Saorrento

Six weeks, seven countries and twelve cities later, our tour to Russia the long way round has finally drawn to a close. It has been the most incredible experience and I am very glad to say there isn’t any one thing that stands out well beyond the others, there were so many magical moments of our trip: seeing snow and wild Elk in Golden Colorado and dining out with Jon and Julie who we both had a fantastic time with; the neon extravaganza of both Las Vegas and Times Square in New York City; the climb to the observation deck of the Empire State Building; seeing Phantom of the Opera on Broadway; my first rail trip in England going out to Bristol and the Eurostar voyage to Belgium; pub crawls and luxury dining in Belgium; hiking through the snow in St Petersburg to various World War II monuments; getting up close to Soviet and German war machines and other various relics of the Cold War at a number of Museum exhibits; travelling from St Petersburg to Moscow by second class rail, with snowy landscapes out the window; cruising down the Rhine river in Frankfurt past the many vineyards, medieval styled castles and villages. These are just a few of the highlights, simply put; ‘The Long Way to Russia’ has been an EPIC adventure!

What’s next? Well this trip has wet our appetites for so much more travel; I personally would love to see a great deal more of Colorado during the ski season as well as re-visit Frankfurt and spend time touring about Germany. Things like a Route 66 road trip in the United States, a month long stay in Germany and other Euro Road trips are just some of the ideas buzzing through my head for the near future.

Of course then there are also new exotic locations such as the likes of Egypt, Antarctica and Dubai which are pretty high up on the list of new places too. So if nothing else, WATCH THIS SPACE!

Frankfurt has been a breath of fresh air after our 11 day tour of Russia. Don’t get me wrong, I very much enjoyed my time in both St Petersburg and Moscow; I could spend a great deal longer further experiencing the history and culture of Russia, as well as the approaching minus degree Celsius temperatures, however, for a first time visit, a change of pace was definitely welcomed after the 11th day. Little things like having to carry your passport around you at all times whilst in Russia slowly became more like having a ball and chain around your foot. The heightened sense of alert you had to maintain; watching out for pickpockets, and being prepared to mime what you are after to non-English speaking people became quite exhausting to think of (though I must stress we did not see or experience any pick pocketing). It was nice to finally be rid of all these things and just relax a little.

We checked into our hotel just after 5.00pm. Immediately after checking-in we looked up the tours on offer at Green Line Tours conveniently located across the road from the Savoy Hotel where we were staying. The tour group boasted many tours ranging from full day excursions to brief half day ones held in the afternoon. Tours featured river cruises, wine tasting, tours of gothic castles and other city based trips. Given that Tuesday was now next to gone and we were due to leave for the airport at 7.30pm on the Thursday, Michelle and I booked a day tour going from 10am-7.30pm for the following day and a 2hr city tour for the Thursday morning. With our tours booked and the sun well and truly gone there was little more to do than to have dinner, finding an Irish Pub only three doors down from our hotel. We both felt like we were eating dinner at midnight and although it was only 8pm in Frankfurt we kind of were since our bodies were still on Moscow time, some four hours ahead of Frankfurt.

The next morning we headed straight out for the tour shop across the road to begin our day tour of the Rhine River. The Rhine is one of several prominent rivers running through Frankfurt. This particular river system is host to some magnificent gothic styled castles and a number of vineyards running parallel either side of the river. Our tour included a guided coach tour to the Rhine where we then boarded a riverboat making our way up the Rhine. The tour also included a restaurant lunch and wine tasting.

Due to the approaching off-season, where even the Germans try to flee the country during the winter months, our tour group was relatively small consisting of about four different country groups, 11 people in total. Amongst them were four Aussies, Michelle and myself, along with an elderly couple from Melbourne. A very nice couple Michelle and I befriended from the island of Samoa, two couples from Dubai which were also a delight to talk to and last but not least a middle-aged business man who could only speak Portuguese.

Unfortunately for him, no one else on the tour spoke Portuguese, including the tour guide. During lunch, which we had before the river cruise, the Portuguese man downed four glasses of Red wine within thirty minutes. The rest of our group sat back in amusement, finally all agreeing that since he can’t understand a word of English he may as well just sit back and enjoy himself. On the river cruise our tour group was joined by three other tour groups, where the Portuguese found some fellow people he could communicate with. In celebration of his new found comrades he had two stines (1ltr mugs) of beer. Needless to say when it came to the wine tasting at the end of the evening he had his head buried between his legs not even capable of facing the sample of wine before him.

