Tuesday, April 8

We decided that our next destination in Russia would be a place called Kazan, Republic of Tatarstan---sometimes referred to as the Istanbul of the Volga. It is home base for Russia's Tatar minority, Turkic people who trace back to Ghengis Khan and Volga Bulgaria. There is a strong, very moderate, dynamic Islamic culture here. It is a place of cultural tolerance and great academic achievement and is about 150 years older than Moscow.


The train ride from St. P. to Kazan would be 22 hours. Russia's vastness cannot be overstated. We won't really be leaving Western Russia's steppes. Our was due to leave St. Petersburg's Moscovsky Voksal station at 4:15 pm. Laura decided to spend her last day at the Hermitage---Janet and I whiled away a few hours sitting in the sun in a park just north of the Church of the Saviour of Spilled Blood. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The light in a northern Russian spring day is like the light in a New Mexico fall, rich and warm with a hint of shadow. With a couple of hours before our train we walked over to the little vegetarian place, Botanika, and had some sublime tea, relaxing in this little bohemian spot---girding for the train marathon.


We had the hotel get us a cab( lots of luggage), same guy who picked me up when I arrived. Nice fellow in a Peugot SUV. Entered the station, I now kind of know what I am doing....and I proudly led the girls to the right track, right train, right car, and right seat. Sweet.We brought cognac, a plethora of snacks. The providnitzas quickly gave us a lot of friendly attention. The train rolled at precisely 4:13pm.

St. Isaac's Cathedral. Old man polishing off some ribs at Terrassa, St. P.

 

My beautiful wife Janet and I on the Volga Embankment, Saratov, Russian Federation.

 

Views from St. Isaac's.

 

Dinner at Terrassa.We think Dmitri and laura might be related. View of the city from the restaurant.

 

Monday April 6, St. P. with our friend Dmitri.

We must have walked 6-7 miles on this day. Even 20 year old Dmitri was a little tired as we crossed the  Dvortsovy Most(bridge) toward the Admiralty and the finale for our day, the St. Isaacs Cathedral. We stopped and rested in a little park and I took the opportunity to tell Dmitri that I had beaten Stepan in Russian billiards for the first time last week 3-2. He was quite pleased to hear that, though he did imply he didn't really care for pool that much.


St Petersburg is quite cosmopolitan, you hear German, Swedish, Norwegian, Italian, Spanish, and every once in a long while, American accented English. As we began to near our final destination, crowds of college student traveler materialize. This beautiful building is designed by a French architect and gives the best views of the city. You buy tickets for most things in Russia at a place designated "Kacca", and we bought 4 to climb 262 steps to the top of the dome and colonnade. We did this with a gaggle of Euro students jabbering in a number of languages. It was a good climb, but it is always comforting at 50 years to be less out of breath than those who are 30 years younger. I take great joy in 20 yr olds gasping for breath when I am merely breathing hard with a bit of a good pulse.The girls and Dmitri also were non-plussed by the effort. I guess we are all pretty OK.
It is crowded up here. Lots of photo interference going on, but most everyone is pleasant. Views are extraordinary. We all take lots of pictures(those will follow). You go down a different narrow staircase....I am always in danger of whacking my head in these instances....and back on the street.


At this point our friend needs to leave us for home and there is some discussion of our location in respect to our destination. My New Mexico roots have bestowed a good sense of direction upon me(sometimes) and during the subsequent mild argument about route, I am vindicated by both the citizen and my female company.


We take the opportunity to invite Dmitri to dinner with us; he accepts. We choose a place called Terrassa...a swanky upscale place with views from a 6th floor. We plan to meet a few hours later at the restaurant, but as things happen....while we are walking down Nevsky in the evening to the restaurant, Dmitri comes up behind us at an intersection. Smiles all around. We are all friends after only a day. Life is good.

Cobblestones inside Peter and Paul Fortress

 

SS Peter and Paul Cathedral; Peter the Great Statue---might have been a strange looking fella.

 

Saratov. This would be like if you went to your local jewelry store in Bethesda and there was a "Putin sucks" sign on the front door.

 

Peter and Paul Fortress; SS Peter and Paul Cathedral

 

Wooden ship restaurant on the Neva. Russian Crow.

 

Sunbathing Russian style.

 

Monday, April 7, St. Petersburg

Stepan Orlov, my friend here in Saratov, had assured me that when we arrived in St. Petersburg, he would connect us with someone who could show us the city. I was informed that a good friend of his, Dmitiri, a student in St. P., would text or call me to make arrangements. I have a little phone that Dr. Bobarykina helped me obtain when I first arrived---it is nice to have cell service here. Dmitri texted me on Saturday after I arrived, proposing a Sunday tour of St.P. As we knew that we could easily see the Hermitage on our own and that Monday most museums were closed, we asked Dmitri if he could possibly meet us Monday----he responded favorably, saying he had no classes. He is also studying Public Administration, a huge number of students in this country study this subject is seems. From what I understand, the state apparatus needs people to run it, and this is where they come from. As far as I can tell, these students take a lot of economics, communications, law, and courses like Human Resource Mgmt/Organizational Behaviour.


