will see tomorrow), so I decide to find my Russian doll here on the stalls outside. I figure they must be better value than the ones I’ve just seen. Rather surprisingly they are. In fact my little lady only costs 20 euros, a similar price to the ones being sold on board ship by the Purser. I’ve also begun to suspect that the tour guides are under orders to prevent us buying stuff from independent stallholders, so now I want to, just to spite them. I chat to a young man who speaks excellent English. The doll he shows me contains nine more. When I don’t believe him, he starts taking her apart. I can’t believe how small they become and he wins me over, even before trying to open the last one. I buy the big one for meself and two smaller ones for a friends little girls.

After completing our tour we return to the ship. We are running late, but manage to get changed quickly, eat a hasty dinner and meet up ready for our next adventure. This time we are heading for the theatre to watch some Russian folk dance.

I had been expecting a fairly small scale event, but we are going to watch the State Volga Russian Folk Choir perform in their own theatre. I quickly do a head count and reckon there are about 36 member of the troupe, including singers, musicians and dancers. They appear in stunning folk costumes, with plenty of quick changes. The singing varies from mournful ballads to joyful song.

Most of the dancing seems to revolve around boy meets girl flirting. But rather than dryly perform each routine, they all seem to play slightly different characters. There’s the aloof young woman who seems indifferent to the advances of her suitor (until the end) and the short, over keen girl, who won’t let go of her very tall beau! The best dance comes at the end when sabres are produced and the lights dim, so that we can see the sparks flying as they do battle. My favourite dancer is a similar age to me and has obviously graduated within the troupe, so that he is now entitled to an official moustache.

In the end I enjoy the show so much I buy the brochure and the DVD. It’s now 10pm but there is still plenty of light. This lends the city a beautiful atmosphere and strongly reminds me of Venice. It seems far softer now that it did during the day and I really have warmed to this elegant old town.