Day 16 & 17 - Ekaterinburg - I wish I could bottle my experience

ooh it's cold

Two days together again – afraid no wi-fi yesterday

Day 16

4,039 Miles GMT +6hrs Temp -22 

I’ve had a quiet day today, the furthest I’ve been is the Banya – to dry the washing, don’t get excited.

Lena and Anya have been into the city this morning, but I stayed here to give my face a rest from the cold. 

I’ve not mentioned the weather so far. What’s it like at –20? I’m using total sun block on my face to stop the glare from the snow burning my face, as well as stopping my balaclava from freezing to my face. I’ve been getting through one stick of lipsalve a day to stop my mouth freezing shut. I had been wearing sunglasses up to Perm for the glare but then I had to swap to snow goggles, as the wind was making my eyes water and then freeze. I can only talk outside without covering my face for a couple of sentences, as it feels like I’m chewing and swallowing razor blades. Apart from that I’m fine, my various layers of thermal clothing are keeping the rest of me warm.

Galina came round this afternoon and has been just a joy to behold.  She went through all of the photos very carefully, asking Lena lots of questions. I have a few on my laptop from home of Tynemouth and northern England, so I showed Galina those too. She was fascinated by the sea and beach. She asked me what it felt like to stand on sand, which took a bit of doing, I’ve not thought it about it before. 

I made shepherd’s pie and cherry crumble, with some of the bottled cherries, form the orchard, carefully shadowed by Galina, who asked Lena to write down the recipe for the crumble. She's going to entertain her friends with "continental" food. We offered to take her home after dinner tonight, but Galina was having none of it. “I’ve been coming here for over 70 years, save your energy, my feet know the way home.”

Lena as written about her experience of growing up in closed city during the Soviet era:

I was nervous about bringing Gail here to the Dacha. I have not shared this place with anyone out side of my family. That summarizes my suspicious nature and this is where I was taught to be suspicious. Not to trust anyone outside of my own family.

I was suspicious of the blog too but maybe this is true Glasnost (openness).

I was born in this city. We did not live here in this Dacha full time, this was our escape from the grey city of factories and everything Soviet. We had an apartment that none of us liked, but that is where we were allocated to live. Our previous family home which had also been built by my ancestors was demolished along with others to make way for concrete apartments. This place is far enough out of town not to be disturbed.

From Easter to September my mother would see us off to school and then come here and we would come here after school for a few hours. On Fridays we would stay here for most weekends.  In winter we came for the day occasionally, as it can become inaccessible in bad Siberian winter (bad Siberian weather is beyond –30)

The city in 1970's and 1980's was more like a military camp than a city. The parks and playgrounds had tanks and rockets in. We had lessons at school in first aid and what to do if the city was attacked. There were bomb shelters all around. Looking back the whole city was a bomb. If there had been a war and ours had been hit no amount of shelters would have saved anyone. There was a system of sirens which would have been used in the event of an attack. They were so loud. Most times we were warned it was a drill but sometimes there was no warning. It was frightening to be child then. The threat of the cold war felt very real, even though my mother did her best to reassure us it would not happen. My father was in the army so not home much, not that it mattered he live by my mothers Manifesto not the party one.

In 1979 there were a lot of deaths in the city suddenly in one week. We were told it was food poisoning. My mother did not believe it. She moved us here for a few weeks until there were no more. She was afraid the water was poisoned in the city and we have a well close to here. Years later I found out she was partly right. It was not the food, it had been an anthrax leak from a chemical plant. If the wind had been blowing in a different direction things would have been very much worse. 

When I left Yekaterinburg in 1982 to study and go to the officers academy, I swapped one closed city for another. I was fortunate to have that opportunity. I had friends at school who wanted it too but they were not accepted. The long nights of reading and learning with my mother helped me. They didn’t have that opportunity. Their parents were not educated and worked in factories.

I was at the academy for four years where I studied Russian history and literature and I was trained to be an officer.

