Day Two in St Petersburg - Splendour, Serenity and a Skuffle

After breakfast we walk a short distance to St Isaacs Cathedral with its giant marble pillars and earthy colour tones. Inside there are more lighting wonders as well as models of how the pillars were erected and dome constructed. Astounding.

Next we stop briefly at a souvenir shop where we are offered tea, coffee or vodka shots. The latter is most popular. Down the hatch in one gulp is the way to do it, but gentle sips is all I can handle. Neat vodka at midday is not really my thing, but when in Russia ... It warms the throat that’s for sure.

There’s some nice stuff here and people purchase mementos. Then it’s time to head to the Winter Palace. The Hermitage. It’s a lovely shade of turquoise and occupies a large slab of land in the centre of the city, next to Palace Square with Alexander Column and the Triumphal Arch. Again, more scaffolding here; it’s hard to find an old building without it.

There is the obligatory queue. We join it. The sun beats down, hats go on and umbrellas go up. There is a film camera set up near the end of the queue. I ask them what they are filming. A piece for the Russian news, about tourists here, I am told. Would I like to be interviewed? Ok. The guy asks me various questions - where am I from, what am I here for, what do I expect to see inside, how do I find the weather, the city, the sights, the queues? 

The queue moves slowly and grows swiftly behind us as we make progress. Some people try to push in but we block them, stare them down, tell them off. It’s hot. There is only one turnstile to get all these people inside, it’s ridiculous. As we get towards the entrance steps, things get interesting.

A man is trying to push ahead of us with what appears to be his family in tow. I am at the back of our group and spread my arms to try to keep us together and block them - and others - from chopping in. We engage our block/stare/tell off tactics but they don’t work, he is still trying to push past us. Then he goes for it, with more force this time. He’s trying to pretend he’s not butting in, but he clearly is. The woman gets left behind and squeals loudly. My arm gets caught in a frantic squeeze and is in danger of snapping. I withdraw it. The man shoots past me and is forging his way up to the entrance door. The cheek of it! Hugh grabs the guy’s shoulder bag, tugging on it like a seasoned bag-snatcher. Instead of stopping the guy, Hugh is now being dragged up the steps. Let go Hugh!

As the guy gets higher up those steps, our group tactics get more extreme - Anne pokes him vigorously with her stick, Yvonne gives him a good shove, Elaine elbows him where it hurts, everyone is chiming in. He is undeterred and gets through regardless. The woman is now screaming and pushing past us to join him. There is a boy somewhere amongst it all and maybe some others that get through too. What a fiasco. We have surrendered; it’s annoying but easier and we are now nearly at the entrance. 

When we get to the turnstile, frazzled, battle-weary and defeated, the rogues are nowhere to be seen. Anastasia is surprised and delighted by our ‘Kiwis take no crap, we fight back’ attitude; most people just watch and moan. She tells us she has witnessed full-on brawls before. We think the Hermitage needs to improve its entrance process. 

We walk through the various halls, each as ornate and magnificent as the last. The parquetry floors are beautiful. We cross the canal high up on walkways. We go through the art gallery rooms. There’s an extraordinary Canaletto painting - the perspective changes remarkably when viewed from different angles. 

The Rembrandts are captivating, as always. “The Return of the Prodigal Son” is what everyone comes to see; this is The Hermitage’s Mona Lisa and it’s not easy to get up close but we do. Sometimes it’s so busy at this spot that getting near is simply not an option.

The Hermitage is truly enormous, we see only a tiny part. There is malachite and marble, gold and silver, artworks and treasures. Days can be spent here but we have only a couple of hours to get a great overview of an impressive museum. Come during winter for a more peaceful experience which will enable more time to see more things.

We return to our hotel for a rest and refresh and meet again later to take a one-hour canal/river cruise. Conditions are perfect and we sit out the back of the boat, gliding past fabulous buildings. There are many bridges. It really does remind us of Venice. We join the Neva River for a bit. On the far side is the Cruiser Aurora which is permanently moored in the river and is a museum. Nearby is the St Petersburg Hotel, a large Soviet style hotel. I stayed there 40 years ago when the city and the hotel were both called Leningrad.

