Monday, June 28 , St. Petersburg, Russia

When we woke up--we saw the sun! Some clouds, but more sunshine than we've seen so far. We went up to the Observation Deck to watch the ship's slow progress as we got closer and closer to St. Petersburg. Even though still officially in the Baltic Sea, we began to see narrow little "reefs" just barely out of the water, some big enough to have a few shrubs growing on them. Again, this must be tricky navigation, and I'm sure we have a local pilot on board to do the steering.

Ahead of the ship we could see the buildings of St. Petersburg, still quite far off. Closer, the ship slowly moved past what seemed a forest of container shipping cranes. This is a huge port, but later, on closer observation, we were to see that very few ships were actually being loaded. Another sign that the Russian economy is still not doing very well.

When the ship finally tied up at the dock, we found we had a front row seat from our verandah. An 8-man band was setting up, almost in front of us. Behind them was the immigration building through which we would have to pass to go on our excursions. While we only needed to show our ship I.D. card to come and go in Stockholm and Tallinn, in St. Petersburg, we must show our passport every time we leave the ship.

When the band finally struck up, the first tune they played was...."The Stars and Stripes Forever." I found it a very emotional moment, to realize that not only were we in Russia, but the Russians were warmly welcoming us with our own patriotic songs. Thirty, forty, fifty, sixty years ago--I would never have dreamed that this could occur. How the times and world politics have changed!

Our first morning in St. Petersburg started off quite leisurely, as our tour to Peter the Great's summer palace, "Peterhof" did not leave until 1:30. This seemed a good time to eat breakfast in the dining room--where the waffles, and Eggs Benedict all were very tasty. Our table companions were a couple from the South--and he had been a P-38 pilot during WWII. He had vivid memories of flying from his base in southern Italy to bomb the heck out of Berlin.

One of the pressures of being in the Leisure Class (temporarily) is that one must give the servants time to clean up after one. Anyway, when we went to the cabin after breakfast, there was "Binky" our steward, trying to make the bed, etc. on his morning shift, so we accommodated him by spending a little time on the Lido Deck in one of the hot tubs. And, we were able to do this under sunshine! Ah, how good that felt--both the hot, bubbly water and the sun.

As we were basking in the hot tub, we suddenly realized we were being filmed--by Russian cameramen with great big video cameras. As the morning excursionists were trooping off our ship, here came a large entourage of very well-dressed men and women, being escorted aboard the Westerdam by some senior crew members. This is the first time this ship has visited any of these Baltic ports, and apparently this huge ship and the Holland America name were important enough to rate this visit by Russian dignitaries. We saw them all over the ship, so they must have had a thorough tour. Perhaps Glenn and I appeared on Russian TV that night in St. Petersburg. We'll never know.

When we left the ship for our trip to Peterhof, we had to be sure we had all sorts of papers with us: our passports, our ship I.D. card, our excursion ticket all had to be out and ready to be viewed. It actually took quite a little while to get through the Russian immigration building--every passport had to be leafed through, a vacant page found, and a Russian stamp firmly planted in it. We were also given a little red card to keep inside our passport. If that wasn't available on our return, there would be a $50 fine, and for all I know, a quick trip to Siberia. Anyway, we took very good care of both passport and red card!

The pier area was filled all day with buses, waiting for their load of tourists. We found our bus, and our guide, "Olga," and set out on the 25-mile drive north of St. Petersburg to Peterhof, situated right on the Baltic Sea. Times may not be very good in Russia yet, but obviously, they are good enough for a lot of Russians to drive cars and trucks, and our trip to Peterhof was slowed considerably because of the traffic jams we encountered.

