Tour in Russia

Pushkin and Saint Petersburg

Arrived at 00:15 at Terminal 2 of Pulkovo Airport, about twenty km south of St. Petersburg. A young student from Catania who lives part of the year in Russia helped me fill out the entry form that I presented to the customs officials. I only had my backpack with me, so there was no need to wait for luggage on the conveyor belt. Even though I had tried a couple of days earlier to book a taxi to St. Petersburg, there is no one waiting for me holding a sign with my name. The Sicilian girl is extremely kind, she helps me exchange some money and books me a taxi at the designated counter at the airport. I reciprocate by inviting her to ride with me and paying almost the entire cost of the transfer. Despite serving the second-largest Russian metropolis, Pulkovo Airport is small and unimpressive. With the booked taxi we reach the city center.

I get out in front of the building that houses the hostel I booked with Hostelworld. Even though it is almost 2 in the morning, the reception is open and a very young girl welcomes me, showing me the 10-bed dorm, the bathrooms, the showers and the small room with a computer available. I immediately take the opportunity to connect to the internet and let people at home know of my arrival in Russia. Before going to bed I have her book me the train to Moscow using the girl's credit card. The next morning I wake up around 09:00 and go out. The Cuba Hostel is located behind Kazan Cathedral, a stone's throw from the famous Nevsky Prospekt and the Singer Palace. After exchanging a few more rubles at the bank, I take the metro (efficient and cheap) and reach the station from which the minibuses to Pushkin depart.

The minibus drops me off in front of the park facing the Palace of Catherine the Great. It is not particularly cold, also because I am well dressed, but the soft snow covers the Palace gardens, making it even more beautiful. Inside the Palace I join two couples from Rome and their guide who in about an hour explains various aspects of court life at the time of the tsars. During World War II the Palace was occupied and looted by the Germans who took away, among other things, the renowned Amber Room. Since the precious panels of this room were never found, a few years ago it was decided to build a new and equally precious one. The objects displayed in the Palace were saved because they were transported by train to Siberia before the Germans arrived. The Palace, however, was devastated by the Germans and bombed by the Russians who then faithfully rebuilt it immediately after the war.

After the visit I took a city bus to the nearest metro station and from there by metro to St. Petersburg. After lunch at a Burger King, I strolled on the island entirely occupied by the Peter and Paul Fortress, which was the first settlement in the area now occupied by the city. The Church that for some years has housed the remains of the family of the last tsar, exhumed from the mass grave in Yekaterinburg, is under renovation. Nearby an horrible bronze statue of a tsar is absolutely disproportionate, with a small face compared to the massive body. The small island is connected to the rest of the city by a bridge and is surrounded by waters that are frozen for much of the year, including today. From here you enjoy a beautiful view of the other bank and the aristocratic palaces that face it.

Having left the fortress-island, we take a long walk to see the Cruiser Aurora, protagonist of the 1917 Revolution and now anchored here. Taking the Metro I get off at the station on the famous Nevsky Prospekt and walk to a large Cathedral with a tall dome. I retrace the road back to Kazan Cathedral which, with its side colonnades, recalls the Vatican. Entry is free so I go in to take a look. From here I reach the nearby Hostel where I spend about an hour at the computer. Late in the evening I go out again onto Nevsky Prospekt and head to a McDonald's for a takeaway sandwich. Back at the Hostel, I eat the quick meal, drink a beer and go to bed in the dorm.

The Hermitage

Tonight I woke up because in a bed near mine they were noisily copulating. These are the drawbacks of hostels. I manage to fall back asleep anyway and the next morning with a short walk along Nevsky Prospekt I reach the entrance of the Hermitage, crossing the scenographic square it faces, dominated by a tall obelisk surmounted by the statue of the tsar who got the better of Napoleon. I visit most of the famous Museum with the help of an audio guide. I linger on the main works, observe Donatello's loggia, a copy of the original in the Vatican, look curiously at the precious clockwork mechanism represented by a peacock and a golden owl, walk in wonder through the rooms that once housed the Russian imperial family.