The Rhine looked even better than advertised on the brochures. The water was a dark blue and the hilly landscape on either side was full of vines ripe with fruit. Perched every couple of miles along the hillside were castles, each and every one unique with its own splendor design. Also along either side of the river were bustling rail lines with both electric passenger trains and diesel powered cargo trains shunting through into the hillside tunnels and out into and amongst the small near-medieval styled villages at the base of the escarpment.

The only thing amiss with the day was the level of foggy haze between the river boat and hill side didn’t play too nicely with photography, with each and every snap taken requiring dramatic enhancement through Photoshop.

After the Rhine river cruise which ran its course of two hours we made our way to the bus which took us to our final stop; wine tasting. I had been good all day, saving myself for the tasting, hoping to go back for seconds and even thirds, sampling the whole of the vineyard. Unfortunately this was not to be.

I can tell you right now, my number one purchase for the next adventure overseas is going to be a compact laptop. I am currently somewhat squashed up, having my chair back as far as it can go to compensate for the passenger in front who has put their chair back – I can only just get the laptop screen upright and just millimeters off having to suck in my stomach to fit the laptop infront of me. The Singapore Air flight from Frankfurt to Singapore whom yours truly is currently on has so far been pretty comfortable. Almost limitless video on demand covering a pretty broad selection of TV shows and movies. The service is very good, though with everyone else on this flight asleep but me it makes it very easy for the hostess’s to keep up with the regular scotch n’ coke requests. The TV panel in the chair is pretty impressive; it comes with Video in ports to plug your laptop video feed into it and use it as another screen, there is also usb, cat-5 and 240 volt power on the armrest. Though unfortunately the power on the armrests don’t work on most of the chairs, yes, the kind hostess even checked the empty seats for me. All I will say is the future of flying is looking pretty cool! Where was I?
Yes, typically on wine tours and particularly tastings that I have done in the past, one approaches the tasting bench and points at particular bottles of wine and the server will pour a quarter glass for your evaluation. If you’re lucky, the server behind the bar will know their wines and suggest a specific order to sample them in and provide a brief summary on the life of the grape you are currently tasting. Although the wine sampling in this particular instance was carried out by a German woman who definitely knew her wines the wine portions themselves were not that generous, measuring to just over a quarter of a shot glass each, with one sampling of each wine per person.

I found the wine itself to be mediocre. Although I do not question that the quality to be far superior to that of Australian wine (the host assured us that her wine had no added sugar, which I learned is responsible for the nasty headaches that some people (fortunately not me) get from their third or fourth glass) my Australian pallet just did not appreciate it fully and I found the wines on the most part either too bland or too naturally sweet, there was no middle ground. One wine did impress me however; although it tasted more like an alcoholic fruit drink than wine. It was more in the genesis of it that impressed. The wine called ‘Ice Wine’ founded in Germany exists now in Germany, Canada, New Zealand (and two other places I cannot recall). What is particularly unique about this wine is how it is produced. On the first frosty winters morning of the season where the temperature is a perfect minus seven degrees Celcius, the grapes are harvested. During this temperature the grapes are frosted over by a thin layer of Ice. The harvesting process for this particular wine is done by hand. At the very same time the grapes are picked in the dead calm of night well before sunrise the barrels of grapes are rushed down the slope of the vineyard into the refinery where the grapes, still in their frosted state are crushed. In this state only pure grape juice is processed. To put it another way, it takes 12kilograms of grape to make an ordinary bottle of wine, for Ice Wine however, since all you get from a grape is just a drop or two of pure grape juice, 80 kilograms of grapes are required to make a bottle. Once the morning breaks it is all over, that is the Ice Wine harvest for the year. An entire years vintage of Ice wine harvested in just one night. When the morning sun hits the vines, the icy layer around the grape will melt away turning it back into just an ordinary grape for what in comparison is just ordinary wine. This makes the wine very unique, and the fact that it also has a potentially unlimited shelf life (requires re-corking every 20 years), it is a collectors dream.

So the tasting part was a bit of a letdown but I did learn a lot about the wine process and keeping wines. Such as, white wines once open, provided that they are refrigerated will last for two or three weeks. If storing wines, ensure that you either store the bottle with the nose down (so the cork is always completely submerged) or if laying on its side make sure you rotate the bottle 180 degrees every six months (something I plan to do as soon as I get home) and obviously, keep out of direct sunlight or keep in a wine fridge.

By the time the wine tasting was over our Portuguese friend had stumbled outside for some fresh air. The whole way home on the coach he was passed out in the front seat.

