Leaving Russia

Tuesday 26th July 2011

The ship had made arrangements for transport at appropriate times to ferry the departing passengers to St. Petersburg airport to go our various ways. My departure time was 11.30 a.m. and I was determined to squeeze the most experience out of the remaining time by making a 'whistle-stop' visit to the city centre.

I established that the first shuttle bus to the Metro station was at 9.00 a.m. so I was waiting for it in good time. The bus made good time across the river to the Metro station and purchasing a ticket was no problem. When I got to the platform level, I realised that the station lacked any signage in 'Romanised' characters but the Metro map I was carrying only had the place names in 'Romanised' form, so I struggled to determine in which direction I should be heading. A train came in on what I thought was the right direction so I caught it. After a fair bit of worrying and trying to guess the meaning of words in Cyrillic characters each time we stopped, I arrived at Gostiny Dvor in the centre of the city.

St. Petersburg street scene.

It was another sunny morning with plenty of people about and I happily wandered around for a while until fear of getting back to the ship late overcame me so I entered Nevsky Prospekt Metro station, purchased a ticket and made my way through the underground passages to get to the Gostiny Dvor platforms, aided by at least some of the signs using 'Romanised' as well as Cyrillic characters.

With some relief, I boarded a train going in the right direction and counted off the stops. When we arrived at the stop before mine, I realised my carriage was now empty. A minute later, the driver walked through the train 'shooing' any remaining passengers off the train. The platform edge doors closed and I heard my train rumble away. I'd no idea why the train was being taken out of service. After a few minutes, the following train arrived and I was able to continue my journey. By now I was worried that I would miss the shuttle bus back to the ship so I sprinted up the long escalator until I was panting heavily, emerged into the sunlight and impatiently waited for the traffic lights to stop the traffic and allow me to cross the road. By now, I could see the shuttle bus but my watch suggested that the bus should be about to leave. Two passengers were still on the pavement - 'Plenty of time' they assured me and, indeed, it was about a minute before the bus moved off with one relieved passenger still breathing heavily.

After this adventure, I was back at the ship with time to spare before saying my final goodbyes, identifying my luggage and joining the coach to the airport. The coach initially took the route we'd used the previous day going to the Catherine Palace at Pushkin before taking the airport road, passing a large retail park and pulling up at a surprisingly small airport terminal building. This was Pulkovo II which appeared to be for international flights. As we'd arrived, I'd seen another terminal in the distance crowned with what looked like five cooling towers and I assumed this was Pulkovo I for domestic flights. The terminal was fairly crowded with a number of queues snaking towards check-in desks placed around the outside of the space. According to the passenger displays, I had at least an hour to wait before I could check in so I found a relatively quiet corner of the terminal, sat down on my large case and took out my notebook computer to pass the time preparing text for the blog. To my amazement, the computer immediately connected itself to a free, fast 'Wi-Fi' so I dashed off a couple of e-mails. I was quite happily typing away and didn't at first notice that check in had started at two desks for my flight to Zurich.

One desk for Economy had a very long queue but the other desk for Business had a short queue which I joined. There seemed to be a group of French ladies at the head of the queue attempting to check-in (in English) but the check-in girl was repeatedly directing them, with extreme politeness, to the other queue. I assumed they didn't have Business Class tickets. Next, the French contingent tried to book in by speaking French. Once again, the check-in girl declined with great courtesy, responding in French. One of the French ladies then insisted on remaining directly in front of the check-in desk, glowering at everyone in sight. The check-in girl then processed the Business class passengers very efficiently and I commented on her patience. Check-in complete, I made my way through security and immigration, with the French ladies still attempting to picket the Check-in desk.

I found the nice, quiet Polkovo business lounge which had extremely friendly staff and a reasonable range of snacks. Once again, the 'Wi-Fi' worked well and it was soon time to make my way to the Departure Gate for my flight. The advantage of the small terminal was that it only took a couple of minutes to get from the lounge to the gate. There are plenty of airports where they warn you to allow 20 minutes!

Taxiing away from Pulkovo II terminal at St. Petersburg.

Once on the aircraft, I was able to relax and catch my last views of Russia as we made our way to Switzerland. It was sunny and hot when we arrived in Zurich. The terminal seemed very crowded but, to my relief, my flight was called quite soon and I boarded the bus taking us onto the apron where the aircraft for the Birmingham flight was waiting. The flight was uneventful and we arrived at Birmingham on time - a satisfactory conclusion to what had proved a stimulating and fascinating tour.

More pictures.

Last full day in St. Petersburg

Monday 25th July 2011

Various optional tours (chargeable) were offered on the Monday. I'd elected for the Catherine Palace in Pushkin during the morning and the Yusopov Palace in the afternoon. The bus to the Catherine Palace didn't leave until 9.15 a.m. so, after an early breakfast, there was time for a walk along the four-lane highway which followed the river into the city centre. I explored one or two side roads but the mainly residential area was fairly nondescript - it could have been a million miles from the grandeur of the civic buildings and palaces in the city centre.

The four-lane highway passing the River Station leads to the centre of Saint Petersburg.

Just after 9.00 a.m., the usual coaches were lined up to take us to the Catherine Palace and, once everybody had been sorted onto the appropriate coach, we set off in convoy, this time negotiating the complex of slip-roads leading to the cable-stayed road bridge next to the River Terminal for our journey in a new direction to Pushkin.

The palaces and parks we were to see were developed by Empress Elizabeth and later re-developed to the taste of Empress Catherine in the late 18th century. The centrepiece is the massive baroque palace called the Catherine Palace after Peter the Great's second wife who was the Empress Elizabeth's mother. The architects Rastrelli, Rinaldi, Cameron and Quarenghi were all involved in the creation of the 'Russian Versailles'. The area has, once again, started to be known as 'Tsarskoye Selo' (the Tsar's Village) but that name fell out of favour following the revolution so the area is also known as 'Pushkin' after the revered Russian poet.

Our coaches dropped us off on the approach road to the Catherine Palace and we joined the throng of visitors walking towards the Palace. We eventually joined a large queue awaiting admission to the palace where we were entertained by a group of uniformed musicians. As I listened to the music, I realised they were not mere 'buskers'. I was so impressed, I purchased the CD their leader was selling (stopping playing his trumpet to serve customers and then picking up the tune again). The sleeve notes told me that they were the 'Catherine Palace Orchestra', now established 20 years and having played at numerous official functions during that time. I was quite sorry when the queue finally shuffled forward and we moved into the Palace itself.

The Catherine Palace Orchestra performing for the queue.

The Catherine Palace is certainly impressive, if somewhat 'over the top' for me. The Germans got as far as St. Petersburg during the second World War and during their occupation of the Palace, it suffered considerable damage. Considerable resources have been expended (some from War Reparations) to bring the palaces and parks to their present state of renovation. Our tour was necessarily brief but we saw the Main Staircase, the amazing gilt and mirrored Great Hall (which was used for balls), a number of Anterooms, the Arabesque Room, the Chevalier, Minor White and Green Dining Rooms, the White, Crimson and Green Pilaster rooms, the Portrait Room, the Picture Room, the Drawing Room of Alexander I and a rather grand Waiters' Room. The Amber Room is perhaps the most famous room, completely inlaid with pieces of ambers in various shades of toffee colour. It's definitely baroque and cleverly executed, but a little sickly for my taste.

The Catherine Palace, viewed from the Catherine Park.

Once outside, at our Guide's suggestion we gave the Alexander Park (with the large Alexander Palace) a miss and spent the rest of our time exploring the Catherine Park. All too soon, we were hurrying back to our coaches which took us back to the ship for lunch at 1.00 p.m.

Pictures of the trip to the Catherine Palace in Pushkin are here.

At 2.30 p.m. I departed by coach with the group visiting the Yusupov Palace, situated on a bend of the Moika River near the city centre. Our guide had arranged to purchase photographic permits for those who wanted to take pictures but, when we arrived at reception, we were told that the people who dealt with the permits were on break so photography would not be possible. Mindless bureaucracy is still alive and well in the Russian Federation!

The entrance to the Yusupov Palace at 94 Moika.

