Baltic Trip - St Petersburg      19th - 25th May:

19th May
    It wasn't long before we reached the shipping channel we were obliged to follow. At this point it was a couple of miles wide, but we knew if would narrow considerably as we approached St Petersburg. The Russians liked to restrict craft to confined areas that they could easily monitor and police, and took no prisoners for those caught trespassing beyond the limits. One ship overtook us about a boats length away. That was too close for comfort, therefore in order to avoid being run down, we clung to just outside the channel, taking great care to keep clear of the prohibited areas.
    We were faced with a novel problem now. Having spent the best part of three weeks at slow speeds because of the wind shortcomings, we had made lightening speed since leaving Helsinki. Our concern now was arriving too early at the customs post in St Petersburg; we had been obliged to inform customs some time in advance of when we would turn up, and that would be the time when we must turn up. I am not sure if bad weather would be an acceptable excuse for being late, but boats had to leave before visas ran out, bad weather or not.
    The tedium of the final stretch into St Petersburg was broken up by a large tanker who weighed anchor and decided to cut across our bow, booming his horn as he did so. Poor Rex felt badly treated, it always happened on his watch.
    The dark shores of the Russian mainland closed in upon us as we neared our destination. As darkness fell, stretches of the shoreline twinkled as if they had been sprinkled with orange glowworms, the burn-offs from a number of refineries, each surrounded by the squat outlines of fleets of oil tankers.
    The shipping channel was now getting narrow and crowded. One large cruise ship was desperate to overtake a slower vessel that was weaving its way along the shipping channel. The bridge of the cruise ship was calling up the other ship on channel 16, presumably to ask the slower vessel to steer a straight course along the outer limit of the channel so that it could be overtaken. The slower vessel never responded to any of the cruise ship calls, either because there was nobody who understood English, or they were dozing off or playing cards or whatever whilst moving under autopilot. I guess the cruise ship reached St Petersburg a tad late.
    Periodically we would get a call from a coastguard official asking us to state our current position. No doubt we were being watched on radar all the way, and occasionally visually. Indeed on my evening watch we were trailed by a large Russian coastguard vessel, which circled us a couple of times before getting bored and disappearing way astern of us. On odd occasions, the coastguard would call us up, we acknowledged, and there would be an endless loop of the coastguard stating, "Yacht Kiitaja", to which we responded with, "This is Kiitaja". The coastguard would give up after a while. Then we twigged that perhaps those particular coastguards spoke very little English, hence the stilted conversation. For future calls we always stated our position, and that seemed to keep the "watchers" perfectly happy.