I stay inside from opening to closing, neglecting only the third floor, making a fleeting visit to the Egyptian section and allowing myself a short lunch break in the expensive café. Daylight saving time is also in force in Russia and given the latitude the days in St. Petersburg are long, so when I go out around 18:00 it is still daylight. I cross the bridge over the frozen Neva and go to the opposite island to enjoy an interesting panorama of the city. I then return to the Square where the Hermitage is located and from here, skirting the small canals that have unjustly earned the city the nickname Venice of the Baltic, I reach the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood. This polychrome Church that recalls St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow is called that because it was built on the spot where a Tsar was assassinated.

Evening falls, it is drizzling but not cold, snow is present only on the lawns while the streets are clean. I enter the Singer Palace to look for a toilet that I do not find, then I have dinner in a sterile US-style sandwich shop on a street that flanks Kazan Cathedral. I return to the Hostel to spend a few hours waiting for the time when I will have to reach the train station. The young guests of the hostel are organizing a costume party, there is music at full volume. I pick up my backpack and walk to the Metro on Nevsky Prospekt, from here by metro I reach the Moscovskaya train station. I present the electronic ticket to the hostess of my carriage and get on.

I have a berth in a second-class compartment with four beds, everything is clean and tidy, the window is framed by an orange curtain, on the shelf there is a vase with fresh flowers, I have a large space available to put my backpack. Everything seems functional but after all Russian trains routinely travel thousands of km. The train departs on time and its gentle swaying lulls me to sleep.

Moscow

I arrive at Moscow's Leningradskaya station around 09:00 after a pleasant sleep on the train. Without realizing it I crossed the Oblasts of Leningrad, Novgorod Veliky, Tver and Muscovy. Yaroslavskaya station is a stone's throw from the one where I arrived, so I take the opportunity to buy the ticket for the train that tomorrow will take me to Yaroslavl. It is not easy to make oneself understood and in Moscow the people who know a few words of English are far fewer than in St. Petersburg. Even the metro station names, which in St. Petersburg were indicated both in local characters and in Latin ones, here are only in Cyrillic. Fortunately I have learned to recognize some letters of the Russian alphabet and this helps me a great deal. From the nearby Metro station I quickly arrive near the Hostel that I booked from St. Petersburg through the kind receptionist of the place where I slept.

The Hostel is called Napoleon, it is clean, tidy but crowded and there is only one w.c. for the many guests. It is located on the fourth floor of a building and there is no elevator, but it is very cheap especially considering it is a 10-minute walk from Red Square. Having dropped off my luggage I immediately go to see the famous Moscow square that faces St. Basil's Cathedral and the Kremlin. I eat a sandwich at the nearby McDonald's, watch the changing of the guard at the Monument to the Unknown Soldier, then enter inside the Kremlin Walls where I visit the four most important Churches in Russia. In one are buried the Orthodox patriarchs, in another the Tsars who ruled here before the temporary transfer of the Capital to St. Petersburg, in all there are ancient and venerated iconostases.

Besides the Churches, whose main feature are the bulbous bell towers, the Kremlin houses the Presidential Palace, the one where the Congress of the Communist Party once met, the Armory and the Admiralty. During the visit I watch the march of a platoon of soldiers. Characteristic are the Tsarina of the Bells and the Tsar of the Cannons. The first is the largest bell in the World but it never rang a single chime because while it was cooling after being cast it developed a crack, the second is an enormous cannon that has never fired a shot. Having left the Kremlin we see again the changing of the guard at the Monument to the Unknown Soldier where an eternal flame burns, then we stroll on the great Red Square surrounded not only by the Kremlin and St. Basil's Cathedral but also by the immense GUM Department Store and the Palace that houses the Museum of Russian History.

The GUM Department Store was famous for being almost empty during the communist era, today instead it is a display of luxury shops and international brands. I look closely at the polychrome St. Basil's Cathedral with its characteristic architecture: bulbous domes, twisted columns, a true kaleidoscope. On the opposite side of Red Square the small Kazan Church has recently been rebuilt, which Stalin had preferred to demolish because it obstructed military parades. From here I take a long walk passing in front of the Bolshoi Theatre and Lubyanka Square where the Palace stands that until the dissolution of the Soviet Union housed the dreaded KGB. Back at the hostel I use the computer available to guests for a while. In the evening first I have dinner at a nearby McDonald's then I stroll to Red Square.

With darkness, the Square gives its best, the monuments, the Church, the Kremlin Walls, the Towers, everything is skillfully illuminated. The long GUM Department Store building is outlined by thousands of lights. I return to the Hostel because tomorrow morning I leave for Yaroslavl.