A little background ... Apparently Tsar Peter the Great never liked Moscow, his original capital. He built a new capital at what is now called Saint Petersburg where the River Neva flows into the Gulf of Finland. The area was originally swampland so construction was no easy task. The city is still penetrated by numerous minor rivers and canals, giving rise to its description as "The Venice of the North", although I was more reminded of Amsterdam. Numerous grand residences were built to accommodate members of the Royal court and the city delighted in its sophistication. Even today, Saint Petersburg regards itself as the cultural capital of Russia. There was a wooden palace on the site of the Yusopov Palace at the beginning of the 18th century and ownership changed hands many times. The 'golden age' for the Palace was initiated by its purchase by Prince Nikolai Yusupov in 1830. Nikolai Yusopv was from an ancient family of Russian nobility, educated in Europe. His immense wealth allowed him to indulge his taste for collecting. On the death of Prince Nikolai in 1831, the Yusupov Palace passed to Nikolai's only son, Boris. The palace received the attentions of the finest architects and artists to create a suitable home for the Prince's collections. The rebuilt Palace included a private theatre! In the 1860s, there was a further major reconstruction of the Palace carried out by Nikolai Yusupov the Younger, followed by yet further improvements in the 1890s. The last Yusupov to own the Palace was Prince Felix Yusupov the Younger who commissioned the final changes to the Palace between 1911 and 1916.

The relationship of the Royal court with the Tsar's familiy had become threatened by the power gained by Grigory Rasputin - a peasant from Siberia who had become close to Tsar Nicholas II and his wife Alexandra through his apparent ability to help the Tsar's haemophiliac son Alexis. Rasputin was lured to the Yusupov Palace in December 1916 and murdered in the basement. In the following year, the Russian Revolution swept away the previous hierarchy and the Yusupov Palace was seized by the State. The custodians of the Palace realised the importance of the Palace and its collections and it remained more or less intact until the Second World War when aerial bombing and a serious fire caused major damage. At the end of the war, the State carried out meticulous restoration so that visitors can once again view the Palace as it was at the end of the 19th century. The building is now the 'Palace of Culture of Education Workers' but it is referred to as the 'Yusupov Palace' without embarrassment.

There were quite a few parties touring the Palace but the lady attendants in each room were diligent in closing the doors to each room as parties entered and left so it wasn't the 'scrum' we'd experienced elsewhere. I found the private rooms quite atmospheric. As you might expect, there were drawing rooms of various colours, dining rooms of various colours and grander rooms for balls and banquets. There was a series of Picture Gallery rooms for the display of various types of art. Much of the art had been removed for display elsewhere, but impressive displays remain. There was a rather gloomy Oak Dining Room and an equally gloomy smaller dining room in Prince Yusupov's Apartments improbably sporting embossed, coloured leather 'wallpaper'. Equally improbably, this room is now used as one of the souvenir shops. I did rather like Prince Yusupov's Study, filled with bookcases. The Moorish Drawing Room with mosaic floor, elaborate wall decorations and marble columns was rather over-the-top. I was perhaps most impressed by the threatre with its elaborate gold leaf and painted ceiling. Monighetti was the architect in 1860 but it was then 'modernised' to accord with the then-current taste by Stepanov in 1899. The guide book refers to the theatre as "a precious casket, created with intricate virtuosity". We descended to the basement and a re-creation of the events surrounding the demise of Rasputin. I couldn't help thinking that, having despatched Rasputin in violent fashion, less than a year later the whole of the aristocracy was either killed or exiled in the shattering events of the Revolution.

We returned to our coaches but, to our surprise, we were delivered to the landing stage by the Hermitage, to complete our journey back to our ship by hydrofoil. This made a pleasant conclusion to a busy day.

Pictures on the journey to and from the Yusupov Palace are here. I took no pictures inside the Palace, as explained above.

An Evening at the Ballet

Sunday 24th July 2011

The Auditorium of the Hermitage Theatre, just before the performance.

Sunday had already been quite busy (Peterhof in the rain in the morning, exploring the Metro and Moscow Station in the afternoon) but we were not done yet. Dinner was at 6.00 p.m., comprising soup and a man course only to ensure that we'd be ready to leave the ship by 7.00 p.m. The dessert was to be offered to us on our return! We'd been offered two choices for the evening's entertainment - The Menshikov Hall Folk Show or Ballet at the Hermitage Theatre. Well, the Ballet Company might not be the famous Mariinsky (formerly the Kirov) but the performance was at the Hermitage Theatre so it was no contest. I joined one of the buses for the ballet and we drove downtown.

We entered the Winter Palace through a modest doorway and climbed stairs to the first floor. We passed through a large salon which formed a bridge over a canal. The salon had been renovated and was quite grand, if bare. Large windows on either side gave views of the canal on one side and the Neva River on the other. A small souvenir and programme stall looked rather out-of-place in the grand salon. We passed into the theatre itself which had also had extensive renovation. The theatre seats around 250 and is quite intimate. Steeply raked semicircular seating rows ensure good views. A few rows of chairs, very close to the orchestra, filled in the semicircle. Guides from the ship acted as usherettes to find seating for us all. Most of the audience appeared to be tourists, but I did spot one old Russian lady who looked as if she might be a regular.

The performance started on time. I'd not seen 'Giselle' so I was quite glad of the programme notes. I'm not a fan of the ballet but I enjoyed the two-acts of 'Giselle'. After the performance, the audience were generous in their appreciation of both the dancers and the orchestra.

The Company and the Orchestra take their bow after the performance.

We retraced our steps through the salon, down the stairs and out into the street, where our coaches were waiting to return us to the ship. Those with the appetite (and energy) were offered dessert to complete the evening meal. Altogether, a very satisfactory day.

Pictures of the trip to the ballet.

Saint Petersburg Metro

Sunday 24th July 2011

Route Map of the Saint Petersburg Metro. (Larger image).

After the morning organised visit to the Peterhof, in the afternoon I briefly explored the Saint Petersburg Metro on my own. Any journey costs 25 Roubles and all stations have one or more staffed ticket windows where you can purchase the necessary coin token. There were a few automatic ticket machines but I never worked out quite how they worked. Moscow Metro uses credit-card sized printed tickets but Saint Petersburg uses coin tokens similar to those I found in Kiev a few years ago. The automatic gates themselves which give access to the platforms are similar to Metro systems the world over.

Russian Metros seem to run quite deep - 70 metres below ground is typical. Descending to platform level usually involves one long escalator and steps or a short escalator. Each station is formed from three parallel tunnels - two outside tunnels for the tracks and a central concourse tunnel for passenger access which is sometimes highly decorated. At many stations there are platform edge doors so you can only hear the arriving trains. The row of heavy steel doors set in arches either side of the concourse tunnel rather gives the impression of a prison. At other stations, the arches allow you to walk through to a conventional platform which shares the tunnel bore with the track. Digital displays are often provided on the end walls of the concourse showing how long has elapsed since the previous train departed. Even on a Sunday, trains were running every two or three minutes.

There are now five separate Metro lines in St. Petersburg, all end-to-end, with seven interchange stations. The lines are known as M1 to M5, but always using a stylised 'M' looking like a letter 'V' in a tunnel - (V). All signage, of course, is in Russian using Cyrillic characters. In the city centre, many signs also carry station names or other clues in the 'Romanised' or 'Latinised' form but away from the city centre Cyrillic rules. To add to my confusion, interchange stations have a separate name on each line. I started my tour at Gostiny Dvor on Line 3: had I walked through the pedestrian tunnel to Line 2, I would have been at Nevsky Prospekt.

My first trip took me just one stop on Line 3 to the interchange station of Mayakovskaya/Ploshchad Vosstaniya where I emerged to look for 'Moscow Station' - the main line railway station for trains to Moscow. I spent a happy half hour wandering around this station before returning underground to continue my Metro tour. This time, I took Line 1 for two stations to reach the interchange station of Pushkinskaya/Zvenigorodskaya. The rolling stock on lines 1 and 3 had been the fairly basic Russian Metro design but, transferring to the later Line 5, more modern trains were in use and there was a lot of electronics in the driver's cab. I only travelled one stop to the three-way interchange of Sadovaya/Sennaya Ploshchad/Spasskaya. Wandering through the pedestrian tunnels, I was amused to find a pair of double doors labelled in Russian and in English 'Spasskaya Telecontrol Centre' which I assume was a signalling control room. This time, my journey took me three stops on Line 4 to my final interchange of Ploshchad Aleksandra Nevskogo. Oddly, the two stations here share the same name, with a suffix 'I' or 'II'. Three stops on Line 3 took me to Proletarskaya. Here I was to get the Shuttle Bus back to my ship at the river terminal. Worried that I would miss the bus, I panted up the long escalator, crossed the main road and panted along the street opposite which I hoped would lead to the bus stop. Fortunately, it did and the bus set off a few seconds after I boarded. A rather breathess end to an interesting tour.

My rather indifferent pictures of the Saint Petersburg Metro are here.