"Olga" spoke very good English and provided some better than average information as we were driving to Peterhof. She spent a lot of time on the siege of Leningrad (St. Petersburg) by the Germans, during WWII. Taking up positions in the many Czarist castles ringing the city, the Germans first tried to starve the city into submission; when that didn't work they shelled and bombed the city. This went on for nine hundred days. This was through those terrible Russian winters--and one of those winters was the coldest ever known in St. Petersburg. Some supplies finally made it to the city via frozen Lake Ladoga, but the Germans often strafed the trucks trying to get through to the city. Olga said over one million people died in the city, from starvation and disease and the bombings. Today there are about one and a half million inhabitants in the city--mind boggling to think that maybe two-thirds of the population died within a period of 3 years. By the time the Germans gave up and headed back to Germany, they had pretty much made ruins out of all those palaces of the Czars.

Olga told about the terrible times in WWII to help explain why St. Petersburg looks like it does today. First, after the war huge apartment buildings had to be built as fast as possible to house the remaining population. Until new housing was built, the best people could do was to crowd into small apartments with other families. Olga was obviously very bitter over the failure of the Communist regime, saying that they "conned" the common people into sacrificing for the common good, while a few managed to live very comfortably.

And, what about "perestroika" and the new Russia? Well, according to Olga, the new Russia will probably eventually prosper, and the youth of today will adapt to a new way of life, but for the older generations, there is little to look forward to. Pensions for the elderly, and particularly the veterans of WWII have been slashed to almost nothing. High unemployment has also contributed to some very disturbing statistics: in Russia, the average life span of a man has actually gone DOWN in the past few years--to only 59 years today.

Along our drive we saw mile after mile of those big, ugly apartment blocks--3 to 5 stories high, almost always needing a good coat of paint, no greenery anywhere, no flowers. As we got farther out in the country, we saw less apartments and more single family homes. Olga said those who could afford it, were buying these as retirement homes or just comfortable suburban homes. Some were old houses that have been somewhat fixed up, and we did see a fair bit of new construction.

One of the suburban places that has had a bit of "fixing up" is another of the Romanov palaces--which is now the St. Petersburg home of President Putin. A St. Petersburg native, he apparently spends a fair bit of time in the city. The Russian flag was flying above the palace--I don't know if that indicated that he was in residence or not.

Olga said that the palaces which have been restored, like Peterhof, the Hermitage, Catherine's Palace, etc. have depended in large part on unpaid, volunteer labor. When you see the amount of gilding, and intricate carving, etc. in these buildings, it is hard to believe that they were just burned-out shells after World War II.

When we arrived at Peterhof, the sun was still shining, and how those gilded domes and statues did gleam! We had a very nice tour through the palace itself, after putting little cloth "booties" over our shoes so we wouldn't mar the beautiful inlaid wooden floors we walked over. We had to quickly learn to do the "bootie shuffle" so that we didn't slip on the polished floors. Room after room evoked "oohs" and "ahhh" from us tourists. Those Czars certainly believed in ostentatious display of their wealth. Olga did say that many of the priceless furniture, paintings, and other objects in Peterhof, and the other palaces, was removed before the Germans got to the city. Much of the priceless art was hidden in caves in the Ural Mountains. Some was even lost there--couldn't be found after the war. So, while the rooms themselves are restorations, many of the beautiful objects in them are the originals--and many do date back to the time of Peter the Great and the very early 1700's when he founded the city and built this palace.

After the last gorgeous palace room, we pulled off our booties and headed out to see the marvelous fountains and gilded statues that are really this palace's main claim to fame. The sun was still shining, and there was a pleasant, cool breeze so we could enjoy the scene to its fullest. A long, narrow reflecting pond extended clear out to the shore--we could see the blue Baltic Sea off in the distance.

Even though my hip and knees were complaining mightily by the time I had climbed the final flights of steps in the palace garden and then back on the bus, we had little time to recharge our batteries. This was our only overnight in any port, and we had booked an excursion to see a Folkloric Spectacular" in a theater in downtown St. Petersburg.

Dinner was a rather hurried affair, then back through the Russian emigration with another look at our passports, and on the bus by 7 p.m. The drive to the theater gave us a chance for a little look at the city. Along the way, we drove along some of the city's canals and past many of the mansions that once were inhabited by the Russian nobility. These still look in reasonably good condition, unlike so many of those blocks of ugly apartments.

