The first thing we did this morning after an amazing buffet breakfast was to hop on the bus and head towards Novgorod. Novgorod is the third largest city in Russia, but as far as I knew it may as well have been Anatevka. I suppose with big sisters like Moscow and St. Petersburg, it becomes pretty easy to fall into the shadows like so much Jan Brady.
The bus ride was about 4 hours through the arctic tundra of Russia. No kidding, this was pretty much the way you would imagine Russia to be. The kind of place where Nazi's and Frenchmen starved and froze. Miles and miles of endless wasteland stretches out into the distance. Nothing is farmed there, nothing is built there. Aside from the occasional WWII monument commemorating the death of tens of thousands of Germans who got caught in a kill zone, there is pretty much nothing.
That is until you get to Novgorod. This is a contemporary city with a medieval Kremlin (which is translated as "city outside a fortress" so there are actually many Kremlins throughout Russia, not just Moscow.) We didn't get into Novgorod proper but we did get into the Kremlin as well as the old medieval area which is still an active archaeological site. It is in fact a very important one due since the discovery of numerous letters written by the people of the time. It was widely believed that the layman was illiterate during the dark ages but since this discovery of numerous birch bark letters written from the 11th century, that belief has changed. Not only that, but as an added bonus to theoretical linguists out there, the people wrote without the rules of grammar and instead wrote in the way that people really spoke, much like Mark Twain. This allows the academics to truly see how the language had and has evolved.
It was upon our arrival in Novgorod that it started to snow...and it didn't want to stop. It made the whole experience a little difficult. Now when I tell you I've seen bad winters you should believe it. Having lived in upstate New York as well as rural Kansas, I was under the impression I had seen the worst of it all. But I assure you, you have never felt cold like a bitingly frigid gust of wind, that having traveled all the way from Siberia, whips right through your clothing and makes you wonder if life is really worth all this effort. Never before have I felt cold like this...and when the snow blinds you and ice particles are flying into your eyes, well let's just say I dressed in many more layers on a daily basis after Novgorod.
After we left Novgorod (and after having perused the myriad of birch trinkets available at the tourist huts) we headed off to a monastery to meet with Brother Dimitri. He is a Russian Orthodox monk who deals in relief to drug addicted people. He was a well spoken man and a thoughtful man, as one would imagine monks to be, and surprised me in the fact that at one point he had been a chemical engineer. He spoke of the tenants of the orthodox church and spoke out against the bastardized protestants etc... But the most interesting thing he said was his philosophy of noise. He said that in anything in life, noise gets in the way. If you are studying radio frequencies you have to know what the background noise is before you can study variations in the actual subject. He said that this is the same as prayer and listening to god. One cannot hear the word of god if one has too much noise in their life. He said noise comes from abusing alcohol or drugs or sex and if one lives a life of moderation and prayer, that only then can one begin to identify the noise, remove it, and truly speak to god. Interesting stuff...at least philosophically.
We thanked him for the time and headed out for one last stop: a UNESCO protected monastery. At this point, I think everyone was exhausted and tired and was just ready to go. Or at least I was because frankly I don't remember a thing about this visit. Too bad too because looking at the pictures, it appeared to be pretty beautiful.
After another four hour drive back to St. Petersburg, we got dropped off at the train station. That was an experience. The station was everything a train station should be: big, imposing, almost threatening with the smell of diesel permeating every nook and cranny. We had an hour or so before we boarded our train to Moscow. It was an overnight affair so we all had sleeper cars with four beds to a room. I have to admit it was a pretty cool experience. The cars were so much like what you would expect from a Russian overnight train. Great window treatments with curtains etc...it was what you think of when you think of the Orient Express. Just a nice luxurious cabin.
Tomorrow in Moscow.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
November 2nd images are up
They are on the right, below November 3d.
Enjoy...
I'll post more soon about the remainder of the trip, Novgorod, Moscow etc...
Take care
TW
Enjoy...
