Monday, June 06, 2005
St. Petersburg, day four
In the morning I had to do some errands. I went to the bank to exchange some money (the clerk was one of the most beautiful women I encountered on this trip, a platinum blonde wearing an iridiscent black suit). Then I bought some gifts and knickknacks at the large souvenir market next to the Church on Spilled Blood. This was one of the most relaxing mornings of my trip.
Catherine Palace at Tsarskoe Selo
At midday I went to Tsarskoe Selo (more commonly known as Pushkin), a town thirty minutes away from the city. A major tourist destination, it is the home of the famous Catherine Palace. To get there you have to take the metro and transfer to a marshrutka. Marshrutkas are the most convenient way to get anywhere out of the city.
Ornaments on facade
I arrived at Pushkin, and before I got to the palace I passed by a souvenir market, where prices were, to my chagrin, 25% lower than in the city. I hoped seeing the palatial splendor would take my mind off saving a few bucks, but I was barred from entering; the palace was reserved for tour groups until 4 P.M. The weather was pleasant, though, so I took the opportunity to walk in the spacious park that surrounds the palace. The grounds are less formal and less crowded than Peterhof's. I liked this park a lot. There are still some structures in the park that need restoration, but you could argue that these ruins add to its charm.
Lilac blooms everywhere in St. Petersburg in the summer
At 3:45 I stepped in a growing line for entry into the palace. I waited until 4:30 before I was let in. The wait, though, was worthwhile. The interior of the palace is much more lavishly decorated than Peterhof (and still under restoration after being gutted during World War II). The first room that impressed me featured red mineral columns. The next room had columns of green. Then came the crown jewel, the so-called Amber Room. All four walls are covered in stone-sized pieces of amber, all tightly fitting together like a mosaic. This room is actually a reconstruction, but nonetheless it was one of the most amazing sights of my trip. I only wish I had more time to spend inside—it was so crowded that it was impossible to study the craftsmanship. I wouldn't mind visiting this palace with a tour group during the reserved hours if it means facing smaller crowds.
When I got back to St. Petersburg (on the marshrutka one of the city's few friendly and outgoing citizens helped me find my way) I stopped by the supermarket and bought a can of kvas. Kvas is a sweet drink made from fermented beets and dark bread. It is carbonated and slightly alcoholic. I like it—it tastes like cider. Genuine kvas is sold on the street from tanks, but I couldn't find any such stands in the city.
Lake next to the palace. The girl in the foreground is holding dandelions.
In the evening I met Lena. We chatted at a cafe near my hostel. She was looking for a summer job, and she spent the whole day at a restaurant, watching the operations and deciding if she wanted to work there. This was a cut above some other jobs she had heard about. One company called her and asked if she was interested in becoming an administrative assistant, but instead of inquiring about her experience or skills, they wanted to know her physical measurements! Lena's ideal job would have been web design, but she could not find any short-term positions.
It was getting late, and I had to go to the bus station to catch my ride to Tallinn. But first, I went to the supermarket to buy a bottle of vodka. Lena came along as well, more for moral support than to give advice about selecting a brand (she doesn't drink vodka). As I was trying to decide on a bottle and asking Lena to help translate, two hefty ladies nearby shouted, "You speak English!" Before they spoke I was fairly certain they were American, by their appearance and their loud laughter, but their Texan twang cleared any doubt. They asked me if I could help them decide between two brands, but I could not. Then they asked Lena, but she replied that she didn't know. The women must have interpreted her answer as meaning "I can't speak English", because they asked her again, but this time in a blaring voice, drawn-out syllables and ugly-American sign language. (Lena responded, "I understood you the first time.") I hurried up and chose Russian Standard Platinum (the most expensive vodka in the store). I got in line to pay for it, and I looked back at the Texans; each was holding an armful of 200 ml bottles.
Lena and I learning how to focus the camera
Lena cheerfully accompanied me to the bus station. Even though I didn't get to spend much time with her in St. Petersburg, I was really glad to have her company. We said a warm goodbye, and in a short time I was back on the road. The trip to Tallinn took about seven hours. At border control, I talked to an Englishman who had just graduated from university. He was pleasant, but after a while our conversation took a turn for the weirder. He asked gingerly, "I don't mean to be rude, but isn't San Francisco a...um...happy city?" This reminded me of one of the people I met in Moscow, Agatha, and her frustration with the vodka-drinking Russian stereotype. I gave a curt reply. "Why, are you thinking of going there?"