I come back here when I can, this is my home. It is still my escape although last time was almost two years ago.  Galina takes care of the Dacha for me when I am elsewhere. Coming back here puts me back in touch with myself. It reminds me of where I came from and the journey I started when I left. I have seen lots of things in that time, some good some not so good. There have been a lot of changes in Russia, but not enough for most people and some too late for others.

I would love the personal freedoms that my friend Gail has, but I would rather wait for them than pay for them with other peoples dreams. There are still closed cities today. The end of the Soviet regime did not end all Soviet practises in Russia.

The dog sledders: Nicholai, Lena, Oleg, Pavel, Grigor, Me, Urie

Convoy

Coffee break

Day 17 - Off to the Urals for some snow fun

We were up early and on a local train before 7am this morning. We have arrived at Volchika – Wolf Mountain, which is one of the many winter sports resorts in the Urals. We’ve spent today on a Dog sledding trip, along with a few others. It was fabulous. Tonight I know where Wolf Mountain gets its name from, we heard them calling. It is an astonishing sound floating in the night air. 

Night approaches and so do the wolves

Day 14 & 15 - Ekaterinburg - Stepping back in time

 

Welcome to Ekaterinburg

4,039 Miles GMT +6hrs  Temp -9 

Our journey to Ekaterinburg was splendid, the landscape through the Ural mountain range with pine forests and small villages of wooden houses was very beautiful. I spent most of the journey glued to the window watching Russia go by and daylight disappear into one of the starriest skies I’ve ever seen.

The first village in Asia

We’re staying at Lena’s family ‘Dacha’, which she had kept as a surprise. The Dacha is a Russian institution that dates back to the mid 18th century, essentially a holiday home, ranging greatly in size and stature, but always with a garden that is used to grow food. 

When we arrived in Ekaterinburg we left out luggage at the station to go shopping at the market and Supermarket. No ‘buyski one get oneski free’ here or Tesco. I recognised some of the labels, as it’s just the use of cyrillic writing that differentiates some of the items from home, although some of the labelling is quite hilarious. Laden like pit ponies with shopping and luggage we took two buses and then had to walk about three miles down a snowy track, but finally we arrived at the Dacha. 

Google maps failed here

 It took a little while to warm the place up, with a wood fire and wood burning stove. There is electricity via a generator, but we just used candles and oil lamps. It’s delightful here. I wouldn’t swap this for unlimited time in the best hotel in Russia. It’s like finding the real Russia and stepping into a Chekhov play. A bit like a Russian version of Beamish. When we finally had dinner on the stove, Lena gave me a guided tour and told me about her family and the history in the Dacha. The snow was blowing against the windows of the wooden cabin, built by Lena’s great great grandfather in 1800’s. Family pictures of her ancestors, who have mostly made the furnishings in the house, the men making the furniture and the women having made the rugs, quilts and cushions. In a wardrobe, her mothers wedding dress, and her grandfathers boots. In the living room, a small Russian orthodox shrine, rocking chairs by the fire, a chess set made by her grandfather, along with old family military awards and more family photos. 

The kitchen

 

 I fell asleep while I was writing this last night, so you’re getting a double edition today, as I’m finding the time zone changes confusing and don’t think I can write this a day behind where I am. I get confused enough has it is.

I woke up early this morning, got properly dressed this time, to see the outside of the Dacha and the garden as it was too dark last night. The garden is covered in snow, it stands in a small orchard of cherry and apple trees with a garden on the other side about the size of two bowling greens.

An English breakfast followed, which was well received. I asked Lena about the other small building, which I thought was a tool shed. “No that’s the Banya, the sauna. The tradition is to go in there and heat yourself to sweating point, then beat yourself with willow or oak twigs to get the circulation going, before dowsing yourself in the snow or cold pool or river, repeating the whole process several times times. All part of the experience Gail” – laughing her head off. – “Bugger off!” my reply.

