Dear All,

in a few hours my trip really ends! This is written and sent to you from St. Petersburg late on the last evening in Russia. I lie, actually, the day I fly home has just started. I'm a bit sad to be leaving since I've had a great time, but I am looking forward to coming home again too. And it's been long enough now. Oh and that first pint of bitter. And lots of other things to look forward to as well, so that helps.

Before I forget, the train trip from Yaroslavl to Moscow was very comfortable. The confusion when buying the ticket was because I was on a normal day-train, similar to those at home. Except more comfortable, I guess I might have travelled something like first class. Big comfy seats, a table for every 4 seats, wide space between the two sets of seats in the carriage, nice curtains on the windows, television and video in the carriage. And, in the back of the one I was in, a (licensed!) bar. Great! It was let down by the toilet though, one of the squat-ones. Now normal toilets are difficult enough on a moving train, but this... I was very glad I can't smell!

Because it was a hot day, all the windows were open making for a windy sweaty and dusty trip. And yet, all Russians looked so shower-fresh at the end of it! I don't know how they do it - I must have looked as though I'd just spent, well, 5 hours on a hot, dusty and sweaty train! One bloke especially, with Hugh-Grant-floppy-hair, looked immaculate before and after the trip. But I'd seen him pick his nose halfway through, so that made up for it.

Moscow was a great place. The difference between it and the other cities I'd seen before it was amazingly obvious. For the first time in Russia I felt that I was in a big city - even Novosibirsk with 1.6 million people didn't feel like that. It is also much more affluent and western, in some ways, than other cities. However, there's enough here to make it a Russian city (although at least I never got shouted at). In some respects it reminds me of Prague, in that the main tourist attractions cater for westerners, with the usual crappy markets, restaurants where people speak English and have English menues etc. Sadly, the prices are higher in consequence. But then you turn a few corners, and the nice facades of buildings give way to greyer places, or houses in need of repair. The English signs disappear and it's back to the Russian style shops (state what you want, pay, then collect what you hope are the goods you wanted). Prices immediately go down a factor of 5 to 10. Bizarrely too, some of the smaller streets reminded me very much of... Antwerp, although I'm not sure why exactly.

The whole city seems to be in a state of change, from the communist past to an uncertain future. From what I've read, few people in Russia can actually afford the new conveniences. Indeed, the old people (at least 80% women) collecting glass bottles, presumably to hand them in for some small change at a recycling centre, are still here. And there are far more rough sleepers and drunks that I've seen in other cities. In a further bizarre superposition of worlds, quite often shop exteriors will be glitzy and modern, but the products they sell aren't. And it is obvious from the way people dress that those Russians who are able to enjoy the western-style places are well-off. Even though the fashion is still stangely out-of-fashion (although I can't put my finger on why exactly), you spot the richer ones. A prime example of this odd rich/poor contrast is the GUM, the big store on Red Square: fabulous to look at and in with its glass roof and modern, almost minimalist interior (but built in 1800's!) but definitely the Harrod's of Moscow: expensive, even for us! It's surprising - I had thought that this change, from Siberian to more western, would happen gradually as I travelled westwards, instead it seems to be demarcated by the Ural mountains - I guess they are a border in more than just a geographical sense.