I'll post more soon about the remainder of the trip, Novgorod, Moscow etc...
Take care
TW
I know
I posted some photos out of order...I will get the 2nd up soon.
Sorry.
But in the meantime, enjoy November 3d in St. Petersburg!
TW
Sorry.
But in the meantime, enjoy November 3d in St. Petersburg!
TW
November 3d, St. Petersburg
Catching you up on Russia.
The last few days I have been absent, I know, but internet has been expensive and time has been short. But things have been a lot of fun!
Let me start where I had left off, just after our first day of St. Petersburg.
We started the second day, not on a bus, not with our guide Jon, but instead we were guided into St. Petersburg by my groups own, famous Russian television journalist on a tour of the "other side" of Petrograd. We began by first hopping onto the deepest metro in the world, once again, and riding it into another part of the city. Once there, we walked a few blocks to find ourselves at an indoor market. This was a wonderful place, the kind of place I knew existed in Denmark or even Lawrence. The market itself was a kind of permanent farmer's market with everything you could ever want from chocolate to pickled everythings. Fish was in abundance and cuts of meat I still have yet to figure out. There was even an enormous stand selling nothing but honey straight from the comb! It was very cool. We all bought our own individual things, however the guide bought a number of pickles and told us she was going to teach us how to eat a pickle the Russian way.
We left the market and it wasn't too long before we had rounded the corner into an urban neighborhood. We were not in the places that wind up on postcards, and we were not in the places that tourists are itching to go. This was a bit slummy, but then again, this was the day to see the other side of St. Petersburg so onward we go. We turned corner and I, being towards the back of the pack, see everyone disappearing into a large steel door with no markings and no signage. I would not, in fact, have given it a second look. Upon entering the building (and I say building a bit tongue in cheek since it was merely a room with a high ceiling) and realise that at 10:30 in the morning, our guide has brought us to a bar. Not just any bar, however. This bar, she says, usually caters to those who are somewhere between alcoholic and homeless. I briefly wonder where she is on that spectrum since she has just finished telling me she is hung over. The bar itself is probably no more than 10 feet by 10 feet with a bar running the length and sides. There are no stools and it is very apparent that this is the kind of establishment that would not cater so much to dawdling and long form conversation. Get your booze, drink it, and leave, is what the room says to me. She orders us all ENORMOUS shots of vodka and informs us that the proper way to eat a pickle is as a chaser to a shot of vodka. So, who are we to judge. We all throw down the shots like hearty Russians and prepare to hit the town once more, with new strength burning in our stomachs.
Barbara, our guide, leads us further into Petersburg and into areas that are called Brick Cities. This term refers to what happens when a series of communist era tenements are all built together causing odd angled alleyways and squares to form in between them. There is an almost rectilinear zigging and zagging of alleyways that connect major street to major street in this area that would not be on any maps but merely available in the ingrained memories of the locals. There is no grass on the ground and few windows look out. Most of the rooms are part of a communal apartment and you can judge the relative wealth of the tenant by what kind of window framing they have. Needless to say, even the best frames were of poor quality.
It was through these courtyards and alleys that we found our way to Barbara's friend's apartment. He lives in a typical communist apartment and let me tell you, it was not pretty. Think of the worst dorm room you've ever seen, and then put 6 of those together with a shared kitchen and bath. A life like this I would not wish on a dog. But it is how many of the Russians live here in St. Petersburg. Since the fall of communism, is is possible to buy out the rest of the occupants of your apartment and make it all your own, but for the most part, these are all shared domiciles.
After this we had lunch and exchanged stories with the other group. As it turned out, they had not gone to a bar as we had but instead had gone to a Russian donut shop. I guess their guide was not as hung over as ours!
When lunch ended (and let me tell you it is very easy to get sick of Borscht) we headed to the Winter Palace. Talk about extreme ends of the spectrum! To go from the poverty of this morning to the grandeur of the Winter Palace was a bit like running from a sauna into a snow drift. But it was remarkable. The Winter Palace is a place of paramount beauty. Gilded and painted, festooned with art and, in fact, art itself. It is a wonderful place but the kind of place that I'll let the photographs describe.
