Day 4 - St. Petersburg

Tuesday, 11/25 -

The day was planned primarily to see some imperial spots and some palaces that weren't open to the public. I figured for the purposes of my mind racing with all of the smaller visual treats I wanted to see, I should get this out of the way. Plus, it made for a perfect way to get my bearings around this beautiful city.

I began on Millionaya Ulitsa (Millionaire's Street), aptly named for the once grand homes that still line the street today, but without the splendor of the past. One thing I could not shake my entire visit here was seeing palaces and sumptuous homes whose rooms had been turned into apartments for the working classes after the Revolution. Curiously, I also wondered about the fate of the previous owners who either fled the country once Lenin took power or stayed and risked imminent death. I walked along the street aside the complex which made up the Hermitage, making sure
not to break my neck on the icy streets. In Russia, they don't shovel the sidewalks, so you are left to fend for yourself.

Walking around the Winter Palace area, I walked up the Admiralty until I reached the Bronze Horseman. It wasn't as awe inspiring as you see it in photos, more like, "meh", but I went ahead and snapped a photo anyway. Afterwards, I stopped into St. Isaac's Cathedral. I paid the admission with a 1,000 ruble bill and winced as the woman snatched it away and began gesticulating wildly behind the glass. I couldn't hear her cursing me out for giving her such a large bill, which was just as well. St. Isaac's is not as heart stopping as Church on Spilled Blood, but gorgeous nonetheless. I didn't know it until later, but I was somehow corralled into a Russian speaking tour group. Thinking this was the only way to see the inside (there are some places that require you to have a guide), I complied and remained silent, not giving away the fact I wasn't fluent in Russian.

It wasn't until the group passed an English speaking couple that I realized had I murmured something, anything, in English to the woman at the entrance, I could've gone it alone, that a group wasn't a requisite. By then, I was too far into the group experience to excuse myself without embarrassment, especially since I often nodded my head for effect. Besides, the funny thing is that there are no signs in English explaining anything, and through the guide's hand gestures, and a few English words adopted into the Russian language, I actually figured out some of the things she was talking about. Also, being in a group allowed me to take photos without buying the additional photography pass that many Russian museums require you to buy in order to snap photos. My biggest fear was that the guide would stop and ask us direct questions.

Afterwards, I ventured over the Moika Embankment, still enjoying the multitude of pastel painted Italianate grand homes, and visited the Yusupov Palace. I tried to get into the Rasputin group without success. This is probably one of the only museums where you would need to hire a guide in order to see a certain part of a museum. Only those who speak Russian are allowed to venture into the basement for this special once a day tour where the murder of Rasputin took place. I couldn't fool the woman in the ticket booth and the sign specifically forbids any non-Russian speakers from taking the tour without a guide, even for a look at the room. I decided not to push it and went with the regular house tour. I didn't buy a photography pass and got caught out by one of the many room guards you see. I did manage to snap a few quick panicked shots in places where the guards weren't around, but my racing heart kept this to a minimum.

The sun was shining, a rare treat in November here, so I ran back to St. Isaac's to use the other portion of my ticket, the outside observatory, hoping to catch a sunny vista. St. Petersburg isn't known for its skyline views so this was a bit of a disappointment. I ran back over and finished my self tour of the Moika embankment, stopping in front of Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna's former home. In their haste to erase the memory of all of royalty, the Bolsheviks must have forgotten that her gates still have her initials on them. I walked past the home of Grand Duke Alexei Alexandrovich, the favorite uncle of the last Tsar and namesake of Nicholas' doomed son. Grand Duke Alexei was also the inspiration for the New Orlean's Mardi Gras Rex Parade, and it's official colors, which honor the colors of the Russian flag. His time in the US was legendary, if much forgotten. The home was recently purchased by someone who is lovingly restoring this gorgeous palace back to its original state. I only hope the interior can match the splendor it once was.

By this time, it was getting dark and taking a wrong turn ended me up on a street off of Dekabristov Ulitsa. I stumbled upon an old school store where you have to ask for everything behind the counter. This is where I purchased my vodka because it was much cheaper than the neighborhood I was staying in. What was odd was seeing the illegal vodka (a huge market here) right there in jam jars for sale among the prestigious brands, but of course, on the bottom shelves.

I purchased some bananas (pronounced "bananas", thankfully!) and the woman behind the counter was excited to speak English with me, as little as she could speak, and she smiled upon learning I was from NYC. People don't smile here, so it was strange to see someone so gregarious towards me. In fact, I read that in Russia, smiling at strangers is considered to be a sign of mental illness. Since I was totally enjoying my trip and happy about everything in my pathway, I must've looked liked I escaped from Bedlam.

All that getting lost got me hungry, so once I got myself back on track and onto the Moika, I stopped into the Café Idiot for some pelemi covered in sour cream (smentana). They give you a shot of vodka once you sit down. A great way to end the day's travels.