A pretty evening in St. Petersburg, still part of the "White Nights" with the long twilights of midsummer. But now, the sun had disappeared and it was overcast--maybe even dripping a few raindrops. When we reached the theater, it turned out to be not a 19th century building, but probably a mid-20th century building. Definitely of the communist era--no gilding here! But it was a very spacious theater, with a gorgeous red curtain on the stage, and red carpeting on the curved staircases leading up to the theater. Yes--and as the tour description had said, there were "70 steps to negotiate to reach the seating area." By the time our bus arrived, many other busloads of tourists from the Westerdam had also arrived. We were told that this performance was a special one, just for Holland America passengers--Glenn counted about 600 seats in the theater--all full. We found seats at the very back of the auditorium, but they were comfy and had good sight lines to the stage.

For the next couple hours we were well entertained by this Russian dance troupe and musicians. Tremendous amount of energy on that stage, as they did traditional dances, complete with the squat kicks and high leaping that is always associated with Russian dance. Beautiful, colorful costumes. We have no pictures of the evening--somehow, we got the message that cameras would not be allowed, but that proved untrue--and many of our fellow tourists were busily using up their flashes during the evening. We even had a nice intermission when champagne or orange juice and bottled water were served in the area outside the theater. In addition to the champagne, we also each took a bottled water, which was to come in very handy on other excursions during the cruise.

In spite of all the activity on the stage, both of us had a hard time staying awake. Partly from our sleep deprivation which continues, and partly because the theater was quite warm.

When we emerged from the theater at 9:45 p.m. it wasn't at all dark yet--just looked like late afternoon. We were back at the Russian emigration building about 10:15--and so was everybody else who had gone on an evening excursion! An evening of opera and music was also offered this night. I think about 3/4 of the ship's passengers were all waiting in long lines to have our passports checked once again. Perhaps the groups who flew to Moscow for the day were also in the long lines. Anyway, we all got to experience what it is like to be a Russian. At least before perestroika, the poor Russians seemed to spend a lot of their time in long lines, waiting for bread, shoes, you name it.

Once back on board, we went up to the Lido for an ice cream and cookies late snack. At 11:30 p.m. we watched the sun setting from the vantage point of that upper deck. Very pretty, with lots of pink clouds and a deep, blood-red sun.

Back in our room, I think we were almost asleep before our heads hit the pillows. This was a big, big day and the following one promised to be just as full.

Tuesday, June 29, St. Petersburg

Yep, this was another big, big day! We ordered breakfast to be served in our room this morning, knowing we had an early start for today's tour--the famous State Hermitage Museum and within it, a special tour of the "Golden Room." When we were planning this cruise, we gathered up travel tips on St. Petersburg from Mark, who has visited there both long before the advent of "perestroika" when he was shadowed everywhere by a Russian Intourist "guide," and again, just a few years ago after the Communists were out of power. On his later visit, he was in St. Petersburg at the same time as we were--for the "white nights" of June and midsummer.

Mark's advice to be sure and see the Golden Room [on the Hermitage website this is called the "Treasure Gallery"] was excellent. Without his advance description of that special place in the Hermitage we might never have considered adding it to the already considerable cost of touring just the Hermitage. But we were to find that it was a very high point of the Hermitage and we were glad we had reserved space on that special tour very early--by the time we boarded the ship, it was completely sold out, with no waiting list. Today's tour was a long one--5 1/2 hours, and also the most expensive of the cruise at $86. but hey, will we ever get to visit St. Petersburg again? Not very likely.

We were at the museum about 9:30. There was a short line outside the door, and a little combo playing songs to entertain us--and garner some tips, no doubt. The cruise tours got early entry into the Hermitage so we had an hour with at least a few thousand less fellow visitors. At 10:30 a.m. the doors were opened to everyone. Apparently the Hermitage is just as popular with Russians as with foreign tourists. Our guide said that over a million people visit the Hermitage every year.

