Уважаемиые пассажиры...

I have learned that staying up until past midnight when one has to awaken at 0430 in the morning to catch a train is... well... no fun.  Happily, the taxi we ordered the day before for a 0530 pickup was on-time (actually a bit early and dispatch called us to tell us it would be arriving shortly and to notify us of the car number).  Would that Blue Line could ever be so efficient.

Moscow traffic (we'll never complain about Ottawa again) was light at the hour... except around the train station.  There it was pure Serengetti watering hole in the dry season.  It took almost as long for the cab to wend its way through to our train station (there were three in the cluster) as it did to cross half of Moscow.  Plus the crowds huddled about the entrance to the Metro awaiting its 6am opening didn't help flows any.  Oh yeah, I should mention we took a cab because the metro wasn't open yet.  Mr. Unmentionable was worried about the cab not showing up because the metro was not a viable option at that hour.  (Rightfully so, curses be upon him.)

A quick scan through metal detectors (us) and x-ray machines (bags) found us on the Сапсан platform staring blearily at one another.  Quiet as a whisper, our bullet train to St. Petersburg pulled up to platform 7 right on time for the 45 minute pre-board.  Aside from my last minute document search that held up the boarding process (In my defence, taking out my camera to document the trip had jostled my passport to the bottom of my bag making it awkward to extricate.  Neither Mr. U nor the boarding agent were amused.), things went smoothly and, at precisely 0645 hours, the train pulled out of the station.  We were soon clipping along at a comfortable 200km/h.

To the sound of double chimes and an enthusiastic "Уважаемые пассажиры" (Dear passengers...) we were regaled with 13 successive bilingual announcements (Russian and English), each one beginning with the same chimes and warm greeting.  We were informed about such things as smoking rules, the law enforcement presence on the train, the location of the bar car, the toilets, stops along the way, taxi reservation at destination from within the train, purchasing train tickets, loyalty cards for train ticket purchases, welcome aboard, souvenirs are available in carriage #6...you get the picture.  I am pretty good at saying 'dear passengers' now. 

I shall endeavour to poetically describe the scenery.  Trees.  Water-filled ditches.  Little houses.  Trees.  A river.  Trees.  A few more little houses.  Trees.  Trees.  There might have been some trees.  As you can see, I've used a bit of artistic licence.  The sun didn't come up for the first little while so what we could really see were our faces reflected in the window.  We're skipping that part because... well... you remember the bleary part earlier.  Actually, the landscape is very familiar -Canada in the fall is akin to Russia in the fall.  The leaves on the trees were changing colour, the grasses were golden and ready for winter and the skies grey and cloudy (or maybe that was just the dust in my eyeballs -have I mentioned that it was really, really early and I had only 4 hours sleep?). 

We could have been on a train going to Sudbury until we pulled into the St. Petersburg station.  At that point there was no mistaking where we were.  To the rousing sounds of a Russian march we disembarked and were funneled towards the exit and the city center by the rushing crowds.  Four hours on the high-speed train and we emerged into a bustling city center which can only be described as Russia meets Western Europe.  The best of both worlds come together here in a celebration of culture, heritage and history.  Following the directions from the hotel email, we immediately turned left out of the train station and walked for about 2 km before crossing a canal and realising that we weren't in such a nice part of town anymore.  It is incredible how quickly one gets that feeling of being not-quite-in-the-right-spot.  You know, when the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and the wind blows just a bit colder and people are not dressed quite as smartly as they were 3 blocks ago...and there are fewer people out and about.  We turned back and once we reached the train station once again, we cabbed it.

It turns out we went too far to the left.  Had we followed the street that was slightly to the left of the train station we would have had an entirely different experience.  Here was the grand boulevard we originally expected to see with its upscale shops and monumental architecture.  The beautiful people were walking along the sunny side of the street and everything was right and proper in the world once again.  Our cabbie had some difficulty locating our hotel as it is fairly new and didn't have a huge shingle hanging from the building to identify it.  This gave us an impromptu tour of the surrounding area though so we did not mind in the least bit.