20th May

Convoy Stretching to the Horizon, Moving Down the Narrow Shipping Channel

    Just after midnight, when there was still light in the sky, I ended my watch by weaving through fifteen huge anchored ships, a memorable experience.
    At a given buoy, we reported into the coastguard as requested, which appeared to be just a formality, and headed on to the island of Kronstadt, about 30 km out from St Petersburg. This island was connected to the mainland by a tidal barrage system, providing similar protection to the city as the Thames barrier. It would also make an ideal defence barrier.
    Kronstadt Island had once been heavily militarised, and until 1992, the only way a foreigner could visit it was by being disguised as a Russian. In 1921 the Kronstadt sailors staged a revolt, demanding freedom of speech and assembly, and the abolition of Bolshevik dictatorship. Just before dawn on March 6th, 45,000 Red Army troops advanced across the iced over sea to Kronstadt. When they were within 500m of the fortress, the island's canons opened fire, rupturing the ice, causing a third of the troops to drown. The assault continued with volunteers laying ladders across the ice floes, and the fortress was eventually stormed. 30,000 were killed on both sides in the struggle, and 2,000 sailors were executed on the spot. Many more were sent to the Gulag.
    The last 15 miles to the St Petersburg customs was spent tootling along just outside the now 200m wide busy shipping channel, trying to make the journey last almost 4 hours so that we could arrive at our allotted time slot. It was a beautiful calm morning with a welcoming, warm sun climbing up from the hazy horizon.
    We tied up to a jetty and waited for either customs or Vladimir to turn up. A Russian official turned up in his smart uniform; he must have been all of 17 years old. He spoke no English, just looked around the boat to check that there were indeed only three of us, and disappeared. Precisely at 10am, Vladimir turned up with two young women who were smartly dressed in differing uniforms. They just inspected our passports and left.
    Vladimir remained and had a very long chat with us. He was a friendly welcoming chap with an excellent command of English. At one time he had been a civil engineer, but over time he had helped other foreign vessels through the hoops and hurdles of gaining access to Russia. He now provided this service full time, and was an honorary member of umpteen sailing organisations. Typically he would be dealing with 30 - 40 foreign vessels each year (though the season is short at that latitude). Apparently we were the first foreign boat this year.
    After the customs officials had dealt with all the passengers who had alighted from a large Helsinki - St Petersburg ferry, Vladimir took Alan to get all our paperwork processed. This was a very time consuming affair with the same two women who had visited the boat earlier. Lots of form filling in triplicate, only to be torn up because the signatures were in blue whilst the rest was in black. Once all had been processed for one woman, identical forms had to be completed for the other woman sitting at the next table. Vladimir apologised for the idiotic beaurocracy; he said that as a Russian you just learn to live with it. Some things had improved in Russia over the last couple of decades, but the state still loved its bureaucracy. I pointed out to him that at one time Russians would have been terrified to be seen talking to a westerner. Vladimir then related a story of how many years ago he had befriended an American couple, and then had to suffer being interrogated by the KGB, as did his wife. When he later did his national service, rather than being allowed to stay at his native St Petersburg, he was posted down to Moscow, where the officials had been instructed to give him a particularly hard time. Things have now changed for the better, though security is being tightened because of terrorism.
    After an age, we were done with customs inbound, and we left for our marina on Krestovsky Island. Krestovsky Ostrov (Island of the Cross) is the largest of the three Kirov Islands, which stand north of the Petrograd Side in the Neva delta. It has for centuries been a popular playground for the general populace of St. Petersburg, with much of the island common ground from the beginning of the 19th century. Today it is rapidly turning into the city's smartest suburb, with an ever-increasing number of elite housing developments encroaching on the public park. However, it still attracts hordes of visitors at weekends, coming to walk through the island's rambling parkland, take advantage of the numerous sporting facilities available, or to visit the Diva Ostrov amusement park.

Park for Culture and Rest

    The exact origin of the name Krestovsky Ostrov is contested. One school of thought links the name to the cross-shaped lake that can apparently be found on the island, while others claim that a large cross was found on the island at some point in history. The third suggestion connects the name to the chapel on the island that is mentioned in records from the 16th century. On Swedish maps dating back to before the founding of St. Petersburg, the island is marked Riisti-Saari - "Cross Island" in Finnish.

Catering Corp Building in the Park for Culture and Rest

    The marina was brand new, still under construction in fact. Vladimir met us there, and latter arranged that we all meet up for a guided tour on Sunday. We also learned from him that diesel was very cheap in Russia; pity we filled up in Helsinki. One problem we would have in St Petersburg would be our limited quantity of water on board, which we had to use sparingly. The reason for this was the city's tap water was unsuitable to drink, containing an undesirable bacteria, and also containing heavy metals.
    In the afternoon I took a leisurely stroll to find where the metro was on the island, and then I crossed one of the many Neva River sections to an island that was reserved purely as a park for culture and rest. It was a sizeable island in its own right, full of trees with the occasional flower beds ablaze with tulips. There were many waterways and boating areas in this park, music pavilions, a museum and tennis courts. Hoards of people were out strolling, cycling, roller skating or fishing - a refreshing breathing space so close to the city.
    In the evening we spruced ourselves up and went off and enjoyed a tasty meal in a nearby restaurant, toasting ourselves, and our epic 1,400 mile adventure so far, with Russian beer, an appropriate way to mark this milestone. The restaurant service was rather unique; the vegetables ordered with some of the meals turned up after the meals had been eaten. We weren't sure if this was a Russian tradition, but the elation of reaching Russia brushed all this aside.

