Anekdot

The story of the crushing disappointment of a poorly-planned attempted excursion.

One hungover morning, we awoke to the news that two creepy Russian men sitting on our floor of the hostel -having made it through the gate, past reception and up three flights of stairs - were accosting sleepy passers-by, animatedly trying to find two of our friends that had gone out (to a Stolovaya) the night before. Being the sensible people that we are, we pointedly avoided their room, texting and calling around to warn them. 

About an hour later, we found out that after one of the Russian guests tried to point out their room (creepy enough), the Russian receptionist had gone downstairs to look up the right room number and given it to the two men. Why is it Russian workers are suddenly really helpful in the most inappropriate circumstances?

Anyway, our extremely hungover friends opened the door to be gifted with a pineapple, strawberries, champagne and a SIM card. Apparently when they were extremely drunk the night before, they'd stormed out of the Stolovaya having had enough of the locals' forwardness, to be followed by the security guards at said cafeteria, who presumably spent the rest of the night sourcing exotic presents and generally being creepy.

My roommate and I, after our 'ice-cream, wine and Bridesmaids' night, were feeling fairly under the weather, but we all perked up enough to set off to see Peterhof, residence of Peter the Great and the biggest tourist attraction in St Petersburg. There was a festival on Friday and Saturday night to mark both 200 years since Russia's victory over Napoleon and shutting off the fountains.

Not sure if like Fireworks' Night or they need to get over it...

We trudged off through the ornate Metro stations (apparently it's a criminal offence to take photos) and after some negotiating with the locals, found the right marshrutka (minibus) for 'Petergof'. It was quite refreshing to get out of the city and see some ugly buildings for once and reminiscent of the countryside in Kazan. 

That is, until we found ourselves on a dirt track through the forest, with the whispered news that our hungover friend at the front of the marshrutka was being sick out the window. We were quite disconcerted when the marshrutka slowly pulled over, worried we would all be unceremoniously left in the forest as punishment. Luckily, my roommate had just bravely gone out to find our chundering friend's glasses, which had fallen off her face as she had lunged out the window. Unluckily, there was a resounding 'nyet' as she returned, and we drove off, leaving the glasses somewhere in the forest.

Rather than being a result of her heavy night before, we found out she had been drinking cold water from the dispenser marked 'Only hot water' - leaving her queasy and a bit frail for the rest of the day. We soon found a place to eat - the familiar-sounding 'Pizza Express'. On entering, there were three drunk and mistrustful Russians to our right, and one on our left, slumped on a table and later dragged out by the police. The pizza we ordered was exactly what we needed, but we beat a hasty retreat when we realised that the toy gun our neighbour was fiddling with was real.

Finally, we made it into Peterhof! The grounds at the front were free entry and there were many brides taking advantage of this to take pictures. 

The fountains were absolutely beautiful and we were all excited to see the extensive collection inside the 'Lower Park', which were what we'd really come to see.

We slowly made our way through the grounds, leisurely taking pictures until we reached the ticket offices which were definitely closed. Then a sign was put up, informing us that the offices had closed at 14.00 and would reopen at 17.30. It was 14.30. 

Having for some reason got up at 8.30 that morning with a swilling hangover, I was less than pleased at this information. However, we decided that since we'd come such a long way, we could kill 3 hours meandering around the immediate area. 


We attempted to find some pavilions that the guidebook reliably informed us were just up the road (they weren't). Instead, we found a pond and some local wildlife.

Magical

We did find a cathedral that was a copy of St Basil's in Moscow and after finding various ways to cover our heads, we went inside. 

Not St Basil's

The interior was typical of Russian orthodox churches - every inch of the walls and ceiling was daubed with paintings of icons, along with gilded frames and statues of more icons. It was interesting to note the old Russian alphabet used a lot more Greek letters before it evolved into modern Cyrillic. Women with covered heads crossed themselves and bowed while we shuffled through the candlelit silence in awe at the overwhelming decoration and trying to stop our headscarves from falling off. 

When we were done with the church, we discovered for a small donation of 50r (£1), we could ascend a rickety staircase for a panoramic view of Peterhof and a collection of icons. Aside from the overall instability of the staircase, they had helpfully made it look like scaffolding and blocked out most of the light.

Not scary at all

When we reached the top we were met with a charming whitewashed tower, that we assumed was the main dome. There were a lot of plants, a lot of light and a beautiful ceiling, in stark contrast to that stupid staircase.

We also discovered that the 'panoramic view of Peterhof' actually meant 'panoramic view of the immediate boring area, which was the whole reason we came up here but we're so bored we'll take it anyway'. There were some lovely and mysterious rooms that felt like peering into someone's attic and finding a startling collection of Jesus paraphernalia.

I did manage to get a picture of the cathedral overlooking the 'Hotel Complex', a seeming retreat for the Peter-emulating oligarchy, where we presumed you get your own hotel. Of course. 

Lots of Hummers outside there. Lots of bling.

