Sofia: out of the Schengen and into the fire.

Sofia is small, historical, dirty, beautiful and run-down.

Rila Monastery.

My tour through Scandinavia, Russia, The Baltics and Poland ended back in Berlin. After saying goodbye to a few of my favourite people on the tour I jumped on a bus bound for Sofia, Bulgaria. The bus left at 11am from Berlin and went via Dresden, Prague, Bratislava, Budapest before putting the pedal to the metal over the seriously bumpy roads of Serbia and Bulgaria. This really put my 8 countries in 23 days to shame as I managed 5 in 28 hours.  Upon arriving at the Bulgarian border I was asked all the usual border questions ‘where have you come from?’, “where are you going”, and “how long are you staying?”. Considering it was 8am and I’d barely slept a wink, I thought my disposition was quite sunny. This may have been why the border control officer took a personal interest in my safety. She asked me why I would be going to Sofia, she told me it was very dangerous and I shouldn’t be going alone. In short, she scared the daylights out of me. I know she didn’t mean to, but after just leaving a group of great friends, not having my partner in crime with me and facing 3 months outside of the Schengen in countries of this ilk, I was quite upset. In retrospect what she was saying was born out of misinformation and racism, but at the time it only upset me and made me feel lonely. I found at that point, getting on the bus and driving towards uncertainty to be one of the most daunting prospects of my life. Especially considering I have no concrete plans for these 3 months. Moving around, WWOOFing and seeing where it all takes me is the plan. I know it will be good for me to let my life run its course, but that doesn’t mean I’m not afraid (and excited) of what’s to come. This wasn’t helped of course by the useless directions I had to the hostel and the fact that I wandered around with my bag for about an hour in uptown Sofia. To say this area looked sketchy might be an understatement. I thought the Soviet era buildings of my visits to Russia and Poland looked bad, but this, this was something else. The grime had reached a new thickness, most windows appeared to be broken, rubbish was everywhere and the pavement bricks moved under my feet as I walked. I was feeling pretty down and out. I decided I would use the public transport directions and jumped on a tram. As i struggled to lift my bags, I was helped by a lovely old man who spoke no English and used a crutch to help him walk. I am able bodied and I often sit by and let people handle things themselves, but he was straight up to help me. He was like my Bulgarian guardian angel. It was then that I knew I’d be ok. Being poor doesn’t make you bad and the gentrification of a place isn’t always a good thing.

Uptown Sofia.

Walking around the city of Sofia there is a lot to see, many thousands of years of living in this area means that Roman historical sites lay under your feet, Byzantine buildings throw back to Turkish occupation and the thick communist concrete blocks stand side by side. In the city centre, the synagogue, mosque, cathedral and orthodox church all sit on the same street, right next to a McDonalds of course. So most religions are covered here. There are a number of beautiful churches in other parts of the city too. A grand Russian orthodox church with onion domes, the very grand Alexander Nevsky cathedral and the St. Sofia church (which is apparently where the city draws its name from) are just 100 meters from each other in a sculpture park with an art market and a whole lot of pickpockets stalking unsuspecting victims. Classic Europe.

Ivan Vazov Theatre.

Sofia is a city of layers, there is no old town because the people here have chosen to build over the past. But that is not to say there is not a lot of beautiful historical buildings. Excavations of Roman ruins are happening in many places throughout the city and the old city gates from the 8th century sit innocuously in the metro station. Turkish styled bathhouses, grand theatres and palaces are dotted around the city centre. Some of the buildings are truly gorgeous and would rival what you would see in Western European cities with much more cash to splash.

St George Rotunda (4th Century) and a Roman excavation.

Speaking of cash, there isn’t a lot to go around here. Bulgaria flies its EU flags high and right next to the red, green and white of its own. But this is by no means the ‘Europe’ that I have come to understand. The people here are poor and many live in poverty.  Unfortunately, Sofia the city only held my interest for so long, it was the hostel that I stayed in with its array of colourful characters, kind souls and free spirits that kept my attention and made me feel as if I’ve seen nothing of the world. I met a couple who had ridden their bikes from Alaska to Guatemala and were now doing Greece to Germany. I met a Syrian refugee looking for opportunities in a new land. A guy who had packed up his bags and lived in India for 8 months. A hitch hiker who had gone all over the world without being killed by an Ivan Malat-type. I met people who had lived and worked all over the world. I was compelled by their stories and the places they had visited. It made me feel remarkably poorly travelled, but that’s ok, I adored their stories.