21st May

Kanal Griboedova

Rubbish Dump on Krestovsky Island

    Blue skies and a warm breeze greeted us in the morning. The "coiled springs", Rex and I, uncoiled and went off in search of a supermarket. On our explore, amongst plush new developments, we came across a rubbish dump right in the middle of a select area, with no fencing around it - bizarre!. We stocked up on essentials, and I was glad to receive a text from Dan, who was flying out today, to inform me that his flight was leaving on time. The screen on my mobile was dying, but I was happy to be able to decipher his message.

Mariinskiy Theatre

    Later Rex and I went off towards Sennaya Ploshchad where we were to meet Dan later. The escalator down to the metro was extremely long, the metro being very deep due to the swampland above it. The Soviet Union's best architects were employed to design St Petersburg's metro stations. Thousands of tons of marble, granite and limestone were used to face the walls, and sculptures, mosaics and chandeliers were commissioned from leading artists. The first line opened in 1955.

St Nicholas' Cathedral

    Having emerged into brilliant sunshine at Sennaya Ploshchad (Sennaya Square), we had time to kill so we explored the Kanal Griboedova, taking in the Mariinskiy Theatre, the Rimsky-Korsakov Conservatory and St Nicholas' Cathedral.

Meal Out Near the Marina

    After our brief foray (we would no doubt have a more in depth one later in the week), we returned to the square where I had pre-arranged with Dan to meet up. Rex and I felt we deserved a cool beer each in the hot sunshine. We enjoyed our second one after our successful meet up with Dan; it was great to meet up with him again. St Petersburg airport is unique in that there is no rail access, a bus or taxi must be taken to get to the nearest metro station, or as in Dan's case, direct to the city. He described how, after climbing on board the bus and paying the driver, subsequent Russians who climbed aboard all seated themselves on the bus, and their fares were passed from row to row by the passengers until they reached the driver; a trusting cooperative arrangement.
    We found our way back to the boat, freshened up and retired to a restaurant for an excellent meal. It was a lovely evening, and Dan was amazed to see that there was still daylight at midnight. However, such things don't last for long; a disco nearby was pumping out loud music until 06:30 - Alan was not amused.

22nd May
    Today we had arranged for Vladimir to take us on a guided tour to places off the standard tourist beaten track, which was our request.
    The city we were about to explore had a chequered history. Its founder, Peter the Great (1682 - 1725), was born into rivalry between his mother's family, and that of his father's first wife. So severe was the broken family relationships, that it resulted in Peter witnessing the brutal murder of his family, bringing about in him a hatred of Moscow and distrust of its conservative and scheming society. By 1696 he was a man of great energy, and set about reforming the Russian army, but his dream was of a Russian navy. In 1697 he went on a European tour incognito to study shipbuilding and other skills. On his return to his home land, he lost no time in enforcing westernising reforms.
    By 1703 Peter had secured the Neva river and began to build the Peter and Paul Fortress and a shipyard. The city, which was created on swampland, was built using 40,000 Swedish prisoners-of-war, and by the time of Peter's death there was a population of 40,000, and St Petersburg had gained a reputation as one of Europe's most beautiful cities. In the 20th century it underwent three name changes, three revolutions and a 900 day siege.

Dachas on Krestovsky Island

    After picking us up, Vladimir started his tour by taking us around Krestovsky Island which was an exclusive area where a lot of dachas stood. This area certainly had been popular with the aristocracy at one time, and was still a magnet for the rich.

Smolnyy Cathedral and Smolnyy Convent

    Our drive took us around some of the more popular sights of the city, and then into the residential areas where tourists didn't frequent, including the street where he once lived. He pointed out the house where he had once lived, and told us the sorry tale of how the house had been burgled and almost emptied. He was saddened to see that its exterior was in need of repair.
    It was interesting talking with Vladimir about his view of the political history and the daily lives of people across Russia. The country had its fair share of emigration and immigration issues.