Our group was already very small--only thirty people, and they split us into two groups once we got off the bus. We went through a few of the first galleries of the Hermitage, properly impressed with the beautiful interiors. Just as we were about to enter another room, a museum official handed our guide some written instructions, which apparently changed the order of our tour. We did an about face, and then headed down a rather dark hallway, filled with even darker paintings of various generations of Romanovs. Obviously, the guide was stalling for awhile, but this was probably the least interesting part of the museum and we never did figure out why we had to linger there so long, when we could have been seeing more of this amazing conglomeration of buildings and rooms, all full of priceless art.

Finally, the guide got a signal, and we were led to the entrance of the "Golden Room." I think the other half of our tour was the first group through the Golden Room that morning, and we were the second. Before we could enter what was basically a vault, we had to leave everything but our street clothes and shoes with a very grim-looking Russian woman. No coats, no cameras, no purses, no nothing extra! I had my passport in my purse instead of wearing my travel pouch, but luckily Glenn had his pouch and tucked mine in with his. I heard others protesting loudly that they didn't want to leave their passport with anybody. I felt exactly the same way!

Once shed of most of our belongings, we trooped down a long hall, and were met by a new guide, who entered the right combination to a locked door, and we went in to an anteroom where a couple women were seated. Our guide had to sign in, then the new guide had to sign in. This was all done very silently and with serious expressions on everyone's faces. Our guide announced that while we were in the Golden Room we would be under the guidance of "Maya," a very petite, slim blond young woman with a very sweet smile and a good command of English.

Maya led us through another very thick door and then we finally reached the inner sanctum. Coming from the darkened anteroom, it was especially dazzling to suddenly see golden objects gleaming under the bright spot lights in an array of glass display cases. Everyone gave out a very quiet "Wow!"

There was a succession of display rooms. We started with gold objects from the earliest period. These were religious objects and jewelry, made by the Scythians, a nomadic people whose culture (7th to 3rd centuries B.C.) extended into the Eurasian steppes between the Danube and Mongolia.

So, how did this beautiful gold work from ancient Scythian burial mounds near the Black Sea end up in the Hermitage? In the early 1700's Russian explorers brought these Scythian treasures to Czar Peter the Great. Our guide said Peter was first inclined to melt the objects down for the pure gold, but after seeing some of them, he realized their value as art objects, purchased all he could get his hands on and brought them to St. Petersburg. My later Web searching turned up the information that all the other burial mounds explored in that area had been robbed. It was not until the late 1990's that another unlooted Scythian burial mound was discovered. Rare gold art objects indeed!

The Scythians seemed fascinated with mythical animals, depicted in gold. They were also fascinated with mountain lions. Some of these were of good size--perhaps 10 inches long by 4 inches high. That's a heap of gold!! Maya said the golden image of the largest panther in the collection was the icon of the Hermitage. Good choice!

There were three distinct displays in the Treasure Gallery. After viewing the Scythian gold work, the next room contained gold jewelry found in the same area, but probably made by Greek goldsmiths, whose culture extended to the Black Sea area. Some of the earrings and necklaces had such fine gold mesh included in the object that you could only tell it was mesh by looking through the strong magnifying lens in the window. The guide asked a very pertinent question: "How did these people do such fine, microscopic work with gold--without even any kind of magnifying lenses?" Some of the literature described the Scythians as "barbarians." Not when it came to working gold! The guide said that sometime in the past century, artisans tried to recreate these intricate ornaments--and they couldn't do it. She also said most of the gold work was 18 karat.

The third room was of later jeweled treasures--the “Oriental collection” of gifts from India and China presented to Russian Czars between 14th and 17th centuries. In addition to golden crowns and saber handles, the objects were liberally sprinkled with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, pearls and other objects of great value then and now. This last room even had a few gold pieces from the Inca of the New World. Some people collect stamps or salt and pepper shakers; the Czars could afford to collect gold works of art!

Properly impressed by the Czars' gold collection, we left the Golden Room and started our quick march through some of the more famous rooms of the Hermitage. This is similar to the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C. It would take a lifetime to see it all--but most tourists "do" it in a couple hours. And, so, we "did" the Hermitage in a couple hours.

