BootsnAll Travel Network



The Artist and the Dictator.

May 7th, 2009

One of the most prevalent questions encountered so far has been Moscow or St Petersburg, which do you prefer?  As the title of this post alludes to one is based on the premise of beauty and the other power.  One built as a symbol of aspiration to leave the other in the past only for revolution to reach out its cold fingers and re-establish the elder one as the seat of power and control. Basically Moscow is busy and dirty, everyone in a rush to get shit done and money made.

  CooSoSB  CooSoSB

Which do you prefer the subtle intricate grandeur of the Cathedral of Our Savior on Spilled Blood or the gaudy familiarity of St Basils? Read the rest of this entry »

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Monastic wanderings.

May 6th, 2009

Fully admitting that any knowledge of the intricacies of Orthodoxy is a subject beyond any of us, a day trip out to Russia’s religious capital seemed like a good way to form an acquaintance.  Nearly 700 years old the monastery at Sergiev Posad has been a focal point for not just spiritual activity but politics, Peter the Great spent good period of his childhood here, scholarship and even military action which resulted in the white walls surrounding the complex.  Not surprisingly for a branch of religion that places such stock in mystery there are a number of visible symbols to indicate divine protection of the site like the holy water spring that supposedly appeared during a siege by the Polish in 1608, allowing 1500 defenders to withstand a force outnumbering them fifteen to one, and not least the body of the founder Sergius which was the only thing to remain unscathed after the Tatar invasion.

 Chapel over the Well

Rdoc imbibes the holy water.

Both of these would count as the greatest attractions for both visitors like us and also the streams of locals that also pour into the place, mostly bearing containers to fill with the blessed water that still flows out of a fountain erected over the site.  To pay our respects to the Saint we traded the bright sunshine for a very dark, incense filled chapel adorned with murals we presumed to be depicting his life.  Accepting some tapers we joined the queue of old pilgrims and bemused school children and shuffled our way towards the silver trunk containing the remains.  It speaks to the resilience of both the church and the Russian people that their religion prevailed through the extreme persecution during the communist era and that these traditions still hold relevance in peoples daily lives.  I also learned that to cross yourself here it is forehead, chest, right shoulder then left which left me a little befuddled at the moment of offering in front of the attendant monks.  Or maybe it was the shabbily dressed, thin faced man just off to my right working himself into a trance chanting in a high pitched voice and rocking back and forth.

Babushkas soak in the rays.

Not the ones featured in the story below.

On the way out to the gate to go and eat our picnic lunch in the park one of the heavy set babushkas lining a bench decided to scratch herself under her arm.  She did this by lifting up her woolen vest revealing herself to all those innocents walking by.  Needless to say the reflective mood was lost.  This was not even the most uncomfortable moment of the day.  To get out to the town we had to take a local train wooden bench seat and all.  It started to get a little uncomfortable when an older, well mustachioed gentleman sat opposite and proceeded to stare at Arnika.  He turned out to be a Tajik immigrant lathe operator and was nice enough swapping initial pleasantries and explanations but then got awkward as he tried to press home his advantage.   Still, feeling quite sorry for this guy who was sacrificing his dream of one day visiting America (why!?!) to put his sons through university, it was nice the warmth received when it came time to make out farewells.

Exalted Trinity Monastery of St Sergius

A very nice place to visit.

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Sleeping Beauty & Assorted Animal Abuse.

May 6th, 2009

With all the hostel dramas it was quite an effort to force ourselves to get out and explore a little bit and make some use of the day remaining.  A major incentive was the Sunday only market which Ivan informed us was the premier one in the country.  He was right if the product desired was leather jackets, stonewash jeans, bad shoes, frumpy looking female underwear, or fur coats.  An important discovery was that when the stall assistant approaches trying to entice you into a truly appalling leather jacket by saying “mafia” in a hopeful way it is not because he is or thinks you are but that by making such a purchase you could look like a mafioso type.  Tempting. Read the rest of this entry »

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A Welcoming Comrade.

May 5th, 2009

 I had quite mixed feelings about leaving St Petersburg having found that nearly everything about the city exceeded my expectations and also found an atmosphere and scene in the city that I would really love to immerse myself in.  But at the same time the anticipation of delving even further into this fascinating country was pulling me eastwards, not least because tonight was to be the first proper train ride after two weeks of not quites.   After last night’s practise run seeing off Mike and Jeff we headed out one last time around our local favourites of the laundromat bar, Zoom cafe for one last delicious meal, followed by Fidels and Achtung Baby to fill the time until our 1:20am departure for Moscow. Read the rest of this entry »

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Memorial wanderings

May 5th, 2009

  It truly was quite a challenge to even come up with some sort of comprehensive plan to fully explore a city as diverse and interesting as St Petersburg.  Like all the truly great cities history is layered on top of history and new ideas and movements are incorporated or overlaid and the build up becomes a little bewildering to keep your bearings as to what relates to what exactly through time.  The way it has worked out is that kind of naturally everything has worked out into themed days.  One man made this a whole lot easier for our second to last day in the city, this was to be our first real encounter with some of the results of Stalin’s extreme paranoia and prejudice. Read the rest of this entry »

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