That was the end of a long day, and I was ready to turn in.
Tomorrow is the drive to Novgorod and then the train to Moskow!
The last few days I have been absent, I know, but internet has been expensive and time has been short. But things have been a lot of fun!
Let me start where I had left off, just after our first day of St. Petersburg.
We started the second day, not on a bus, not with our guide Jon, but instead we were guided into St. Petersburg by my groups own, famous Russian television journalist on a tour of the "other side" of Petrograd. We began by first hopping onto the deepest metro in the world, once again, and riding it into another part of the city. Once there, we walked a few blocks to find ourselves at an indoor market. This was a wonderful place, the kind of place I knew existed in Denmark or even Lawrence. The market itself was a kind of permanent farmer's market with everything you could ever want from chocolate to pickled everythings. Fish was in abundance and cuts of meat I still have yet to figure out. There was even an enormous stand selling nothing but honey straight from the comb! It was very cool. We all bought our own individual things, however the guide bought a number of pickles and told us she was going to teach us how to eat a pickle the Russian way.
We left the market and it wasn't too long before we had rounded the corner into an urban neighborhood. We were not in the places that wind up on postcards, and we were not in the places that tourists are itching to go. This was a bit slummy, but then again, this was the day to see the other side of St. Petersburg so onward we go. We turned corner and I, being towards the back of the pack, see everyone disappearing into a large steel door with no markings and no signage. I would not, in fact, have given it a second look. Upon entering the building (and I say building a bit tongue in cheek since it was merely a room with a high ceiling) and realise that at 10:30 in the morning, our guide has brought us to a bar. Not just any bar, however. This bar, she says, usually caters to those who are somewhere between alcoholic and homeless. I briefly wonder where she is on that spectrum since she has just finished telling me she is hung over. The bar itself is probably no more than 10 feet by 10 feet with a bar running the length and sides. There are no stools and it is very apparent that this is the kind of establishment that would not cater so much to dawdling and long form conversation. Get your booze, drink it, and leave, is what the room says to me. She orders us all ENORMOUS shots of vodka and informs us that the proper way to eat a pickle is as a chaser to a shot of vodka. So, who are we to judge. We all throw down the shots like hearty Russians and prepare to hit the town once more, with new strength burning in our stomachs.
Barbara, our guide, leads us further into Petersburg and into areas that are called Brick Cities. This term refers to what happens when a series of communist era tenements are all built together causing odd angled alleyways and squares to form in between them. There is an almost rectilinear zigging and zagging of alleyways that connect major street to major street in this area that would not be on any maps but merely available in the ingrained memories of the locals. There is no grass on the ground and few windows look out. Most of the rooms are part of a communal apartment and you can judge the relative wealth of the tenant by what kind of window framing they have. Needless to say, even the best frames were of poor quality.
It was through these courtyards and alleys that we found our way to Barbara's friend's apartment. He lives in a typical communist apartment and let me tell you, it was not pretty. Think of the worst dorm room you've ever seen, and then put 6 of those together with a shared kitchen and bath. A life like this I would not wish on a dog. But it is how many of the Russians live here in St. Petersburg. Since the fall of communism, is is possible to buy out the rest of the occupants of your apartment and make it all your own, but for the most part, these are all shared domiciles.
After this we had lunch and exchanged stories with the other group. As it turned out, they had not gone to a bar as we had but instead had gone to a Russian donut shop. I guess their guide was not as hung over as ours!
When lunch ended (and let me tell you it is very easy to get sick of Borscht) we headed to the Winter Palace. Talk about extreme ends of the spectrum! To go from the poverty of this morning to the grandeur of the Winter Palace was a bit like running from a sauna into a snow drift. But it was remarkable. The Winter Palace is a place of paramount beauty. Gilded and painted, festooned with art and, in fact, art itself. It is a wonderful place but the kind of place that I'll let the photographs describe.