Room after room filled with either priceless paintings or antiques. Room after room also filled with way too many tourists! By the time we left the Golden Room the doors to the museum had been opened to everybody, and boy, did they flock in! At times, it was almost impossible to move because of the crush of bodies, and the main objective became keeping the guide's "marker," in sight. She was a rather short woman and held a pretty fan high over her head to guide us. She also looked very tired, and I bet she was, if she does this day after day in the tourist season.

Our guide did her best to find a spot where we could enjoy a Da Vinci or a Raphael with an unobstructed view, but of course, every other guide was trying to do the same thing. And, each of them was speaking, pretty much at the top of their lungs, about all the art we were passing by. So many different languages all being shouted at the same time. I think I found out what Babel sounds like. We did see a few people using headphones and a tape player to learn about the Hermitage's collection, but unfortunately, the bulk of the tourists got only what they could glean from their guide's shouted words. Using individual players to get rid of the noise and the need to stay in big clusters would greatly improve the experience of visiting the Hermitage.

We had paid the charge to take a camera into the museum, and so Glenn had his very nice Panasonic digital with zoom and a "no shake" feature. Without such a camera it would have been foolish to pay to use a camera. But, Glenn could hold the camera high over his head, using the screen on the back of the camera for focusing. Yes, some of his pictures have a blurred head in them, but by and large he got very good pictures in an impossible situation.

At one point, we had a few minutes' wait on a stair landing--and an enterprising souvenir vendor was all set up there, with books, etc. for sale. We hastily grabbed a colorful guide to the Hermitage for $7 U.S. Good thing we bought when we did, we had very little time at the end for the souvenir shop, but that was fine by us.

It's easy to be very critical of the Hermitage. Yes, it has a huge and priceless collection of art from the Stone Age to the 20th century. Yes, the buildings themselves have been painstakingly restored. But when compared with other world-famous art museums that we have been fortunate enough to visit, there are some significant problems at the Hermitage. For starters, the buildings are not climate-controlled, so I assume that means the art, and the patrons, endure whatever the weather delivers--must be very cold in the winter, hot and humid in the summer. Can't be good for the paintings. Next, many of the paintings were disappointing; none of them seemed as arresting as those by the same artist that we have seen elsewhere. One fellow tourist commented "the lighting is very poor, and the paintings need a good cleaning" and I would agree.

I think we were more impressed with the marvelous mosaic work done with malachite and lapis lazuli--the huge urns and pillars made of these semi-precious stones were amazing. And the room interiors themselves; the crystal chandeliers; the furniture--all were absolutely gorgeous.

But, if the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, the Alte Pinothek in Munich, the Quay d'Orsay in Paris all seem to show off their art to better advantage, the Hermitage has to be cut some slack just because of what the museum, its art and its caretakers have had to endure over the past century. Yes, those other European museums must have also suffered greatly from occupation, bombing and neglect. But after reading some of the accounts of what the Hermitage and its caretakers endured during World War II, it seems a miracle that it exists at all today.

While it may not measure up to those other museums in some respects, the Hermitage has a marvelous website: (http://www.hermitagemuseum) where you can take virtual tours of its most important collections, and read the story of how its treasures were saved during World War II.

Here's the history of the Hermitage in a few paragraphs from the Web:

"The story of the Hermitage collection begins with Catherine II. Soon after assuming the throne, Catherine decided that in the tradition of cultured, enlightened empresses she would gather an art collection. She knew practically nothing about art but she had a lot of money and in 1764 she made her first acquisition: 225 Dutch and Flemish paintings bought from a Berlin merchant who needed to pay off some debts. This acquisition marked the beginning of Catherine's "painting fever" where she embarked on a mission to build up as large a collection as fast as she could.

Russian ambassadors to Europe were given the task of attending art auctions and buying as much as possible. Catherine also received assistance from some of her famous correspondents, including Diderot and Voltaire. Whole collections were swooped up with Imperial money including not only paintings but sketches, applied arts, medals, money, and books (including Voltaire's library). As the collection expanded a second building (the Small Hermitage) was built in 1775, and a third followed in 1787 (the Old Hermitage). Given that the palace was not open to the public few people were entitled to see her collection. Catherine is known to have boasted, "Only the mice and I can admire all this," and she made the foreign mice pay more.

