Saint Petersburg

Most my favorite authors and many books that I enjoy all take place in Saint Petersburg. I wasn’t going to pass-up a trip to the former city of Leningrad while being in Russia. When plans fell through my mom’s Russian family booked us a fancy hotel in the center of Saint Petes. In addition they got us plane tickets on a Russian commuter plane that would take us one hour and ten minutes from Moscow to Saint Petersburg. I wasn’t excited to get on another plane, but after popping a xanax I didn’t mind taking a bus into the middle of the airport to load into a smaller plane through stairs. When we took off the whole think shook and I fell asleep. Thank god for medication. As soon as we checked into our hotel we went to find food. I suggested the Idiot Café (created after Dostoevsky’s novel- The Idiot) and we found it after a few circles through town. We had probably one of the best meals in Russia yet. I had potato filled pliminy with wild mushroom sauce. My mom had, and I tasted, fried potatoes and wild forest mushrooms. WE had huge glasses of beer and complimentary free vodka shots (we toasted to Palina and such a cool person she is). After feeling warm and fuzzy we hit the city streets.

We circled streets more- lost (the vodka in our blood didn’t help) looking for Nabokov’s house/museum. I finally found it (right behind our hotel) and we got tickets. The museums all have two ticket prices: for Russians and foreigners. My mom does a good job as coming off as Russian- they give her the Russian price and me the student price. My poor Pop doesn’t pass and they charge him the American price. I think it is the baggy pants and American brewery shirts. Once we got into Nabokov’s house (it is three stories but only one was open to public) I felt inspired by his brilliance. It was amazing to see his butterfly collections, typewriter, and pencils. After visiting his house I found a bookstore and bought Lolita (one of my all time favorite novels) in Russian. I can’t read it, but it feels special to have one of my favorite novels in the original language of its author. Afterwards we hit the streets went to a Russian bakery, had a beer in the street, and walked around the Church of spilled blood. Saint Petersburg has so many more tourists than Moscow. The dress is more casual, but the cigarette smoking seemed intensified. It reminds me a lot of Paris. The old buildings make me close my eyes and try to imagine the stories and history behind them. There is a lot of graffiti and crumbling down buildings. I learn the Russian word for dick thanks to the graffiti. My younger cousin somehow- he is my mom’s cousin’s son- told us Saint Petersburg is beautiful but a sad city. He warned us before coming that the city has a sad energy surrounding it because of everything it has gone through during the war times. He claims there is bad karma here. I feel the sadness under the layers of tourists and cigarette smoke. After the first day I feel more connected to Moscow (probably because of my family) but enjoyed St. Petes.






Today we had a lazy morning and left via metro, then bus to the outskirts of Saint Petersburg for some much needed nature. We made our way out to Pavlova Park and forest. It took almost one hour and a half, but I enjoyed watching the countryside and imagining the battles fought on this land. Once in the park we enjoyed some much needed nature. We walked through small trails, hunted for mushrooms (no luck) and watched the fall colors change on the trees. It rained off and on through the day- bringing less people out and more beauty. Locals walked their dogs through the small trails and tourists took horse drawn carriages through the more traveled paths. We took small trails into the woods and were the only ones at moments. We had two men approach us in the woods and said- “I know you are from here because you don’t have a bottle of something in your hands.” We find out one of the guys is the theatre technician for the Matrinsky ballet. We ask him if he is hunting for mushrooms and he replies that he is only here to drink. Russians sure like their alcohol. The park is beautiful- birch trees, linden trees, and a beer garden. There are lots of people taking wedding pictures and wedding parties drinking vodka and singing in the park. When we were finding our way out of the park we see a couple walk off the path into the forest(not far off). The man drops his pants and while peeing on a tree his partner (wearing stiletto heels in the woods) slides down an embankment and falls flat on her face. She lies silently in the mud for a moment and then says “Nichevo Strashnavo.” Which translates to “Nothing Scary,” and gets up. Only in Russia will you see women in stilettos falling in the woods. We joked that the bus will now charge her the higher rate- they have a regular rate and a higher rate if your clothes are dirty. We make our way back to Saint Petersburg on the train and then metro. We buy blueberries and salad from a babushka on the street and then have a delicious dinner in the hotel. I tried studying the Russian alphabet and have high hopes of learning more and more of the language that connects me to my heritage.