But I had a wonderful time in Moscow. Red Square, with the St. Basil's church, is a spine-tingler, although the exterior (with the upside-down onion domes) is better than the interior. Too many small rooms and the decorations aren't as grand as I've seen in other, less famous churches. The Kremlin (which used to be a walled castle), right next door, is very impressive from the outside. Once you buy the expensive tickets to get in, there really isn't that much to see. Most of the buildings are rather anonymous - indeed used by the government. But the 5 or so cathedrals there are well worth visiting, some of the bigger ones incredibly decorated with icons all over the walls and pillars. No pews so just one incredible open space. And even though it's all decorated, it's not oppresive in any sense, quite bizarre. The view from a bridge over the river Moscow, just outside the Kremlin and overlooking it and St. Basil's, is very pretty, both by day and night. Hopefully at least some of the pictures of it will come out. I also went to see Lenin, "still in great shape after 80 years of death". He looked very small, actually, and more like a Madam Tussaud's statue than a once living human being. His tomb was much less frilly than Mao's, and there were no watches with Lenin on to be bought outside it. Although he does appear on the matrioshka's, the wooden dolls-within-dolls. As does Harry Potter, for that matter, and the Lord of the Rings. Anyway, after you visit Lenin's tomb you walk alongside one of the Kremlin walls, which houses some other famous Russians, amongst them Brezhnev, Gagarin and... Stalin.
In between the more modern buildings there are still plenty of Stalin's gems, and lots of the so-called Stalinist Wedding Cakes, truly bizarre tall buildings, almost gothic in their decoration, but still quite anonymous. Another fine example is to be found at VDNKh, a metro station near a park by the same name. This was built to celebrate the achievement of some economical goals Stalin had set, and consists of several huge buildings, each decorated with many communist stars, gold-leaf CCCP emblems, hammers and sickles, statues of strong men and good childbearing women working the land or heavy machinery. Spread over a large area, with many big fountains and ponds in between. Bizarrely, this communist symbol is now more of a capitalist symbol, since each building is filled with small stall-like shops selling crappy cameras, VCRs, TVs, kitchens, furniture, CDs, clothes etc. But, with the sun shining, the many people, children especially, enjoying the water, and an ice cream it is a delightful place to spend a few hours.
The grandeur of the buildings and spaces (Red Square is huge!) is continued underground, in the metro system. Extensive and truly palatial, as my Good Book describes it. Some of the stations are decorated with greek pillars, often decorated with leaves and colours, huge chandeliers, frescoes on the wall, statues and paintings of war heroes and mythical figures... Only a communist country, I think, could have done this to what is, after all, just a way of moving about the city. But it's cheap (R5 for a single ticket anywhere, that's about 15 dollarcent or 10 pence) and very efficient: you never (and I mean never!) wait more than 5 minutes for a train. The one bizarre thing about it is that at interchanges, a station will have as many names as there are lines going through it. Which can be quite confusing at first.

One of the restaurants I ended up eating in with someone I'd met in the hostel (see later) was in the style of an American diner according to the Good Book. And lo and behold it was! Complete with the neon-lighting, the seats and everything. Even the waitresses had dressed for it: sneakers, tights, the pleated skirts and polo-shirts. And the burgers were great (better than many I've had in the US). And the milk shake came with the last bit still in the metal cup. And the service, although not as manic as it would be in the States, was far nicer than the average service in Russia. It was a very bizarre experience though, sitting in the middle of Moscow, the old enemy, enjoying that most American of dinner-experiences. Who needs drugs when you can do that?

Another nice thing about Moscow was the youth hostel I was staying in: after weeks of hotels, finally something cheaper and more social! It was in a building that reminded me (as others have done in the past, notably in Yekaterinburg) of Kafka's books: the angry guardspeople at the entrance, many seemingly endless corridors with lots of doors going into nameless offices, with nameless people in them. Strange. The hostel was filled with the usual backpackery-type people, usually at least 5 years younger than I am, holding the same conversations we've all heard before. But the odd one stood out - I met Paul, an Australian but definitely a-typical. Artist, sociologist, historian, russophile, psychoanalyst, ethnologist, ethicist, philosopher and then some! He was both very interesting and interested, and we spoke for hours as we ambled through the streets of Moscow. He had lived here 12 years ago, just before the fall of communism, and was a great source of information. As he spoke Russian, he was also very "useful". But it was great, we discussed music (he's an opera-fan), poetry and writing, science, ethics, sociology and a bit of group psychology... simply wonderful. He took me to the Mayakovsky museum, dedicated to an author by that name, which was great, especially since he knew much about him and could explain things to me. Arty-farty-drivel? Perhaps, but it was enjoyable and completely new to me. And who am I to criticise? The ideas and history he explained sounded plausible to me. The other thing he introduced me (and others from the hostel) to was vodka the Russian way. Slam down the vodka, exhale to get rid of the fumes, and then immediately eat something. The feeling of the alcohol spreading through your body and the food going down is quite amazing. And Red Square is so much the nicer after one or more of these...

The other person I met was Steve Vidler. We were both on the same bridge taking pictures of the Kremlin. I noticed (geek!) his camera, a professional model and asked him about it. We got talking, about cameras, photography and some of the developments therein, not just the digital vs. film but also the recent growth of two main picture libraries which hope -and try- to dominate and completely own the world's supply of pictures. We both agreed this was not good, and he didn't see it happen. Basically, Steve is a professional photographer selling his pictures to so-called stock libraries, these are the people that supply other places (travel agents, postcard people etc.) with pictures. As we were talking two Russian girls asked me to take a picture of them, which I did. Steve then wanted a picture of me with one of them, looking at a map - we both obliged. The girls then left and Steve and I continued chatting, now over a beer which he bought. He then took me to dinner, which he described as my "modelling fee". I signed the "model release form" (allowing him to use the picture without me being able to sue him), and we shared another beer. He said he was one of the biggest people in travel photography for stock libraries. Considering he lives in (not near, really in!) Butler's Wharf, he must be - it's one of the most expensive areas in London. He bought his flat for a "mere" GBP200,000 (yes 200 grand) but now it's worth - sit down first - upwards of 5 million pounds! Definitely a friend I want to keep!