St Nicholas' Cathedral and Bell Tower on the Left

    We returned into the city centre to visit the stunning Baroque St Nicholas' Cathedral, built in the mid 18th century. The building was founded for sailors and Admiralty employees housed in the neighbourhood, and named after St Nicholas, the patron saint of sailors. The cathedral became known as the "Sailors' Church". The exterior of building was powder blue with white Corinthian pilasters and surmounted by five gilded cupolas. Nearby, within the cathedral's leafy grounds and overlooking the intersection of the Kryukov and Griboedov canals, stood a slender four-tiered bell tower crowned by a spire.

Putin's Palace Note the Alarmed Fence with Cameras

    The cathedral followed the Russian tradition of having two churches within it. The lower church was intended for daily use, was ornate and lit by icon lamps, candle and chandeliers. Today, we were fortunate because it was St Nicholas' Day, and we were allowed to enter the upper church. This was even more ornate and awash with gilt. A service was taking place, and Russians were echoing the chants of some unseen priest, all intently following the service despite tourists such as us hovering on the fringes. There were no seats in the cathedral. Vladimir said that often people would attend a complete service which involved standing for 4-5 hours. Even Tsars had been obliged to stand. I felt very privileged to witness the event.
    Our tour continued out towards the countryside past huge areas of modern flats. In the city many old buildings were being pulled down to make way for modern flats. However, UNESCO was starting to complain that the city would soon begin to lose its character if the process was not stopped. It was noticeable that for some unknown reason, all the drainpipes in the city were of 30-50cm diameter. Another feature was that all the roofs were shallow. We asked Vladimir about this, and he went on to discuss the problems the city faced during winter. Men would often venture out onto the roofs and poke the thick snow down before it became too much of a hazard. However, once the snow was on the ground, the problem still remained of how to dispose of it. It couldn't just be dumped in the river since the river would be frozen over, and the snow would be piled high. It was a recurring problem, and seemed to be getting worse. The trend still seemed to be to opt for shallow or flat roofs. He told us of one large building which had been built with a flat roof, and had actually collapsed in on itself due to the weight of snow on its roof, having tragic consequences for those inside at the time.

Prince Constantine's Summer Residence

    Heading towards Peterhof we eventually came to President Putin's Palace (Putin was a native of St Petersburg), a rather grand affair in its own expansive private grounds. Vladimir joked about Putin keeping his movements closely guarded, and of how he would turn up at his palace without notice, sending security in the city into a wild panic. From here we moved a short distance to where Prince Constantine had once lived with his family during the summer.

A 1m Wide Hole in the Road!

    After an excellent tour, Vladimir dropped us off back at the boat, and we thanked him profusely for the tour and sharing his candid views and stories of life in the city and Russia in general.
    Dan and I took a walk through the Central Park of Rest and Culture. Since it was Sunday, it was packed with families basking in the warm sun, and participating in the multitude of activities organised for the children. It seemed as if the whole city was out enjoying these simple pleasures.
    In the evening we ambled along to the western extremity of the island where a new stadium is currently under construction. Zenit is the leading St Petersburg football club, which has frequently lead the Russian top league as well as had good international success. Retracing our steps, we retired to a restaurant we hadn't tried before. The service here was diabolical. Dan and I were given our starters, and then not long afterwards our main courses arrived, whilst Alan and Rex were foaming at the mouth still waiting for sight of their starters. No tip here!
    A noisy disco at a nearby club provided background music to our slumbers until 06:30; Alan was delighted.