The next day we did a city bus tour around Frankfurt. The city itself is rather impressive, like most European cities (although somewhat self inflicted) it too suffered its fair share of damage during World War II. Even back then Frankfurt was considered the financial capital of Europe. Today Frankfurt is a dazzling clash of both modern and historic architecture side by side. The city itself, from what I observed at least is almost as popular for its adult shops and strip clubs as it is for its many wondrous cathedrals. Although the strip clubs that I observed seemed to be all located on one street which makes them far easier to avoid than the many cathedrals around the area. I had to laugh at one of them though, the location of the most prominent of strip clubs the ‘Dolly Buster Center‘ I thought was rather apt; for right next door to it was McDonalds. So children, line up here for your ‘happy meal’ while your parents go for their ‘happy moment’ in the building next door!

In less than an hour of being in Frankfurt walking around the streets I fell in love with the place. I can’t pin point exactly what it is that captivated me, I believe it to be more a combination of things; the mish-mash of classical and modern architecture, a electric-tram system running through the city, the Rhine River just on the other side extending outwards to gothic style castles and quaint medieval style villages. This city has it all, all within walking distance or a brief drive. I definitely want to come back to Frankfurt and take a lot more time exploring what this city has to offer.

So far Moscow has been equally as welcoming as its counterpart to the north, St Petersburg. The following morning after our arrival the night before we awoke early, today was going to be a long day; we had two tours booked. First was a metro tour, which involved the guide meeting us at our hotel and then walking from our hotel to the closest metro station and showing us about various station stops helping us become familiar with the key transport of the city. Later that evening the same tour guide will take us on a night city tour of Moscow. We opted to do this as we both figured it would be the safest environment to take photos at night. From prior experience after doing a single tour both Michelle and I were usually quite buggered in the evening, suddenly the idea of doing two tours in a single day didn’t seem like such a great idea.

However before all that was breakfast. It has to be said, it is healthy for me to be on holiday, be it a work trip to Sydney or a holiday abroad, these are the times I have the healthiest breakfasts. First course; fried tomato with herbs, egg, sausage, perhaps some hash browns and baked beans with some freshly squeezed orange juice. Second course; a bowl of assorted fruits including apricot, pair, banana with strawberry yoghurt drizzled on top, and on occasion to finish it off a cup of coffee. This usually sees me through usually till early afternoon if not till lunch time.

Since St Petersburg, one thing Michelle and I have now realized is that in some sense we over-did the tour bookings. At the time we had read a lot of horror stories about tourists getting about in Russia, so for us, the tours were a ‘worst case scenario’ contingency, worst came to worst we would at least have safe guided tours. What has actually happened is that during our free times we’re happily going off on our own and visiting museums by ourselves and seeing the sites without feeling the need for a guide at all, so when it came to our first two tours in Moscow, we both looked at them purely for their instrumental purposes. Tour one, for helping us acquire a 20 pass metro card (for about 300 rubles, approx AUD$10), and tour two for its ‘wheels’ in getting about all the popular night time photo sights. All the tour guide talk in between (the bits we chose to tune in for, the keyword ‘soviet’ got my attention every time) was just icing on the cake.

The metro passes we acquired in the morning tour I am proud to say have had a significant workout since. The metro system in Moscow in many respects is similar to London’s but with a few advantages; one, unlike most other city rails there are no zones, all of Moscow metro is one zone, London has about 7. Secondly, the underground stations are like museums themselves; some are pre-World War II and others post, all uniquely decorated in marble, some with large statues of solders in memory of battles previously fought, others celebrating various trades and traditions unique to Russia. All were spotless and well maintained. The metro lines themselves were mighty efficient with trains coming every two minutes, and during peak between every 30 seconds to a minute apart. Even with all the metro signs written in Russian, I still believe this metro system to be the easiest I have ever been on.

After our morning tour of the metro system our guide dropped us off in Red Square. Surrounding Red Square were a huge assortment of souvenir style markets, each tent selling various Soviet and Russian knick knacks. Feeling quite proud that we did the majority of our shopping already in St Petersburg (the cheaper of the two capitals; Moscow is the third most expensive city in the world) we decided to have a brief look to see what the richer city had to offer. To our great disappointment we quickly discovered that we had been had in St Petersburg with the exact same items on sale in Moscow for 300 rubles cheaper. I’ve since ascertained, between a larger population and many more souvenir shops to compete with competition have brought down the prices to a low. So there’s a travelling tip for you, do your entire souvenir shopping in Moscow.