The Banya

We’ve had a visitor today, Lena’s Aunt Galina. We gave her some of the M & S Goodies, shortbread and marmalade, which she seemed genuinely delighted with. She talked almost non-stop for an hour through Lena, asking me questions about England and my family and Anya about hers, until finally Lena asked her to take a breath, she chuckled and said she would go and sort out lunch. As we ate she asked if I liked the dacha, and I told her I thought it was beautiful, and I felt very privileged to see it. It was just a shame it wasn’t spring or summer to see the garden and orchard. Lena told Galina I used to be a gardener. Well that was it, out with the vodka, I was hugged to near suffocation, followed by an offer of adoption :)

After lunch we cleared the table and Galina brought out photo albums, some of the photos went back to the 1920’s. The albums are effectively a chronicle of the Dacha and the family. It was fascinating to be guided through them by Galina and Lena. The women were dressed just like northern fish wives, right up until the 1960’s, with long skirts, long aprons and headscarves, working away in among rows of beans or up ladders picking fruit. The men leaning on hoes and forks smoking pipes. It took me back to my grandparent’s allotment, all those years ago, and Galina was very interested to hear about it. 

Galina

We’ve spent the whole day with Galina and her lovely cat Ivana, who she carried here in her shopping bag. She told me stories of the good old days and the bad old days through Lena and Anya. Galina is 79, she left school at 16 and became a nurse. She’s never left Ekaterinburg, she said by the time she could, it was too late. She brought out some of the postcards that Lena has sent her, and said that she had seen some of Russia through them.

Galina is going to return tomorrow, I’m going to cook something English for her, as she was curious about what we eat, and we’re going to show her the photos that I’ve taken so far on the trip, as she would really like to see them.

We’re going to stay here for a few days. The trip has been fabulous but it’s been quite relentless, we’re all ready to slow down a little and re-charge our batteries and this is the perfect place.

Day 13 - Perm - echoes of the soviet past remain

Gulag Memorial, Perm

3,767 Miles  GMT  +4  Temp -19

Arrived here this morning just after 8am. The station is on the outskirts of the town, the buses were packed, so we put our luggage into lockers at the station and walked as we are only here for a few hours.

Perm, formerly known as ‘Molotov’, after the man who invented the petrol cocktail. In Soviet times this too was a restricted city, even to non-resident Russian citizens, and did not appear on any maps. Military staff weren't allowed to leave the city either whilst they were serving, for fear of revealing secrets. This was due to an enormous tank/cannon/rocket making factory complex located in the city. 

It’s a grey city, lots of Soviet concrete and still has non-working military hardware made then displayed on streets like an out of date showroom. 

These are parked next to a school

This was also the home of Perm-36, a notorious Gulag, which started life in the Stalin era during the 1930's continuing to operate until 1987.  It was during the Stalin era Siberia became synonymous with death. The Gulag population grew from approx 30,000 in 1928 to eight million in 1938. Prisoners were underfed, mistreated and literally worked to death; the average life expectancy was under two years, and 90% of inmates didn’t come out alive. Boris Yeltsin announced the release of Russia’s last 10 political prisoners from a camp near Perm in 1992. That’s not to say there aren’t any no of course, they probably started picking them back up the next week.

Perm –36 is now a museum, I didn’t feel the need to visit it, given the experience of the KGB museum in Vilnius. 

This all paints a very grey picture of Perm, but like so many of the formerly closed cities dependent on the manufacture of military equipment, the last decade has been a time of massive change, not only because the industry was drastically reduced or in some cases ceased, but also because the cities were opened, and people had no idea what lay outside. Lena has very strong feelings about how these cities were treated, and the impact on the citizens of those cities. I'm sure she will write something about it at some point.

I presumed that closed citi were a thing of the past, but I akse yelena to confim it..........she whistled and looked at the ceiling......I guess that's a no then.

We did visit two of the remaining three museums in Perm. The first being the Perm State Art Gallery, which houses a renowned collection of primitively carved religious icons dating back to the 17th century. Alas no photos allowed, but they do have a website in English

The second was small, but perfectly formed and dedicated to Sergei Diaghilev, the legendary ballet and opera impresario, whose family originated from Perm. I told Lena when we came out that they had omitted one small detail in the museum – he was gay. Lena nearly wet herself laughing at the thought of a museum dedicated to a gay person in such a repressive city. 