St. Sofia statue

One of my days in Sofia, I was excited to get out of the city and explore the nearby Rila Monastery. After 3 months around big cities this was a welcome change. Set in the Rila mountains this is where St. Ivan came to live without material possessions in a cave and where his students built a beautiful monastery in his honour. We were given a lift up to the cave and monastery for an explore by a local man, also named Ivan. Coincidence? First, we explored the forest where the cave sits, a tiny hole in the ground that, to me, seemed impossible to live in. But I guess this is why he is a saint and I am not. After this we went down to the monastery. it was picturesque to say the least. The Rila mountains tower above, streams of water roll around the outside of the stone walls like a moat and the monastery buildings are works of arts themselves. The residence is four-stories high and the church is decorated in the orthodox style which of course means every inch of it is covered in paintings, mosiacs and marbles and gold. I don’t know if my photos or descriptions will do it justice, but it’s one of the loveliest places I’ve been on the whole trip.

Monastery and mountains.

Sofia’s poverty means it was a confronting first look at Europe’s east, but it did surprise me with its history and hidden gem tucked away in the mountains.

 

Warsaw: a scarred city.

Warsaw is rainy, recreated, tranquil, strained and quietly determined.

Old Town, rebuilt from scratch.

In the last month or so I have been spending a fair bit of time in places that have been devastated by oppression, but none of them have the impact that Poland has had on me. I think this is because I know that Warsaw has been rebuilt from the ground up after being almost completely wiped off the map in WWII. What has been rebuilt is soviet concrete blocks, ultra modern glass constructions and copies of old buildings that were destroyed. This makes for a strange mix and atmosphere.  I found Warsaw to be a lovely city, it had a fun nightlife, friendly people and delicious food, but something hung in the air here; a sort of emotional scarring that I felt all too aware of as I explored the city.

Marie Curie Museum.

Warsaw is a city of monuments. It felt like everywhere I looked there was a statue to someone who has made Poland proud. Composer Chopin has a monument in a park complete with a musical bench that plays recordings of his work. Scientists, politicians and athletes are also honored at different points around the city. But considering Warsaw’s dark past of oppression, war and occupation, the most monuments are dedicated to heroes of the Warsaw uprising that happened during 1944 when the city was under Nazi and Soviet control. There are also memorials dedicated to the suffering that has taken place within the city limits. A small marking on the pavement marks where the walls of the Jewish Ghetto used to stand and statues dedicated to victims of war dot the city. This is a bit different from the same stuff within a city like Berlin. Whereas the monuments and museums of Berlin seem to be trying to achieve atonement, the ones in Warsaw deal with grief and loss. This of course makes sense with their roles as perpetrators and victims in this era. I guess what I’m trying to convey is the emotions a viewer might feel and the tone of the information being delivered.

Tribute to Chopin.

There is little you can do to escape the scars of WWII in Warsaw; the city lives with the damage it did every day. I did not know very much about the Warsaw uprising except that it happened, so I spent a big chunk of one of my afternoons exploring the Uprising Museum. This very specific museum is dedicated to the uprising movement in Warsaw. It is a movement the people of this country are very proud of, despite its lack of success. Within the museum were countless displays over 3 levels. Stories from group members, film, photography, artifacts and even an exhibition of an artist’s work who lived during the time. As I have felt going through many of these cities affected by WWII, I struggled to fathom how it could have possibly happened. I also bought a ticket to see the digital film that has been created to show the unaware exactly what Warsaw looked like at the end of the war. When I say totally devastated, it really doesn’t match what I saw. shells of buildings, billowing smoke and areas completely flattened. I think the only way they could have improved the film is to add a small section at the start to show how their city looked before the war. The museum was very interesting, but I found the layout to be a bit haphazard and I often got lost or read things out of order. Despite this, the impact of the sacrifices these people made were not lost on me.