A few days later we caught the metro all the way out to Victory Park, a monumental museum to the Soviet victory in the Great Patriotic War (this being the war against Nazi Germany in World War II). Proudly featured at the main entrance of the museum lies an obelisk, the height of which is exactly 141,8 meters; 10 cm for every day of the War. The war monument in its entirety; the museum featuring an array of exhibits from fine art to the tools of war, including a collection in the thousands of ‘Iron Cross’s’ worn by Nazi troops to the outdoor grounds featuring Soviet and Nazi armourments in the form of Tanks, Helicopters and Fixed-Wing crafts was all very proudly presented and when one looks back through the history and the origin of the Patriotic War particularly along the Eastern Front you can see why Russia is so proud; in the midst of near annihilation, the Soviet Union came out on top.

It almost makes me regret that I was not an observer of those times (yes, I chose my words very carefully there), the politics between governments, the double-sided deals between such great powers. It has been fantastic to say that I am here in Russia right now, seeing what is left, what remains of what many would undoubtedly exclaim as an end of an era and tracing back the origins to the Great Patriotic War to the very beginning.

It On June 22, 1941, Germany broke its non-aggression pact with the USSR and began an invasion. According to the Fuhrer Adolf Hitler’s own autobiography ‘Mein Kampf’ the war was out of necessity, acquiring new territory for German settlement in Eastern Europe. He envisaged settling Germans there as a master race, while deporting most of the inhabitants to Siberia and using the remainder as slave labor.
Stalin, realizing that the non-aggression pact wouldn’t last forever proceeded to mass develop and ready legions of tanks and infantry, only he didn’t expect Germany to break the pact so soon, needless to say, the Soviet Union was somewhat prepared to defend the Mother land.

The Soviet army on the eve of the German attack had significant power, on paper. On June 22, 1941 the Red Army and Navy had over 4.6 million people, 23,000 tanks, 18.700 planes, 910 ships and cutters.

The Soviets were prepared for winter warfare and on December 5, 1941 reinforcements from Siberia attacked the German lines around Moscow, supported by new T-34 tanks and Katyusha rocket launchers. The exhausted and freezing Germans were routed and driven back between 100 and 250 km (60 to 150 miles) by 7 January 1942.

The Germans introduced forced labor across the occupied territories of the USSR. A working day was 14-16hrs long. The population was not supplied with clothing, shoes or the means to stay clean. The bread ration was 200-300 grams per day. But these official food rations often were violated. Over 4.1 million people died of starvation, infectious diseases, hard work and lack of medical supplies.

Ultimately, bit by bit, like a game of Chess between these two Superpowers, the Red Army forces knocked down the pawns in its path and in the years ahead and won back the Mother land, forcing the Germans to retreat further and further back. Finally, upon the assault on Berlin where the Fuhrer himself admitting defeat took his own life, the war was one. The city’s defenders finally surrendered on 2 May. However, fighting continued to the north-west, west and south-west of the city until the end of the war in Europe on 8 May as German units fought westward so that they could surrender to the Western Allies rather than to the Soviets.





Russia has been an eye opener; never before have I stood in streets with such history, visited museums with such fresh ‘larger than life’ monuments of an era only foretold to me (and people of my generation) from Hollywood films and (for those fortunate by their Grandparents, sitting on their knee and be told stories of a lifestyle which today many of us take for granted.

The capture of Leningrad was one of three strategic goals in Hitler’s initial plan, codenamed Operation Barbarossa, for invading and conquering the Soviet Union. Hitler’s strategy was motivated by Leningrad’s political status as the former capital of Russia and the symbolic capital of the Russian Revolution, its military importance as a main base of the Soviet Baltic Fleet and its industrial strength, housing numerous arms factories.

On October 29, 1966 a monument to the Road of Life was erected. Entitled ‘Broken Ring,’ this monument pays tribute to the many lives broken by the blockade.

Daily forecast: Max 3 degrees, Min 0 degrees

The amount of walking the day before in the near zero degrees had started to pay its toll, Michelle and I were less than energetic to get out of bed for what was to be our last guided tour in St Petersburg; exploring Yusupov‘s Palace. Finally, after summoning what little motivation we had left we made it down stairs into the lobby where our tour guide was already waiting for us.

“I hope you brought your umbrella!” she said greeting us, both Michelle and I looked blankly back at her, still waking up, and our bodies not eager to return outside into the cold.

I then recalled the forecast that I read from the night before; maximum of three degrees, and a minimum of zero with a chance of showers.

She then continued “It has been snowing all morning”.

Hearing those very words I suddenly snapped out of my fatigued phase and my face lit right up. We then proceeded out to the street where our driver was waiting. Opening A gentle gust of snow filled breeze blew into our faces greeting us as we exited through the hotel doors.