Once we'd squeezed all the fun out of the cathedral, we gave up and went back to wait by Peterhof, in the café. We were all looking forward to giving our feet a rest and getting a hot chocolate 'without milk' for 80r (£2), which seemed fair considering we would eschew the milky kind for the thick, melted chocolate anyway. 

What we actually got was the disappointingly small instant kind, made with hot water. Like the kind we drink back at our hostel, but smaller. Peterhof strikes again.

We attempted to kill more time by using their free wi-fi, going for a wander to the toilet (20r. Gah!) and exploring the mini-market (absolutely nothing to see there, it was a shop). 

The Russians are coming!

There was a brief glimmer of excitement from the parade of policemen that marched by. We took lots of pictures and tried not to get arrested. Though to be fair, that would definitely have killed some time.

Eventually, we followed the cunning Russians who started queuing an hour before the desks were due to open (Soviet-era smarts, anyone?) and queued from 16.45 to 17.30. In this time, our feet and ankles got sorer, we noticed a few Russians with handfuls of large, autumn sycamore leaves and it started to rain. 

By this point, we were all laughing (a lot) at the failure that was this day and imagining what else could go wrong. Our guess that only one ticket desk would open and it wouldn't be our one was totally wrong. We didn't imagine that once the desks did open, rather than the 200r we were expecting, the price would be 500r 'for all categories of citizen'. Ie, no student discounts. 

We discussed it and decided that it was worth a tenner to go inside even though we'd be too tired to stay for the show at 21.30 (and have no way of getting back). We got our tickets gruffly and with brevity so they wouldn't spot our foreignness and double the prices - yes, they actually do that.

Then, the excitement picked up - large speakers were blasting the 1812 ouverture, men in long overcoats lined the steps and through the bustling crowds we could make out gold statues, fine architecture and carefully sculpted grounds. One question remained: why were the fountains not working?

It quickly became apparent that the one thing we had really come there to see, that would have made the entire day worthwhile had been wrenched away from us. It hadn't occurred to us that a festival to celebrate the fountains being turned off would occur after the fountains had already been turned off. 

Nevertheless, we were in, finally and we set about trying to make the most of it. We were followed down the path by the Lord of the Rings-esque battle music, with really intimidating drums, and then dubstep, because this is Russia.

The gardens really were pretty, but it was difficult not to be somewhat bitter:

'Water Avenue', with significantly less water

Probably quite nice when it's less slimy

Little house with no moat

Ugliest fountain...ever

Until we found this one round the corner

We also met two girls called Nastya and Masha on the Gulf of Finland who told us our Russian was bad and took our emails. Hopefully the start of a beautiful friendship. We did have a great time getting out of the city though and even without water, the grounds are seriously impressive. Highlights being:

The gardens

This ridiculous thing

The Gulf of Finland - Finland is the dark blue line. You can't see it but I saw it and it was great.

Red squirrel/Bigfoot

This fricking mushroom

Leaf-fight therapy

The fountains came back on!

We all got given free flags and were surrounded by Russians loudly lecturing their children about the Russian victory - I still think get over it.

Mine broke after about 5 minutes. Thanked my stars Russia's a democracy now.

There was a respite from the onslaught of disappointments on the way home, apart from managing to get the exact same marshrutka with the exact same driver (bit embarrassing for some). 

Then we ran all the way home and I slept for about twelve hours. 

Edit: We have since found out we managed to pick the one day the fountains weren't on before they get properly turned off in October. There are no words.

The Hermitage - Ancient Egypt and Greece

We finally visited the Hermitage today. It is massive, impressive and absolutely gorgeous. It makes the British Museum look like a tatty load of trinkets that nobody wants.

On the way to the Hermitage from our hostel, you pass St Isaac's Cathedral and what appears to be the Naval Academy. This means a beautiful fountain and lots of men in funny sailor suits.

Not Paris. But it could be.

This guy treated us to both 'My Heart Will Go On', and 'My Way' - on the panpipes. He was not the weirdest person in the square.

Once we realised that our guinea pigs, the Japanese tourists taking flash photos, were not being dragged off by the many babushkas, we took full advantage of the lax rules. 

Eros riding a dolphin (which is not your friend)

Feeblest satyr ever, with thorn in his foot

Nothing gets past this babushka

The interior is a work of art in itself - everything is marble

Gigantic urn - that's actually how big it was

Luminescent water. No wonder we can't drink it.

The neon veils are a hen party, at the Hermitage. I adore Russians.

Starlings bathing. They are too cute.

Russia all over, really.

Jupiter!

Essentially, the Hermitage is vastly superior to any museum in my recent memory. I'm going to go live there.

Pervaya Nedel'ya - First Week

Spongebob graffiti

So far we've settled in enough to start thinking in rubles and remember to bring an umbrella, coat and sunglasses out with you at all times because the weather here is essentially the same as London, ie bloody annoying. I'm currently watching a programme in which I have seen someone being towed on a surfboard behind a car down a flooded road, someone planking on a bridge pushed by his friend into the river a good 100ft below and someone else somersault backwards off a bridge onto grass. TV is still awesome here.