I found the very moving and powerful Pawiak prison was the most interesting and emotional of these attractions and monuments. Used as a political prison from as early as the 1850s, the place worked to capacity during WWII when it was used to house Nazi opponents. The prison is mostly destroyed and the remaining parts have been preserved and turned into a museum. Out the front, there is a bronze copy of a tree that sat in the prison yard; known as the silent witness, the dead tree is another monument to the sorrow that occurred here. It is covered in the names of the people who died there. Inside, poetry, artifacts and stories of people who were imprisoned. What really gets to me are the photos. In the museum there was a wall of hundreds of faces. When I look at them it overwhelms me to think of the life they led and the suffering they went through.

The names of victims hung on ‘The Silent Witness’.

But there is more to the place than the events of WWII. In the heart of the city, there is a very special reconstruction. Warsaw’s old town has been rebuilt in its original style, much to the delight of tourists and visitors to the city. The buildings are colourful and many are covered in crazy wallpaper-like patterns. the cobbled streets open up into squares where choirs gather to sing and pigeons bathe in fountains. This fairy-tale wonderland looks gorgeous, but it doesn’t feel authentic. Maybe if I had gone in not knowing it was all rebuilt it would have made a difference, but in many ways it was all a bit too perfect. Stunning to look at though.

Old Town.

We also explored Warsaw’s nightlife by heading to some bars to watch Australia’s World Cup match against Chile – much to the locals’ horror , we headed to a nightclub where confetti fell from the ceiling while you danced (very surreal) and I ate perogies, which I think are my new favourite food. They are delicious cottage cheese and potato filled dumplings covered in caramelized onion and with a dollop of sour cream. Delicious!

Warsaw is such in interesting place. It lives with its past every day, but it is a proud city that has a fun side too. Rebuilding, choosing to go on and also memorializing its heroes on the street and in museums shows a quiet determination to fight on.

Day tripping: Vilnius

From the castle.

We continued on to our 3rd Baltic capital, Vilnius. Capital of Lithuania is on a smaller scale than its fellow Baltic states, but still maintains the old time charm of its neighbours. We drove past many storks making nests, tiny country houses and rolling green hills. Our drive took a detour to a sight known as the hill of crosses. More of a mound, really, but a place where people have left crosses of all shapes and sizes to commemorate loved ones. Lithuania is said to be easily the most religious of the Baltic states and here, it shows. Hundreds of thousands of crosses adorn the hill stacked on top of each other. I am not a religious person, but there was something about the devotion of this sight that moved me.

The hill of crosses.

Our visit to Vilnius started with a walking tour to see its famous sights, Market square, the gates of dawn, the cathedral and more. From here it was obvious to see it is a small city and much less crowded than its Baltic neighbours (which weren’t very busy themselves). Again it was the same cobbled streets of an old town, lots of churches, narrow streets and no-so-intact city walls. One street was a mere metre and a half wide. Buskers roam the street, seemingly all playing Knocking on Heaven’s Door, and there are lots of outdoor cafes, bars and restaurants. There also seemed to be a lot of alternative culture with more blue hair, band t-shirts and loitering youths than I have seen in weeks.

Flying the flag in Market Square.

Outside of the walls of old town is a castle that is perched on top of a hill. Of course, I climbed the hill and was amazed by what I saw. One one side of the river, the gorgeous old town with red roofs and church spires; on the other, a modern city with high rises and modern architecture. I could have stayed up there for ages, but with a storm threatening, I could only admire for a limited time.

New Vilnius.

