So, I'm starting this day with the moment we got into Russia. It was about two in the morning, after sitting in the bus, dead tired, for half an hour. The bus wasn't really moving though; We didn't go further than three hundred meters, I think. It was spent going out of Estonia, (and getting our passports stamped,) and then sitting on the Bridge, waiting to go through Russian Customs. (The border of these two countries is a River, so the bridge is somehow part of neither country. or Both, depending on how you look at it.) And then we got there, and had to all climb out of the bus, get all our luggage out of the bus, (which Pamela and I had just put in, thirty minutes before,) and go into the little bureaucratic building there, to undergo the processing.

I was actually surprised at how little it was, at that point. It was check, double check, and then stamp-stamp-stamp. I was expecting much worse, because of what we'd had to do up until that moment; First, one needs a visa, to visit Russia. To get a visa though, you need an official "invitation" paper, which has on it exactly where you're staying in the country, and for how many days. This form needs to be done by someone in Russia. It can be done privately, if you've friends there, who will go through the trouble, but it's most often done by one's hotel. So, we had to book a hotel, so that they could fax us the form, so that we could apply for the Visas. Clear? And then, with the Visas, came a pair of papers, stapled into our Passports, with the exact information about where we were staying, and how many days we were allowed in the country. Ok. I actually was a bit worried, because my name had been translated into Russian, and then back to English, so I ended up with the scanable part of my visa saying that my name is "Mattyu Devid Sli" -And I thought this might present some problems.

Anyhow, on the Bus, (while we were waiting on the Bridge,) we were given some forms to fill out, which also asked for duration of stay, exact place of residence, (in Russia, and at home,) and so on. I later decided that this was the same as the paper that got stapled into our passports; It had most of the same information, and was also done as two copies. There was also the fact that both copies of the one stapled in were left there. Not touched, or perhaps even looked at. No real matter though. We didn't know anything at the time, so we filled out these other little forms. Then, the last thing was the taking of the luggage into the building.

You see now why I was expecting a third-degree grilling? I expected personal interviews, and much snooping through underwear and dirty socks. But we only waited there, then got stamp-stamp-stamp, and then wait for the search of the bus to be finished. And then we all piled back in, and the man who I was sitting next to, was kind enough to move, so that Pamela and I were together. (We were so glad of that.) We then slept. Fitfully, and an uncomfortable Bus-Seat sleep, but together, so at least we could let our bodies slump together,(which I wouldn't feel like doing with a stranger in the seat beside me.)

I think I was sleeping deeper than Pamela. At one point, she opened her eyes half way, saw the bus was stopped, and some people getting out, and thought to herself, "what wretched little town, in the middle of the night, is this?" There was the little complication for us, you see, that we were not getting out at the main bus Terminal in St. Petersburg, (it lay somewhere distant from the center, and with no Subway station near-by.) We were going to the Baltic Station, which has a Subway right there. So, back in the Bus, at 4:30 in the morning, our time, (Russia is One hour earlier than Estonia,) Pamela was looking out the window, wondering what this little town was, and she saw a big sign saying... well, something in Russian. But she picked out the letters "?-A-?-T-?-?-C-K-A-?.....", and decided to wake me and ask. So, I opened my eyes... at least half way. And read the big sign, to humor my love. (Wake me up to read a Russian sign for you? Well... it's a good thing I love you so Much.) and I said... "Baaaaaaallllll-Tiiiiisssss-Kaaaaaa-yaaaaaa- Oh Bugger!! We're here!"

So, we hopped out, and got our Luggage, (the bus was there for perhaps ten minutes unloading people and luggage, so it wasn't such a last-second rush for us.) And there we were, in SAINT PETERSBURG. Wow! A foreign Capital. A huge, cultural metropolis! What did we want to do first!?!