That was the end of a long day, and I was ready to turn in.
Tomorrow is the drive to Novgorod and then the train to Moskow!
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
November 2nd, Petrograd
Let me begin by apologizing for not posting new pictures but I have to pay for Internet and it is not cost-effective to spend an hour uploading images. I'll post them when I get home.
So:
November 2
We began our first full day in St. Petersburg on the bus driving up Nievsky Prospect to the statue of Peter the Great given to him by Catharine the Great. This statue, called the Bronze Horsemen, represents Peter astride a large and wildly lunging horse. The horse, meant to represent Russia, is being controlled, only just barely, by the might Peter with his one hand while his right hand gestures towards the horizon. Peter, dressed in Roman clothing and a laurel looks solemnly to the west. This is an important statue in many ways. St. Petersburg was the creation of Peter the Great. He, as a young man, became the first Tsar to ever leave Russia. He chose to travel and study in the west, in Europe. And it was a result of these travels that he became a bit westernized. He returned to Moscow with a mustache instead of the traditional full beard and instantly ordered that all Russian men shave off their beards. He liked things to match the rest of Europe and as such, went to war with Sweden (I think, could be Finland) in order to capture a pathway to the west. Previously, Russia had no western seaport, so after taking this area of swampy land, Peter had it drained, and built St. Petersburg in it's place. The next step was to move the capital here, where he could always be closer to the western world he held so dear. IT is for these reasons the imagery on the statue becomes western in detail: the roman clothes, the non-Cyrillic inscription on one side, and of course the overall image of Peter riding a wild horse into the west. All in all a pretty impressive statue that has been written about many times, most famously, however, in Pushkin's poem The Bronze Horseman. Worth the read.
We stopped to look briefly at St. Isaac's which sits opposite the Bronze Horseman before getting back on the bus to continue our tour. The next stop took us to the Peter Paul Fortress and Cathedral. This was the first western style church many Russians would have ever seen. The renaissance styling and of course the presence of a clock make it all very strange to any Russian of the time, but again, it was Peter's wish. Inside the cathedral are the sarcophagi of ALL the Russian Tsars from Peter the Great on. We then exited the church and looked out over the water before heading to the House of Political Prisoners.
The House of Political Prisoners was a bit of a switch since it was the newest building we stopped at so far. Being built in 1927, it was used not to house enemies of the communist regime, but rather those people who had been imprisoned for championing communism prior to the 1917 revolt. This was, quite literally the first communal building in the world.
The next stop was a beautiful church called the Church of the Spilled Blood (not the nicest name but certainly a pretty place.) And then on to lunch.
In the afternoon we took a walking tour of Dostoevky's Russia and saw not only where he lived but the places mentioned in Crime and Punishment. This was a real treat because I could suddenly picture the scenes more clearly. Almost as if when you see a movie first and then read the book, the characters in the book appear to be the actors from the film, seeing the area in which Dostoevsky wrote gave a hard context to the novel. We even got to walk in Roskalnikov's footsteps as he plotted the murder of the pawn broker.
Our final stop of the day was the St. Nicholas Cathedral, a Russian orthodox church.
So:
November 2
We began our first full day in St. Petersburg on the bus driving up Nievsky Prospect to the statue of Peter the Great given to him by Catharine the Great. This statue, called the Bronze Horsemen, represents Peter astride a large and wildly lunging horse. The horse, meant to represent Russia, is being controlled, only just barely, by the might Peter with his one hand while his right hand gestures towards the horizon. Peter, dressed in Roman clothing and a laurel looks solemnly to the west. This is an important statue in many ways. St. Petersburg was the creation of Peter the Great. He, as a young man, became the first Tsar to ever leave Russia. He chose to travel and study in the west, in Europe. And it was a result of these travels that he became a bit westernized. He returned to Moscow with a mustache instead of the traditional full beard and instantly ordered that all Russian men shave off their beards. He liked things to match the rest of Europe and as such, went to war with Sweden (I think, could be Finland) in order to capture a pathway to the west. Previously, Russia had no western seaport, so after taking this area of swampy land, Peter had it drained, and built St. Petersburg in it's place. The next step was to move the capital here, where he could always be closer to the western world he held so dear. IT is for these reasons the imagery on the statue becomes western in detail: the roman clothes, the non-Cyrillic inscription on one side, and of course the overall image of Peter riding a wild horse into the west. All in all a pretty impressive statue that has been written about many times, most famously, however, in Pushkin's poem The Bronze Horseman. Worth the read.