We pass The Hermitage, seeing its other facades and getting a sense of its scale from other angles. We wend our way along another smaller canal, past the Faberge Museum and the TV studios - perhaps they are editing the tourist news piece I was interviewed for?! 

After our pleasant cruise we walk to a local folk restaurant where we enjoy another yummy meal. As always, the service is swift and efficient and there is no loitering. In - eat - out. That’s the nature of Russian dining. The walk back to the hotel is under the pale blue night sky; the light is exquisite and the temperature is perfect.

Traffic lights here count down for cars as well as pedestrians. From red to green, this gives drivers plenty of silent advice as to when its time to put the foot down and get moving, thereby reducing slow take-offs that might compromise those at the back of the queue and perpetuate traffic build up. The lights also count down from green to red, along with an amber light. It makes a difference when it comes to traffic control and good flow.

Generally traffic here is a bit chaotic due to the narrow roads and many bridges. People seem to think that if you can get your car halfway into a park, it’s okay. But not for bus Drivers trying to get past!

New Zealand, take note of these simple and effective traffic management tools for everyone using the roads. Get it in action soon, I say.

There is a subway system in this city - we won’t be travelling on it but it is one of the very deepest in the world. Anastasia tells us that because the city is built mostly on swampland, it wasn’t easy to construct and required serious engineering prowess. The deepest station is almost 100m underground which posed serious challenges. With expertise, they were overcome. 

The idea for a Metro system here was originally mooted in 1820, but arguments went on for years about it being too hard. Thankfully, the powers-that-be many years later eventually saw sense and construction began in 1941. It was halted during the war and started again in 1947. It opened in 1955 and has made life in this city easier ever since.

Then there is the Moscow Metro, also very deep at 84m, and opened in 1935. 

A ride from anywhere to anywhere on these Metro systems is about NZ$1 - yes, you read that right.

Auckland, take note. For years we’ve been bluffed that it’s too hard to tunnel under the Waitemata Harbour - it’s barely 12m deep for goodness sake. 

If the Soviets could build networks 80 years ago in an environment far more challenging than ours (months of darkness and snow) then surely we can. No more excuses, this is 2019, not the dark ages. We don’t need marble, bronze, chandeliers or opulence but an underground in Auckland would be a game-changer - for the future, for our children and grandchildren, for the tourists, for everyone. Plan now for that future and stop procrastinating, or Auckland will slowly choke itself to death. 

Tourists are flocking to St Petersburg in droves and, aware their [already pretty extensive] infrastructure is in serious danger of not coping, they  are planning now for more growth. We need to do the same - plan for the future, not for the now.

Back at the hotel, I investigate the jazz Musician playing in the hotel bar. He’s very good, but there is a very drunk man who is singing very loudly and very badly. He doesn’t stop and his mates, who appear only semi-intoxicated by comparison, join in every now and again rather than stopping him. It’s intolerable and, feeling rather sorry for the pianist who is having his lovely playing ruined, I head for bed. 

I wonder if the drunk guy is Finnish, thinking back to when I was in Leningrad in 1982 and we went up to our room one night in that Leningrad Hotel, after a nightcap, surrounded by drunken Finnish men lying comatose in the lift, only to find another such creature asleep in my bed! The Finns came to Russia for cheaper goods and services, namely booze, and still do. I just hope none of my group has got to their room to find a similar situation. My bed awaits and it is supremely comfortable. 

As I drift off to sleep, I can’t help but giggle about the fracas at the entrance to one of the most famous museums in the world!

OBSERVATIONS OF THE DAY: This city was called St Petersburg until 1914, then it became Petrograd. It was known as Leningrad from 1924 until it reverted to St Petersburg in 1991. The renaming in the post-Soviet era was a fully democratic process. Residents were given these three options to choose from - Petrograd, Leningrad or St Petersburg - the latter was the ultimate winner.  Great name - but it’s Long and a bugger to type often!

It seems today is a bit of a media day for me - not only was I interviewed by Russian TV, I also had a travel story published in The NZ Herald Travel section (Tues 23rd July) - called The Still in the Storm it’s a tale of generosity and camaraderie in the Dordogne, France.