 

We will shortly have a six hour journey to Ekaterinburg, which will take us over the border from Europe into Asia, as well as taking us into the Ural Mountains and western edge of Siberia.

when was the last time your train was cleaned in England?

 Life on the train is quite pleasant, and better than the UK. We've paid 'a commission' on each train to mainatin our own compartment, but that seems a small prie to pay.  The trains are clean and warm, and the restaurant cars have a baic menu but offer good value food and a changeo scenery. 

This train is bound for Beijing, via Ulan Bator, so we have a Mongolian style restaurant

Day 12 - Niznhy Novgorod - Arzamas - Niznhy Novgorod, the real Russia

The wonderful women of Niznhy

3,286 Miles GMT +4 Temp -16

If we had gone for the rip off charter train we could no doubt press a buzzer for morning coffee, but we didn’t. I lost the consequent coin toss, so swapped my sleeping bag for my boots. Lena and Anya querying I dare go down the carriage to the hot water boiler before getting dressed. I don't do formal before caffeine, just fur hat, tartan pyjamas and thermals – you can take the girl out of North Shields but …………

The view from the Nizhny Kremlin

We left the train at Niznhy Novgorod Russia's 4th largest city, formerly know as 'Gorky' and a closed city until 1990. It was so secret they didn't publish street maps inside Russia until 1973. It’s a major centre for manufacturing, however it does have a Kremlin, a museum to famous son, writer Maxim Gorky, as well as one to Andrei Sakharov, the scientist who was exiled to the city for speaking against the Soviet regime, so a few hours was fine. Both museums were interesting, but unfortunately no photos allowed inside. 

There is a town not too far from here, Sarov, known as Arzamas-16 between 1946-1991, which is still closed to foreigners, as it remains the base for nuclear development, know as ‘Los Aramoz’, as it is twinned with Los Alamos in New Mexico, which is the American centre for Nuclear research.

From Nizhny we took a local train to Arzamas, (the non-nuclear town), We came across a small art studio. We met Artem the artist, who was interesting, charming and very talented. He invited us to stay for coffee as he is learning English. We asked if there was anything to do or see in the town as we had an hour or two to spare, he told us about the mines and caves on the edge of the town and drew us a map.

Artem working in his studio

Yelena in the mines ........shades of Tomb Raider, Lara Crofski?

We found the mines and caves, 100 rubles each got us hard hats and head torches, Victor switched on the lights and told use to stay on the lit path. No Health and Safety here then. It was amazing inside, there are lots of different mines in the Ural area as it is rich in lots of different minerals and metals.

Back in Niznhy we’ve been to a fantastic market, which has a lot of small stalls where local women sell their own produce. Bottled, pickled, baked, you name it they do it, so we have a picnic for dinner tonight on the train. Lena asked one of the ladies, another Yelena, if she could recommend somewhere for a late lunch and she sent us to café where her sister was the cook, “tell her I sent you”. We did and ‘Katya’ refuelled us with a mountain of ‘Plov’, a Russian Pilaf, followed by dried apple and apricots stewed in honey and vodka. The total bill was less than £5, so well left a good tip. 

Niznhy Station mural

Lena has told me wages and the cost of living outside of St Petersburg and Moscow are low. Most Russians will have a second job, or have some sort of way of supplementing their income – ‘commissions’ for the train staff and anyone else who offers a service. Around the stations women stand on the platforms selling food. In the summer they also sell souvenirs, but not a Matryoshka doll in sight today. 

Niznhy Cathedral

We are currently sitting in a bar near the main station, waiting for our next train to Perm and should arrive there tomorrow in time for breakfast. Beer is cheap, jukebox hilarious and you can buy Radish flavoured crisps.

I am not finding the weather too difficult, but I expect it to get a lot colder than it is at present. Sun cream and sunglasses are the order of the day outside, as the glare and the wind are worse than the cold.

Pics in the gallery are now updated.

Day 11 – Goodbye Moscow, Hello Trans-Siberian

To Infinity and beyond.........