My equally indifferent pictures of Moscow's Metro are here.

More St. Petersburg

Sunday 24th July 2011

The day started dull, became very wet and then, in the afternoon, became warm and sunny. After my usual 7.0 a.m. breakfast, I decided to take a walk ashore.

We were tied-up on the outside of two other river cruise ships from the Vodohod group so, to get ashore, I had to go through the reception area of the 'L. Sobolev' (I presume this is named after Sobolev the mathemetician who died in 1989) and then the 'Konstantin Fedin' (the Russian author who died in 1977 - article here. We were at the newer river terminal of Utkina Zavod, situated on a busy dual carriageway with follows the north bank of the Neva.

I walked in a downstream direction past what is principally a residential area. I passed some modern apartments but most of the housing was 3- 4- and 5-story apartments, in pretty poor condition somewhat relieved by trees, grass and children's play areas. There was a small bus station with people commuting to work. I was amused by a queue of passengers formed up in the middle of the tarmac area, waiting where the bus would ultimately arrive. I couldn't help thinking that they were about to break into a spontaneous performance of Village People's hit 'Y.M.C.A'. In the forecourt of an old factory, there was a badly-wrecked saloon car. It looked as if the emergency services had cut the roof open to extract the unfortunate occupants. I wondered how long it had sat there, a grim reminder of the perils of road travel.

The adjacent factory had once been a large engineering complex but had clearly been abandoned for years. In places, there were holes in the walls and some of the windows and doors were missing. Inside, I could see partly-dismantled, rusting pipework. Thinking about what might have happened to all those who became unemployed when the factory closed, it made a sad sight. In the days of the Soviet directed economy, I'm sure the place buzzed with activity even if it was not profitable in the conventional sense. I wondered whether the Soviet system had ultimately collapsed under the weight of its own internal economic inconsistencies.

In places, pairs of large-diameter, heavily lagged district heating pipes emerged from the ground and wandered around, like large worms. Wisps of steam rose from the ground at one point where there was a manhole set in concrete and, presumably, some sort of valve underground. On the river side of the dual carriageway, a typical Russian floating crane had moored and its grab was unloading gravel from a river cargo ship, producing clouds of dust in the process.

An unexpected sight was a 5-story hexagonal brick tower, complete with battlemented turrets! It appeared to be used as apartments now and I could not guess at its origins, unless it was originally an impressive gatehouse to the adjacent works. I turned back towards the ship near a Soviet-era apartment block, opposite the older river terminal on the south bank of the river. The architecture of the apartment block was impressive but it now wore a tired and uncared-for appearance. At least the rainwater down pipes had been replaced not too long ago, with the Russian pattern of large diameter sectional pipes made from sheet sheel. But, inevitably, where a tall archway gave access for vehicles to the yard at the rear of the property, the down pipes had become battered by numerous impacts from the small lorries and vans which seemed to infest the place.

The epic architecture (and battered rainwater pipes!) of Stalin-era apartments.

When travelling to and from the city centre the previous day I'd spotted, at strategic locations, modern pontoons with a bright yellow awning connected to the river bank by steps. I passed one of these on my walk back to the ship. These are the landing stages for the 'Aquabus' system - a network of small motor cruisers which dash up and down the river.

Later in the morning, we set off from the ship for a visit to the Peterhof Gardens. We travelled by hydrofoil 'Meteor' class number 185 but to board this, we had to pass through the normal neighbouring ships to reach the embankment, walk along to the next pier and cross through two or three different moored cruise ships to reach the hydrofoil itself. We set of downstream, past the remarkable contrasts we'd seen previously but, this time, we carried on towards the sea, past navy ships, a number of floating docks and the tall cranes constructing a new arena. I was amazed to see six or seven ocean-going cruise ships in the new port area, presumably all disgorging thousands of tourists into the crowded city. The coast had dropped behind us and and we were surrounded by grey sea, so the passengers were surprising when the engines suddenly dropped to idling. The explanation became clear as a massive Spanish cruise ship crossed in front of us, heading for the port. As soon as he was clear, we set off again. Whilst we were drifting, another hydrofoil has almost caught up with us and I could see a third following us both! Perhaps it was my imagination, but our captain appeared to increase speed to prevent the following hydrofoil from overhauing us. A flag-bedecked jetty appeared and we quickly docked and disembarked. We had arrived by the 'Royal Route' because Peter the Great was accustomed to travelling by sea from the city to Peterhof.

View of the Great Palace at Peterhof from the Marine Canal, in the rain.

It was raining fairly hard and I was glad of my raincoat. Some of our group had been rather optimistically attired and must have been rather miserable by the time we got under cover. We walked alongside the Marine Canal which leads from the sea to the Great Palace and had our first views of the impressive architecture. We toured the Lower Gardens in the rain. Situated here are a number of smaller Palaces and Pavilions. After queueing in the rain, we were admitted to one of the elaborate Pavilions, where we discarded our wet coats and fitted plastic overshoes in a cloakroom before being allowed to walk on the original wooden floors. After the tour, we were back in the rain where a balustraded promenade gave us the view of the Gulf of Finland so beloved by Peter the Great (a bit grey when we were there). We looked through the windows of Peter the Great's favourite Pavilion - 'Monplaisir' built to give views of the sea.

The Park incorporates 176 fountains and four cascades, powered entirely by hydraulic pressure, the water being led in a pipeline from the inland hills. Some of the fountains are 'Trick' fountains, where the unwary are given a soaking either by treading on one of the stones that releases water or just by mistiming their movements passing through the target area. Apparently, when these were built, this was considered a capital joke. We passed an aviary for exotic birds and a hothouse for exotic plants. There were water features everywhere, none more famous than the huge Grand Cascade in front of the Great Palace. Adorned with dozens of gilded figures, this discharges into the Marine Canal.

By this time, the rain had abated and, near the Grand Cascade, a brass band was playing. All of the instruments were in the form of a straight horn of various lengths and diameters. Two large metal tables supported the larger instruments, so the instruments were not exactly portable! There was time to explore more of the Lower Gardens (and spot a couple of red squirrels scurrying between the mature trees) before we made our way to the coach park for the return journey. We were given a choice - a coach right back to the ship or, since the afternoon was free, a coach to the city centre. I was surprised at how few of my fellow passengers elected, like me, to go to the city centre. A lady guide was provided to describe some of the sights and I found it a fascinating journey.

The coach skirted the Upper Park if the Peterhof and followed the broad Peterhof Highway back to the city centre. We passed various buildings associated with the Peterhof before skirting the impressive Konstantinovsky Palace. In recent times, this has been restored to its original grandeur and was famously used as the venue for the Russia - European Union Summit in 2003. Like a number of grand buildings in St. Petersburg, the Palace is now available for hire. We passed a huge modern building that looked educational. I was puzzled by the marine radar scanner rotating on the roof, until our guide explained that the building was the Academy for Russian Merchant Seamen. Apparently, its completion had been delayed for years and it had become something of a local scandal. A double-track tram system ran parallel to the road on reserved tracks and I was surprised at just how many one- and two-car trams were in traffic and well-patronised for a Sunday afternoon. We passed tall, modern apartment blocks and 'retail parks'. Apart from all the signs being in Russian, we could have been anywhere in Europe.

Narva Triumphal Arch

Our route into the older part of the city took us past the Narva Triumphal Arch, brick-built with cladding and ornamentation in copper. This was completed in 1834 to celebrate Russia's triumph over Napoleon in the war of 1812. Badly damaged in World War II, it was restored in 1951. There's more here. The coach dropped us off near the monument to Catherine the Great and the guide gave us directions to our various destinations. I opted for the nearest Metro Station, Gostiny Dvor.

More later.

Pictures of my visit to the Peterhof Gardens are here.

Pictures of the trip back from the Peterhof to the city centre are included in the set 'Around St. Petersburg'.

St. Petersburg

Saturday 23rd July 2011

'Vodohod' berths for cruise ships and hyrofoils on the north bank of the River Neva at Utkina Zavod, St. Petersburg.

During the night, we completed our crossing of Lake Lagoda and entered the River Neva to complete the last 50 km of our marathon journey from Moscow. It was noticeable that, whilst the industrial sites we'd passed on our trip had been run-down, we passed some modern premises as we approached St. Petersburg. We came to an area bristling with new high-rise apartments of the type you can find in any major city and passed under a modern cable-stayed road bridge which I'd cross a number of times during our stay in St. Petersburg. On our right, there were a number of moored River Cruise ships, all flying the red 'Vodohod' pennant and a collection of hyrofoils. It appeared that we were at our destination. I'm afraid it was a while before I had grasped that we were at the newer river terminal of Utkina Zavod on the north bank (not shown on the map I had) rather than the older terminal a short distance downstream on the south bank. We manoevred together with another river cruise ship: it seemed to be a case of one out, one in.