23rd May

Nevskiy Prospekt

Gostinyy Dvor

    We had arranged to meet up with Vladimir at noon in order to get Dan's registration paperwork sorted; basically buy a document from a tourist agency, that stated he had been staying at a hotel. This was an elaborate fiddle that folk were making money out of, but the Russians just adored bureaucracy.
    Once we had that taken care of we headed off along the busy Nevskiy Prospekt, the city's main thoroughfare and artery. A small detour was made to window shop in one of the columned arcades of Gostinyy Dvor. Gostinyy dvor literally meant a coaching inn, but as trade flourished around the inns, with travelling merchants setting up their stalls, it later came to mean "trading rows". The original wooden structure was burnt down in the early 18th century, and its latest turbulent phase was during the Siege of Leningrad. Today, this prominent yellow building, with its columned arcade and massive porticos, retained its layout of "stalls".

Armenian Church

Church on Spilled Blood

    Proceeding further down Nevskiy Prospekt, we turned off and skirted past St Petersburg's most expensive hotel, the Grand Hotel Europe, and walked up to Arts Square. This was an apt name since the square was surrounded by buildings reflecting the city's impressive cultural heritage. Here, Carlo Rossi's Mikhaylkovskiy Palace housed the Russian Museum, flanked by the Philharmonia concert hall and theatres.
    Cutting across to Kanal Griboedova, and picking our way through the mess and din of one of many of St Petersburg' road works, all lacking public safety measures, we arrived at the Church on Spilled Blood. This place of worship was built upon the spot where on 1st March, 1881, Tsar Alexander II was assassinated. The exterior of this fine domed building was a riot of colour created by the clever juxtaposition of materials. Sadly, with large queues, we opted not to venture inside the church.

Rostral Columns

Rex, Me, Dan and Alan in Front of the Winter Palace

    A short walk took us to the Palace Square flanked on one side by the spectacular Winter Palace with its Russian Baroque facade, and on the other side the General Staff Building. The opposite end of the Winter Palace faced the Neva river embankment, which gave us commanding views across to the Peter and Paul Fortress, and the Rostral Columns. The latter were russet-coloured and designed as lighthouses, and following a Roman custom, were decorated with protruding ships' prows.

Kunstkammer

Peter and Paul Fortress

The Bronze Horseman

    We ambled along the front of the Admiralty, past the Bronze Horseman, a magnificent statue of Peter the Great. His horse trampling the serpent of treason captured the spirit of the city's uncompromising and willful founder. In this part of the world, for some reason, newlyweds often pose under landmarks in order to bring luck upon themselves, and this was one such landmark. On our way to St Isaac's Cathedral, we passed Decembrist's Square. Here on 14th December, 1852, during the inauguration of Nicholas I, Guards officers intent on imposing a constitutional monarchy attempted to stage a coup d'�tat in the square. Loyalist troops soon routed the rebel forces and brought Russia's first revolution to an end. St Isaac's Cathedral is one of the worlds largest. It was built during the 19th century on thousands of wooden piles sunk into the marshy ground. The cathedral opened in 1858, but was designated a museum of Atheism during the Soviet era. Officially still a museum today, its richly coloured interior was home to hundreds of impressive 19th century works of art. I was particularly impressed with the stained glass window (1843) and the collection of intricate and beautiful mosaics. The treasures were all kept safe by three south, great oak and bronze doors, each weighing 20 tons.

St Isaac's Cathedral

Another Ceiling Painting

Ceiling Painting in St Isaac's

Intricate Mosaic

Stained Glass Window

    No trip to St Isaac's Cathedral would be complete without a hike up to the colonnade of the building for stunning views around the city, and it was some hike; Alan did well to climb up there.