We visited the beautiful park across the street from our hostel. We noticed that everyone talks in hushed tones so it's really peaceful, which is surprising because it's right next to a busy road. It has several islands that locals sit on to admire the water, with separate little ramps for the ducks. 

Then there's this chick. She's dressed as some kind of animé warrior, with thigh-high boots. Frustratingly, I wasn't able to get a closer picture without being a complete creep.

Russian take on cheeky monkey - not as cute

We have discovered that we can eat for ochen’ cheapsies by eating at a ‘Stolovaya’ or taking advantage of the bizniz lanch deals around the city, and then eating some combination of instant food and cheap baguette back at the hostel in the evening. Though I was given a 5000r (£100) note by an ATM the other day and because Russian cashiers are very begrudging with their change, I'm clearly going to have to break that in McDonald's. Shaaaame.

Good news, we have a fridge-freezer in our room. Bad news, we have a fridge-freezer in our room which intermittently makes creepy noises at night. Our first night here, I was shocked out of sleep to hear what I thought was several men imitating a train (don’t ask why), which turned out to just be the stupid fridge cooling down, but I've stopped noticing it now.

Speaking of sleep, we assumed that it was safe to try the local hooch last night as today is Saturday and we would get a lie-in. We drank some cheap wine out of a box, aiming for mid-price, 109r (about £2.50) for a litre, to see whether we needed to slide up or down the price-taste scale. It tasted like grapefruit juice until halfway down, until it tasted like cheap wine. I had to sit in the fridge to sober up, which was pretty effective. 

We then woke up just after 9am to this - the patriotic sounds of badly played tuba, drum, and various brass instruments. Looked out the window to see three men with a flag and many spectators gathered around the statue for the Octobrists, which is right across the street. A coach pulled up and amplified speeches were given. Then more songs were played, a bit of marimba, an electric guitar solo...it was too surreal for me to be really annoyed but if this happens every weekend, I will have to start heckling.

Also, the Russian women on our floor have complained about the crappy water pressure and the maximum lukewarm temperature in our shower. We all assumed it was normal in Russia for the shower to spew water half-heartedly, but luckily the Russkie saved us. I say saved us, management just turned off the hot water entirely for two days ‘while they fixed it’, so while the rest of us were left negotiating much stronger but absolutely freezing showers, the Russkie are filling up what looks like vegetable drawers from the fridge with hot water from the dispensers, presumably to throw over themselves in their rooms. Now the water smells slightly sulphurous and seemed to have a pale yellow tint, but I was so happy to wash my hair that I'm past caring. 

Above is Sennaya ploshad', with one of those melon cages I find fascinating. It's pretty nice during the daytime, although our rep, Seb, told us that at night it turns back into 'the ass of the world', as per its former reputation. Most notable for umbrella dispensers and a serious amount of pigeons. 

We thought it would be a good idea to let boiled water cool in our bottles because it would be clean. We did not consider the possibility of a melted, contracted bottle...

Really happy to see a kindred spirit seeing images in holes. There's also a puddle outside my hostel that looked like a face.

Settling In

Helloooo from Russia! Pictures will follow when I coordinate Internet access and having my camera cable on me. I don't have a lot of time until my next class, so here are some things that have happened: 

• Our second flight on Estonian Air was on a plane half the size of a normal one, that had propellers. Propellers. But also, complimentary warm mini muffins and mints, and a friendly stewardess who didn't mind both me and Ollie ruining our migration cards multiple times.
• Tallinn (Estonian capital) looks bleak from the air, has such a lack of urban planning it looks like a poorly-played game of Age of Empires and I'm pretty sure there was a moat around the airport.
• The hostel is actually pretty snazzy and we have free hot water dispensers, so if anyone wants to send me instant food, you do that, girlfriend.
• Russian TV is something else. We've been watching 'Голые смешные', or 'Funny naked people'. It's like 'Balls of Steel', except the pranks are that women get naked on the street and film people's reactions. There were such gems as burying a net under a (always topless) girl's towel on the beach and then picking her up in it. When they pranked a fat girl, a cartoon of a man pointing and laughing came on screen along with the sound of a pig oinking. Nice.
• We tried out a ' Столовая' last night, which is basically a dirt-cheap canteen. Sadly for us, we got distracted watching 'Давай пожениться!' - 'Let's get married!' which is like a cross between Take me Out and Loose Women, except the contestants usually get married (after a 30 second onstage date of course). Anyway, we got there not long before it was due to shut, so my dinner was yellow rice and cabbage. 50 rubles though, with a cup of tea, which is just over a pound. Boom.
• We also visited the Railway Museum, on my insistence, which had a surprising amount of old propaganda, several large paintings of Lenin and a real train carriage you could get inside. And it had a shower. On a train! More than my room has.

I will update more soon, because everyone needs to see the picture I took of the chalk Spongebob on the wall. And other stuff I guess. Lots of love! xxx

Leaving tomorrow!

'Soon-to-be-rich? - head resident of glamorous clubs'

Have fun in England, suckers! I will be living it up in Big P, like a босс.