That is actually a very good question. Because it was 5:30 in the morning, It had been 22 hours since either of us had lain in a bed, and we had 30 kilos of luggage with us. We decided that the first problem was the Luggage. We'd go to the Hotel we had our reservation at, and see if we could leave the luggage there. We'd also ask what the earliest time is we could take our room. (It was reserved for that night, after all. And the previous people normally have until noon to check out.) So... we wanted to go to the Hotel.

So, let's take the subway. Ah... but... we have no Russian Roubles. We were going to change our money here. -And everything, EVERYTHING is closed there, at 5:30 in the morning. Well, we can ask at the Subway, if there's any place at all to change money. Oh... look at that. The subway only opens at 6:00. Oh. Bloody... marvelous. So then...

That's when we noticed how large, empty, and distant from everything this bus-station looked. (Oh wait, it was only I who noticed it then. Pamela had seen that at first, and was wondering about the "stupid little town.") Well, I thought that we could walk towards the center of town, knowing that there'd at least be more shops there, and therefore a greater chance of finding one which opens very, Very early. So, we flipped to the map in our guide-book, and poured over it. With no luck. We could not find ourselves on the map. I wanted to ask passers-by, where we were, but there was no one. We could see no-one at all. I had the idea to look at the Subway plan though, which was also in our guide book, and that at least revealed that we were... South of the center. By about five Subway stops. Well... then what was there to do? I looked towards the sun, (In July, in Petersburg, Sunrise is at about 3:20 am,) and pointed North. "That," I said to Pamela," is the direction of the Center. Shall we go there?" Well... what else was there to do? At worst, we would end up waiting at another Subway station, waiting for the day to begin. So, off we went. (I'm so Lucky that Pamela loves and trusts me.)

Now, the interesting thing is, that this was such a lovely, perfect, wonderful morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there was no traffic, cars OR people. We got to see the city in perfect peace and silence. Crossing one bridge, with it's ornamental railings, and beautiful, still water, reflecting a beautiful, still city, I said to Pamela, "Do you know what? We should really be enjoying this; It actually is quite perfect, And... I don't think we'll be up this early ever again. On this whole vacation. So, on we walked, with a steadily rising nice feeling.

And suddenly, we were on the map! I'd been stopping every few streets, and pronouncing the name, letter by letter, and we got to one which was on our map. So we knew where we were! At that point, we could make a re-evaluation of our situation. The question was this: Should we walk right to the center of the city, where the biggest tourist services will be, (it would take us about twenty minutes to walk there,) or shall we go directly to the hotel? (This would take only twenty five to thirty minutes.) With the luggage in tow, and a nice feeling for this morning, we decided to go to the hotel. So, On we walked. Over this canal, and through that square, and another canal, looking around us, and noticing the increasing number of people who were now awake. Then we went across the Neva, (the big river flowing through St. Petersburg,) and were nearly at our destination.

Before we got there though, we went along one old street, which had a large pedestrian path in the middle of it. And Pamela was surprised by the avenue of trees which went along it's whole length; They were Larch Trees. Of course, that meant nothing to me, but Pamela assured me, that always, always, Always, avenues of trees are normally Deciduous, (meaning leafy trees, not trees with needles.) I guess... that might make sense: that conifers would be a bit dark, to have all in a row like that. But I still wasn't as shocked and amazed as Pamela was. She had to take a picture of it, naturally. (When one sees such a shocking, astounding concept in Landscape architecture... well, one needs a picture of it, or else the colleagues probably would never believe your stories of it. Perhaps.) And then... after being a little more lost, and asking for directions from two or three people, we got to the hotel. (The mailing address, and the street address, are on the street Sredniy, and we got to the right number, and there was no hotel there at all. It was a tobacco shop, a hair dresser, and a couple private residences. -All of which were closed. We eventually found out the the Hotel's entrance, was 200 meters down the cross street. We were very, VERY glad that someone was able to tell us that, or else I don't know how we would have found it.