We stopped to look briefly at St. Isaac's which sits opposite the Bronze Horseman before getting back on the bus to continue our tour. The next stop took us to the Peter Paul Fortress and Cathedral. This was the first western style church many Russians would have ever seen. The renaissance styling and of course the presence of a clock make it all very strange to any Russian of the time, but again, it was Peter's wish. Inside the cathedral are the sarcophagi of ALL the Russian Tsars from Peter the Great on. We then exited the church and looked out over the water before heading to the House of Political Prisoners.
The House of Political Prisoners was a bit of a switch since it was the newest building we stopped at so far. Being built in 1927, it was used not to house enemies of the communist regime, but rather those people who had been imprisoned for championing communism prior to the 1917 revolt. This was, quite literally the first communal building in the world.
The next stop was a beautiful church called the Church of the Spilled Blood (not the nicest name but certainly a pretty place.) And then on to lunch.
In the afternoon we took a walking tour of Dostoevky's Russia and saw not only where he lived but the places mentioned in Crime and Punishment. This was a real treat because I could suddenly picture the scenes more clearly. Almost as if when you see a movie first and then read the book, the characters in the book appear to be the actors from the film, seeing the area in which Dostoevsky wrote gave a hard context to the novel. We even got to walk in Roskalnikov's footsteps as he plotted the murder of the pawn broker.
Our final stop of the day was the St. Nicholas Cathedral, a Russian orthodox church.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
St. Petersburg: Day 1
Well, today went a lot better than yesterday if for no other reason than I was at the right place at the right time. It is true, that while the dry run yesterday went off without a hitch, today was not so lucky, I did forget to wear my boots. So that being the only problem, I'll take it.
We landed in St. Petersburg after an easy 2 hour flight from Copenhagen and immediately got onto our tour bus. We drove around a bit and got some bearings while Jon, our professor and tour guide, gave us interesting tidbits about St. Petersburg and how to operate within it. There are certain things, he says, to avoid. For instance, there is something called the Leningrad Amoeba. This is a little bugger that lives in the water and will make your life a living hell if you drink the tap water. So bottled water/vodka only. He also told us that to get a ride around town you just hold out your arm and someone will pick you up. You negotiate a price with them (generally not more than 200 rubles or 7 bucks) and you go where you need to. He said at no times to get into any car that says "officially licensed taxi" or anything of that sort. He said that taxi's as we know them are here to rip you off. And if you see a meter just walk away. Kind of counter-intuitive but hey, it's Russia.
After driving for a bit and stopping off at Moscow Square to look at one of the few remaining statues of Lenin, we headed to the hotel where we had a couple of hours to ourselves. I took the time to take a much needed nap and woke up in time to meet everyone for dinner.
Dinner, as you will see in the pictures, was a standard Russian meal. Heavy good food. Jon taught us all the proper way to drink vodka whilst in Russia which is to say you never sip it and it must be drank in one shot. Always with food and never, under no circumstances, is it to be mixed with anything. They measure vodka here, not on taste as we tend to do in America, but instead on the purity of the spirit. What this means is that they judge a vodka by how little a hang over you get from it. My kind of town.
Anyway, dinner was great, good food, fine conversation and I am exhausted. It is only 10 here which means 8 in Denmark, but I am ready for bed.
Tomorrow we see St. Petersburg/Stalingrad/Leningrad/St. Petersburg!
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