After Catherine's death, later emperors continued to enlarge the collection, though not at her insane pace. In 1814 Alexander I, fresh from his victory over Napoleon, bought the private collection of Napoleon's wife, Josephine, at a tremendous discount.

After the 1917 Revolution the collection swelled when the collections of the city's wealthiest families - the Yusupovskys, Stroganovs, Sheremetovs, and Shuvalovs - were "annexed" along with the finest items from the imperial palaces at Peterhof and Gatchina. The only time the collection ever shrank was during Stalin's reign when a few paintings (among them some Rembrandts and Rubens) and Fabergé eggs were sold in the West. Stalin saw the collection as trading fodder for farm machinery.

And, how the Hermitage and its art survived World War II, from the official Hermitage website:

1941: Beginning of the Great Patriotic War and evacuation of Hermitage collections to the Urals

On 22 June 1941 German troops attacked the Soviet Union and the country was drawn into the Second World War, known in Russia as the Great Patriotic War. Hermitage staff and hundreds of volunteers began packing up the exhibits for evacuation to an as yet unknown location. Over a million works of art were sent in two special trains to Sverdlovsk (Ekaterinburg) in the Urals, but the Germans closed the circle around Leningrad as the third train was being prepared. The city was now entirely besieged and was to remain so for 900 days, during which hundreds of thousands of people, including Hermitage staff, were to die of starvation.

The first trains arrived in Sverdlovsk in July 1941, and the renowned Hermitage scholar Vladimir Levinson-Lessing was appointed Director of the Sverdlovsk Branch of the Hermitage.

In Leningrad, staff were busy packing up the items left behind, as well as taking in objects from the suburban palaces (most of which were soon to be occupied by the Germans) and other institutions which had not been evacuated. Despite starvation and severely cold temperatures, the Museum continued its preservational functions. With only a skeleton staff left behind, it was difficult to protect the vast buildings and their sumptuous interiors against snow, wind and rain. Equipped with first-aid kits, wearing helmets and gloves, the Museum air wardens cleared away heaps of broken bricks and the remains of charred flooring after each bomb hit the building; they helped dig out the living and the dead and bandage the wounded after raids in the surrounding area. Twelve air-raid shelters were fitted out in the basements of the Museum complex and until the first evacuations were made in March 1942 there were 12,000 people housed there permanently, among them the Museum Director, celebrated Academician Iosif Orbeli.

Hermitage staff both in Sverdlovsk and in Leningrad acted as museum attendants, continuing their scholarly activity and lecturing in hospitals, holding conferences, writing scholarly articles. No items were lost during the evacuation.

This six-day evacuation of thousands of paintings, sculptures, and jewels was one of the largest art-preservation actions in history.

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We got back to the ship about 3 p.m.--pretty well tuckered out. Had a light snack/lunch in the Lido, followed by a much-needed nap. Then--time for dinner again!

At dinner, we noticed that two of our dining companions were missing--for the second night in a row. Bob and Elsie said that the husband of the Colorado couple became ill yesterday--with serious retention of water. He missed ALL of the St. Petersburg tours, although we did see his wife going on one tour yesterday. Now, it seems he has been spending a lot of time in the ship's infirmary, even had an MRI, and while they weren't exactly sure what his problem is, they are giving him diuretics and he is confined to his cabin. Bummer!

After dinner, we again skipped the lounge entertainment--tonight it is a solo comedian--we saw him on the first night, didn't seem worth listening to again. Besides, we wanted to go to the show at 11 p.m. tonight--put on by the Filipino crew members. So, a short, and unprofitable visit to the casino followed by a nap. The show was not up to the standards of the one by the Indonesian crew that we saw a year ago on the Statendam. Again, we had the problem of almost dropping off to sleep during the performance.

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Trip Log, St. Petersburg, Russia

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