And we had SUCH great luck, when we got to the Hotel; We explained that we had a room reserved for that night, and asked if there was any place we could keep our luggage during the day. And they said, "OK... here's the key to the room." It was already FREE! We could unpack, shower, and LIE DOWN AND SLEEP!!! What a blessing.

We were woken up, a couple of hours later, by the phone ringing, -and when I answered, no one was there. OK, I went back to sleep. But Pamela was... (don't ask me why,) awake, and motivated, and not wanting to sleep any longer. So, she showered, unpacked her things, and looked through the guide-book some more, researching what there was to do. (In the last paragraph, I said we COULD unpack and shower. I didn't say we DID do either of those things. We just went to sleep.) Then the phone rang again, and again, the person on the other end hung up when I answered. So, I rolled over, and closed my eyes again. And then opened them, when I realized that Pamela was sitting there watching me. "Yes darling? Is there a reason you're not sleeping?" -and I wondered how it was, that she wasn't in bed any more. Not only was she awake, but she was eagerly awake. It's like a puppy, who sits there waiting for you to wake up, so that the day can begin. -Because the day beginning is just the most exciting thing that could ever happen. Well... if Pamela felt like that, then there wasn't really any hope of my going back to sleep, was there? Not that she's so assertive as to not let me sleep if I really wanted to, but... Well, it's just... Hmmmm. When my sleepiness was weighed against her excitement, I found that her feeling was greater than mine. And I love her, and she loves me, so... we were bound to work out the best route for both of us. Yes? Clear?

So, our day in St. Petersburg began. (Day, as a separate thing from bloody-early-in-the-morning.)

First thing we did, was go to a bank a few blocks away, and finally change some money into Russian Roubles, and then... we were going to start our looking around Chronologically: And the very first bit of the city that was built, in the festering swamp which stood here centuries ago, was the Peter-Paul Fortress, (on it's own little island in the river.) Before we got there though, there was a point of an island, with the two historic light-houses on it. They were built in 1810, for the Petersburg Harbour... and they were something... other, as normal light houses. They are two tall pillars, (or towers, I guess,) which are highly ornamented. Then on top, each has a large metal braiser, which a fire can be lit in. At some point, I'm sure that it was lit by gas. So, when lighted, one sees a huge flame, burning up in the sky. That is the personality of these lighthouses.

We next got to the Peter-Paul place, which we were also interested in, because it was one of the few Free places to look at in Petersburg. (Oh dear; That sounds rather bad, doesn't it? As if we were not interested that it was the heart of the city, with the very first buildings that were made. No, we just were very cheap, and would have been just as pleased to see a garbage dump. Is it clear that I'm being ironic?) Well... we walked along the fortress wall, looking for the way in... and we got to a beach, -We nearly got to a beach, but there's a booth, selling tickets, which you need to buy, before proceeding to the beach. And we're disappointed. It was supposed to be FREE to look at this island. Perhaps though... perhaps it's just tickets to look at the sand-castle competition, which seems to be going on over there. So Pamela and I decided to go back, and see if there would be some way, somewhere, to see the fortress itself. There was a nice little Crêpe booth we had seen, but it was still closed. And Pamela was feeling a great need for a coffee. (We'd had nothing to eat or drink yet, and it must have been at least ten in the morning.) So, we decided to try out this little boat-bar-café thing sitting moored to the shore there. They had Coffee to offer, so we sat down, and ordered. The sticky-bun I had was alright... but Pamela says her Coffee was deplorable. Truly awful. But at least it was a hot drink, and a shot of Caffeine, so we continued our search for a way into the fortress.

And we found one, which was indeed free. Looking around inside however... we saw that not everything was open yet. And many of the ones that were, had an entrance fee: The manor-house, the factory museum, the cathedral, the walk along the fort's walls. So, we thought we'd at least walk around, and see what there IS to see, before we were going to spend our money going into something. We were both struck by one tourism concept we saw: There was a tent set up, where people could rent costumes. Probably for a minute, just for a picture, or by the hour. And so there were a number of (silly) tourists, walking around, in 18th century court dress. And the women in big, frilly gowns. (And the children too.) Is there anywhere else in the world that tourists can do this? Just stop at a stall, in a square, and come out dressed for the last century? Well... we thought it was a distinct, and original idea.

