Delft

As I left the gold room, I could not resist the chance to use the giant mirror next to the exit door for a Gold-Room Self-Portrait.

As we moved on, we entered a series of dining rooms and drawing rooms, each one dominated by a Delft stove. The giant wood-burning stoves were specially made and ordered to be shipped in at great cost to add to the gilt in impressing people. I knew of Delft as pottery, interesting and beautiful but on a much smaller scale.

When the guide gave the background to the stoves, it sounded remarkable. The stoves were made without doors, no way to put the wood into the stove or burn it. The stoves are giant counterfeits. I need say no more, as I wrote about it in the semi-dark of that evening White Night. The poem I wrote:

DELFT

Catherine the Great, perhaps self-nicknamed so long ago, filled palaces
With collections of various artworks, sculpture, tapestries: everything
She apparently fancied. As gilted as Peterhof, her Winter Castle features
Delft stoves, hand fired in the Netherlands and shipped to her orders,
Floor-to-ceiling heating devices that are valuable collectors’ items.
Most though not all of these wood stoves were made without doors,
No way to add wood, no way to light a fire, no way to use the stove.
In a palace full of gilt, perhaps the greatest symbol of bloated excess
Might be the fanciest stoves of all, placed there just to impress.

Inside the Palace

Inside the Winter Palace, as much as was the case at Peterhof, one finds awesome color everywhere. After your first entrance, you are wound through some passages until you are sent up the grand red staircase as you enter the sumptuous rooms above.

The ability to hear your guides is enhanced in some of these huge museums by the use of headphones, which allow each guest to hear his or her specific guide. As long as a person stays in range of the transmitter, there is a lot to learn and a lot to see. The next post will be in the gold, gilt room at Catherine's Winter Palace.

Second Day in Russia

It had been my thought on our first night in Russia to grab a great sunset photo or two to celebrate and demonstrate the famed White Nights. That went by the boards as the clock turned past midnight light enough to read a newspaper outdoors. No sunset pictures were taken, so we got some sleep and headed for the Winter Palace of Catherine the Great.

This stop did allow interior photos, so after we went through the ornate gates and walked by the brightly-painted exterior, we headed inside. And in coming posts, we will see many sights of a kind of beauty. But it is a tough kind of beauty to appreciate, as it is gilt-covered excess in many ways. Look in on the next post for the details.

A poem about the White Nights:

WHITE NIGHTS

Sunset does come, eventually, in summer in St. Petersburg. A big deal,
Cloud strips accenting the deep oranges and red stretching across the sky,
Starting well past ten, saying good evening to strollers in parks and on streets.
The big production sees the sun disappear around eleven, but it is not final:
At midnight one could read the newspaper outside without eye strain.
Before long, the dusky twilight allows stores to turn on their neon,
Just a touch of light in an otherwise light-enough street, until around one
When it starts working on daylight again. Sunsets are quick on deserts,
Most of which are near the Equator, but White Nights belie the darkness
Nearer the poles, with people loving it until the bill comes due in January.

Cossack Dancing

Our night out in St. Petersburg had been advertised as ethnic and folk dancing. It appeared to be a chance to see some of the things that interest Russian people, and it was. Just before the show started, one of our traveling party yawned. I asked whether the person was going to manage not to fall asleep. The the music started, the dancing began, and in five minutes time I leaned over and said, "You won't have any trouble staying awake for this!"

About as high energy as anything I have seen, this show was all a troupe of Cossack dancers who put every ounce of energy they had into each number. Nothing but fun and a real treat for all of us who came from the cruise ship. These dancers also sold souvenirs at intermission and posed for pictures before and after the performance. Worth every dollar or ruble we spent!

Mosaic Interiors

Truly awe-inspiring and breathtaking, the many mosaics inside the Church on Spilled Blood would provide beautiful wall hangings or holiday cards which could be seen in every direction. I knew, of course, that the officially-atheist Soviet Union did allow some cathedrals and churches to stand during their seven decades of power, but I hardly expected the powerful beauty that I saw in this edifice.

