St. Petersburg....Amsterdam on the Neva

Founded by Peter the Great in 1703, St. Petersburg reflects Peter's desire to move Russia to the west, both literally and psychologically.  A low-rise city, the central area was constructed along man-made canals, reflecting those that Peter had seen during his travels and escapades in Europe, especially Amsterdam.  The photos below are in order in which they were taken, and so may appear a bit jumbled.  However, if I spent the time putting them in  better sequence, I'd never get them posted.  So...we are now in St. Petersburg, Russia.

Tiny but very quiet, clean, functional hotel room.  I heard from her friends that Chantal invested much time and energy into finding a place that fit my needs...and pocket book.  Thank you, my dear!!!!

View from my window.  Anyone wish to sound out the Russian?

Interior of Kazansckiy Sobor ... Cathedral of Our Lady of Kazan.  Chantal was accustomed to speaking Russian, especially when referring to places, but I did finally realize that sobor is church or cathedral.  Russian Orthodox churches are truly richly decorated. 

The three mousketeers, with Chantal on the left.  Notice that in this sobor, we're covering our heads, a requirement in active churches.  Churches which are museums only do not require head coverings.

Moi and my dear, patient, knowledgeable guide.  Thanks to cousin Suzanne for my head covering.

Walking from Kazansckiy Sobor to our canal tour.

Chantal, her classmates, and instructors celebrated successful completion of their year studying Russian in St. Petersburg with a canal cruise, just for this group.  For most of them, this time on the canal was not their first, but for me.....I was thrilled!

Sitting next to one of Chantal's good friends.  The three mousketeers made it a point to speak Russia when together, even outside the classroom and the school.  They're amazing young women.

A beautiful, sunny day....and me with no sunscreen or hat, so I'm draping my scarf to protect my face from the sun.  I burn easily.

No safety drill on this vessel, though it would not have helped me, as it would have been in Russian.

Toasting their accomplishments with champagne.  Even I was allowed to imbibe, though my accomplishment was merely being there.

Apartment building along the canal.  I was told that unprepossessing exteriors often belie what's inside.  In Russia, one cannot judge a book by its cover.

Momentarily, I was transported to Europe, which was Peter's intent.

I love seeing her so happy.

Oooohhhhh......under a bridge.

Trinity Cathedral

Although it is much more obvious in a photo, it took me some moments to realize that this building has a 'skin' while the building is being renovated.  Such a clever idea!

Monument to Nikolai I...Both St. Petersburg and Moscow are replete with monuments, many of them with famous men on horseback.  I think Chantal knew all of them!

Peaceful

Each student in the language program also had a tutor.  Olga, in the striped shirt, was a very-well liked and respected tutor, so the three mouseketeers had a small gift of chocolates, and a bottle each of hard apple cider and hard pear cider.  After the canal cruise, we ambled over to the Field of Mars, a large park in St. Petersburg.  I was overdressed for the warm, beautiful day, though found it delightful to be with these young women.  I also had only a sip of the hard stuff, though both were delicious.  And Russia  chocolate...to die for!!   Olga lives in a room within an apartment.  The room was bought by her grandparents, and can be handed down as property just as we would leave a house to our own children.

Will check with Chantal for the name of this sobor.

Decoration on a bridge which we went under on the canal.

I think that's the Church on the Spilled Blood in the distance.  It seems to be everywhere!  Notice that ON spilled blood.  We didn't explore it, but honestly, I can tour only so many churches....

Taking in the sun, a welcome reprieve after a long, cold, dark winter. 

My hotel room was on the fourth floor, so I walked down the stairs rather than taking the lift.  A bit of green on the landing.

Yes, I'm in Russia......

Yes, it's a MALL!!!!  I needed lighter weight tops, so Chantal walked me to the mall, gave me a lesson in exchange rates, which I wrote down, then joined her friends elsewhere.  

The box of the Tsars at the Mariinsky Theater, where I will soon be enthralled by a stunning performance of Swan Lake.

A side box at the Mariinsky.

Lushly gold and ornate....the theater, not me.

Not a ballerina..... though lovely.

Orchestra pit.

As with American theater-goers, Russian dress runs the gamut from jeans to beautiful evening gowns. 

In Russia, it is acceptable to take even flash photographs during the performance, although I was both too intimated by my surroundings and too engaged in the performance to do so.