Mariinskiy Theatre

Rimsky Korsakov

    After returning to terra firma, we headed down to St Isaac's Square, passing the somber, solid looking former German Embassy, and strolled along the banks of the Moyka waterway. On our way we passed the Yusopov Palace, site of the murder of Rasputin. He had been poisoned and shot here. Having been left for dead, he escaped. Later he was found, and shot again before being thrown into the river at the bridge adjacent to our marina. His body was later recovered, and water in his lungs indicated that he had eventually died by drowning.
    Moving on south, we passed the Mariinskiy Theatre, named in honour of Tsarina Maria Alexandrovna, wife of Alexander II. This building with its Neo-Renaissance facade, was erected in 1860 by architect Albert Kavos, who also designed the Bolshoy Theatre in Moscow. It was now home to the world-famous Mariiskiy (Kirov) Opera and Ballet Company.
    Close by the theatre stood the Rimsky-Korsakov Conservatory, Russia's oldest music school. Graduates from the school include Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev and Shostakovich. Just outside the school stood statues of the school's influential teacher, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, and Mikhail Glinka.
    By now we were cultured and whacked out, so we took comfort in a bar and then found a Georgian restaurant. Typically the menu was in Russian, so we asked the waitress to decipher what the various dishes were. For some strange reason she tried to tell us that we wouldn't like some of the dishes; perhaps she thought the British could only tolerate fish and chips, or maybe she understood which were the chef's "weak dishes". This made me more determined to try them. The food was absolutely delicious, delicately flavoured with herbs and spices, and certainly different to the Russian food we had experienced so far. I would recommend Georgian food to anyone visiting Russia.
    On leaving the restaurant, the heavens opened, a disaster for the washing that I strung amongst the rigging to dry. Rex and Alan returned back to the boat while Dan and I enjoyed a couple of beers in a bar that seemed to be a Chelsea supporters club, not that we care about Chelsea. We entered like a couple of drowned rats and left as a couple of semi-drowned rats.

24th May

Sts Peter and Paul Cathedral

Grand Ducal Burial Vault

    While we still had the sun on our side in the morning, we all headed off to the Peter and Paul Fortress, founded in 1703 on the orders of Peter the Great, considered by some to mark the founding of the city. The fortress had a grim history; hundreds of forced labourers died whilst building the fortress, and its bastions were later used to guard and torture many political prisoners.
    Entering through St Peter's Gate with its Romanov double eagle and an emblem of St George and the dragon, we walked along the main, neat and tidy thoroughfare. Soon we were passing the Grand Ducal burial vault, the final resting place of several Grand Dukes shot by the Bolsheviks in 1919, and of Grand Duke Vladimir who died in exile in 1992.
    A short distance beyond the vault stood the Cathedral of Sts Peter and Paul, a magnificent building whose gilded needle spire soared 122m to the heavens. Peter the Great turned his back on conventional Russian church architecture when he ordered the design of this place of worship.
    Inside we jostled with fleets of cruise ship visitors and their guides, to take in the magnificent interior with its marbled pink and green Corinthian columns, glittering chandeliers and painted decor. After Peter the Great died in 1725, the cathedral became the natural last resting place for the tsars, whose beautifully carved tombs stood in a quiet section of the building. All were of white Carrara marble, except for Alexander II's, and his wife Maria Alexandrovna's, tombs, which were carved from Altai jasper and Ural rhodonite. The only tsars not interred here were Peter II, Ivan VI and, until recently, Nicholas II.

Tombs of Alexander II and his wife Maria Alexandrovna

Tomb of Peter the Great

    Sadly, the Archives of the War Ministry and Engineer's House buildings were closed for some unknown reason, but we did gain access to the Trubetskoy Bastion. Here, from 1872 - 1921, the dark, damp, solitary confinement cells had served as a grim prison for enemies of the state. Each cell contained an iron bed and a small surface for books etc. Luxuries such as decent food and books (prisoners were allowed books that had been censored) had to be paid for by relatives. This was a poignant place for Alan. His grandfather had been imprisoned here, and as far as he knew, his crime was being an Englishman in the wrong place at the wrong time. Political prisoners included Leon Trotsky, Dostoevsky and the anarchist Prince Pyotr Kropotkin.

