Forgive me if I'm slightly less than coherent. I'm moderately intoxicated at the moment, and while I think I'm capable of stringing words together correctly, I might be wrong.
... Don't look at me like that, it's perfectly legal for me to be intoxicated, in both Russia and the US.
At any rate, to recount day two of our St. Petersburg adventure, we went to the Peterhof. The Peterhof (for the millionth time, don't hold me to that spelling) is the home of Peter the Great. It was the castle that he built (or technically, it's the castle that his daughter Elizavaeta I built on the sight of the much more modest castle that Peter I built) outside of St. Petersburg. It's a very lovely place, with huge gardens. We may not have seen all of it, but we saw plenty. Sergei (our tour guide) cheefully informed us that we had probably walked a total of five kilometers in the three or four hours we spent there.
The Peterhof is stunning. It's a huge yellow Baroque style building with lots of gold gilding. It has the same sort of feel as Versailles, only significantly less gaudy and over done. As we approached the front, we cooed and took pretty pictures of the gold statues that were all over the place. Nadia and Sergei told us that it would be better to wait until later to take our pictures. This was confusing advice, to be sure, but we followed it. The reason why they wanted us to wait, we discovered mid-tour, was that those statues? Were part of a really huge and gorgeous fountain. One of many, as it turned out. There are 150 fountains at the Peterhof, and most of them are very unique. When I get back to the states (and a reliable high speed internet connection) I shall post some of the pictures, and describe the fountains.
While we were there, we also got to look around at the main building of the castle, which is in the process of being restored. You see, the Germans landed there and totally trashed the place during World War II. After the war was over, the Russians began restoring the place. They've got a ways left to go, of course, but it's all in the interior. The exterior is stunning.
You can't drive to get to the Peterhof. It's on an island, and there aren't any bridges. You must take a ferry of a sort. The ride will last for a good 45 minutes. It's a lovely ride, with lots of pretty views. I highly recommend it. We took the ferry, and while I personally think that the ride up was better as we got most of the back portion of the ferry to ourselves, gratis early morning hour. On our way home, I wound up sitting next to some middle aged German guy who didn't think me worth noticing.
We had lunch on our way back to the hotel. Nothing fancy, mind you, just the Russian variation on hot dogs from a stand near the Winter Palace, but they were very good, and not too god-awfully expensive.
Also on our way home, we stopped at what I consider to be one of the top scariest places in Russia: The deepest metro station. Well. It certainly terrified me, although I don't think it had any affect on the others. I can certainly tell you that it didn't bother the others anywhere near as much as it bothered me, but then, no one else freaks out because of heights. It got so bad that Nadia (who was in front of me) turned around and asked if I was ok. Carley had to explain that I was really afraid of heights, and the down escalator was freaking me out.
For dinner, we ate at a great little Russian food restaurant. It wasn't too expensive, and I even got a rather yummy traditional Russian soufle cakey thing. I don't remember what it was called, but it tasted awesome. After that, we were planning to go see the bridges open (some of the St. Petersburg bridges open like drawbridges at night. It's rather nifty to watch), but we got a bit... sidetracked. First, it's the Eurocup for soccer right now, and so we thought "Oh. It's another two hours until the bridges open. Let's pop into the Irish Pub across the street from the hotel and see if we can catch a game. And maybe something a little stronger than soda." Note that this meets everyone, including Nadia. You have, of course, anticipated the punch line: One soccer match and a rather strong cocktail later and a half, it's pouring down rain, and we're all too late to catch the bridges anyway. Oops. Oh well. It was probably more fun anyway, and certainly explains why I'm slightly less than coherent. I'm pretty sure that meets my alcohol quotient for the night.
Aaaaaand..... that's about it. I'm dead tired at the moment, and am looking forward to sleeping a little bit more tomorrow morning. G'night!
... Don't look at me like that, it's perfectly legal for me to be intoxicated, in both Russia and the US.
At any rate, to recount day two of our St. Petersburg adventure, we went to the Peterhof. The Peterhof (for the millionth time, don't hold me to that spelling) is the home of Peter the Great. It was the castle that he built (or technically, it's the castle that his daughter Elizavaeta I built on the sight of the much more modest castle that Peter I built) outside of St. Petersburg. It's a very lovely place, with huge gardens. We may not have seen all of it, but we saw plenty. Sergei (our tour guide) cheefully informed us that we had probably walked a total of five kilometers in the three or four hours we spent there.
The Peterhof is stunning. It's a huge yellow Baroque style building with lots of gold gilding. It has the same sort of feel as Versailles, only significantly less gaudy and over done. As we approached the front, we cooed and took pretty pictures of the gold statues that were all over the place. Nadia and Sergei told us that it would be better to wait until later to take our pictures. This was confusing advice, to be sure, but we followed it. The reason why they wanted us to wait, we discovered mid-tour, was that those statues? Were part of a really huge and gorgeous fountain. One of many, as it turned out. There are 150 fountains at the Peterhof, and most of them are very unique. When I get back to the states (and a reliable high speed internet connection) I shall post some of the pictures, and describe the fountains.
While we were there, we also got to look around at the main building of the castle, which is in the process of being restored. You see, the Germans landed there and totally trashed the place during World War II. After the war was over, the Russians began restoring the place. They've got a ways left to go, of course, but it's all in the interior. The exterior is stunning.
You can't drive to get to the Peterhof. It's on an island, and there aren't any bridges. You must take a ferry of a sort. The ride will last for a good 45 minutes. It's a lovely ride, with lots of pretty views. I highly recommend it. We took the ferry, and while I personally think that the ride up was better as we got most of the back portion of the ferry to ourselves, gratis early morning hour. On our way home, I wound up sitting next to some middle aged German guy who didn't think me worth noticing.
We had lunch on our way back to the hotel. Nothing fancy, mind you, just the Russian variation on hot dogs from a stand near the Winter Palace, but they were very good, and not too god-awfully expensive.
Also on our way home, we stopped at what I consider to be one of the top scariest places in Russia: The deepest metro station. Well. It certainly terrified me, although I don't think it had any affect on the others. I can certainly tell you that it didn't bother the others anywhere near as much as it bothered me, but then, no one else freaks out because of heights. It got so bad that Nadia (who was in front of me) turned around and asked if I was ok. Carley had to explain that I was really afraid of heights, and the down escalator was freaking me out.
For dinner, we ate at a great little Russian food restaurant. It wasn't too expensive, and I even got a rather yummy traditional Russian soufle cakey thing. I don't remember what it was called, but it tasted awesome. After that, we were planning to go see the bridges open (some of the St. Petersburg bridges open like drawbridges at night. It's rather nifty to watch), but we got a bit... sidetracked. First, it's the Eurocup for soccer right now, and so we thought "Oh. It's another two hours until the bridges open. Let's pop into the Irish Pub across the street from the hotel and see if we can catch a game. And maybe something a little stronger than soda." Note that this meets everyone, including Nadia. You have, of course, anticipated the punch line: One soccer match and a rather strong cocktail later and a half, it's pouring down rain, and we're all too late to catch the bridges anyway. Oops. Oh well. It was probably more fun anyway, and certainly explains why I'm slightly less than coherent. I'm pretty sure that meets my alcohol quotient for the night.
Aaaaaand..... that's about it. I'm dead tired at the moment, and am looking forward to sleeping a little bit more tomorrow morning. G'night!
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