 

Our day in Vilnius ended with a feast of Lithuanian food, an excellent reprieve after Russia. I had dumplings in creamy sauces, fried cheese and bread dip and potato pancakes with salmon. It was so tasty and completely unhealthy. I loved it. We ate until we were full to bursting, which was of course the perfect time to document the event with a photo. We asked a local to help is out. He obliged. One of the members of our dining party yelled out “cheese”. The young Lithuanian then exclaimed ‘chinksy!’, we returned the favour and yelled it out heartily ourselves. He then gestured to us that he had huge breasts while saying chinsky and therefore revealed what we had yelled so loudly in a crowded restaurant. It was hilarious. Vilinus was not the most exciting of the Baltic capitals, I think I give that honour to Tallinn; but it was a lovely day’s visit. Good views, food and jokes with the locals certainly kept me happy.

Riga: Old meets new meets nouveau.

Riga is small, cheap, cheerful, contrasting and utterly charming.

Old town.

After a measly 3 hours at the border (again, apparently that’s pretty good), we crossed back into the EU and Schengen Zone from Russia into Latvia. Our destination was its capital Riga. An interesting city of contrast. Riga is part old, part new and part art nouveau .

The 3 brothers.

Riga is a good looking city. It has the charming cobbled streets and town squares that I have now come to expect from any place that has an ‘old town’, but Riga’s point of difference is its contrasting styles; art nouveau, medieval and modern all sit comfortably on the same street. The old walls of the city were destroyed, but a few ivy covered guard towers and gates still stand. 3 houses built in the 1600s are near by, as is the headquarters of a merchant group that has a cat perched on its roof . There are lots of small details for those willing to look. And look I did! Wandering around Riga was wonderful and relaxed and I enjoyed many of these small details and the bigger ones like the town’s squares, churches, parks and public buildings. My other favourite thing about Riga was the abundance of flowers that adorn its cafes, restaurants and squares. Beautiful blooms, especially of pansies, were everywhere.

Colourful blooms.

On our first night in town we went for food and I was shocked that the waiter smiled at me and those around me. After a week in Russia, seeing smiling faces is now officially a novelty. The smiles were plentiful around Riga and the delightful Latvian people sometimes break from their smiling to share a joke or give you encouragement with learning the Latvian language. I found the people who I came across to be delightful. This is interesting because like their Baltic friends to the north and the south, the Latvians have been through a lot. Years and years of occupation by Soviets and Nazis had destroyed major parts of the city of Riga and damaged the culture by restricting old traditions and language. I visited the occupation museum, an interesting and informative look back at the eras of occupation and its end. It was a confronting look at the past, but the museum curator made sure all information was delivered in a factual and unbiased way. The spirit of the people is evident in this museum and through the famous ‘Baltic way’, chain of people holding hands that stretched from Tallinn to Vilnius via Riga. I think it perfectly sums up the warmth of the people of the Baltic states. Non-violent protest and a show and strength and unity.

Spot the cat!

In case you haven’t noticed from my photos, I love a good view and I’ve climbed lots of things to get one. This was no church bell tower and was probably the easiest climb, up to the top of the Raddisson Blu hotel to visit the one of the highlights of my time in Riga. The Sky Bar. 26 floors up it offers amazing views of the city. You can really see all of the styles of buildings across the whole city. I sat there and watched the sunset over Riga with a cheap and delicious cocktail in my hand. After that we decided to hit up Riga’s famous nightlife. Which although not my scene, was good fun. Until we went downstairs to do some karaoke, which is entirely my scene. The only downer on the evening was the vast number of prostitutes and scam artists that were accosting the boys who were in our group. It wasn’t dangerous, just annoying; and I guess another way to get some cash out of  the tourists.

Sunset over Riga.

Also around town there was a lovely park with a canal running through it filled with locals sunning themselves. The park also had a range of sculptures and a tree covered in colourful ribbons that had messages written on them. The city’s big squares are filled with pubs, cafes and restaurants with lots of international options. We lots of cuisines from Italian to Mexican, all at really cheap and decent prices. Riga has a good contingent of tourists that frequent it since its admission into the EU and I was told that the prices have risen. I can’t imagine how cheap it would have been previously.

Esplanade park.

It is easy to be charmed by Riga with its beauty, but I think the thing I liked best was the warmth and kindness of its people.

Moscow: Mystery solved.

Moscow is mysterious, iconic, vast, sunny and a dream come true.

inside the Kremlin.