From Moscow I took the Nikolayevsky Express to St. Petersburg, an 8-hour overnighter. This is a prestigious route and the train was decked out too: more comfortable seats, newer cloth on them, bed linen was already on them, better towels (but still tea towels), a bottle of water and even a lunch box. And to top it all off: the Mythical Corridor Carpet was visible, and you could walk on it! Wow! This last train journey was comfortable, and for the first time in a long time there were foreigners on the train, although none in my carriage. It all explained why this was the most expensive journey I've made. Still, in all I travelled the full 10,468 km (200 hours worth) for about USD300. Eat your heart out BR!
I arrived in St. Petersburg and after faffing about in the youth hostel checking in, went out to explore. And what a ....... disappointment that was! I had high hopes of Nevsky Prospect, described countless times in Dostoyevsky's books. Although it is a several kilomer long, wide street with lots of stately buildings, there are now two times four lanes of very busy and polluting traffic. And the nice buildings are all (and I mean all!) in scaffolding. I kid you not - all nice buildings in this whole site are boarded up, the world's supplies of scaffolding are all here! Which might explain why nothing anywhere else ever gets fixed. The reason is that next year St. Petersburg celebrates its 300th anniversary so it's all being done up. As a result, I got to see, through the thick clouds of petrol fumes, the uglier buildings, and scaffolding. Great. Not. Luckily, the view from the top of one of the many churches here was good, you could hardly see the scaffolding. The music they played from the viewpoint (Tchaikovsky, some Rachmaninov) only helped the viewing. Although it was a bizarre experience, standing there with the music going. Hm.

The youth hostel is up to usual youth hostel standards. Beds are good, rooms are clean, breakfast is edible. Although they seem to own the world's supply of a certain type of Russian cereal. Like some of the museum tickets I got, torn out of a book using a ruler, dating from before the cold war (the museum tickets even said "CCCP"), they were probably made in huge quantities during the war for use after the Nuclear War and during the (inevitable) supremacy of the USSR. So expect to see more of this for the next 50 or so years. The strangest thing in the hostel is the shower-situation. From a central room there are three separate showers for women, with hot water. There is one room with 4 separate cubicles for the men, with cold water. A Russian version of positive discrimination, perhaps.
But there are some really nice things too. I went to the Hermitage Museum - this houses just under 3 million pieces of art work in 300 rooms, making it bigger (apparently) than the Louvre or the British! After queueing up for a while I finally got into the building, where there was more queueing. Soon the reason for this became obvious: there are four points to buy tickets, but only two at a time would be open. I guess it's to give us foreigners an extra real Russian experience. Tickets, by the way, are normally R300 or about USD10; as a student you get in for free. Got the ticket and, an hour after arriving at the place, made it into the museum! Woohoo! And what a place it was. The building is simply spectacular - if all the paintings (and sculptures and items of clothing and weapons and...) all of a sudden disappeared I could still happily wander around in absolute awe. The walls and ceiling are richly decorated with various paintings, grand chandeliers, columns etc. This rivals most of the castles I've ever seen, quite something.