Once we found the place, we checked in (the room was ready, thankfully) and figured out what we were going to do for the day.  A walking tour around the area and a few photos later, my camera battery died and silly girl that I am, hadn't anticipated this would happen on day one so I did not have a back up or my battery charger with me (it has a North American plug anyways so it wouldn't work in the wall even though I later found out they had adapters in the hotel *sigh*).  That was pretty much it for 'real' photos.  My iPhone has a camera and I was able to capture a few images with it as a back up but nothing beats a real camera as you will see.

Hermitage seen from across the square

Hermitage facade

Hermitage entry gates

 

Church of the Spilt Blood

 

 

We hadn't eaten yet and were ravenous so we walked to the main street and found a nice, little Italian/Sushi place (DON'T ask) to sate our hunger and quench our thirst.  By this point it was too late to visit the Hermitage so we elected to retreat to the comfort and safety of our room and we both passed out for a late afternoon nap.  I guess 4 hours of sleep and a 5km walk with luggage is reason enough to have a kip.  Late night room service served as dinner and we fell asleep in our king-size bed that was more like a cloud made of crisp, white linens and goose-down duvet.  It was sheer heaven.  There is a reason I love the W Hotel chain.

Sunday morning saw the sun come out despite the forecast predicting otherwise.  We woke, broke our fast at a cute bakery cafe around the corner -Mr. U had a strudel and cafe  americano and I had a cinnamon bun and tiny demi-tasse of drinking chocolate (They didn't serve decaf so someone *cough*Mr.U*cough* thought this would be a better option, forgetting that sugar is equally as stimulating as caffeine - I just went with it.) before setting out to explore the Hermitage.

Exterior of the Hermitage

Stairwell inside the Hermitage

You might remember my gushing about the Pushkin here in Moscow...well I can't even begin to describe what happened to me in an entire HALL of Peter Paul Reubens tableaux.  My head was spinning and the experience was simply surreal.  Moving from hall to hall, standing in the presence of so many monumental master works is an indescribable privilege. That is just the beginning of it all.  I won't bore you with details but suffice it to say that the collection they have on display is phenomenal and reads like an art history who's who.  The collection on display is like none other in the world and I cannot even dare to imagine what must be housed in storage.  We were able to view the better part of one floor and will have to return another few times in order to visit all of the public galleries.  Mondays there is no admission to the Hermitage so we were out of luck for future visits this time around.

Carriage for hire outside the Hermitage

A lunch of Korean fare followed our museum experience where we dined on kimchee dumplings and other traditional dishes.  Not long after we sat down, two French couples came in to the restaurant and sat close to us.  It seemed that they were a few hours behind us in their tourism schedule, having arrived on an overnight train from Moscow and just stopping for lunch after their trip to the Hermitage.  I only know this because my ears perked up at the sound of French and they were speaking fairly loudly, especially as one couple had called their kids back home (wherever that was) to tell them they were fine and to do their homework (I had to laugh).  We left the restaurant and walked around town some more, visiting The Church of the Spilt Blood (not quite as gruesome as it sounds, though -it was founded on the site where Alexander II was mortally wounded) and walking the streets once again, getting a feel for the greatness of the city.

Church of Spilt Blood (Not bad for an iPhone shot!)

A few early evening drinks at the hotel bar and then a foray out for Indian food for dinner brought us to a small place on the corner.  It was surprisingly busy for 9PM on a Sunday night.  There were 3 other tables occupied when we entered and halfway through our meal, in walked 2 couples together.  I had to laugh as they were the same 4 from lunch at the Korean place.  What are the odds?  They were just as surprised as we were because I heard one of the men whisper to his friends, "I think they were at the Korean place during lunch."  Upon leaving, I stopped by their table to wish them a "Bon appétit et bonne soirée...On se voit demain, alors?".  There was surprised laughter and a rousing chorus of 'goodnights'.  Honestly, what are the odds?!!!!

For your viewing pleasure, here is some of the local wildlife as shot 'from the hip'.

Monday AM saw another walk around the neighbourhood, this time along the river.

We checked out of the hotel at noon and took a cab to the train station to start our journey back home.  Four and a half hours on the train followed by a crazy metro ride home (rush hour is a nightmare at best, let alone traveling with a suitcase, carry-on bag and never-used umbrella) we arrived back at our flat travel-weary and happy.  I would say money more than well-spent.

We have found a sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

Lorem revertentur

(*today's post was brought to you by the collaborative efforts of Our Girl in Moscow and Mr. Unmentionable)