Yaroslavl and Rostov Veliky

I get up fairly early to reach the Yaroslavskaya station by metro and from there with the ticket purchased the previous morning I take the train to Yaroslavl. The train is not as nice as the one that brought me to Moscow but it is still clean and tidy. Here too there is an attendant who takes care of the carriage, near his quarters there is the large boiler for tea which I take to have breakfast. In the compartment there are only three of us and this allows me to stretch out on the seats to sleep. Outside the window scroll the images of the numerous birches interrupted only by the sparse villages of little wooden houses. At the Yaroslavl station I make the acquaintance of a couple of engaged Muscovites who know a few words of English, they are here for a one-day outing and they invite me to follow them to reach the center.

Having taken the bus we arrive in front of the local Kremlin where I say goodbye to them and then I go to a nearby restaurant for lunch. After a few days of McDonald's and sandwiches I finally allow myself a normal meal. After lunch I visit the city's Kremlin with its bulbous Churches and the monks' cells leaning against the fortifications. I exit through the opposite gate from the one I entered and go onto the frozen river to observe up close the fishermen who, making a hole in the ice, try to catch some fish. I walk paying attention to where I put my feet because part of the ice pack is melting in the sun. Back on dry land I stroll to the small bridge that I cross to go to the islet that houses the amusement park.

I return to the riverfront reaching the neoclassical kiosk that offers a beautiful view of the point where the city's two rivers meet, the still frozen Kotorosl and the Volga which already flows freely. The contrast between the two waterways is sharp, white and blue mixing in front of a pier. Walking along the Volga embankment is pleasant not only for the beauty of the surroundings enriched by the bulbous domes of the Cathedral but also because one is aware that the river flowing beneath us is one of the most important in the World and constitutes the backbone of European Russia. On a large irregular square face another Church and the Town Hall which still bears the faded marks of the Soviet period.

The monuments scattered in the parks along the embankments, the bulbous domes standing out against the whiteness of the frozen Kotorosl, the slow flow of the Volga, make Yaroslavl a beautiful city, an unexpected surprise. I return near the Kremlin to take the bus to the old train station and from here a minibus to the bus station. Then I take the first vehicle to Rostov Veliky where I arrive in about an hour. From the bus station I get on a minibus to the historic center. I get off in front of the beautiful Kremlin, all towers and bulbous domes, a real spectacle made even more interesting by the sun's reflections on the mighty walls. We are out of season and it feels like being in an abandoned city, I am probably the only tourist.

I reach the shores of the lake almost by chance, enjoying a spectacular scenario, the water is completely frozen, behind me is the beautiful Kremlin and in the distance one glimpses a fairytale Monastery. I find accommodation in a room-for-rent on the lakeside where I am assigned a characteristic wooden little house that the owner tells me was built in 1600. The bedroom is very small and dusty, I can barely fit into the bathroom and the door of the little house does not close. Fortunately I am without luggage because I left my backpack at the Hostel in Moscow where I have already booked the bed for tomorrow evening too. Before it gets completely dark I go to dinner in a small restaurant where I eat a cheese pizza then I return to my accommodation for the night. It feels like being out of the World, far from everyone and everything, the place is enchanting and it is only for me.

Rostov Veliky and Sergiev Posad

I get up at the first light of dawn because I absolutely want to reach the fairytale Monastery that I saw yesterday evening from afar on the shores of the Lake. I stroll around the embankment, it is a shame that right after the Kremlin area there is an ugly industrial area where smoking chimneys take the place of the bulbous domes. The Russians in their master plans made no distinctions between areas of tourist interest and production areas, and so in a village while I walk along the edges of the frozen little lake full of romance I am hit by an unpleasant smell coming from the nearby industry. But that is not all, to continue the walk I am forced to wade through an illegal dump too, a stone's throw from the Lake. Beyond the dump, however, the landscape becomes idyllic again, with old wooden little houses with windows framed by fine decoration that almost looks like embroidery.

I leave the prints of my boots on the path that continues along the lakeside up to the Monastery. I have come all the way here to see up close what from afar seemed most fairytale-like to me, I am more interested in following a couple of fishermen who set off on foot toward the center of the frozen lake. With an expert step they open a gap between me and them, after all I have to be careful not to slip and above all not to put my feet where the ice is thinning. A cyclist also passes me with ease, who probably comes through here as a shortcut to the other shore and I do not understand how he can keep his balance on the ice. I would like to reach where some fishermen are stationed but the more I walk the farther away they seem to be, so I give up and turn back.