During this trip, and on a few others, I have been lucky enough to see some of the great cities of the world. Places that are famous for being the biggest, grandest cities in the world. Paris, Rome and even others that I won’t make it to on this trip like London and New York are burned onto the pubic consciousness as places to be held up as great examples of the best cities in the world. Hovering just off this list is Moscow. Perhaps because of it’s decades behind the Iron Curtain it remains a mystery or simply off the radar for many travellers and lovers of big cities. I could have stayed weeks in Moscow, discovering its sights and learning more about what makes the city tick. My 3 hot days in Moscow were an exciting mix of culture, entertainment and iconic sights.

Memorial park.

There are few moments I can compare to how I felt upon entering the famous Red Square. Like seeing the Eiffel tower a few weeks ago, or seeing Christ the Redeemer in Rio a few years ago. This was a truly special travel moment for me. St Basil’s coloured domes were just as luxe and fabulous as I imagined, building was intricate and grand, Gum was the ritzy mall I’ve imagined it to be and the Kremlin walls hover high above your head. It was simply beautiful. Also in the square is Lenin’s Mausoleum. Where we lined up, walked past the graves of many of his comrades and walked down into a cold and dark room. here we moved quickly around a glass case that houses the former Soviet leader. This was one of the stranger experiences I have had. The waxy figure has been dead for close to 90 years but it disturbingly well-preserved. Conspiracy maybe? in any case, the government is looking to actually grant his wish of burial very soon and this might be one of the last chances to see him. In any case it made me feel awkward and fascinated all at the same time. We also toured the Kremlin and its many churches, squares and palaces. It was amazing to think I was inside the Kremlin stronghold. Something I never dreamed possible.

St Basil’s.

Exploring the city we came across many great sights in our time in the city. Everything from the lake where Tchaikovsky is said to have written Swan Lake to the church that Pussy Riot ‘defiled’, as our guide called it. It is amazing to me that a place so hidden away from the world for so long could still be so iconic and influential. Also in my travels I went to a sculpture park that featured many old Soviet statues and monuments that once littered the city. busts of leaders like Lenin, Stalin and Krushev and now nestled in a garden alongside modern art works and tributes to those who suffered under their regimes. I spent a good chunk of time in this park, admiring, relaxing and watching the Moscovites bike ride and rolled blade past. It was a warm day so I parked myself under a tree next to a piece called ‘an argument’ and watched the world go by.

Old icons in the sculpture park.

However, these soviet artworks are not confined to this park. I was amazed by the intricate detail and simply stunning art that lives below everyone’s feet. The Moscow underground. We toured the underground with our regular guide and another guide. I went with the newer one, a sweet older lady with a gentle voice and manner who spoke to us with kindness and answered all of our questions about the Soviet era and her Grandmother’s experience in WWII. In the metro system there is a number of stations that were built before and after WWII. Most of them have sculptures, stained glass, mosaics, ceiling roses and chandeliers. Most of them are shining examples of soviet propaganda; with common motifs of workers and farmers united and, of course, the hammer and sickle. It’s certainly not the drab 70s styled tiles and grime of my city’s 4 station underground network. This feels fit for a king, or maybe even a Tsar.

In the metro.

I was also lucky enough to see some internationally renowned performances in Moscow. One was the Bolshoi Ballet, the other was the Moscow circus. When I was a little girl my mother, knowing I would end up being quite tall, put me into ballet classes, which I attended for about 5 years until my abilities did not keep up with the skills. Despite never being the best dancer in the class I always wanted to be a ballerina. So when I was about 8 the Bolshoi came and did a performance in Melbourne, I was so thrilled. I felt just like that little girl when I walked into the stunning Bolshoi theatre. gold, red and grand beyond belief. Chandeliers, gold leaf and red velvet chairs. It felt much fancier than anything I should have been allowed to attend. The ballet itself was an amazing spectacle. We saw Le Corsaire, about some swashbuckling pirates and their crafty girlfriends. It was some of the finest dancing I have ever seen. The circus on the other hand was not something I would recommend. I found it to be old fashioned and cruel. As we walked in to my left was a muzzled bear with a ruffled collar, two dalmations and a small monkey. To the right was a heavily sedated tiger whose handler was tugging on its chin to wake it up. In front was a variety of small animals like arctic foxes, cotis, more monkeys and cats wearing bow ties. 25 Euros for a photo with each. I found it cruel and exploitative. The show continued the theme with a starving baby bear being lead around by a clown, a seal show and one of the cruelest big cat shows I’ve ever seen. Luckily this was only a small part of the show and amazing acrobats, jugglers, quick change artists and clowns lightened the mood. Hopefully the circus will realise soon that it doesn’t need animals for its show and it is actually a better performance without them; but considering the packed house we were a part of, probably not.

