Day 6 - St. Petersburg

Thursday, 11/27 -

Aside from the Hermitage, another must see spot is the town of Pushkin, or Tsarskoe Selo to us Romanov purists. Located about 15 miles outside of the city, this was clearly a day trip and I armed myself as much information as possible in the months and days prior to getting here. I also took the metro for the first time in order to get to Moscovskaya Ploshad to catch a minibus to the palaces.

On the metro, I realized I had lost the little key that locked my LeSportSac tote. I did this to thwart any potential pick pockets, but kept the key on it's chain around the zipper. For the two years I have had this bag, that key has stayed on it's chain attached to the zipper. Given my luck, it decides to fall off at the most inopportune time of my life. Once in Moscovskaya station, I approached a woman working a newspaper kiosk and made what might possibly be the international symbol for scissors with my hands. Showing her my locked bag, which looked as if the zipper was stuck shut, she passed me a dull pair of scissors and I stood there for what felt like an eternity, carefully cutting into my bag in order to gain access to my stuff. Exiting the metro, I passed someone who looked as if he had taken a bad fall. Blood was pouring from his forehead and people surrounded him to help. I remembered my fall on the unforgiving ice and said a silent prayer that he would be alright.

Passing the House of Soviets, I was highly amused by the huge statue of Lenin with Christmas trees on each side on him. He most certainly wouldn't have seen the irony. Chesme Church was nearby, so I decided to venture a little further to find it. It was worth the effort looking for it, and the church looks like a cute pink and white candy confection against the stark Soviet block housing back drop. Chesme Palace is across the street, but it too has zero luster.

Finding the correct minibus to Tsarskoe Selo was at first, a chore. Once I found it however, I was fine. Called marshrutka, minibuses are common in Russia and are run mostly by private individuals. They are quasi-official and very safe. You simply flag them like a taxi cab and hop on, paying once you reach your stop. Since they are minivans, if full, they won't pick you up. Thankfully, I didn't have this problem, but it was a bit lip biting considering it was my first time riding in one and not really knowing the protocol. I repeated "Pushkin" a few times for stops I wasn't sure of, and the driver realized he was dealing with a complete novice. So, when the van stopped in front of the Alexander Palace and I wanted to get off, there was a test of wills between us when he shook his head no and saying "Pushkin" (which he assumed I had wanted) wasn't here. I repeated over and over again "Alexander Palace" fervidly pointing towards the palace to give indication this was where I really wanted to be.

There is no greater moment, so far in my travels, than to have the Alexander Palace appear before me. This was the moment in all of the years I have studied this imperial dynasty that was meaningful to my hobby. It was snowing heavily, but that didn't deter me at all. Prior to entering the museum, I lingered around the grounds. This was both for photo ops and to calm myself down. The outside of the palace is a sad state of affairs; it's crumbling and in desperate need of repairs. Rumor has it the Bolsheviks and subsequent parties hated Nicholas II so much that they considered this palace, his favorite and last residence, to be of no use historically. Focusing on the Winter Palace, Peterhof, Pavlosk, and Catherine Palace seemed to be more to their concern.

The right wing of the palace is in shambles, but there is currently work going on to repair this side, although it looks like a rescue, not a revamp. Sad. The left wing, where the last Tsar and his family lived, is where the museum is located. After checking my belongings in the cloakroom (this is such a Russian thing, you must check your belongings everywhere you go!), and putting the protective booties over my boots, I entered and passed the point of no return. Because much of the contents of the palace were looted, sold off, or destroyed during the WWII German occupation, so much is gone. Instead, the museum has placed huge black and white photos on the wall to give the appearance of what the rooms once looked like. Much of Alexandra's room is gone, a few pieces remain. Nicholas' study is pretty much the only room whose contents are intact. Even more sad are some of the displays showing the children's toys and their clothing.

Walking around Alexander Park taking in as much as possible, I could see the Children's House, weather beaten and in need of a spruce up. It was built as a playhouse for past generations of imperial children. Since the park is free and open to the public, the solemness was broken up by children sledding and building snowmen just meters from the palace. The pigeons stop, several surrounding you at almost every step. I guess they are so used to tourists feeding them they've become spoiled and unafraid of humans. Frankly, it resembled a scene out of the movie The Birds!

Okay, I have a confession to make. I didn't tour the inside of the Catherine Palace. I know, hop on the cross and nail myself there. But, I really had no interest considering the preference to spend as much time as possible at the Alexander Palace. Instead, I walked the grounds around it, taking photos. If it had not got dark so early, I would have ventured inside for a tour. This time, I had bigger fish to fry. Oh well, another time. I did swing down past the Tepper De Ferguson house, which was the former home of Alexandra's friend Anna Vyrbrovna. Anna was the one who introduced Rasputin to the family. It was at her home that Rasputin and the imperial family paid many visits together. This was because the meetings wouldn't be recorded by court officials if he came to the palace. I also passed the statue of Pushkin for whom the town was renamed after.

My next stop was someplace not many venture out to, the abandoned train station of the last Tsar. It's out a ways on the other side of Pushkin, near the university. It sits there, abandoned and vandalized, now a place where teenagers go to party and create mischief. The smaller imperial crests are still up, the big one in front has been taken down, but you can still trace the image of the imperial eagle. The station is probably one of the few hold overs from Russian imperial times. It was getting too dark at this point and being female, foreign, and alone, I decided against going inside, even though one of the doors was propped open. Had I been with someone, or if it were daytime, I would have SO been inside that station. But, I guess I'll leave that excitement for another trip. On my way back into the town center, I visited the Feodorovskiy Cathedral, which was commissioned by Nicholas II and was the family's favorite church. A service was in session and I bought a small icon of the family in the store on the grounds. They've been canonized as saints, so you can supposedly pray to them.

I flagged a minibus back to St. Petersburg, happy about my day and all I had seen. Thanksgiving was that same day. I may have left the US, but the US never leaves me. So, I found a nice place to eat my harvest meal, at the Dicken's Pub on the Fontanka Canal, and tucked into a cottage pie.

Walking back to the hostel, I surveyed the city so far. Four days in and still loving everything I had seen. I stopped into the Dom Knigi bookstore, which occupies space in the Singer building, and bought books, post cards, and a calendar. I was done shopping for myself and called it a night.