We proposed to Dmitri that we meet somewhere near our hotel around 1pm for lunch---we would then let him take us where he thought would be interesting. I suggested a metro stop near the Russian Museum, which it turns out, was open. Janet and Laura went to the museum, I took a walk along the embankment until it was time to meet our friend at Nevsky Prospect Metro Station. Bad meeting place. It has 5 entrances and a warren of underground tunnels in which to get lost. I texted that I was wearing an orange jacket and standing outside near something called the Rock-n-roll pub. Dmitiri had no idea what this was. I then texted our cross street. Then we talked on the phone about that cross street. From an American perspective, it seems that if you say something close to what you mean in Russian, it should be obvious to a Russian what you mean. Not really. Think about when someone from say a Latin American country says something to you in accented English----and you have no clue what they said----this happens to Russians when someone like me says something in what we think is passable Russian. They have no idea what we are talking about. It can seem minor to those of us who don't speak the language, when in fact it comes across as unintelligible. So Dmitri and I do this for 5-10 minutes. Finally he shows up. Calls my number. I am standing right next to him. I can't help but think that back before cell phones we were better at giving clear, concise directions.
He is a friendly, energetic, redheaded young man---originally from Saratov. His Dad owns an auto repair shop there. He is on a full, merit based academic scholarship, as are most people in Russia. Lives in a dormitory near the city center. Second year of college.
He proposes we go to lunch at a sort of café/cafeteria right on Nevsky Prospect, that I've noticed is popular with college students. So you go into one of these places and you are not sure if there is waitstaff---sometimes there are, sometimes not. This does not. You go through a line telling people behind the counter what you want. There is ONE English menu. Nothing on the menu is available and if it is, the employees have no idea what it is. Dmitri even seems a little confused when I point at a wrap with lamb in it. I of course end up with a veggie wrap. So you are in line, Russians behind you getting exasperated. Girls need time to choose of course. Whole thing drives me absolutely crazy. If I was never again in one of these places for the rest of my life, I would be happy. You have to queue up to get your tea----large amount of nice choices----but to Russians, any sort of uncertainty exhibited is interpreted as a chance to get in front of you. There is an un-orderly scrum around the tea area. To avoid my urge to throttle someone, I give up on tea and sit down. Girls have ordered blinis with sweet fillings. We eat. Food is fine. Dmitri is very nice. I can't wait to get out of there.


(Yesterday, outside the Institute here in Saratov, a guy walks up to the front door, hands full of food, drink etc---no way to open the door----I open it for him and he gives me a look that would scare Medusa----I guess I never learn)


Back to St. P.----soon we are off, through a large park, canals all around. It is a beautiful day, a bit chilly, but sun is shining brightly. We head toward the Neva River and begin crossing one of several large beautiful bridges---takes a while to get all the way over. Views are extraordinary---this city is absolutely a sight to behold. For Americans who love Europe but are afraid of Russia---this is the place to go. Easy to fly into, wonderful hotels, friendly people, great restaurants. Much is centrally located---a whole bunch of people speak English. And beautiful in every direction.


Dmitri intends to take us to the Peter and Paul Fortress, on the Petrograd side of the Neva. This is fort built in 1703 by Peter the Great to fight the Swedes. Used mostly as a political prison until the revolution in 1917.We walk to a huge mosque before entering the fortress which is on a little island.
Lots of cool buildings, a very strange statue of Peter----he has a tiny head----People rub his little finger on his left hand for luck---it is polished shiny. On the east wall of the fort is a gravelly beach. There are whole bunch of Russian dudes here, standing in the sun with their shirts off, leaning against the wall. Some have the always pleasant euro swimtrunks as well. We surreptitiously get a couple of photos. We also visit the island's Russian mint and jewelry store. really nice stuff here in a variety of price ranges---coins, medals, rings. A lot of Russians apparently buy engagement and wedding rings here.
There are a few fellows fishing, some huge wooden ships in the river that are now restaurants(probably touristy); Russians everywhere are out enjoying the weather. You can see the Hermitage from across the water. We see what looks like a business guy, shirt open to his chest, shiny suit, loudly explaining to a couple of guys how he wants his vending booth erected near the grass. I am very curious of course as to how he got the right to that area---perhaps similar to how you get  a cart license in DC maybe?
We've walked a while now and gotten to know our Russian pal pretty well at this point. He is kind, listens, talks to all of us----gets along especially well with Laura---has a great sense of humor. Young people in this country continue to impress me.


We begin to cross another bridge back to the city center to climb to the top of St Isaac's Cathedral in the hopes of getting a 360 panorama of St. P.


All for now---some photos to follow.