Pamela wanted to look at a statue, which was a bit infamous, while we were in the fortress. It was a strangely (badly,) proportioned statue of Peter the Great, (He was the one who decided Russia needed a city of Canals; it's own Venice or Amsterdam, and sent thousands of workers into the swamp to make it happen.) We thought that we saw the statue's head, and went towards that... only to be more and more surprised by it. And then we found out, that what we were looking at, was part of a tent, and exhibition about the film industry, and special effects and things. We were, in fact, looking at an Alien's head.

When we found the right statue however, it really wasn't much better. It had a very shrunken head, a little smaller than the statue's knee. And the fingers were very, very long and bony, (and would have been very well suited to Hollywood aliens.) It was, an ugly, Ugly statue. We then headed back to the main square, which was in front of the cathedral, and considered going inside there. We ended up deciding against it, and using our time to look at other parts of the city. But while we sat there deciding, we overheard some tourist-group-guide telling the story of 175 years ago: The cross on top of the cathedrals steeple, which is 120 meters high, fell off. And no one knew how to go up and re-fasten it, (without taking weeks to build scaffolding up, and up, and up to that height.) One Farmer came forward with a clever idea using ropes, and went up to the top himself, and re-fasted the cross. As a reward, the Tsar gave him a special cup, which everyone in the country was obliged to fill with alcohol, if the bearer should ask for it. -And then, in a short time, the farmer died of Alcohol poisoning. Nice story, isn't it?

I decided to take just one photo of this steeple, before we left, and set my camera for the difficult shot of having the sun right behind the steeple -And then a cloud covered the sun. I waited a bit, and waited a bit more, and decided not to wait any longer. So, with a partly obscured sun, I took the picture -And one second later... (the sun came out? No...) The cannon was fired, as it is every day at Noon. We were not expecting it, so it was a shock. Rather more than a shock. It was such a tremendous BOOM, which was felt through the entire body. (The cannon was On the Island. Probably only 100 meters or so from where we were standing.) So, that was a -surprise. Then we were heading off of the island... but had some trouble getting there. We ended up walking underneath a bridge, by the river, to get onto it from the other side, and were then interested by some unusual details: The ornamental street-lamps had 50 cm arrows incorporated into the design. That struck me as unusual. (axes, swords, and other things seemed more suited to it. But an Arrow, sticking out horizontally, with the light hung from it... I'd never seen before.) There was also the cross-walk lights. I guess the Russians must be greatly, Greatly impatient or something, because besides having the signs for walk, and don't-walk, there's a sign which says how many seconds remain, before the sign will change. Is it like that anywhere else in the world?

On the north side of the river, we then saw two more things. One was a Mosque, with blue tile-work all over. We both thought it looked quite nice, and were trying to find just the right angle for us to take a picture of it. There was some other tourist, standing right in front of it, that I actually was conscious of, in one of my pictures. Our photos being done, we went walking onwards. And then this tourist, (seeing me hung about with a number of cameras,) asked if I would photograph her, with her camera. "Oh, Sure!" -Because I'm such a great photographer and all... right? Well, this Camera of hers would let me have no such delusions; I pressed the button, and nothing happened. She came back up to me, (she was posing on the steps,) and I said that it didn't seem to work... so she checked the flash, and made sure it was wound, and we did it all again, -exactly the same, including her coming up, and checking that everything OUGHT to be working. And I think it even happened one more time after that too...where the camera just would Not work for me. And then it would have been the fourth try, when it actually went "click." That was a very, Very brutal experience for my photographic Ego.

