I never imagined I would like
this city this much.
Like a dreamy illustration from
a fairytale storybook, this palace-strewn ex-swampland is up there on my list
of most beautiful cities, beating Paris, Madrid and London! It’s a definite on
my want-to-go-back–there list.
We flew into Pulkovo Airport
in the late afternoon, and I planned my tourist geekery from our hotel on
Nevsky Prospekt in what feels like the heart of St Petersburg. Laying out the
map, I pinpointed the must-sees; the Church on Spilled Blood, Neva River boat
cruise, Peter and Paul’s Fortress, St Isaac’s Cathedral and the Summer Gardens.
I confidently strode out of my
hotel lobby, armed with a map, a big-ass camera and a hair donut (yes it gets
windy on the river and I’m not about to have dodgy tourist hair in my pics,
okay?).
Aiming for the Anichkov Bridge
over the Fontanka River, I spent so much time looking for a damn cash exchange
that I missed the boat. It is illegal to accept US$ as payment in Russia, and I
found their cash-exchanging cash machines exceptionally confusing. My profound
learning outcome from said confusion? Next time, buy the Rubles before you go genius.
Lesson learnt, I drowned my
sorrows with a sook (Russian for juice), wandered the pastel streets and waited
an hour and a half for the next boat. Eurgh. For someone who’s always late, I
sure do hate waiting.
Boarding the boat, which I
later heard someone describe (fairly accurately) as a barge that had seen
better days, I sat at the back and got comfortable. It wasn’t too busy so I
had about four plastic seats to myself to stretch out.
If you’re seated at the back, it’s a lot easier to hear the commentary
from the speakers either side of you.
The barge faking it as a boat
cruised steadily out onto the Neva River, past summer palaces, extravagant
winter homes, sites of sin and mysterious murders, under bridges and alongside
a beautifully smooth sunset which made me entirely glad that I’d missed the
previous boat.
As the sun skimmed across the
back of Peter and Paul’s Fortress, its flickering fingers pointed out golden domes
and spires that speckle the city. Architectural proof of one man’s
dream to build a new capital inspired by Europe’s finest. Baroque, Greek, gothic,
Roman - you name it, every style is woven into a web of absolutely breathtaking
buildings around every turn.
As I listened to the stories
of St Petersburg’s conception, it actually echoed the very city I live in
today. Dubai. That’s not to say they resemble one another, or even that they
have many similarities. Rather, there are some parallels in the ambition that
founded the grand expansion of what used to be not very much. The titled Peter
The Great wanted to create something like Venice; he envisioned man-made canals
and rivers throughout the city. He sought to impress those who entered the city
by boat with majestic palaces, tall spires and fabulous structures engineered
by Russia and Europe’s best architects and artists. The elements were against
him as the weather in St P is either cold or wet, or both, 300 – 330 days of
the year; and much of the land was marshy swamp. And yet, he achieved his goal.
Over 300 years later, the rest of the world is still blown away by the beauty
of this incredible place.
It makes me wonder, as Dubai
continues to rise from its sandy foundations, what will the world think in 300
years from now? Will they be awed by the cloud piercing Burj Khalifa? The
man-made palm-shaped islands? The detailed interiors of hotels glittering on
every corner of tree-lined boulevards? Will this beauty endure for three more
centuries? Built on a plan of wild dreams and ambition, Dubai’s rulers have
seen the potential in their land like Peter The Great saw in his… just some
food for thought!
Back to Russia, and my hair
donut and I were getting along fabulously as the wind picked up and the sun
slowly began to sink behind the old Stock Exchange building.
The tour aboard el barge took
about an hour. I got back to my hotel at 11pm and it was still light outside (I
forgot how much I love long summer nights). By this point I was walking dead
having only slept 3 hours the night before (downside of wanting a social life
and cool job) – bedtime for me.
The next morning, the plan is
to hit the big fat touristy red bus. Running along Nevsky Prospekt, a blur of coloured
brickwork whizzed past and I only just made it (thanks to the long queue giving
me a 3 minute late window). It cost 600rubles for a day pass on the bus, but
given that the bus pulls up only once an hour, you'll have to be on the ball, get off and spend an hour
at the stops you like, and then hop back on again. Note to self: be early next time and you’ll get a window seat from the
start of the tour.
I stayed on the bus for close
to two hours, and thanks to the audio guide, which can be heard in 11 different
languages, I didn’t feel a minute of it. Sitting on top of the bus, I had this
perfect balance of morning sunshine and summery breeze to accompany some class
sightseeing.
I’m not going to recount the
entire tour, but I will share my favourite moments:
- The
dry humour from the man narrating the audio guide. Like.
- The view from the top of a double-decker; it’s nice to see a city
without having to dodge ice cream-wielding children and tons of tourists.
- An
interesting recommendation to check out the many metro stations. I wouldn’t
have thought to look, but many are decorated with stained glass, marble and
intricate designwork. Thanks Mr Audio Guide.
- A
cracking view of the Church on Spilled Blood. Wish I’d sat on the right side of
the bus for an amazing photo opp. A great way to get a shot from high up, with
no unsuspecting bodies poised to photobomb your snaps.
- Learning
that proper bridges to cross the wide Neva River were only commissioned after
the death of Peter the Great, as he had insisted on citizens using boats to get
from one side to the other – it was prettier that way!
- Hearing
stories of scandal, from the days when aristocrats made outrageously expensive
demands, and held super-posh parties. The audio guide gives you all sorts of gossip
pertaining to the Russian rich folks. Something like an 18th
century Russian version of today’s Hello magazine.
- The
gorgeous gold-plated copper dome of St. Isaac’s Cathedral, so carefully
constructed that it has never required any work since the mid-1800s. I would
have liked to look around inside, but I was Pushkin-ed for time. Sorry.
Hopping off the bus, I
wandered up to the Church on Spilled Blood. As I admired the trippy turrets from
the edge of the canal, a French man stopped me to ask if I might take him a
photo. I obliged, and then asked him to return the favour using my
slightly broken Nikon.
Upon noticing the state of my
mightily cracked lens (see the lines in my photo above^^^), he offered me a spare lens of his own,
saying he never used it anyway. And although I refused the offer/tried to pay him for
it, he insisted that nice things happen to nice people. Then he handed me the
lens, and off he went.
Needless to say, this was a
very sweet cherry on my little cake and as I made my way through the gardens
adjacent to the CoSB, I said a prayer of gratitude for all the beauty in St
Petersburg, for the sunshine and blue sky, and for the random act of kindness
that had made my day.
I can’t wait to go back.
Love
from Russian dolly x
P.s. Most of the photos above are taken with my Samsung S3 except the last one with my cracked lens... and below, taken with my new lens, my favourite shot of the day!