The circus.

As we left the city we stopped overnight in a small town called Veire Luki. Luckily for us, that night also coincided with a massive hot air balloon festival and we sat in the car park at sunset (about 10pm) and watched 30 or so baloons float around above our heads. It was beautiful and an amazing way to end my Russian revelations.

Day tripping: Novgorod.

In between St. Petersburg and Moscow we spent an afternoon in a small city called Novgorod. Home to a Kremlin, a beach and some interesting hangovers from the soviet era.

The Volkhov River.

We left St. Petersburg with a new Russian guide. this time an older woman with a gruff exterior but some dynamite gags and big opinions. As i mentioned in my St. Petersburg entry it is a requirement that we are taken around and given a local perspective by a Russian person. She is not backwards in coming forwards with her political opinions and the fact that she really dislikes a lot of things like rock music, Russian roads and especially the mayor of Moscow, whom she seemed to have some personal vendetta against. Despite this, she really did make me laugh and her intelligence and knowledge was amazing.

The Cathedral of Holy Wisdom.

Novgorod is a small place, it has the concrete communist housing and the layer of grime that seems ever-present in all Russian cities. As well as this it seems to have a lot more Soviet-inspired architecture. Like many other parts of Russia, Novgorod suffered during WWII and had to be rebuilt. Those concrete apartment blocks were the order of the day and there are other things around the city like statues to Lenin and an extremely strange and futuristic theatre. The theatre is a strange building with odd shapes and silhouettes created out of white-ish/grey, you guessed it, concrete. It is futuristic but some how very 80s. The building is unfinished and abandoned. Overgrown weeds peek through the concrete and the build up of grime is starting to take over.

The abandoned theatre.

Other than this there is a quiet old town. Here you will find a number of Russian churches. One place even has 3 of them lined up in a row. There is also a lush park, with fountains, statues and a dense forest of trees; this is where the people of Novgorod come to relax. There are a lot of things happening here that I was not quite prepared for, like people who keep wild animals like Monkeys and Cotis as pets and parade them around the park. It is so strange to me that I have to stop myself staring at the poor animals wearing suits and ties and being poked, prodded and held awkwardly by their ‘owners’. It seems animal liberation is yet to catch up with our Russian friends. There is also a Kremlin, which I always thought meant parliament, but in fact means fortress. inside the high red brick walls walls is a beautiful old orthodox church called The Cathedral of Holy Wisdom. again, a stunning example of art and architecture in the Russian Orthodox style. Frescoes adorn the walls and there are a number of relics. I was amazed that after the Soviet era many of these things survived and are now able to be enjoyed by devotees and gawking tourists like me. Also inside the Kremlin was an interesting collection of bells, a statue dedicated to 1000 years of Russia that featured some of the country’s favourite sons and a number of towers that run along the Kremlin’s high walls. Walking around in here was completely different to what was on the outside walls. On one side there was a beach on the Volkhov River with locals cooling off from the 30 degree day; on the other, more Soviet-style high rises. It was a crazy contrast.

The Kremlin walls

Novgorod was an interesting place to stop because it allowed me to see a bit more of the real Russia and not be swallowed up by the big city. It was not the most riveting of towns, but i appreciated it’s quietness and the glimpse it gave me into the real Russia that exists outside of its big cities.

St. Petersburg: A grand old dame.

St. Petersburg is grand, imperial, beautiful, fascinating and stuck in a bygone era.