We moored at the River Port on time at 8.0 a.m. and disembarked at 9.0 a.m. to visit the Hermitage Museum. Our passengers made the usual procession through other moored ships and the landing stage to reach a waiting 'Meteor' class hydrofoil. Once we were all distributed around the three cabins of the hydrofoil, we roared off downstream to the centre of the city. It certainly seemed a great way to reach the museum because we disembarked at a landing stage right opposite the main entrance to the museum, merely waiting for the pedestrian lights to turn green before crossing the busy road en masse to join the crowds already milling around.

Our entry had been timed for 10.0 a.m. (when the museum opened) to avoid the worst of the crowds. Although, unusually, photography is permitted in the museum, bags and bulky coats are not so we made use of the cloakroom before passing through the electronic turnstiles. The original Hermitage was built to house Catherine the Second's collection of artworks but the State Hermitage Museum now also incorporates the Winter Palace, the Small Hermitage, the New Hermitage and the Hermitage Theatre. About three million exhibits are displayed in over three hundred rooms - whatever you've read about this world-famous museum doesn't prepare you for the sensory overload of being there. The quality and breadth of the exhibits quite knocked me out.

The Armorial Hall, designed in 1839, was intended for formal receptions and balls.

Money has been lavishly expended in returning the buildings to their original grandeur, a breath-taking amalgam of baroque and classical. We made our way up the main staircase of the Winter Palace, originally used by Ambassadors being given audiences in various state rooms and toured a number of the main rooms with our guide, Dmitri. Dmitri's style in rushing us around the major exhibits so as to give us some free time to re-visit places of particular interest was not very popular with some members of the group I was with. Needless to say, the two and a half hours we spent here is nowhere near enough time - two and a half weeks might be more appropriate. My pictures taken in the State Museum are here. Be warned, some of these pictures are dreadful - the low light, the continual press of other visitors, the shortness of time and, yes, my sheer excitement conspired to produce rather disappointing results.

Around 12.30 p.m. we left the Hermitage and boarded a number of waiting coaches which drove all the ship’s passengers to the 'Academy' restaurant nearby. Here, we enjoyed a set 4-course lunch. There was a little time to walk in the gardens opposite the former Stock Exchange (now the Naval Museum), flanked by the two red-painted Rostrol Columns before boarding the coaches for a City Tour with various stops for visits or photographic opportunities. We spent some time in the Peter and Pault Fortress and marvelled at the restoration of the Saints Peter and Paul Cathedral. We stopped to wonder at the elaborate exterior of the Church on the Spilled Blood. The inside has the most intricate mosaics but there was insufficient time to queue to visit the interior. The church was built to mark the place where Alexander II was fatally injured by a bomb in 1881. Construction of the Church and its mosaics took from 1883 to 1907. Despite the church's rather gruesome origins, we saw two newly-wed couples being photographed in its precincts.

Many sights we were only able to take in from the coach, such as the Kazan Cathedral. This Church was built between 1801 and 1811 (during the Napoleonic Campaigns) and is now regarded as a monument to the valour of the Russian army. The church is flanked by two massive curved colonnades said to be inspired by the Vatican. The present Saint Isaac's Cathedral, the fourth to stand on the site, was built between 1818 and 1858. We saw the Admiralty building, made a brief photographic stop at the Mariinsky Palace (built between 1839 and 1844 and now occupied by the City Council) and saw a number of the city's many canals. Each of the canals seemed to have a procession of trip boats of various sizes but, to my surprise, some of them didn't seem very well patronised. Another stop was made at the Smolny Monastery. This was built between 1748 and 1769 in baroque style to the design of Bartholomeo Francesco Rastrelli. Here, we saw two young men with their friends, apparently having made (I presume) a civil partnership.

This was our last stop and the coaches took us directly back to our ship. The weather had been very hot and I think most of the passengers were exhausted by the time we arrived back at the ship at 6.0 p.m.

My pictures of our arrival at St. Petersburg and then of our City Tour in the afternoon are here.

Pictures of the River Terminal are here.

Sivirstroy

Friday 22nd July 2011

When I got up, the ship had already left Lake Onega and was sailing downstream on the Svir River. Near Podporozhye we entered the Upper Svir Lock adjacent to the Verkhne-Svirskaya Hydro-electric plant opened in 1951.

Verkhne-Svirskaya Hydro-electric plant.

Having negotiated this lock, we continued downstream. On our right, near Uslanka, we saw a massive stockyard with around twelve overhead cranes serving the various bays. As we passed, I counted only one bay being used for logs and one or two bays with coal. It must have been a very different sight in its heyday.

Large stockyard with Overhead Travelling Cranes.

Once more, the forests closed in on both sides of the river, pierced by the occasional small village. The landing stage of Mandrogy came up on our left. Four river cruise ships were berthed, two by two. There were some large wooden buildings, including one still under construction. A few people were boating or swimming in the river. A 'typical Russian Village' was re-created there in 1996, with hotels, restaurants, museums and craft workshops. Mandrogy forms a calling-point for the cruise boats, but we sailed past. Soon, the hydro-electric power station at the Lower Svir Lock came into view but we altered course to port to bring us alongside a large barge which had been modified for use as a landing stage. It appeared that we were to enjoy our own 'retail opportunities' before passing through the lock. The area between the river and a public road had been quite nicely prepared with a series of cafes and souvenir stalls. I'm told the gifts were of good quality and fairly reasonably prices but I'm afraid I react fairly badly to these contrived experiences and I quickly headed out of the 'craft village' for the public road.

The road to the left seemed to head inland so I turned right along a residential road parallel to the river bank, walking in the direction of the Lock and Power Station. The village of Sivirstroy has a population of around 1,000 and seemed to be a reasonably prosperous place. A fairly grand villa was under construction on the river side of the road. I passed the war memorial which was festooned with wreathes and came to a small picnic area looking towards the power station. A couple of small boats were presumably used by amateur fishermen.

A picnic area on the river bank at Sivirstory.

At the end of the village, a track lead off to the Power Station and what looked like the boiler room for a district heating system. A solitary lady was waiting at a bus shelter. Beyond, there was a vista of trees. I turned onto another residential road, running roughly parallel to the road I'd just taken. I passed two unidentified public buildings, the church and an infant school (quite deserted - Summer Holidays? I wondered). There were a few people about but it was very peaceful and the tree-lined road with neat brick and stucco houses, each with its own garden looked very pleasant.

Sivirstroy.

I passed what must have been a civilian air raid shelter. One of the doors was standing open but I didn't summon up the coutage to explore further. By this time, I was close to my starting point so I made a brief foray on the road heading inland. A picturesque lake lay on my left with a broad sandy beach, with lots of Russians enjoyed the sunny weather. On my right, partly hidden by trees, a small medical centre and a rather nondescript 5-story block of apartments. There were bus lay-bys on both sides of the road and then trees, as far as I could see.

On the way back to the ship, I passed an impressive statue to S.M. Kirov. Once again, I had to write down the Cyrillic characters and ask one of the shipboard guides to 'Latinise' it to 'Kirov'. She claimed not to know of the subject of the statue, but the dates on the statue suggest it commemorates Sergei Kirov, who rose to high rank but was assasinated in 1934. Like all Russian history, the tale is convoluted and bloody - see 'The Kirov Murder'.

I came back to the riverbank just upstream of the ship, where I found a few dwelling in a more traditional style, then I returned to the ship. At 4.0 p.m. we slipped our moorings and entered the Lower Svir Lock. This was the last lock on our journey. As we passed through the lock, I had closer views of the adjacent Nizhne-Svirskaya hydro-electric station which was completed in 1934. These Stalin-era engineering achievements are impressive, but it's sobering to remember that most (all?) were completed using forced labour.

We passed Lodeynoe Pole, with a passenger ferry at the landing stage and numerous apartment blocks and run-down engineering works. The peace was shattered for about ten minutes by a young man on a jet-ski who 'buzzed' our ship, showing off in a way common to young men the world over.

Later in the evening, we entered Lake Ladoga (which is Europe's biggest lake). During the night, we crossed Lake Ladoga and entered the Neva River which would take us to St. Petersburg.

My pictures around Sivirstroy are here.

My pictures taken from Sivirstroy to Lake Lagoda are here.