2,892 Miles GMT +4 Temp -15

Today we've done the Cosmonaut museum, Victory Park the major Russian War memorial and Novodevichy convent, which is a world heritage site. They are all quite stunning in their own ways. The Cosmonaut museum is housed in a fairly small building, compared to the sculpture of a rocket tipped 110 metre stream of glistening titanium..........I want one, it's just so beautiful. As is the statue and column to Yuri Gagarin, which also glistens in the winter light, like a Soviet style Superman.

The war memorial is on a hill 'Poklonnaya Gora' literally Worshipful Submission Hill'. There are numerous memorials within the area known as Victory Park. The main building contains two halls. The first 'the Hall of Glory', which is embellished with the relief’s of the 12 hero cities on the walls, together with the names of 11,717 participants of the war who were awarded the honorary title 'Hero of the Soviet Union'. The award was the highest distinction in the Soviet Union, awarded for heroic feats in service to the Soviet State. The 'Hall of Remembrance' below hold the books of remembrance with the names of more than 26 million Soviet war dead. Outside a large and very striking sculpture of the victims of the Holocaust. 

As we walked back down there were maybe 20-30 people laying flowers at the various memorials, but I also saw people appearing the write on the memorials, so I asked Lena what they were doing. She took me over to one of them and showed me a box of chalk, "the Russian custom is to take a piece of chalk and whiten the name of the person, to show they aren't forgotten". 

We walked to Novodovichy, probably about 3 miles, which in the snow, that at times reached our knees, made it feel a lot longer. It was a pleasant walk, a lot of it by the river Mockba, well away from yesterdays madness. The monastery was founded in 1524, and remains virtually intact since the 17th century. Its history is long and chequered but very interesting. The convent was closed in 1922 by the Bolsheviks and turned into the Museum of Women's Emancipation. Nuns finally returned to the convent in 1994. The buildings are all beautiful and it's position within it's boundary walls on a small hill by the river is very picturesque. The cemetery adjacent to the convent is the resting place of many notable Russians, including Chekhov, Prokofiev and Shostakovich.


Moscow, I couldn't recommend it to anyone. I didn't feel safe or at ease - pavement rage, metro rage, queue rage, pick pockets - we've experienced it all. We are both happy to leave it behind.


We've finally boarded the Trans-Siberian Train - Woohoo!

Alina, our carriage attendant has brought our bedding and informed us where we can get hot water for drinks. She asked where we were getting off, checked our tickets and then asked if we wanted to keep the carriage to ourselves or if we are happy to share, as she thumbs her way through a roll of Ruble notes. Lena takes the not so subtle hint, and basically pays the required bribe, although Alina would, like all good Russian souls, call it commission. Well let's face it £4 isn't going to break the bank and if it means we don't have to share with pick-pockets or a mad Muscovite, then it's money well spent. 

The commission was obviously well received as she then digs in a pocket and hands Lena a wad of paper before leaving. I must have had a quizzical look on my face as Lena enlightens me - "For the bottom, toilet paper", before handing it to me. For the Russian bottom matey, you could strip floorboards with that. "You have to wipe bottom" Lena laughs. I dig in my bag and produce a roll of Russian Andrex. Anya laughed......"No spare toilet in there though" and laughs more. Suddenly the practical realities of this trip hit home when I go and inspect 'the facilities'. Yes they are very basic..........I am so happy I am not going to be on this train when it's crowded in the height of summer.

We are on route to Niznhy Novgorod. Full details tomorrow and an updated photo gallery.

Day 10 - Moscow, unpleasant with a bitter after taste, just like vodka

Bent Moscow Coppers

2,892 Miles GMT +4 hours Temp -10

Arriving in Moscow to be greeted by temperatures of -10 was bit of a shock after a pleasant evenings sleep on the train which was heated to 20c. Unfortunately it wasn't the only shock Moscow had in store for us.

Between leaving the train, travelling out to the apartment on the metro and returning to central Moscow, my travel documents are checked eleven times. After the 4th check Lena tells me there is something not right and that she thinks Moscow must be on some kind of security alert, there are too many policemen around. She walks ahead of us to avoid any problems. By the time we get to the Kremlin I'm starting to spot 'the men in black', they are just that bit more smartly dressed on the whole, and the tell tale ear-piece confirms their identity. I won't bore you with the process of gaining entry to the Kremlin/Red Square area, it's lengthy and expensive, should suffice. So much for socialism.