The Neva.

The whole reason I jumped on my tour was for safe passage into Russia. After studying the Russian revolution at school I have always been interested in the place and I knew any Euro trip I did needed to visit the mysterious place. My peek behind the iron curtain happened long before I stepped on to the plane in the middle of March though, because getting my Russian visa was one of the single most painful exercises in my life. The process is long and drawn out and involved me having my highly detailed visa application sent back to me several times and my passport not returning to my hot little hands until the Friday morning before I left on the Sunday night. It involved literally hundreds of calls to the consulate who refuse to speak in English before 3pm – and that’s if they answer the phone –  and a large amount of unwanted stress on my part. Of course the issues do not stop here, as getting the visa is only the first step in the process. You must then get through the border. We were warned that this was a long process and could possibly take several hours. The border checkpoint between Estonia and Russia is an interesting looking place. It is lush and green and dotted with houses and a large fortress. The buildings are old, dour and smelly. The border officers uphold the classic Russian stereotype of not smiling. Ever. Luckily for us, we moved swiftly through and made it from Estonia to Mother Russia in a bit over 2 hours. Apparently this is pretty decent and some coaches have sat there for most of the day as officers decide to go on lunch and leave coaches of tourists stranded in literal no-man’s land. At this point the happy, jovial people on the tour suddenly became quite serious and all jokes were put aside until we hit the other side of the border and broke a Russian law in the first 5 minutes by playing a Pussy Riot song. Even with all of the drama of getting in, I am here and it feels amazing. Like I’ve said before issues are quickly forgotten when you travel and you can truly enjoy moments.

From St. Isaacs.

Upon arriving in St. Petersburg proper we quickly acquired our very own local guide. She was a gorgeous Russian woman of about my age with a sunny disposition, a bundle of information and delightful quirks in her English. She took us on a 4 hour city tour, a sunset boat cruise, out to dinners, folk shows, The Peter and Paul fortress, The Hermitage, for a hydrofoil ride and to The Summer Palace at Petergof. This is a requirement in Russia, that a local takes you around. They are full of information and are able to give a Russian perspective on events. For me, this has pros and cons. Having a local’s outlook is good, as I am sure I have a biased and westernized view of Russia. She was also very open to answer questions if she could. The cons are that I don’t think they have the best working conditions and/or pay. Also, we seemed to be doing things with every other tourist who was in St. Petersburg and chances for quiet reflection and taking your own time to come to an understanding were few. We also had another guide assist her when we split in two inside the fortress and the Hermitage who was equally as delightful with some awesome turns of phrase. I quickly realised the times that were important to St. Petersburg was imperial times and WWII. This was the history that our guide focused on, not Soviet history; which I found frustrating because that’s where my interest lies. But it never seemed to come up. Even when we went to the political prison that imprisoned former Soviet Kingpin Leon Trotsky, I had to press the guide on information about how long he was held in the prison. However, I did learn a great deal about how the Russians suffered during WWII with starvation, the cold and the Nazi army closing in.

The Bronze Horseman.

As well as the war, The it is mainly the Tsars and Tsarinas who are the main attractions here, not Lenin and his Comrades. The most wonderful place for all this history is, of course, The Hermitage; Russia’s largest and grandest art gallery. Its version of the Louvre. A collection of art, sculpture and artifacts from all over the world. Rembrandt, Monet, Da Vinci, Picasso, Goya, Raphael and Matisse are just a few of the names covered in the collection. Millions of pieces hang and sit in the gallery, which was once the Tsar’s winter palace. This means, that like the Louvre or the Vatican museums the building is just as interesting as the works it contains. Ebony and ivory floors, mosaics, painted roofs, ceiling roses and lots of gold leaf are the order of the day. The place is stunning to look at and surprisingly has been kept in tact; despite it being the place that the October Revolution of 1917 began in, when the Red Army stormed it and claimed power from the provisional government.

Inside The Hermitage.

