Day 6

St Petersburg - Nevsky Prospekt

17.02.2011

If you every visit St Petersburg, come in the summer and arrive in the warmth of the afternoon. That's not the way we do things. We arrive at Vitebsk Station at 6.00 am, in the dark, and it's -20 degrees. We navigate down several flights of stairs and make our way outside. There are two 'taxi drivers' touting for trade. One has a clapped-out Lada that was new when Putin was a boy (he's a local St Petersburg lad, but you knew that). The other guy owns something that was once a Mercedes. I opt for the latter. It has a bigger boot, and will be able to accommodate our two suitcases. He puts Monica's case in the front with him. I discover why. He has two tyres in the boot and has to manoeuvre them to fit my case in. I show him the hotel details, complete with Google Map. He has no idea where the hotel is and consults his rival, who is understandably unhelpful. He consults some other people and eventually we set off. No meter. This isn't going to end well.

The Tradition Hotel is wonderful. It's warm, ultra clean with friendly efficient staff. We breakfast there. The hotel is opposite the Winter Palace. The river Neva is completely frozen, and everywhere is covered in snow. It has warmed up a bit, it is now only -18, so we decide to explore the city on foot. We have to cross two bridges to get into town (onto and off Vasilyevsky Island) and we make for Nevsky Prospekt. Whenever we stop to take photographs, if we remove our gloves our hands freeze. We enter a number of churches, the most impressive being the Cathedral of the Resurrection. The exterior is modelled on St Basil's in Moscow. The interior has been beautifully restored and is covered completely with mosaic icons. It's staggeringly beautiful.

In the afternoon, we go into the department store Gostiny Dvor, and after much deliberation and soul searching, Monica buys a Russian hat. It's too cheap, she says, to be real fur. She now looks properly Russian, almost regal – judge for yourself in the photo below. I look like her humble man servant.

In the evening we dine in the Literaturnoye Kafe, which according to the blurb, was Pushkin's favourite (see photo of statue below). To emphasise the point there is a seedy wax model of the great man eating in a downstairs window. This is designed to attract tourists, but there are no tourists in February. The restaurant is upstairs. It has plush red 19th Century décor. And there is live music which is part of the attraction. A pianist plays classical pieces which we enjoy. Later a young soprano sings mournful Russian love songs. It's not cheap. I point out to Monica that we're paying for the music and Pushkin. I didn't pay to get feckin' depressed, she says.