Changing the guard

St Basil's Cathedral is beautiful and much larger than I imagined. The history of the building is interesting, as is the design, but rather than write them myself I'm putting links into the names, so you can read them if you want to.

St Basils

Red Square and the actual Kremlin walls are impressive, as is Lenin's Tomb, but we didn't go in, there was a queue and I wasn't that keen on seeing an embalmed person, famous or not.

Interior of St Basils

From there we make our way to the Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts, which houses some major collections of Western Art, followed by the Tretyakov Gallery, which is probably the best collection of Russian art in the World.

Unfortunate Russian buisness name - the Russian T is an R

We also ventured onto the Arbat, one of the oldest streets in Moscow, dating back to the 1550's, which has the distinction of being the first pedestrian zone in Russia. Today it is more or less a tourist trap - and was quite simply a mistake………pass the vodka.

Phones for you Comrades

Anya and I were both fined approx £40 for taking photos in the Metro - which is not illegal the poliecemen are just bent and if you don't pay they wil get you for something else.

Today has been really hard work and I've found a lot of it quite scary and annoying. Everywhere with the exception of the Pushkin has been fraught because of security, attempted and successful theft, pressure selling of fake goods, attempts to lure us into various scams, or being pushed and jostled on public transport to a degree that beggars belief.

Finding someone else's hand in your pocket is bloody annoying, but to have it happen three times in a few hours is scary.

Thanks to the light fingered kleptomaniacs of Moscow I am now minus my reading glasses from my coat pocket, and Tiny Clanger has been taken from her mesh pocket on the side of my bag. B’tards! Anya lost her sunglasses, reading glasses and spare gloves.

Lena has asked us if we want to leave ‘the snake pit’ in the morning but we’ve decided to stay and see the things we planned………..we won’t be returning and Anya bought drawing pins to put in our coat pockets for tomorrow.

Day 9 - A history lesson, winter grips and time to move on

St Petersburg - My City

2,408 Miles GMT +3 Temp -10

We've previously done art and literature and today we've done history. Our first visit was to the Museum of Political History, which is housed in a building that Lenin once made an impassioned speech from the upstairs balcony to the citizens of St Petersburg. Some of the information was interesting, although a lot of it felt like it was more an ex-communist curiosity shop than useful comment on history......... I can now say I've seen Mikhail Gorbachev's video camera, but I still have a lot to learn about Russia.

The Siege Memorial

From there we walk to the museum of the Siege of Leningrad. It opened just 3 months after the siege ended in 1944, and had 37,000 exhibits, including real tanks and aeroplanes amongst them. However just three years later during Stalin's repression of the city, the museum was closed, the director shot and most of the exhibits either destroyed or re-distributed. It re-opened in 1989 following campaigning from people of all backgrounds and the displays are now made up mostly of donations from survivors. What really impressed me is that some of those people act as voluntary guides, and the lady pictured above, Irina, took us through her section, which was about how the radio and the newspapers kept people buoyant with news and words of encouragement. Some of the personal accounts are truly harrowing. Lena read me some of the children's diaries, but it didn't take long before she couldn't read any more and we couldn't listen to anymore.  One of them, a diary of a little girl aged nine, who recorded simple statements each day, such as 'mummy is dead'. In the space of two weeks she lost both parents and two brothers. There were accounts of acts of random kindness too, and an immense sense of courage as well as defiance from the civilian population. The part I can't comprehend is that more civilians lost their lives in the defence of St Petersburg during the 872 days of the siege than the combined forces of the USA and Britain in the whole of WWII.   

It was kind of appropriate that when we left the museum there was a blizzard waiting for us. Coffee and a stiff vodka bolstered us for the walk back the apartment. We are moving onto Moscow tonight, so it seemed more sensible to prepare for that journey than fight our way anywhere else.