Our guide ran straight ahead to get into the car as if trying to evade a torrential down pour of heavy rain, but it wasn’t, it was snow! From her eyes and those of any local bystander we must of looked ridiculous, we were in complete awe, observing everything the snow had touched, taking photos of each other and of the canal in front of us. Eventually we made it to the car and began our tour.

Almost every word from start to end of the tour was white noise for me; I was too captivated by the view outside. The entire cityscape seemed to transform, what was a cold dull-looking post Soviet city (which despite the gloomy description I loved) was now a white, almost happier looking city (which I loved even more). There was no doubt about it, St Petersburg was built for the snow, and everything about it took on a happier transformation. I couldn’t help to think how fortunate we were, although various internet sources reported that the first snow for Russia is usually expected by mid October (hence my insistence on touring Russia at the end of our trip), our travel guide a few days ago dimmed that hope saying that it usually doesn’t snow until January/February.

We arrived at Yusupov‘s Palace, located across from the grand bay that cut through the very heart of St Petersburg. Entering the palace I glanced back over my shoulder taking in one final look of the snow falling outside as it was more than likely the snow would of melted away by the time our four hour tour was completed.

The palace itself was very impressive, each room carefully restored back to its original glory – the palace boasted a number of drawing rooms and lounge areas, each decorated in a unique colour scheme, usually a blue, red, yellow and green room. The floors were paved with only the highest quality marble and wood finishing’s, the plaster work on the ceilings easily rivaled those of European castles I had previously seen.

Interestingly though, more important than the value of a material was the perceived value of the end result. Although there were a number of extremely intricate designs that boasted genuine gold and genuine oak materials, there were equally a number of design features mimicking particular materials which ultimately were more expensive to produce than their genuine counterpart. Examples of this were the marble pillars in one of the guest lounges; the room although square in design had pillars placed in a circular fashion giving the room a cylindrical illusion. The marble pillars, almost sky-blue in colour were in reality nothing more than the result of an acrylic process. Although they looked real, they clearly were not as the colour was not a natural marble colour. Yet, despite the fact that the pillars are fake, they are worth more than if they were cut out of genuine marble. Another example being the wood carvings; a lot of the embossed carvings in the wood were in fact simply plaster mouldings stained to look like oak and then glued onto the wooden piece, be it a door or wall feature. Value didn’t seem to be a case of what materials were used rather what the end result looked like. Similarly the chandeliers, although a fair few of them were genuine gold and crystal, a number of ‘gold looking’ ones were in fact nothing more than paper mache painted gold.

No matter how incredible each room we passed through looked I always gave glance to the windows first determining whether or not it was still snowing. I felt like a kid on excursion waiting for the recess siren to sound so I could go out and kick a footy. The only difference was I was paying for this class.

Class ended two hours earlier than expected, partially because being the start of the off season the palace wasn’t nearly as busy as what it usually was so we had no waiting times to enter the individual rooms and partially (not from our guides lack of asking), we (especially me) simply had no questions for her.

We collected our coats from the dry room and started pondering what we should do now. Michelle suggested visiting the statue of Lenin that we had passed in the transport that picked us up from the airport the day we arrived. Fortunately, although a good thirty minutes out of St Petersburg, both our driver and guide take that direction home, so we went along for the drive as far as the statue of Lenin, less than a couple of kilometers from the Broken Ring monument where the 1941 Leningrad Blockade took place.

The three of us parted company with our driver, our guide supervising our metro ticket purchase back to St Petersburg central before leaving us in the wilderness and then we were on our own. We raced back upstairs from the metro underground to street level which had a good few centimeters of snow on the paths with it still snowing and headed straight for the Lenin monument. It is funny to imagine that less than six months earlier we were in the tropical heat of Vietnam taking vodka shots from a water bottle in front of a Lenin statue we found and now, in the midst of a Siberian snowfall, in front of a larger than life statue of Lenin in RUSSIA. Unfortunately this time we didn’t have any vodka, more so to just keep ourselves warm than to toast Lenin. For reasons I have yet to fathom, the Vodka here is a lot smoother to drink than the crushed-ants-tasting spirit we are familiar with in Australia.

After sliding about in the snow, taking numerous amounts of photos and pegging snow-balls at each other in less than zero degree weather, whilst snowing, we began walking towards a obelisk looking structure in the distance, which our guide had informed us was the Broken Ring monument.