I spent about 4 hours in the Hermitage, with a 30 minute lunch break. I could have spent much more time there but it was almost closing and my feet had had it. I wandered relatively aimlessly through the corridors and the two adjacent and connected buildings that make up the museum. Got lost several times: the entire world had a map except me. And I couldn't make sense of the ones they had up at some points. So some rooms I've seen many times over, others I've undoubtedly missed. Saw some truly amazing western art, spanning several centuries and countries, with many of the biggest names there. Saw some prehistoric and bronze/iron age artwork. Some Russian art and interiors. Roman and Greek art. Middle and Far Eastern art. Egyptian things. Some of the rooms of the museum were very busy, mainly the European art, 16-20th centuries, as these halls house the Rembrandts, Rubens, Manet, Monet, da Vinci, Titiaan etc. Most people were part of a group and so were herded around quite quickly - I'm back in tourist country! I was most amused, as well, by the English couple who were speeding through some of the halls with the world's greatest paintings going "that's not bad" pointing at a Gauguin or Manet or the like.
The highlight for me was the modern art - although I like all the other things as well, I truly take to this, especially the colourful abstract things (sheesh, do I sound like an expert or what?!). The best one here was by Malevich, entitled "Black Square". And that's just what it was, a one foot by one foot black square on a white background. On the wall, in one big room, with nothing else in there except some explanation of what it was. And bizarrely, it worked. I could have quite happily sat there and watched this thing for a few hours. Most of the people who ventured beyond the usual attractions were similarly fascinated by this black square. I think, regardless of what "one thinks" of this, the fact that it moves so many people is what makes it art. Which is and isn't a definition of art, I guess. Next to "art is what the idiot pays for it" (a Dutch saying), my next-best definition of art is... a black square.
I also visited the Peter and Paul Fortress, set on an island in the Neva River. In one of the museums inside, the St. Petersburg Historical Society showed some of the history of the city. In some of the 19th century paintings and sketches, it was possible to see the city Dostoyevsky described in his books, wide streets with horse-drawn carriages, the fashion of the time... How different it all is now! The precise historical meaning of the fortress I forget, but the main reason for visiting is that the cathedral in the fortress (covered in scaffolding, of course!) houses the tombs of various tsars, including Nicolas II and his family. And yes, Anastacia is there too. Sadly there is scaffolding in the chuch too, and the whole thing is a hideous combination of pink and green, which makes it hard to enjoy it. If that's even the right term for it. Still, seeing their names on the tombstones was impressive. Especially since a day earlier, I'd come across what seemed like an oustide mass, right by one of the cathedrals. Strange, the large crowd was holding up lots of pictures of the last tsar and his family. What did give me the creeps a bit was various people in uniform, with a strange red armband on their left arms. No idea what it represents, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was a relatively violent undercurrent of wanting to return to the monarchy in this country.

Also visited Cafe Idiot, where the name alone made me feel right at home. The interior is fairly dark, being half underground, with a mix of furniture including some comfy chairs that are impossible to get out of. I had some food there, and a Bloody Misha. That's a Bloody Masha but, as the menu helpfully revealed, "with balls". Bizarrely the "balls" consisted of sour cream which... something I desperately tried to forget whilst drinking (oh and yes, it was a Bloody Mary but without the Worcester Sauce, which defies the point of a Bloody Mary!). The food is good there, too, so it's a definite recommendation.
The last two night in St. Petersburgy I managed to get tickets for Cosi fan Tutte (Mozart) and Lucia di Lammermoor (Donizetti) at the Mariinsky Theatre. So it was the Kirov Company performing and they lived up to their reputation. The Mozart was great and certainly had moments of excellence. But I'm just not a real Mozart-fan, so I was really looking forward to Donizetti, whom I like better. I assumed that both concerts would start at the same time and, very unscientifically, didn't check this. So when I got to the theatre (yes, in scaffolding too) at 7:45 for the Donizetti I was just in time for the last few bars of the first act! Didn't I say I felt at home in Cafe Idiot? Either way the second and third acts more than made up for it. This is one of "those" performances, where "it" happens. Goosebumps all the way through. The singing was stellar, especially in the sextet closing the second act and -of course- the madness-scene in the final act. The orchestra sumptuous. The staging and especially lighting were truly amazing too, often resulting in scenes that looked like 17th century paintings! In all it was a definite once-of-a-lifetime experience. Multiple eargasms, if you'll pardon the pun, something I didn't think possible.

And as the curtain fell on the stage, so did it fall on my trip. I slowly wandered back through the still-light (wonderful "white nights") streets and along the canals, towards the youth hostel. Tomorrow I am meeting up with someone I met some 8000 km ago, as we happen to be on the same flight, and then it's off to the airport. When you're having lunch, I should be too, on the plane (can't wait!). So many thanks for reading all my bits of drivel, if you did. Expect to be bombarded (a mere 23 rolls) with lots of pictures! For those in Cambridge: pint + curry next week sometime? And everybody else: hope to see you all soon!

I'll leave you with a little gem of something else I've missed: "...and so, as the fluff-ball of time pops out of the navel of destiny, and the nylon underpants of fate ride uncomfortably up the cleft of despair..."
---- Goodbye!

Mark

P.S. Many thanks to all those people who wrote to me! Much appreciated and I know I owe some of you an answer, still. Soon, very soon. And no this isn't a dig at those who didn't write: I know you're all busy people!

P.P.S. Please continue using this e-mail address to contact me, when I get sorted and settled in Cambridge I'll let you have my new one.

P.P.P.S. Helena, Charlotte (and anyone else who's intrigued or interested in the origin of the quote: http://www.g0akh.gothere.uk.com/Index.htm and then to "I'm sorry I haven't a clue"

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Mark Krebs, England, 2002