Political Art

Time to leave St Petersburg, sniff, sniff. I have loved being in this city. Four days was just not enough, I feel like I've only just scratched the surface and will return some day. If you have ever thought of visiting then I'm sure it would live up to expectations. I'm told by Lena that in the summer it gets very crowded but comes to life with the added bonus of beaches and parks. Personally I think I prefer the winter, it may be cold, ok very cold, but it's quiet and beautiful to walk around in the snow.

We are now safely on the overnight train to Moscow, so bid you a good evening.

Day 8 St Petersburg - Pavlov's Squirrel, Bear Cruelty and Gary Potter

Pavlovs Squirrel

 2,408 miles GMT +3 Temp -8

We started our day at the Summer Garden, a park renowned for its statues, once chosen by the poet Pushkin for the childhood walks of his fictional character Eugene Onegin. Alas we are greeted with the rather odd sight of all of the statues boxed away, presumably to protect them for the elements during the winter. We walk through anyway as it's on our route. We stop briefly to buy a coffee from a kiosk, and I see a squirrel approaching down a tree trunk. We buy a packet of nuts and 'Boris' gets all twitchy and excited at the sound of the packet opening. "It is Pavlov's squirrel" Lena laughs. We spend a few minutes feeding him, before emptying the packet for him and move on. 

On our return visit to the Hermitage this morning we encounter the sight of a small bear, chained and muzzled, his job to perform for tourists and to pose for photos. The bear looked sad and thin, while his well fed captor, beckoned passers by to him to sell the bears dignity. He go a bit more than he bargained for from Lena, as she waded into him to the point she had him backed up to the wall. He unchained the bear quickly and left.....something to do with the thought of her returning with a chain, a gag and a big stick for him no doubt.

We spent the rest of the morning in the Hermitage concentrating on paintings today. Photography in the museum is a bit of a mine-field, as although I’ve bought a camera permit, there are some exhibits that you’re not allowed to photograph. It would be helpful if these were marked, as having to wait to see if one of the elderly concierges was going to pounce became a bit of a game too good to miss. Top choices today were Titian, Da Vinci, Degas, Raphael.........ooh just too many.

At lunch I'm introduced to Borscht, not the cold beetroot version, but the hot peasant style broth, that has just about everything in but the kitchen sink in, topped with soured cream. Lena informs me that the recipe changes depending on the area of Russia the cook is from. I think ours was well travelled.

Museum interior and cashpoint

We walk to the church of The Saviour on Spilled Blood, which is one of the main sights of St Petersburg, and has the typical Russian Orthodox onion domes. The church was built on the site where Tsar Alexander II was assassinated and was dedicated in his memory. It contains over 7,500 square metres of mosaics, reputedly more than any other church in the world. It is truly spectacular, the colours, styling and size simply have to be seen to be believed.


In the aftermath of the Revolution it was ransacked and looted, badly damaging the interior. The Soviet Government closed the church in the early 1930's. During the siege of Leningrad in WWII it was used as a temporary storage facility for the dead. After the war it was used as a warehouse for vegetables, leading to the sardonic name of 'Saviour of Potatoes'.


In July 1970 management of the church passed to St Isaac's Cathedral, then a highly profitable museum, and the proceeds from the Cathedral were channelled back into restoring the church. What I found astonishing was that it was re-opened in August 1997, after 27 years of restoration, but has not been re-consecrated and does not function as a full-time place of worship; it is a museum of mosaic. Even before the revolution it didn't function as a public place of worship, having been dedicated exclusively to the memory of the Tsar, hence it's name.

Gary Potter

Next stop a book shop. I went to look in the children's section, and although they were all in Russian text it was possible to identify some of the cover illustrations despite Russian titles. I spotted a copy of Harry Potter, and when Lena came to find me I asked her if she had read Harry Potter? "Gary Potter, no not heard of him." No Lena, Harry Potter. "That book says Gary Potter, I haven't heard of him either." Priceless!

One other priceless experience, the public loos, which look as though they have been fabricated from an old battleship. Add to this the fact that the temperature is –8, everything is metal and you have to pay for the privilege, which entitles you to a ration of loo paper fit to strip paint from the said battle ship. ‘Izal’ would be a luxury here.