A tale of two cities

Telling anybody that you are ‘off on a family holiday to Russia’ can sound a little oxymoronic. It certainly didn’t feel right as the words left my mouth when I informed friends and polite inquirers of my family’s short up and coming escapade to the ex-Soviet state. Nor will it now, after a significantly extended stay thanks to the boisterous geological activities of Iceland, have any less of a twinge to it as I relay my Easter holiday activities in conversations to come.

It was definitely not a holiday. You would do well, on a visit to Moscow and St. Petersburg, to have one of those. The histories of these cities are too raw, unprecedented, and recent, and their atmospheres so unique, tangible and at times confrontational, that visiting them promises a trip that will stimulate you, amaze you, and maybe, at least with the help of a volcano as I was fortunate enough to have, shake the ground you stand on a little.

When I arrived alone in Moscow to join my family who had travelled a few days earlier I did not know what to expect, but that is the fun of Russia. It is thanks to its momentous history which is, crucially, so different and individual, that makes it the alien place it is today that can stimulate and stir us, and lead us to a higher consciousness of where we come from and who we are. My ignorance of what lay ahead did not hinder my excitement. A city of eleven million people, and the capital of a nation that covers over one ninth of the Earth’s land surface, it was unlikely to disappoint such anticipation. The heaving traffic, stern, stylish citizens and striking architecture combine to give Moscow its aggressive, buzzing atmosphere.

So, what does one do in Moscow? There is no better place to begin in getting to grips with this vast nation than at the city’s heart: the Red Square. Standing in the centre, one is consumed by Russian history, culture and heritage. The towering walls of the Kremlin – home to the President’ s administration and the original ‘old city’; St. Bazil’s Cathedral – the most colourful church you will ever see, that to the Western eye looks more like a cross between Mecca and Disneyland than a church; and Gum – Russia’s delectable answer to Harrods, all surround you, whilst, at the centre-right, lies the tomb of Lenin – an ominous monument to a magisterial, yet fiercely controversial figure of global history.

If ten minutes standing in the Red Square do not do it, a couple of nights will be more than enough to get the feel for the Russian capital, primarily exploring the sights you see from the square. Four hours north on the rather swanky new high-speed rail is an altogether different city. St. Petersburg, ‘the Venice of the North’ (there are plenty of canals), lies six degrees south of the Arctic Circle where, thanks to the extreme autocracy of Russian society until the Revolution tore the State apart in 1917, an array of the most impressive palaces you will ever see await you. The pièce de résistance, the Winter Palace, doubles as an art gallery and surely has only the Louvre to rival the scale and prestige of its collection. If you fancy a couple of minutes per piece, you will need a visa for ten years rather than the standard issue ten days.

Although forced upon us by the unfortunate condition of the European skies, an extra four days, where we thrown out of our more than pleasant hotel to live with an ageing native couple, comes recommended. Their personal accounts of surviving the siege of Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) by eating glue, and being pulled alive from the rubble of what had been a bedroom, did more than enough to bring recent history of the city alive. It also gifted us with invaluable time to simply muse over the place in which we were.

Russia; daunting, yet rewarding; different, and so enlightening; shocking, thus enlivening. Give it a go.