Interior of Cathedral

Another Interior View

    We meandered along to the Neva Gate, the riverside entrance, also known as "Death Gateway" and onto the Commandant's pier, from which prisoners embarked on their journey to execution or exile.
    We rounded off our visit by taking in an exhibition of the Soviet space effort; some of the buildings in the fortress had been used as laboratories during the space program.
    On leaving the fortress, we made a beeline for the nearby Kshesinskaya Mansion, named after the prima ballerina Matilda Kshesinskaya, for whom this Style-Moderne building was commissioned. In 1917 the mansion was commandeered by the Bolsheviks and became their headquarters. Today the mansion houses the Museum of Russian Political History, and the Bolshevik Party secretariat and Lenin's office have been faithfully restored. The museum contained a fascinating collection of memorabilia from the revolutionary era and informative accounts of the Stalin era. Those were dire times indeed; there were no grey areas, people were either with or against the "iron fist", and opponents suffered badly, often with their lives. One room was purely devoted to the ongoing debate in Russia of the pros and cons of the death penalty. With terrorist attacks in recent years, there was an appreciable majority in favour.
    To round off the evening, we visited a restaurant recommended by Vladimir. A balalaika player supplied the music all evening. Alan and I wondered how many strings the instrument had since we could only see three tuning keys. On inspection during the interval we found there were indeed only three: two at identical pitch A, the other tuned to E. The player came over to chat with us, and he demonstrated his capabilities by playing some Bach. Alan was impressed, I was none the wiser. Alan mentioned that we had seen Rimsky-Korsakov's statue today, upon which the player gave an impromptu rendition of the "Flight of the Bumble Bee" - now I was impressed too. The young fellow was studying music, and like most music students around the Baltic, had to play in order to raise tuition funds.

25th May

Rex and Dan Examining a Russian Interior

    Alan's legs were playing him up from the previous two days of hectic schedule, so he decided to have a rest and relax day on the boat. Meanwhile Rex, Dan and I visited the Hermitage.
    This was a good option since rain seemed to be the order of the day. We queued in the downpour for what seemed like an eternity, mildly amused by the antics of a pair of guys who had produced a large bag of umbrellas which were selling like hot cakes to the long, damp line of hopefuls. Eventually we passed through the hallowed doors of this world famous museum.

A Hermitage Ceiling

    The museum comprised a group of buildings. The most impressive was the Baroque style and opulent Winter Palace of Peter the Great, nestled between the Palace Square and the River Neva. It was the official residence of the Imperial family, though they rarely lived here after the assassination of Alexander II in 1881. During the Revolution in 1917, the Provisional Government took the palace as its headquarters, which led to its storming by the Bolsheviks. Catherine the Great added the more intimate Small Hermitage as a retreat from the bustle of the court. Her growing art collection brought about the building of the Large Hermitage to house it all. On it grew, with a Theatre and the New Hermitage being appended later.
    The bulk of the collection had been acquired by Catherine the Great between 1764-74. After the Revolution and the nationalisation of both royal and private property, more works were gathered for the museum.
    The Hermitage collection was truly vast, and it would take at least a week to do it justice. The collection could be broadly partitioned as: prehistoric, classical, Russian, Italian and Spanish, Flemish, Dutch and German, French and English, and 19th and 20th century European art. The latter came from private collections after the Revolution.

Another Russian Interior

A Decorated Corridor

    We climbed a magnificent, vast, sweeping staircase, and explored together a temporary exhibition loaned from the Prada. I recognised a lot of the works from an earlier visit I had to the Prada with Dan a while ago. A series of rooms followed illustrating Russian interiors, before we reached a section displaying a small contribution of British art. Apart from a painting each by Gainsborough and Reynolds, and two by Joseph Wright of Derby, I had never heard of the other British artists. I guess these others were featured because artists such as George Drew painted portraits of Russian aristocrats.
    Our next port of call was the French paintings, before we split up, Dan going off to view the ancient Egyptian artifacts, while Rex and I examined the Dutch, Flemish and German art. Rex needed a break in the fresh and now sunny air, so I carried on to take in the Italian art. By now I was beginning to appreciate how massive the museum was, and how exquisitely decorated it was throughout. All the floors were wooden with beautiful inlaid marquetry. By closing time I was well and truly saturated with art. As I said earlier, to do it justice would take weeks.