In front of me, beyond the frozen expanse of the lake, rise the bulbous domes of the Monastery and turning my gaze into the distance I observe the Kremlin of Rostov Veliky and it is now it, from this position, that seems to have come out of a fairytale. The air is crisp but I am happy with what I see, it is the highlight of the trip, the one that will remain in your heart forever. Back on shore a road of mud mixed with snow leads me to the Monastery, which I visit. I then return along the same path I took on the way there, to the little house in Rostov Veliky, hand the keys to the owner and take a minibus in front of the Kremlin. At the Bus station they tell me I will have to wait about an hour for the bus to Sergiev Posad, I take the opportunity to buy a filled pancake from a lady who prepared them at home and brought them here to sell.

It is neither a kiosk nor a shop but simply a lady standing in front of a little folding chair on which she has placed a pot wrapped in rags to keep it warm. It reminds me of the Romanian peasant women who go to market with a single live hen in hand hoping to sell it. The bus arrives and in about an hour I arrive in Sergiev Posad, the Holy city of the Russian Orthodox, long the seat of the Patriarch exiled here by Stalin and brought back to Moscow by Gorbachev. The city is disappointing also because after the wonders seen in Rostov Veliky and Yaroslavl I was expecting something similar. The Bus Station is near the Train station and the McDonald's where I eat a hamburger. A walk along uneven streets takes me to the Kremlin. Unfortunately the various Churches are swathed in heavy restoration which contributes to making this visit deeply disappointing for me.

I do not fail to enter the dark Church where the remains of Saint Sergius rest, the patron saint of all the Russias. I return to the Station square and take the train to Moscow, a slow train that stops at every station before arriving at Moscow Yaroslavskaya. I arrive at rush hour which coincides with the workers going home, endless rivers of people pouring out of the Metro to take the train at the two stations located in this area of the Capital; Yaroslavskaya and Leningradskaya. There are so many people that it is difficult to move without being swept away. I nonetheless reach the Metro and head to the Arbat district. I stroll along Arbat Street, completely pedestrian, the most famous promenade in Moscow. It should be something halfway between Carnaby Street in London and Charles Bridge in Prague, but for me this attraction too turns out to be disappointing.

There are tourists as well as the numerous souvenir shops (but by now matryoshka dolls and military hats with the red star can also be found in Italy at the illegal stalls of the Poles), there are also the foam-rubber mascots ready to have their photo taken and a few street musicians but nothing particularly interesting. I return to the Metro and go to the Napoleon Hostel, booked two evenings earlier, where I find my backpack where I left it. I eat something at the nearby McDonald's, browse the computer for an hour, drink a beer and go to bed in the dorm. Tomorrow morning I set off again early and I have not booked anything.

Vladimir and Suzdal

I wake up early, leave the Napoleon Hostel and head to the nearby Metro Station from where I reach the Vladimirskaya Train Station. Unfortunately there are no trains available so I ask about buses which normally depart near the railway stations covering the same routes as the railways. These buses have no timetable and leave when they are full, so after sitting down I have to wait about an hour before starting the journey. After about 3 hours here I am in Vladimir, the Train Station and the Bus Station are opposite each other in a dusty square. The historic center is located on a height that I reach using a rather dilapidated iron and wood staircase. Some steps are rotting, others cut in half. Somehow I get to the top, near one of the two main Churches. This is the smaller one but it has finely carved walls, the second, not far away, is a true Cathedral, preceded by a wide square.

I just look at both from the outside, then I have lunch at the nearby McDonald's. From here I return to the bus station, to avoid the crumbling stairs I take a longer road. I then take the first bus to Suzdal where I arrive in about an hour. Vladimir did not particularly impress me and the few architectures that recall its glorious past when it was the capital of Russia (there is also a monumental entrance Arch to the city) are too close to anonymous industrial areas. From the plateau where the city is located the view extends over the surrounding countryside where, however, the structures of a nuclear power plant make an ugly show. But now I am in Suzdal, a historic town of Russia and one of the most important tourist destinations, Lonely Planet ranks it among the top attractions of the Country.