Kizhi Island

Thursday 21st July 2011

Lake Onega is the second largest lake in Europe and its shape is said to resemble a clawed lobster. The lake contains over 1300 islands, one of which is Kizhi. It took us some hours the cross this inland sea, passing various river cruise ships and two speeding hydrofoils.

Eventually, we spotted a small wooden church on a nearby island. We were approaching Kizhi! For the first time, two house pennants were flown from the flagstaff at the bow, representing the partners – the red Vodohod flag above the blue AMA Waterways flag. As we approached the landing stage the outline of the very improbable Transfiguration Cathedral came into view. And so did three river cruisers, all similar to our ship, moored three abreast at the single landing pontoon. Once again, I realised that this wasn’t likely to be a quiet, spiritual experience.

Getting ashore here proved more of an ordeal than anywhere else on the trip. A number of mooring lines were run across to the outermost ship of the three, but the captain was dissatisfied with one wire rope which had been run on a long diagonal between the ships and the two crews had to re-position it. Meanwhile, our passengers were waiting to get off. The reception area on the main deck was crammed, with overflows sitting on the stairs up to the next deck above and the one above that. Eventually people began to move out and at last I was able to descend to the main deck, exchange my credit card sized electronic Room Key for a Boarding Pass, and step across to the next ship.

The next ship to us was the ‘Mikhail Tanich’. I didn’t know that at the time, because the ship’s name only seemed to appear in Cyrillic characters. On my return to our ship, I asked our cruise staff to translate. They said he was a popular songwriter and musician, now fairly old (in fact, he died in 2008, according to the photograph of him displayed on the ship named after him). Having walked through their reception area, we crossed to the reception area of the ‘Ivan Bunin’ (a poet and writer, he was the first Russian to win the Nobel Prize for Literature - see Wikipedia), then the reception area of the ‘Leo Tolstoy’ (writer of novels such as 'War and Peace' and 'Anna Karenina' who, in later life became a moral thinker and social reformer - see Wikipedia). Finally, we reached the landing stage. Looking back, I was horrified to see a fifth ship approaching the landing stage, but I didn’t see what happened to that. Some of our guides were waiting on the landing stage but, because of the crush, some had moved further onto the island so there was reasonable chaos before we were sorted into groups and passed through the entrance gate to ‘Kizhi Federal Open Air Museum of Cultural History and Architecture’.

The improbable-looking Transubstantiation Cathedral on Kizhi.

I learned that “The Kizhi Architectural Ensemble is a UNESCO World-Heritage listed site”. The Transubstantiation Cathedral of wooden construction built here in 1714 is regarded as the star attraction. You can only view it from outside while restoration work is being carried out. Apparently this work has already been in progress for a number of years. An unsightly steel ‘corset’ has been erected around the outside to stop the building from collapsing – it wasn’t clear whether this was an interim stage or the permanent solution. But the 22 fairytale domes still give the building a remarkable appearance. In addition to this remarkable survivor, a number of wooden buildings typical of the region have been re-erected on Kizhi to form an open-air museum of wooden architecture. Materials used are mainly pine and, for roof shingles, aspen. Although these species were used for their long life, quite a lot of new material has been added during restoration. We only looked at the buildings at one end of the island adjacent to the landing stage but there are more buildings spread over the other end of the island which would require more time to explore.

Apart from the 190 of my ship’s visitors, we were sharing the island with all the visitors from the other ships, so it was quite hard to take a picture which didn’t include other people. In a not altogether successful attempt to avoid congestion, our guide changed the order in which we viewed the buildings but we still had to stand around waiting for previous parties to move on.

The house of the peasant Oshevney, re-erected on Kizhi.

The house of the peasant Oshevney dating from 1876 was re-erected on the island in the 1950s. Each room had been been furnished to illustrate the way of life of the people, but if our guide spent too long explaining, then one of the museum attendants would shoo us all into the next room. The house is complete with a separate barn and bathhouse. Many of the exhibits, like the tiny 18th century Chapel of the Archangel Michael (where a bellringer in the tiny belfry played a tune by pulling strings, as we’d seen demonstrated in Yaroslavl), the Church of the Intercession and an odd-looking wooden windmill could only be viewed from outside.

The rather odd-looking Windmill with the Chapel of the Archangel Michael on the right.

However, we went inside the 18th century Church of the Intercession, dwarfed by its near neighbour the Transubstantiation Cathedral. This building is also a ‘native’ of the island, being used for services until 1937 and, since 1994, functioning again as a church.

Near the Transubstantiation Cathedral, I noticed a second small landing stage with an awful modern roof which I guessed was for arriving VIPs. When I visited, a Fire Boat was moored there. Fire is a particular hazard for a wooden museum: the Transubstantiation Cathedral has a Fire Main run around the outside.

By this time, the island was noticeably quieter as some of the ships had departed. We returned to our ship and enjoyed dinner as we re-traced our route and sailed south-east back across Lake Onega.

Kizhi has its own website. The English homepage is here.

My pictures of Kizhi Island are here.

The Volga – Baltic Canal

Thursday 21st July 2011

On Thursday morning, I woke around 5.0 a.m. as we were entering the second lock on the Volga – Baltic Canal (Lock 5). The lock is built on an embankment, above the level of the surrounding land, so it must look odd from outside. It looked pretty odd from my standpoint. The lock chamber is 270 metres long, allowing a second river cruiser to follow us into the lock. Lock width is 17.8 metres.

A second cruise ship follows us into Lock 5.

Once both ships had securely moored to ‘floating mooring hooks’ set in vertical guidance recesses in the wall of the lock chamber, the upper lock gate was closed and the sluices opened, discharging water into the lower pound and lowering the ships 14 metres. The double lower lock gates were then opened and the ‘traffic lights’ changed from red to green.

The ship did not immediately move and I soon worked out why. The next lock (lock 4) was only a few hundred yards ahead and a cargo ship was emerging from this lock and sailing towards us. Our ship waited until the freighter was clearing the lock before slowly moving ahead. A second, similar freighter followed the first out of the long number 4 lock.

Passing the first of two freighters between Lock 5 and Lock 4.

We passed both ships ‘port-to-port’, that is to say, we kept to the right. Both ships were riding low in the water so were presumably loaded but I’ve no idea what the cargo was as all the sliding hatch covers were closed. We entered the lock, followed by the other river cruiser. The lock entrance was flanked by the usual two equipment /control towers. They are of brick construction with a concrete facing and major repairs were in hand on the left hand building. All the concrete facing had been removed and was in course of being replaced. It looked as if the right hand tower had already received this restoration. There was a small village on our left, half hidden by trees. Otherwise, the view was densely forested rolling hills. The lock was emptied, the lower gates opened and we moved into the pound connecting locks 4 and 3.

The bank on our left had been recently improved by piling and providing space for waiting vessels to tie-up. A decent gravel surface had been provided and electric lighting fitted throughout. Some of the lighting standards also carried closed-circuit television cameras. We moved into the lock, followed by our ‘shadow’ cruise ship and, once again, the chamber was emptied and the lower gates opened. As we left the lock, we passed a moored freight vessel, waiting for its turn the enter the lock. At this point, the river broadened and we passed a number of ships waiting at anchor, loaded timber carriers and oil tankers.

Just before Lock 2, more construction work was in progress with two floating cranes involved in piling a new wing wall. A swing bridge took a small road across the lock entrance. The bridge had been swung aside to allow us to pass and a single car was waiting to cross. Only a half lifting barrier and flashing lights prevented the car from a watery fate. The original construction on this series of locks seems inferior to some of the earlier work. Yet some builder had seen fit to place an inscription on rather battered tie-plate, built up in weld metal with the date ‘1960’ and the name (in Cyrillic characters) 'Pilikin'. There were also three letters 'b B B' arranged in a triangle. I wondered if this was the equivalent to the old "Mason's Mark" - the "Welder's Mark".

After the locking operation, we entered a very broad stretch of river. I was intrigued as we passed a tug propelling a single barge. The barge was loaded with a huge steel fabrication and a fabrication comprising a large cylinder with various pipe connections. Both items were painted green and I guessed that they were for the oil and gas industry, but I really had no idea. We passed more ships at anchor, pointing upstream, cargo carriers and oil tankers. A river cruiser and two patrol launches going upstream passed us. As I looked behind, I saw that we’d still got our ‘shadow’.

Our ship and its ‘shadow’ gently moved into Lock 1. A security guard was patrolling with a gun. I think it was the first gun I’d seen since arriving in Russia (apart from those in museums). The lock operated without incident and I noticed that the left bank of the pound had also received the modernisation I’d seen between Locks 4 and 3. Two ocean-going oil tankers were moored here.