The Broken Ring monument was massive. It was the center feature of an even larger multi-lane roundabout, clearly marking the entrance into St Petersburg. Beyond the monument looking outward away from St Petes was a vast landscape of snowcapped trees and valleys. In August 1941, some 68 years earlier, all railway lines to Leningrad had been severed, and the city was encircled on land by Finnish armies to the north pressing onto the very spot we stood and German troops to the south attempting to invade through Stalingrad.

None of this, neither the Lenin statue nor the Broken Ring monument would have looked anywhere as impressive without the snow blasting the statues from the side as it currently was. We wandered around for probably close to an hour before realizing that we were slowly losing sensation in our feet and in our hands. Stopping at a pizza hut store on the way back to the metro we warmed ourselves back up both agreeing that this experience bet all three guided tours hands down. This was the real Russia both of us had been looking for.

On 1 May, 1703 (Russian calendar), during the Great Northern War, Peter the Great captured the Swedish fortress of Nyenskans on the Neva river in Ingria. A few weeks later, on 27 May, 1703 (May 16, Old Style), lower on the river, on Zayachy (Hare) Island, three miles (5 km) inland from the gulf, he laid down the Peter and Paul Fortress, which became the first brick and stone building of the new city. He named the city after his patron saint, Saint Peter, the apostle. The original name was meant to sound like Dutch due to Peter’s obsession with the Dutch culture.[7] The city was built by conscripted serfs from all over Russia and also by Swedish prisoners of war[8] under the supervision of Alexander Menshikov and later became the centre of Saint Petersburg Governorate. Peter moved the capital from Moscow to Saint Petersburg in 1712, before the Treaty of Nystad of 1721 ended the war.

We arrived at St Petersberg just after midday on the Friday. Michelle and I were both excited and nervous at the same time. We were excited as we had finally made it to Russia; a place both of us had wanted to explore for so many years. Nervous, because we were not sure how easy it was going to be adapting to probably the vastest of European cultures. We hadn’t quite done any near enough Russian language study as we had originally planned, and various travel reviewers had noted their frustration at the lack of English signs and English speaking residents. You can imagine our relief upon entering the airport terminal from the plane when we saw translated airport signs in English (that was more than we got when in Brussels).

We collected our bags and headed to the exit where our driver was waiting for us, holding up a sign with both our names on it and so began our 40 minute drive to St Petersburg city.

After I was taken by the sight of the roads, I had expected everyone to be driving around in rather small cars as seen in the 1995 film James Bond Goldeneye, to my surprise the traffic didn’t seem that indifferent from any other country I had visited so far. In addition we passed a number of car dealerships leaving the airport; Ford, Volvo, Toyota, Land Rover and BMW all had large car yards prominently placed on the side of the motorway. I sat back thinking this wasn’t quite the Russia I was expecting.

We arrived at the hotel, exiting the car we were instantly greeted with the dry coldness of Russia, vapor was drifting from our nose and mouths as if we had been smoking. Our hotel was located just off Nevsky Prospect, one of the main streets in St Petersburg, and right across the road to one of several canals which St Pete’s is famous for. In total St Petersburg has over 70 canals, with over 500 bridges connecting them all up. The largest of these bridges located in the main square is over 90 meters wide; you wouldn’t know it was a bridge if someone didn’t tell you so. Essentially, St Petersburg is a collection of islands, 42 in total.

The check-in process was longer than previous experiences mainly due to the registration process all visitors must undertake when they arrive into Russia. Visitors that stay at a hotel simply hand their passport over to reception and the staff takes care of the registration. On the other hand If you were staying with family or friends you have up to three days to make your way to the registration office in the city and register yourself there. The registration papers that are created must be kept with your passport until you leave Russia. In addition, your passport must remain on you at all times in case the authorities want to check your credentials. Unfortunately our check-in process wasn’t helped by the fact that the registration system was down so we headed up to our room to settle in while reception worked on our passports.

Our room, like the one at Monte Carlo in Vegas was located right down the end of the hallway, well out of wireless range unfortunately. The room itself was quite spacious, especially compared to the hotel room in Brussels. Aside from not having a fridge (which was fixed by placing all liquids right up against the window at night, a trick I learnt from skiing in Melbourne a few years back) the only other item which was rendered useless was the TV since everything was in Russian.

After settling in we finally got rugged up in our warm clothes and headed back to reception to check on our passports. I was glad that lugging around my heavy coat through the United States and Europe had finally been justified. As it turned out our registration papers were still not ready, reluctantly, at the receptionists suggestion we took our passports anyway (it’s better than nothing) and headed out for a brief walk around the suburb. It was cold, but the scenery was so incredible that the cold didn’t matter. Walking down the main street Nevsky Prospect with the tall traditional looking Russian buildings running down either side of the street was an experience neither of us had ever felt before. The only thing that was missing was the Soviet icons placed on the buildings and flags flying of the railings and you would believe you were back in the Soviet era, the street and the city itself in some respects just had a timeless feel to it. The buildings had that depressing cold-war look, having witnessed so much history and tragic events, but they were beautiful at the same time.