The second thing we saw was the town-house of Methilde Kschesinskaya, (Who was one of the stars of the Ballet, a century ago.) We only went into the court-yard, (and it wasn't clear, from there, if it was possible to go into the house itself.) But the courtyard was... grey, dingy, crumbling, decaying, and old, old old. The thing was... Pamela and I saw these exact aspects in different ways; She saw it to be depressing, and I guess sad, that a nice building was let to "die." I saw it as beautiful, and powerful. I was excited by the statement it made, and by the very moroseness it had. It is the same feeling that I love, when I see old, OLD ruins; it was excitement, and awe, and love of the powerful, hard lines, made softer by moss and dust, and so on. I don't feel I've made myself clear yet, but I don't know how I could. I think that a part, (though only a part,) is the fact that it evokes a feeling. And many new, well kept places, seem so, So neutral. They are designed especially to be neutral, and to say nothing to the eye.

I hope I'll be forgiven, when I now give up trying to explain this concept.

We walked on down, across the river, and into the center of the city. The first thing on our mind at that time was Lunch, and we found a decent pizza place. (Which I don't remember a thing about now; I just made a note, that we had Pizza for Lunch.) Then... we'd decided to go to the Hermitage for the afternoon. (Everyone should have heard of the Hermitage, but, in case this is your first time, it's The Russian museum. Huge, huge HUGE, and of astounding world renown.) The trouble we had with it first, was finding the entrance; We were walking along the side of it for ten or fifteen minutes. (One side of it takes that long to walk along.) It was a bit of a pity, that we didn't have enough money with us for the entrance fee plus the fee you need to pay to take a camera in with you... but... it's just as well, that I didn't take any more time, taking pictures while inside.

Our second problem, you see, was deciding what we would look at. I believe it's been calculated, that if someone spent one minute, looking at each Painting, (and every Rembrandt, Picasso, Renoir, and Davincci deserves at least a minute, right?) they would have to be there for five years continuously. And then there's the two-and-a-half million articles on display which are Not paintings. So... we had to cut it down to one short afternoon. You understand then, I hope, if I don't go into detail, over all the things we looked at.

We started with the archaeological section, (which is something I have an interest in, and Pamela was indifferent to.) Well... Eastern Europe Archaeology. (We didn't look through their Greek, Roman, or Egyptian sections.) Then we went to the State rooms, which we were both interested in seeing. The building used to be the Winter Palace of Russia, so it had many stately... rooms. And old furniture, and so on. After that, we looked at the silver work, and other precious stones, and wood, and ivory, and pearl... and so on. I've got to say, the Silver Filigree just blew my mind away. When it's a box the size of a loaf of bread, made out of silver threads, each one one millimetre thick, made into little curls four millimetres wide... it's just... astounding. The level of precision, and workmanship... Is truly something that is not seen today. Even with laser robotics, which can have precision down to a hundredth of a millimeter, such masterpieces are still not created.

Then we went Upstairs, (and through corridors, and down stairs... and through the labyrinth in general,) and saw the collection of paintings from the Flanders Region. (This one was a very special wish of Pamela. I'd never heard of a single famous Flanders Painter. So, I just came along, and saw whatever there was to see.) I'm not sure what I did see there, now, other than the fact, that it was most certainly a collection of the Masters. It was there, that there were a series of paintings of food. Well, one of fruit, of all manner of fruit. And one of all kinds of birds which are good to eat. And so on.

I then took Pamela on a long, Long, LONG path, to get to some other old palace rooms, and in specific, the "Peacock Clock." I'd seen it once on some Television Program, many years ago, but recognised it all the same. It's a masterpiece of gold and jewels, (and clockwork too!) in the shape of a tree, with a peacock sitting in it, and a number of animals here and there about it -and then all of these can become animated when it strikes the hours. (They are only animated once a month, to save wear and tear on this irreplaceable artwork.) But the bells chime a tune, every quarter of an hour, so we were waiting around, and waiting around, (and our feet were totally dead by this time,) and we sat down on the bottom step of a roped off stairway, but were told we were not allowed to sit there, and waited around some more... and then heard the pretty little melody of the clock.