On the right bank we passed firstly a small tank farm with its own quay (occupied only by a yacht), then a large pile of logs. A floating crane and a cargo ship were moored by the timber. Beyond the logs there was a gravel dump attended by two floating cranes and another cargo ship. One hatch cover was open and I could see gravel in the hold. A member of the crew was hosing down the deck. Next, on the left, we passed another large pile of logs with a tracked bulldozer fussing around the logs. A bucket dredger was moored here. On the right a small cargo boat had pushed its bow against a recess in the bank so that the hull was perpendicular to the river. It looked very odd. A large tank was mounted on the foredeck and I could see a tangle of pipes and hoses but there was no activity to give a clue as to the purpose. I’d seen them seeding a lawn in the Transfiguration Monastery in Yaroslavl by spraying water apparently mixed with grass and I could only suppose that the cargo boat was engaged in some similar process, stabilising the river bank perhaps, but I don’t know.

Passing another cruise ship on the vast expanse of Lake Onega.

We’d passed through the last lock on this section and soon we were into Lake Onega en route to our next stopping point, Kizhi Island.

My pictures of the Volga-Baltic Canal are here.

Goritsy, Russian Republic

Wednesday 20th July 2011

The Sheksna Lock being filled to raise our ship.

We left the Rybinsk Reservoir and entered the winding Lower Sheksna River. At the double parallel lock at Sheksna, our ship was raised 13 metres to enter the Upper Sheksna River, leading to Beloe Lake (White Lake). As we approached land, we could see the Goritsky Convent of the Resurrection, a complex of white-painted buildings variously dated between the 16th and 19th centuries. Wooden scaffolding was visible around the main church as years of neglect were slowly being reversed. Two river cruise ships were already moored - 'Leo Tolsty' against the landing pontoon and 'Ivan Bunin' "doubled-up" against the 'Leo Tolsty'. We moored on top of the 'Ivan Bunin' so, to reach the shore, we had to pass through the reception areas of the other two ships.

With five or six hundred vistors in the area as we arrived, I knew it wasn't going to be peaceful. But I still wasn't quite expecting the long row of souvenir stalls the footpath took us past, together with a number of permanent, wooden buildings forming Craft Centres and Cafes. At the end of the footpath, there was a 4- or 5-bay bus station with more souvenir stalls. It was fairly chaotic for a few minutes as large coaches (mostly German) came and went and our guides sorted us onto the correct coach. We drove through the village of Goritsky (mainly traditional Russian wooden houses) for the 4 kilometer drive to the town of Kirillov. The town was named after Saint Kirill. In English, that's Saint Cyril which, as one of the passengers commented, sounds straight out of Monty Python.

The imposing defenses of the Kirillo-Belozersky Monastery.

Kirill founded what's now called the Kirillo-Belozersky Monastery at the end of the 14th century. Over the next 200 years, the buildings were greatly expanded. The 2 kilometre long defensive wall encloses around 12 hectares of land, making it the largest monastery in Russia. Although it is now preserved as a museum, receiving around 250,000 visitors a year, a small community of monks has been re-established. The buildings are genuinely old (unlike many churches in Russia which have been re-created) and, had it not been quite so busy, I think I'd have found it a spiritual place. We spent some time in the museum, looking at more icons and other religious artefacts. We spent some time in the souvenir shop which extended over a number of rooms. In one of these rooms, we were treated to another display of a capella singing but I resisted the temptation to buy their CD.

Lake Siverskoye.

The monastery complex is adjacent to Lake Siverskoye and the most peaceful part of the tour was the walk we took along the lake edge. Of course, there was the usual group of Russians relaxing, swimming and diving. All-in-all, I was sorry to get back on the coach and return to the ship.

The 'Leo Tolstoy' and the 'Ivan Bunin' had departed and our ship was now moored directly to the landing pontoon. Another ship, apparently travelling south rather than north had arrived and tied up to a second landing stage I hadn't spotted before. For once, everybody returned to the ship on time so that, at 4.0 p.m., we were able to cast off and continue north. We passed extensive swamp land and the pathetic-looking remains of a church abandoned when the area was intentionally flooded.

Eventually, Beloe Lake gave way to the river leading to the locks of the Volga-Baltic canal. I went to sleep expecting to wake up when we entered the first lock but, in fact, we were approaching the second lock before I woke.

My pictures of Goritsy and the Kirillo-Belozersky Monastery are here.

Rybinsk Reservoir, Russia

Tuesday 19th July 2011

We left Yaroslavl around 2.0 p.m. Our trip to Yaroslavl had been a ‘side trip’ so we had make our way upstream on the Volga to return to Rybinsk Reservoir

As we left Yaroslavl, we passed a huge engineering works with a derelict-looking slipway. I couldn’t decide whether any work was still carried out on the site. Once clear of Yaroslavl, the river banks were lined with the usual forests, with occasional sandy beaches with swimmers or fishermen.

Approaching the city of Rybinsk, we passed huge grain silos on our left, connected to a jetty with a grain elevator. But it all looked very derelict, apart from a collection of cellular radio antenna mounted on top of the grain silos. Then we passed an oil terminal with a tanker berthed. A diesel locomotive was shunting a long line of bogie tank wagons. Next came a long quay with ten electric grab cranes and large mounds of sand and gravel, similar to the one we’d seen in Moscow. Another massive collection of grain silos also appeared out of use. Extensive conveyors linked the silos to the quay which again appeared to be equipped with grain elevators. The quay was empty, apart from a moored floating crane.

Grain Silos near Rybinsk.

As we drew level with Rybinsk, I noticed a single moored hydrofoil, similar in design to the ones I’d seen on the Yangtze River in China (mentioned in my article 'China'). We then passed under a reinforced concrete road bridge of fairly early design with two main spans and two approach spans. It appeared that some problems had been encountered because the central pier had elaborate steel scaffolding to support the roadway. We passed a large church with a separate belltower and an impressive building facing the river which looked as if it could be city administration.

Rybinsk.

A large passenger ship was moored nearby and the city stretched out on the landward side. There's more details in Wikipedia here. Then we passed a number of modern, multi-storey apartment blocks and another shipyard with a deserted slipway before reaching the Rybinsk Locks.

Rybinsk has two identical, parallel locks and we used one to be lifted 4 metres back to the level of the Rybinsk Reservoir. There's also a 346 MW Hydroelectric Generating Station adjacent to the locks (see Wikipedia article here).

The reservoir is a huge inland sea – we spent the night crossing this huge mass of water on a North-Westerly heading to reach the Lower Sheksna River.

My pictures are here.

Yaroslavl, Russia

Tuesday 19th July 2011

Around 7.0 a.m. we arrived at Yaroslavl and berthed at a modern terminal with one other river cruiser already moored astern of us. After an early breakfast, I decided to go for a walk on my own since the arranged City Tour was not until nine o’clock. The river embankment has been improved and provides an attractive place to watch the river traffic. I walked as far as the modern road bridge over the river and then turned inland. Building work was in progress on various sites creating good quality multi-storey apartments. But the majority of apartments were old and in poor maintenance. Each sheet-steel street door gave access to a number of apartments. Ground floor windows were invariably heavily shuttered. Quite a few people were about, making their way to work. I saw trolley buses, many with lady drivers, and battle-scarred local buses. Most of the traffic was private cars, comprising, it seemed to me, rather more battered specimens than I’d seen around Moscow.

Yaroslavl is situated at the confluence of the Kotorosi River and the Volga. It became an important manufacturing town in the nineteenth century and was joined to Moscow by railway in 1870. In the Soviet era, manufacturing was further developed featuring vehicle and tyre production. More information can be found on Wikipedia.

Our coach trip took us first to the recently-rebuilt park flanked by the two rivers, neatly laid out with manicured gardens. The war memorial here has an Eternal Flame and two huge carved blocks of stone – one commemorating the contribution of servicemen, the other acknowledging the contribution of those left behind who managed to keep industry and home life going. Within the park, we then visited the huge Assumption Cathedral in traditional style with five large gilded domes. It was actually a completely new creation, opened last year!

The Bell Tower at the Transfiguration Monastery.