Not wanting to be questioned about our lack of papers our afternoon walk was brief making our way back to the hotel before nightfall.

The next morning with our registered passports in hand we were greeted by our tour guide who was to be our guide for our St Petersburg stay for the various tours we had booked. Our first tour was a generalized city tour, the perfect way to become familiar with a new city.

We visited many interesting sites along this tour including the Winter Palace of the Tzars, which is now the Hermiage Museum), the gold-domed St Isaac’s Cathedral and many other magnificent churches, mansions and tree lined canals.

St Isaac’s Cathedral, popularly known for its gold-domed top was quite an impressive site to see but like so many other buildings in St Petersburg shared its own piece of history. During the bombing runs the Nazis did over St Petersburg, the Soviets painted the golden domes of the Cathedral, along with any other buildings boasting gold domes and trimmings in a grey indistinguishable colour making it difficult to spot targets from the air.

Our tour continued on to visit the Church of the Savior on Spilt Blood. The interiors of this cathedral were breath taking, featuring over 7000 square meters of religious mosaics depicting the reign of Jesus Christ. The site of the church also marked the location of the murder of social reformer Alexander II in 1881.

Inside, an elaborate shrine was constructed on the exact place of Alexander’s death. Amid such rich decoration, the simple cobblestones on which the tsar’s blood was spilled and which are exposed in the floor of the shrine provide a striking contrast.

In the aftermath of the Russian Revolution, the church was ransacked and looted, badly damaging its interior. The Soviet government closed the church in the early 1930s. During the Second World War when many people were starving due to the Siege of St Petersburg (known then as Leningrad) by hostile Nazi German military forces, the church was used as a temporary storage site for the corpses of those who died both in combat and of starvation and illness. It suffered significant damage. After the war, it was used as a warehouse for vegetables, leading to the sardonic name of Savior on Potatoes.

In July 1970, management of the Church passed to Saint Isaac’s Cathedral (then used as a highly profitable museum) and proceeds from the Cathedral were funneled back into restoring the Church. During the restoration a un-detonated Nazi bomb from a fly by during the war was discovered in a damaged part of the Church. The Church reopened in August 1997, after 27 years of restoration, but does not currently function as a place of worship, currently it is a Museum of Mosaic.

Later that same day we journeyed to the location of the RRS Aurora the battleship-turned-museum. The Aurora was already a floating monument before the commencement of World War II. When this war broke out and the Nazis started bombing runs of St Petersburg, the Russians, in attempt to preserve their historic monuments deliberately submerged the Aurora in the bay where it was residing so it wouldn’t be a target. Slimily various other monuments and statues were also removed and buried in grounds for safe keeping until the war was over. Can you imagine, war time in Russia would be depressing enough, but to have all of the city monuments removed and buried, the golden domes repainted, everything that makes St Petersburg colourful and lively all obscured and hidden, it would have been an extremely depressing time to of lived here.

Ironically, one of the most interesting parts of the tour that day was not the monuments or visiting the grand palaces, rather a now shabby looking brown building on the edge of St Petersburg square; the Hotel ACTOPЍЯ.

This Hotel, built in 1912 was the hotel Adolf Hitler had chosen to host his celebratory party for once Leningrad was captured. The egotistical leader went as far to have invites to the event prematurely printed and delivered to guests. Today the hotel is occupied by visiting presidents and world leaders when they stay in St Petersburg.

The second day included a river tour along the Fontanka River, the very same river that runs parallel and across from our hotel. As mentioned earlier, St Petersburg is a conglomeration of islands, so the tour in fact involved quite a few river systems. On the previous day our tour guide was umming and arring about the availability of doing the river cruise since heavy rainfall on outer parts of St Petersburg had meant the river was a lot higher than usual. Yesterday, walking along the waterside near the naval college and Aurora battle ship is you could easily see just how high the tide had become with part of the pathway around the bay completely submerged.

At the time I didn’t think her concerns were justified, it turns out though she wasn’t far off, although the cruise left on schedule various bridges only just cleared the top deck of the river boat some by less than 20 cm.