Honestly I am very doubtful about these analyses, the place is pleasant, there are many wooden buildings, numerous Monasteries, but certainly if this is one of the major attractions of Russia it means that in this immense Country there is not much to see. Flagged as a must-see place on the routes of the Golden Ring, personally I prefer Yaroslavl and Rostov Veliky to it. Anyway I am here and from the bus station I take another bus to the town center. Here is the Commercial Center, the flagship of Soviet tourism but today, perhaps because we are out of season, bare, dilapidated, dirty. The shop windows recall the worst periods of the communist era, in a toy shop there is only one doll, in the clothing one a wrinkled dress arranged on a dusty mannequin and so on. There are also a few stalls of vegetables and knick-knacks.

From the Commercial Center a downhill path leads to the bank of the frozen river that winds through the countryside. Along the river is the Gozzilla Hostel whose review I read in the Lonely Planet guide, I have not booked but I am welcomed without any problem. To get here you have to walk on a muddy path so it is obligatory in the hall to take off your shoes. The Hostel is very nice, clean, tidy, there is a room with a bar and fireplace. The room is spacious, the bunk beds made of sturdy wood, a nice bathroom and above all I will sleep in it alone. The kind lady at the reception advises me on a tourist map what to see. I stroll in the village trying to see as many Monasteries as possible, all with bulbous Churches. There is still snow at the edges of the streets and between one Church and another in the Monasteries.

The Monasteries are fortified and to enter you pay, I limit myself to entering three (among other things the third is free). In the first one I visit I have a good tea with a sweet. I leave for last the main Church famous for its blue bulbous bell towers with golden stars. A little further on there is also an open-air Museum with an ancient wooden Church that was moved here. The river and the streams are still frozen but are melting in the sun of a spring day. We are out of season and it shows, no tourist on my route and the numerous commercial activities closed. The walk was long but I did not notice the passing of time. Evening has come and I enter the only shop that seems open in the Commercial Center.

It should be a grocery store with a deli but there is nothing that attracts me, A customer invites me to follow her, taking me to a Restaurant I had passed by earlier but which seemed closed. I am the only customer but the food is more than pleasant. I return before dark to the Hostel (otherwise I would risk ending up in the river), I discover that there is another tourist in the place, a Canadian. I make myself a tea and then go to the room for the night.

Suzdal and Moscow

It's not the best place in the world I've seen but waking up in the morning, leaving the hostel and seeing the town still largely covered in white and the winding frozen river that snakes among wooden houses and onion-domed churches surrounded by fortified monasteries is still a fine experience. Not far from the shopping centre I had a good breakfast in a place based on tea and something very similar to an American pound cake. I then take the first bus that goes from the shopping centre to the bus station and from there a bus to Vladimir. A short stop at Vladimir station and I set off again on another bus to Moscow where I arrive in the early afternoon near a metro station. From here a transfer to see the Exhibition Centre, a vast area that more than any other area of Moscow has preserved Soviet architecture.

I stroll along a long avenue lined with mighty exhibition pavilions whose facades are a triumph of the most classic Soviet style. Statues of heroes and workers, bas-reliefs of sheaves of wheat, sickles and hammers, slogans extolling communism, monumental fountains, red stars but also a missile. A little further on the Monument to the Astronaut, a metal structure tracing the orbit of a space launch. After the long walk I go to the nearby McDonald's, very crowded so it's necessary to queue for a burger. I then return to the metro station to go to the Napoleon Hostel where I left my backpack two days ago. Here I make the acquaintance of a guy from the Marche who has an import-export business in Moscow. In the hostel kitchen he cooks some eggs and invites me to eat them.

We then go together to a typical Russian restaurant to drink a beer with two appetisers (nuts and cheeses), then we walk to Red Square to see it once more enhanced by skilful lighting. We return to the hostel for the night.

Moscow

Last day, the flight is in the afternoon and the travel programme is over. The man from the Marche region I met the evening before takes me to his office located in what in Soviet times was the agricultural and food market and which has now been turned into a shopping centre. Towards 1 p.m. I say goodbye to my friend and, leaving his office, since I am right by Red Square, I take one last look at Red Square, which by now has become familiar to me. I go back to the Metro and reach the Station near which the trains for one of Moscow's Airports, Domodedovo, depart. Having arrived at the Airport, I board the plane with which I leave Russia