The 12th century Transfiguration Monastery right in the centre of Yaroslavl is an ancient, walled enclosure with an interesting collection of buildings. This was our next detination. It’s principally a museum with numerous souvenir shops and cafes. You can also pay to see a captive bear (I didn’t). The bear has a nice enclosure and I’m sure is well looked after but I can’t approve of animals in captivity. The bear has been the symbol of Yaroslavl for a thousand years since Prince Yaroslav impressed the local tribes by wrestling and killing a bear they’d set upon him. However, I was able to enjoy a display of bell ringing. A number of bells, the largest about two feet tall, had been set up on a portable stand. A piece of string was attached to each clapper and the remote ends of the strings were tied together. The bell ringer stood holding the bundle of strings and by deftly twisting his wrist and plucking strings individually with his other hand, he was able to produce remarkable tunes.

On leaving the monastery, the Market and the ATM machines were pointed out to us and we were given almost an hour ‘free time’ to shop or explore. The population of Yaroslavl is around 600,000 and it was interesting to watch people going about their business. With manufacturing industry currently in a depressed state in Russia, tourism is particularly important and they are keen to encourage both Russian and foreign visitors. I wandered round a few city blocks, through the dry goods market and the (very clean) food market. I ended up in a square flanked by a modern building also containing a small, restored 19th century chapel. The large fountain was popular but I wasn’t sure about the tall tower in the centre of the fountain with three working television screens.

Fountains with Television, Yaroslavl

The gardens appeared to be hosting some sort of light-hearted gardening competition, for numbered areas contained, for example, a rather cartoon-style deer and a car. I think you needed to be Russian.

We then drove to the former residence of the Governor of Yaroslavl. This was an agreeable 18th century building overlooking the river. The former Governor was an art collector so the building has now become the Yaroslavl Museum of Russian Art. There's a website (in Russian) here but you can click on 'English' for a translation. With an imaginative flair, the female guides are in period dresses and claim to be daughters of the Governor. We were shown through a number of rooms with pictures on display. Works by ‘Anonymous’ and ‘Unknown’ were common but I was delighted to see one painting of the Moscow Kremlin by my new hero Vereshchagin. The Governor’s office was very well laid out with his desk and artefacts and it offered wonderful views across the river. In the ballroom, we were treated to a glass of sparkling wine whilst we listened to a trio in period dress (piano, violin and viola) play. Two of the Governor’s 'daughters' then danced for us, before each selected a surprised male partner from the visitors for a lively dance.

The former Residence of the Governor of Yaroslavl.

The coaches returned us to the ship by 1.45 p.m. and at two o’clock, the ship slipped away from the quay to continue our journey. I’ve not said much about life on the ship but the meals have proved varied and enjoyable. In addition to food, there are also lots of shipboard activities, most of which I’ve not taken. For instance, after we left Yaroslavl, the following was on offer during the remainder of the day:-

- Talk on Russian Vodka (with tasting)
- Demonstration of cooking Blinys (Russian pancakes – also with tasting)
- Lecture on ‘Russia in the last 25 years’ (I attended this)
- Live piano music in the Melody Bar
- Lecture on ‘Russian Costumes’
- Balalaika Concert

In addition, the satellite television in each cabin had 11 channels, with occasional special-interest videos like ‘Catherine the Great’. All-in-all, we were kept fairly busy.

My pictures of Yaroslavl are here.

Uglich, Russia

Monday 18th July 2011

With no hint of the rain we’d had in Moscow, Monday was sunny and warmed up to 30 degrees Celsius. Approaching Uglich, we were lowered another 11 metres by a further lock. Here, a Triumphal Arch across the canal had been provided at the upper entrance. I gather this had been built by German prisoners. As we entered the lock, we were followed by two small boats which tied up on the opposite lock wall to us and ‘locked through’ with us. Each had about eight men in some sort of naval uniform. I rather imagine they were cadets.

The Triumphal Arch at the entrance to Uglich Lock. The upper gate is being raised. The two rowing boats can be seen bottom left.

Shortly after leaving the lock, we made a broad, sweeping turn to the right to approach the town of Uglich (population around 35,000). We moored at a pontoon near a modern white building which turned out to be an ‘Intourist’ hotel. From our mooring, we could clearly see the hydro-electric installation near the lock which uses the Volga to generate electricity. By this time, the small boats had caught up with us, six oarsmen in each boat producing a fine sight. I didn’t see where they went.

We were to be divided into lunch groups of about 12 to have lunch in a typical Russian home, deliberately with no interpreter present to make it more interesting. A series of 20-seat local minibuses had been chartered to deliver us to our hosts. With around 190 passengers to be moved, this was quite a logistical problem and required each bus to make two trips from the landing stage. A very bumpy journey of about ten minutes took my lunch group and one other past derelict-looking factories and fairly basic four-storey apartment blocks to a lane with a number of traditional wooden houses. We were then divided between two houses participating in this interesting experience. We met our charming, mature red-headed hostess who spoke not a word of English and she invited us into her home. Her husband (also rather red-headed) was there to meet us but, duty done, he very quickly absented himself. There was a short, narrow staircase to negotiate to reach the living area. A long table (or, more likely, two or three tables) had been laid for a party of twelve with an assortment of chairs and a settee. Once we were seated we were plied with an alcoholic drink. We were unsure whether it was a home-made produce or not but everybody agreed it was very strong. The meal started with a delicious cabbage soup using home-grown vegetables. The main course featured a plentiful supply of large boiled potatoes supported by a range of vegetables, meat and a sardine-like fish. Sweet buns filled with jam formed the dessert. Our hostess for lunch with two of her guests. Note the large tapestry on the wall.

It was a merry occasion and our hostess proudly showed us around her garden which produced all the vegetables until suddenly, realising the time, she shooed us back to the waiting minibus for the bone-shaking ride back to the town centre.

In the town square, we sorted ourselves back into our accustomed groups (Red, Yellow, Green etc.) for our walking tour. Back in Moscow, I had chosen the Yellow Group which was for Active Walkers. We were introduced to our local guide and set off for a walking tour of Uglich’s Kremlin, a peaceful, partly wooded area with a number of historical buildings adjacent to the river. The town’s name is derived from the Russian word ‘ugol’ meaning ‘angle’, because of the sharp turn made by the Volga River here.

It’s a historic place. Ivan the Terrible gave the town to his two year old son Dmitry. On Ivan’s death Tsar Fyodor banished his stepbrother Dmitry and his mother to Uglich. Seven years later, in 1591, Dmitry was murdered here, it was believed by Fyodor’s henchman Boris Godunov. A church was built at the site of the murder and we visited the present church built in 1692 called the Church of Prince Dmitry-on-the-Blood.

The Church of Prince Dmitry on the Blood, Uglich

Next, we visited the Palace of the Princes of Uglich built in 1480 and now the town museum.

Finally, we were seated in a building which doubles as a concert hall and art gallery where five local singers calling themselves ‘Koucheg’ sang a capella, supported by a marvellous bass singer.

We were then on ‘free time’ until 5.45 p.m. so I was able to explore the charming town on foot, photographing churches and other buildings.

Whilst we were on our town tour, two more river cruisers had tied-up at a small jetty adjacent to our mooring. As we left Uglich, just after 6 p.m., another river cruiser was arriving to moor in our place. Tourism is clearly very important but, of course, many of the tourists are from the Russian Federation itself.

Later that night, we entered the man-made Rybinsk Reservoir. This was created by damming the Volga to raise its level and allow the construction of hydro-electric installations which provide power to the surrounding area. We continued sailing through the night, in order to reach our next stopping point, Yaroslavl early the next morning.

Pictures:
Uglich Lock
Uglich Town

Navigating the Moscow Canal

Sunday 17th July 2011

Around 2.30 p.m. we started our journey of over 1300 km. to Saint Petersburg, during which numerous locks would lower our vessel from the 162 metre elevation of the Moscow Northern River Station to almost sea level.

Leaving the Moscow Northern River Station

On our right, we passed a long quay equipped with a forest of electric grab cranes. On the landward side of the cranes, there was a range of ‘mountains’ of sand and gravel. Although a Sunday afternoon, a couple of cranes were at work. Most of these construction materials are brought to Moscow in large, unpowered Dumb Barges which are propelled by sturdy tugs. The tugs have a specially-designed bow to allow a barge to be close-coupled. The barges have a complementary arrangement which includes a substantial coupling so that the two vessels may be locked together. On our way north, we were to see many of these sand barges, feeding the seemingly insatiable appetite of Moscow’s construction projects. Occasionally, we saw tugs propelling two barges. We also saw a number of sand carriers which were conventional, self-powered barges.

I was surprised to see a former warship tied up. Obviously de-commissioned, she still carried her fleet number ‘754’. Gun turrets were still in place, but the gun barrels had been removed. Various radar antenna were visible.