It was another very cold morning in St Petersburg; I loved it. To me, the only thing that could make the whole Russian experience even better would be if it snowed. So here we were on a river boat, cruising through various canals at 11am. The maximum temperature for the day was 5 degrees Celsius, of course being on the water meant in reality it was probably a lot colder. On a typical morning I leave the hotel wearing pants, shirt, a thick jumper I bought whilst at Cambridge, my long black ‘London’ coat, a scarf and gloves, this morning was no different, in addition we also each had a blanket covering us as we sat on the deck chairs on the aft section of the boat. My fingers, despite the gloves and the rest of my body all wrapped up were still going numb, in fact, after a few minutes on the water my whole body was cold, but for some dumbfounded reason I just didn’t care, I was in Russia, cruising on a river boat through the canals of St Petersburg. It felt great.

The cruise lasted about 40 minutes and took us through various canal networks showing a variety of architecture; some original 1800’s architecture along with post World War II bombing zones which have of course since then been rebuilt.

The architecture in St Petersburg is very colourful. When Peter the first ruled St Petersburg he made it clear he wanted a colourful city. Being a fan of Venice, Italy, he invited architects from all over Europe to plan and design St Petersburg. Buildings were rendered and coloured in yellow, reds and greens. Owners of buildings which refused to comply with the colour scheme were taxed accordingly. St Petersburg became known as ‘The Venice of the North’.

For a 300 year old city, St Petersburg is drenched in history, the city name itself St Petersburg was not the only name the city had. After the death of Lenin, the city was renamed ‘Leningrad’ in honorary memory of their former leader. It wasn’t until September 6th 1991 after a referendum held in June of that year that voters chose to restore the name ‘Saint Petersburg’.

We are only two days into our stay at St Petersburg, and already in some respects it has completely lived up to my expectations. There quite simply is no other place like it in Europe.

After our brief two night stay in Antwerp we caught the train back to Brussels. A sure sign we were nearing the city of Brussels we passed the red neon glow of the red light district. The girls barely covered in their seductive lace outfits, in a little room, the windows facing the street of onlookers. Some girls just seemed to pace their window while others sat in the corner. Some even interacting and teasing potential clientele through the glass. I found the whole experience not to dissimilar to that of a puppy attempting to impress a shopper through a pet store window.

We arrived at the station both fatigued and full of adrenaline. This trip has been pretty much go go go for me, and my prior work stop in Antwerp was no exception.

We shuffled our heavy suitcases off the train onto the platform. I looked about for any indication of an exit. There were no shortage of signs, the problem was I couldn’t read any of them. To make matters more frustrating the signs most of which seemed to be in French obviously use similar alpha characters to English; walking briskly past signs my eyes would often catch partial glimpses of the text, my mind then if for no better reason because it was bored at the lack of information stimuli would re arrange the letters into something more meaningful and I started to catch myself doing double-takes at signs just to be sure. Quickly I gave up on the text and just focused on the symbols. Identifying the taxi symbol I followed the logo out of the train station.

Belgium at a glance is not disabled access friendly, and the capital being Brussels was no exception to this. My palms grew sore from lifting the heavy cases up the stairs, having yo be especially careful either them too due to the structural weakness of the wheels since London.

We arrived at our hotel; The Moon. The entrance of which was little more than a doorway along a facade of shops and restaurants facing out into a square. Immediately after entering the doorway was a staircase, reception was on level one. Fortunately the reservation process was simple and our room was available and with that proceeded to carry both cases up a further two flights of stairs to our shoe box of a room.

The room itself was adequate with a window, bed, shower and toilet. It was just cozy. When in the shower for instance one had to be mindful of turning around as your back will quite often hit the tap either dramatically altering the pressure or worse the temperature.

Brussels is beautiful, the building architecture in the various squares is all gothic, dating back well beyond the 1300’s. The shops and restaurants extending out from the squares were old English style, the streets all cobble stone.

When it came to dinner the only problem was choosing where to eat. There was no possibility we were going to die of hunger, we were located right in the middle of the dining district.

A lot of the eateries were French and Italian influenced. Quite to our surprise pizza, lasagna or spaghetti could be ordered from practically anywhere. When it came to dinner time the waiters would be out thru front of their establishment ready to greet you as you walked by. One was even so confident that he greeted us saying ‘ah good you made it, I have your table as you requested.’ we walked passed that one and finally surrendered ourselves to a restaurant that offered us a free drink of our choosing (although We were convinced this was worked into the price). We both settled for a Duvel beer - my Belgium contact introduced both Michelle and I to it, its a local beer 8% - salad and spaghetti, with a thin slice of cake for desert. For €12 you couldn’t argue. Tho it did make me miss home style spaghetti!