The clock had struck five though, so in our last hour, before the museum would shut, we went into the Impressionist section. And here I actually recognised names, and individual paintings too. I can say... that I was a little shocked... when I came face-to-face with so many of these great paintings for the first time. When we got to the end of this section, the security was already closing off some of the rooms, so off we went, (throwing our eyes about as fast as we could as we walked through new rooms, and down one beautiful stairway, on our way out.)

We were TIRED then, (both from a long day, and from so much walking and standing,) so we bought a bottle of water from a small stand on the street, I started navigating us to a park, where we could sit in peace, and reflect upon the masses of art we had just been seeing. The park we went to, was called the Mihailovsky (park,) and we were delightfully surprised to see that right next to it is the classical "Onion Dome" Orthodox cathedral. I mean of the type on post-cards, with many bright colours, and swirly patterns on the domes. So, we got to see that too. And then we were in the park... and looking for some place to sit down. We saw a number of benches, all of which were full. There were also a number of people walking around... and I thought that they too might be in search of places to sit. (And the grass was out of the question: there were little metal fences around every bit of grass there.) So... we ended up loitering around one end, where it looked like the people on the bench might be leaving soon. And they did, after only five or ten minutes. So we got to sit!!! (And Boy, did we need it.)

It was just then, that I got one of my "best" portrait pictures of Pamela; Sitting on the bench, with her chin in her hand, tired, with sore, sore feet, and no energy at all. She's doesn't look Beautiful, (well, except to me,) but it's such a... honest picture. It really shows the truth.

As we were both tired to the extreme, we took the subway back to the hotel, and had a bit of a nap, (for an hour or two... or more...) And woke up a bit later than we meant to, because we still had to go and find some dinner. Our plan was to find a beautiful restaurant near the Mariinsky theater, (which we had passed by at some point... I think.) This is also called the Kirov, (I don't know when, or why they changed the name at one point, but they did.) It was unfortunate then, that we awoke to the sound of thunder, and rain. Fortunately, by the time we were ready to go, it had practically stopped. So off we went, (not taking the subway, because we didn't know how late it ran.)

The rain started a bit, shortly after we left the hotel. By the time we got to the river, it was a good down-pour. And when we were then on the bridge, crossing the river, the wind really picked up too, so that there was nothing we could do to keep from being soaked through. I mean absolutely, to the point where your outer garments could be wrung out, and water comes out of your shoes with every step you take. We took shelter in a doorway, once we got to the end of the bridge, but the rain didn't really let up then. So, after five or ten minutes, we set out again, walking in the direction of the theater. The One restaurant we eventually saw was, alas, just closing. And we thought there might be many, now closed. And our spirits were... damp, if not drowned. So, we walked back towards the hotel, (again, across the windy, soaking bridge.) We took a different path after that though, taking us through one of the larger pedestrian streets in that area. And just before we had to turn off of it, to head to the hotel, we saw a Rustic, Beer-garden style restaurant. It was not especially warm inside, but it was Dry! And the food was hot, and wholesome.

We didn't stay there long after eating though, as we were still somewhat damp. (Pamela and I have a fight about that point now. She says that "somewhat damp" is the most extreme understatement imaginable. I remember it being... that we were still wet. But I don't think that we could have wrung out our clothing. Pamela, however, says that we were still dripping where we stood. But that's clearly impossible: We'd been sitting for nearly an hour, so every possible drip would have already dripped it's self off. In the end though, it could just be a matter of us having different ideas about what "wet" is. Coming from the west coast of Canada, I feel that it's not Truly raining, unless all clothing is soaked through within ten or fifteen minutes.) We went back to the hotel, to have a hot shower, and get to sleep. And so ended our First, (very long,) day in Saint Petersburg.