Our ship has three rather squat funnels – it was clear why when we passed under a road bridge with 14 metres clearance - our funnels cleared the underside of the bridge with perhaps 1 metre to spare.

We were now in the Moscow Canal in a much less urban setting and small forests lined the banks in places. The canal was built in the Stalin era using convict labour and the buildings associated with the canal have many classical affectations. Passing through a wooded section of the canal, we passed a colonnaded building carrying graffiti. Wide steps led down to the water and a number of youngsters found it a convenient bathing station. As our journey continued, we found many more places being used by groups for bathing. There were also fishermen, often with small tents.

A well-patronised bathing place on the Moscow Canal

With rather poor timing, the Captain had scheduled his welcome party for 6.45 p.m., as we were approaching the first of six locks on the Moscow Canal. The Captain briefly introduced his officers and staff to the passengers and then disappeared back to the Bridge. Shortly afterwards, I excused myself as it’s always fascinating to watch locks in operation, particularly with larger vessels. The upper lock entrance was flanked on both sides by a colonnaded building, each carrying two statues on top. After we’d entered the lock, the upper gate was closed behind us. At each lock, the upper gate was a single gate which rotated out of the floor of the lock chamber to rise up above the surface.

Having entered Lock 6, the upper gate is raised behind the ship to allow the lock chamber to be emptied.

Water was then discharged from the lock chamber, lowering the ship by about 8 metres. The massive double hinged gates at the bottom of the lock were then swung open, fitting into recesses in the lock walls. The lower lock entrance was flanked by two collonaded buildings, just like the upper lock entrance.

We passed through another three similar locks during the evening. The buildings at each lock had a different style. The buildings at the fourth lock had pillared rotundas crowning the buildings at the upper end and bronze statues of a sailing ship under full sail at the lower end. During the night, we passed through two more locks but I didn’t wake, although one of the passengers told me next morning that there was quite a bump in one of the locks. Since leaving Moscow, the ship had been lowered 49 metres to the level of Rybinsk Reservoir on the Volga River.

My pictures of our transit of the Moscow Canal are here.

Inside the Kremlin

Sunday 17th July 2011

On Sunday morning, the weather was dull and it was starting to rain. By the time our coaches had taken us to central Moscow, the rain was sluicing down. The raincoat I’d packed in England as an afterthought worked very well, but I soon discovered that my leather shoes were not quite as watertight as I’d believed. We walked through the gardens in the shadow of the Kremlin wall to reach the tower through which we were going to enter. A lengthy queue was already waiting.

After a few minutes, people started to be admitted and it wasn’t too long before we were inside one of the buildings within the Kremlin, in the dry. The word ‘Kremlin’ refers to any fortified area within a town, rather similar to an English castle. The Moscow Kremlin wall is two kilometres long, enclosing a substantial area with room for armouries, palaces and cathedrals. The part of the building we’d been admitted to was a rather gloomy affair with a cloakroom and shop. Washrooms were nearby. When our flock had been collected together, we moved outside (remaining within the Kremlin grounds), walked a few yards along a pavement and re-entered by another door leading to the State Armoury Chamber. A sign on this door clarified that the museum has four opening sessions during the day (rather charmingly referred to as ‘seances’ on the notice on the deoor). The sessions were 10:00 – 11:30, 12:00 – 13:30, 14:30 – 16:00 and 16:30 – 18:00. We were clearly part of the 10 o’clock contingent.

We started on the upper floor passing through a series of high-ceilinged exhibition rooms each containing huge glazed display cabinets. Each cabinet held myriad artefacts representing Russia’s history. Gold, silver and porcelain pieces, armour and weapons – soon the mind was reeling. On the lower level, we found costumes and dresses displayed and a collection of carriages. Viewing conditions were not ideal, because there seemed to be a few hundred visitors vying for the limited space. Unfortunately, photography is not permitted inside the museum.

It was raining quite hard as we emerged from the Armoury Building and followed the pavement leading uphill. The imposing Great Kremlin Palace lay on our left and, because we were on the high ground, on our right we could see over the Kremlin wall and view the grey waters of the Moscow River and the classically-styled buildings on the opposite bank. As continued our walk in the rain, we passed the Annunciation Cathedral on our left, white-painted and its multiple golden domes, each carrying an elaborate cross. We turned left, to head for the central square, placing the Annunciation Cathedral on our left and the Archangel Michael Cathedral on our right. Ahead of us lay the Assumption Cathedral, white-painted and with gilded domes topped with crosses but also decorated with scaffolding because of restoration work.

We visited the Archangel Michael Cathedral, the small Church of the Deposition of the Holy Robe and the Assumption Cathedral. We made a brief tour of the special exhibition of the work of Karl Faberge and similar craftsmen.

It was still raining when we looked at the Tsar Bell which, at over 200 tons, claims to be the largest in the world, displayed together with the 11-ton broken piece. This allows Burma to claim that the Mingun Bell is the largest 'uncracked bell' in the world (see my article 'Back to Mandalay'). In Moscow, the huge clapper for the cracked bell is on display. Russians call the clapper the bell's 'tongue'. We also looked at the huge Tsar Cannon, built to show the abilities of the Russian ironfounders. On our way to the gate, we paused at the modern State Kremlin Palace. This was built in the Khrushchev era, using a concrete and aluminium construction technique which did not become established. This massive building, seating 6,000, is now in occasional use as a concert hall. Just before we left the Kremlin, a range of buildings on the left, surmounted by a curious church, was identified as the part of the Kremlin where Stalin lived. After a few more minutes walk in the rain we rejoined the coaches for the journey back to the ship, wet but after a fascinating experience. After a shower and a change of damp clothes, I took lunch at 1.30 p.m.

Click for my pictures 'Inside the Kremlin'.

Moscow by Night

Saturday 16th July 2011

A little after 9.30 p.m. we set off by coach for the optional ‘Moscow by Night’ tour. It was just starting to get dark and still very warm – I took a jacket with me but never used it.

Our first stop was at ‘Victory Park’. This is one of a number of large public parks in the city. ‘Victory Park’ is dominated by a tall obelisk in the form of a bayonet commemorating the second world war. Two classical figures, one winged with a wreath, the other playing a pipe emerge mysteriously near the top of the bayonet. At the base another classical figure represents Saint George on horseback. Nearby, there’s a large, low building arranged in an arc. For a modern concrete building I found the effect quite pleasant. But Russians don’t seem to do minimalism so there are two more Saint George on horseback figures on the roof and also a dome structure behind, with a slender spire. There were still plenty of people around the park, including a number of young people on in-line skates. As we waited for our coach, there was another wedding party, in obvious high spirits, just arriving by car.

By now, it was dark but still warm. We stopped at the New Maiden’s Convent for photographs. The convent looks more like a castle than a convent, surrounded by a high, crenellated wall but painted white and floodlighted and with a reflecting pool in front, it made a pretty subject. In the last few years, it has become a working convent once again with, I understand, ten nuns and ten novices.

Another trip by coach and we were dropped off at the usual spot for Red Square. There were plenty of people about, all good natured. This time, we were allowed to explore on our own so I made my way through Red Square, past St. Basil’s Cathedral and had time to discover that the ‘bungee jumping car’ was a ‘Top Gear Live’ stunt.

It gave me a strange feeling, walking through Red Square just before midnight. I’m old enough to remember television coverage of the huge military parades in Red Square demonstrating the strength of the Soviet Union. Back then, nuclear conflict seemed inevitable and the fear of perishing “All suffused in an incandescent glow” (as Tom Lehrer’s lyric has it) was very real. I remember the politicians standing on top of Lenin’s Tomb and the ranks of lower level functionaries on the marble seating flanking the tomb. The Kremlin, Lenin’s Tomb and St. Basil’s Cathedral are all floodlit and the effect is quite powerful. A little while ago, ‘GUM’ was outlined in lights for a special event but the effect (almost like a talented child’s drawing, it seemed to me) was so popular that it has been retained permanently. In Red Square at night, it’s easy to see why the place is so symbolic to the whole world. Earlier, one of our guides had pointed out a distinction in perception – whereas foreign television journalists always seek to have the distinctive outline of St. Basil’s Cathedral in the background, Russian journalists use the adjacent Kremlin tower with its huge striking clock as the symbol of ‘Mother Russia’.

My tour party met up at the equestrian statue of Marshal Zukov at ten to midnight, as arranged and, tired but happy, we clambered back on our coach. I noticed that the digital clock in the coach read ’00:00’ - ‘Midnight in Moscow’.

Pictures of my 'Midnight in Moscow'.