April, I’ve decided, is my favourite month. Not only have I been travelling non-stop, jetting from Latvia to the UK to Italy and most recently to Russia, but there are still exciting things ahead (birthday parties, theatre, half marathons, oh my!). As much as I’d love to talk about everything all at once, let’s concentrate on St Petersburg.
I’ve been to the Northern Capital before, but that was back in 2007. Despite being a moody teenager at the time, I have a lot of positive memories associated with that trip, not the least of which was walking around singing Diskoteka Avariya a couple of years after they’d gone out of fashion with a friend of mine from Canada (the photograph below is all that survived – horrendous, I know).
I was also approached by the weirdest characters. One soldier told me I hold my bag like a rifle, a Hare Krishna devotee tried selling me a book by recommending I try feeling its energy, and a series of random Russian boys requested I kiss them (the response to my refusal was always “why? Am I ugly?”).
One of the most unexpected coincidences happened in Peterhof. Walking by the fountains, I caught the surprised gaze of my Canadian classmate. We didn’t say a single word to each other, not even when we saw each other again – and again – and again the following night at a performance of Swan Lake at the Mariinsky Theatre. But hey, we’re now friends, so all’s well that ends well.
This trip was different. I wasn’t tagging along with my grandparents’ friends, but rather joining people my own age for what was meant to be a four-day weekend getaway. Of course, me being me, I confused the date of departure and set off a day before anyone else.
A quick flight spent immersed in Hanya Yanagihara’s fascinating The People in the Trees, I had arrived. First stop, cashpoint. I withdrew 1000 rubles and strode up to Information.
“Is this enough to get me to the centre?” I demanded from two sleepy-looking teenagers.
“It depends on how you prefer to travel.” One of them replied, sounding a tad sarcastic. Meanwhile, the other had looked up conversion rates and announced that 1000 rubles was roughly EUR 13.49, so I was good to go. A 40-ruble marshrutka ride and a 36-ruble metro trip later, I was on Nevsky Prospekt.
Because I lacked a plan, my first day was very spontaneous. I listened to street musicians singing Kino in front of the Winter Palace, I snacked on delicious cottage cheese cakes, I stumbled across my hostel through back alleys and winding courtyards, and I found myself a personal guide of St Petersburg’s rooftops during the golden hour.
The following day began with pyshki, which are a type of Russian doughnut served with Soviet coffee (brewed in a barrel with sugar and milk). I even visited the oldest pyshechnaya (café serving pyshki), where a very severe looking lady in a Soviet uniform informed me that cards are not accepted.
Afterwards, I made my way to Yusupov Palace, which I had been dreaming of visiting ever since I read Prince Felix Yusupov’s memoirs. It didn’t disappoint.
St Petersburg is a city of palaces. I visited only three this time around – in addition to Yusupov Palace, I joined my friends on a tour of Catherine Palace in Tsarskoye Selo and the Hermitage Museum, located within the Winter Palace.
But I digress. The first evening was spent enjoying traditional Russian cuisine at Tsar (where I was dressed up in a crown and regal gown, as is befitting my station). The tour to Pushkin, where we also saw an exhibition dedicated to royal carriages and visited the Royal Chapel, took place the following day.
Breakfast on Easter Sunday was spent at a café famous for serving a syrnik (quark pancake) weighing an entire kilogramme. After a long visit to the Hermitage, which we spent transfixed by da Vinci’s paintings and trying (unsuccessfully) to edge closer to Titian’s works, we were off to our favourite restaurant of the trip: Russkaya Ryumochnaya No.1. The food was heavenly, the nastoyki (liquers) delicious, and the musicians playing traditional ballads only added to the atmosphere.
For our final breakfast, I took the group for pyshki, where we ordered 22 doughnuts, six coffees, and six (sweet) dips – all for under seven euros. If I could, I’d probably live there.
On that note, this has turned out massively long already, so I’ll wrap up. To briefly summarise: if you haven’t been to St Petersburg already, go. Go now!
Swordfoosh 