A lengthy visit to St. Petersburg was ending with a bus ride back to the cruise ship. But for the first time in our ten cruises, we were not weighing anchor to move on. We had an overnight at the dock and another tour the next day, which meant we were going out for the evening, with tickets for a folk dance exhibition. Pictures in the next post.

Church on Spilled Blood

In looking over the plans for our tour, the highlight of the afternoon was a famous Church which I thought was the "Church OF Spilled Blood," as I knew it was a memorial built on the site of the assassination of a Czar. But I realized later that the name was the "Church ON Spilled Blood," making that memorial all the more powerful. The exact spot of the bloodshed is marked inside the ornately beautiful cathedral.

While the colorful exterior is a dream for a photographer, the interiors are also available, in this case for the smaller $3 fee. Here we see the main dome from the inside as well as the outside view. More interior views in the next post.

Fun at the Fountains

While the photos in the previous two posts showed the vista of the main fountains at Peterhof, the grounds are filled with smaller fountains and even some fun fountains. For example, there are various 'surprise' fountains, where guests could be walking along and a sudden unlucky burst of water would spray them. Our guide gave up the secret, pointing out the small outbuilding where an operator would be watching, ready to press a button to soak a person. I did like the tiny spray from the red blossom seen here.

We were present on a Friday in July, and the grounds were crowded with tourists and with several wedding parties, out for locations for their couple pictures. Several actors and actresses were also on hand to add to the festive air. When we had enjoyed a lunch at Peterhof, we were back on the bus and ready to see something a lot more serious. That will be seen in the next post.

Fountains of Gold

Suffice it to say that the gardens of Peterhof are blessed with water, rife with fountains, and nearly breathtaking in their beauty. Many manicured gardens featuring brightly-colored flowers and shrubbery go unnoticed at times as the eye is drawn to the movement of the fountains and the ear is attracted by the sound of flowing water.

We were fortunate in the timing that started us indoors, along with everyone else, and let us out on the major crossing balcony seen in these pictures. We emerged to see a crowd of people watching quiet, inactive fountains. Just as we got prepared for it, the turn of the hour started the flow and we had seen the opening of the fountains. It was a wonderful awakening.

Peterhof

We had been warned aboard ship that in Russia, photography is permitted in many more locations than some cities, but that a permit would be required. Either a $3 or a $6 fee -- payable in American dollars -- would earn the right to take photos including flash in most locations. For no discernible reason, this was not true at Peterhof. The awesome fountains and beautiful gardens were photographable at no charge; no photos were allowed indoors.

So I looked and saw and did not photograph. The feeling was to be repeated on the next day, when photography was allowed, so I will reserve my feelings until then. Meanwhile, we will look at the wonderful fountains of Peterhof, with one example seen here, and more to come in the next post.

Not Petrograd Nor Leningrad

A short story I used to teach in high school literature said that a certain town had no name, or several names, which is the same thing. A deep thought and undoubtedly a true thought, with this interesting city a prime example. Changing from one name to another through Petrograd and Leningrad and on to St. Petersburg, this astounding chance to visit Russia was highly interesting and at time breathtakingly beautiful.

Several Churches and Cathedrals have survived the officially atheist Soviet Union, and some of them have been refurbished and renovated in this city. But the seventy years of Soviet rule are virtually unseen, unmentioned. Only one time did we see the hammer and sickle and looking closely you will see it is built in to a building. If this building is demolished or refurbished, all sign of the seven decades will be gone. With the Tsarist era preceding the Soviet era, modern Russia as seen in St. Petersburg is rootless. No Communist roots, no Tsarist roots, no past to hold to. Every country and its people should have its equivalent of Washington and Jefferson and Lincoln. I learned that to be the strength of the monarchy in the United Kingdom, of course. They have William and Henry V and Elizabeth I and so many others. What do the Russians have? I grew up hating and fearing Communism, too, so I understand that era cannot be mined for much of value. But the feeling I had of the people's intellectual and economic and patriotic rootlessness is still a shame.

A look at Peter the Great's Palace -- one of them -- in the next post.