Chantal had gotten us center seats, third row.  I resented even having to blink, lest I miss a spectacular jette or plie.  Had we been able to, I would have gone again...and again...even if we'd had to sit just under the roof.  Stunning, breathtaking, awesome.... I am without words.

Statue of the poet Nekrasov.  One of many statues in St. Petersburg (most of which Chantal identified).  I took the photo because the statue was near  Chantal's abode and my hotel.

Higher education.

Where Chantal studied in St. Petersburg.  It's right next to the set of buildings in the photo just above.

This photo is supposed to be below the next one, but it refuses to go there.  Somewhere in St. Pete is a statue of a rearing horse that balances only on its tail.  We thought it was this one, hence the photo...but obviously it isn't.

The Bronze Horseman, a monument to Peter the Great and inspiration for a poem by Pushkin.  Chantal reeled off all this information, off the top of her head, while I link to wikipedia to refresh my own memory.  She was a remarkable guide.

I was most a most frustrating tourist for Chantal, as I kept wandering away from history, trying to experience culture and people.  While she was pointing out the Bronze Horsesman, I was off trying to get a good photo of this bride.  Chantal was most disgusted with me, ignoring history for brides!! And, my wandering off gave her some cause for concern, as I knew no Russian and she felt responsible for me.  How strange to be 63 and in the hands of a 23 year old.  Yet I was.  And good hands they were.

And I wandered toward this very colorful play ground, again ignoring history.  I think I flunked Tourism 101!

Russia is far from user friendly for those with disabilities.  While this sign, overlaid with Braille, might seem to disprove that; unfortunately, it is behind a railing that is beyond the reach of any human being who isn't 7 feet tall.   Not useful at all.

Another church.  Lots of famous dead people buried there.  Ornate.  Gilded.

A peaceful scene within a courtyard, although I didn't see as many bicyclists as in Helsinki.

Art work at the end of fourth floor corridor at my hotel.  Which Lennon/Lenin is it?

Couldn't resist, though we refused to eat there.  However, we used the Mickey D bathrooms in Moscow.  I'm not too proud for that!!!!

Can you sound out the letters?

The Hermitage is truly fabulous....and huge.  It is famous for its collection of Impression paintings, which I didn't want to spend time viewing, as I've seen similar art and can do so again.  I wanted to see what I'd not be able to see again, including the Throne Room created for Tsar Nicholas I.  A bit overdone for my tastes, but then, so are most palaces, and the Hermitage is the Winter Palace of the Romanovs.  I wanted to see the rooms in which the royal family actually lived, but there were only two that were open, and they were...overdone.  I have few photos since that required a photo ticket, so this photo and any others in the Hermitage are....illegal.

View across the square of the statue on top of the Imperial General Staff Building.  I'm sure this aggregation of figures, Romans with horses and some winged personage,  represents battle, war, victory for us, defeat of them....

The building on which the above figures rest, across the square from the Hermitage.  Note the tour buses.  That's about the only way that non-Russian speakers can see Russia.  I was a very, very fortunate exception, as I had my personal, native speaking tour guide with me.

Wandering through the Hermitage, even with a map, was...confounding.  I would push Chantal to ask directions from one of the room guards, which she would eventually do after I threatened to ask myself which she definitely did not want me to do, as it would engender extreme embarrassment for her if it became apparent we were...foreign tourists...although, honestly, I look exactly like a retired American school teacher.   Anyway, I heard wonderful voices lilting through the museum so followed my nose....err, ears to this a capella sextet.  Apparently, groups are allowed to perform in certain public places and to sell their CDs.  We saw another such group in a church in Moscow.  Now, back to what I saw at the Hermitage.

Intricately inlaid floors, with no two patterns alike.  Chantal about had a heart attack while simultaneously dying of mortification when I squatted down to run my fingers over several to determine texture.  In addition to drawing attention to myself (a definite nono, Russians don't touch the floor or street with their hands.) She was much happier when we headed to the basement so that I could look at the prehistoric exhibits....until she had to translate the exhibit information.  Her Russian is excellent, but upon occasion and not surprisingly, specialized vocabulary can challenge even the best.  Mummified horse, burial barrens, and ancient carpets did not defeat her, though she was tired upon departure.  The basement lacked the beautiful floors of the more popular upper floors, but we spent a happy afternoon poking around.

Fresh food is one of the delights of Russia.  This delicious salad awaited us at my hotel.  Tomorrow we take an early train to Moscow.