We also toured the summer palace. A short hydrofoil trip from the city centre takes you out to Peterhof. A small town that was once the residence of Russian Royalty for 6 months a year. The palace is set on the water and there is hundreds of golden fountains spurting to the sky. Bridges, gardens and sculptures adorn the garden that is filled with tourists snapping pictures and local families who have come to beat the heat by playing in the fountains. We did not go inside the palace. We got that fix from the Hermitage; but that’s OK because the gardens were impressive enough. All of these places are remarkably well preserved and restored given what has happened in the city.

The Summer Palace.

St. Petersburg is the grand city that I thought it would be. Unlike the city limits, which are grimy and ugly apartment blocks, The city centre is a beautiful and romantic place. The buildings, some painted in soft and muted colours, never really get to tall. They are embellished with gorgeous decorations that stand out painted in white. The city itself is only 311 years old, but it seems much older. Palaces, churches and the buildings that sit on Nevsky Prospekt and the River Neva all have an old world charm that they really have no right to have, considering how new they actually are. The city is also dotted with monuments to heroes of war and pretty parks which only add to the romance. St. Petersburg is a place of tradition, of the old ‘white Russia’. It embraces its past with both hands. An example of this would be of a live performance we saw that featured Cossack dancers, traditional costumes and singing army members (not as strange as it sounds). The audience at the show was a mixture of tourists and Russians. The Russian contingent was delighted by the songs and many sang along with gusto. It was so wonderful to experience a culture’s traditions of dance and song. Another tradition in the city is the ‘white nights’.  We enjoyed the sunset on a river cruise that left at about 10pm because the sun sets around 11pm, but the sky never gets fully dark. Overnight is a perpetual twilight. I sat out enjoying the white night in the garden of our hotel to the wee hours by myself one night. It was so quiet and peaceful. Although it wasn’t quite midnight sun, it was still very special. The late night sunsets and very early morning rises have taken some adjustment.

The Church of Our Saviour on The Spilled Blood.

When travelling around Asia, many people describe what is known as temple fatigue. Seeing too many temples to the point that you don’t want to see any more. As I am coming up to 3 months in Europe, it is safe to say I had a serious case of church fatigue. I have had 3 months of Catholic churches of Italy, cathedrals in France, Protestant reformation churches in The Netherlands and quirky churches with interesting icons Bruges. Unfortunately, despite their beauty, many of these places began to blur into one. So, a visit to St. Issacs and The Church of our Saviour on the Spilled Blood were only semi interesting to me. Until I walked inside of course and was blown away by the beauty of both. St. Isaac’s was covered in marble, frescoes and huge chandeliers. We also climbed to the top for amazing city views. Inside The Church of Our Saviour on the Spilled Blood the walls were completely covered in hundreds of mosaics depicting important figures in the church. The mosaics towered above your head and into the domes above. Every inch of the wall space and roof was covered. A sea of golds and blues created a great colour contrast too. My fatigue has been cured! We were also able to visit the church inside Peter and Paul fortress which although not as beautiful, was just as interesting as it is the place that the Tsars and their families are buried.

St. Isaac’s

So my first peek behind the iron curtain has revealed a timeless and elegant city; royalty, monuments, palaces and white nights. It is a truly wonderful city. Well worth the pain and suffering of getting that damn visa!

Tallinn: The tale of two towns.

Tallinn is delightful, old fashioned, touristy, beautiful and in my opinion, better than Bruges.

On top Of St. Olaf’s

After an overnight ferry on some sort of floating casino/nightclub/restaurant called ‘The Baltic Queen’, we arrived in Tallinn from Stockholm. You’ll be happy to know that the 14 hours on this ferry was much more successful than the 1 and a half hours I spent vomiting from Germany to Denmark. I barely needed to take travel sickness meds, the ride was so smooth. The ferry was equipped with a supermarket, several bars, a pub, evening entertainment, several restaurants and some beautiful views of my last glimpses of Sweden. It was glitzy, it was tacky but I got a great night’s sleep, so who am I to complain?

The winding streets

Tallinn’s old town, part of the capital of Estonia is a medieval wonderland. A charming step back in time, where you can climb the fortification walls, see people walking around in medieval costumes and trip over cobblestones all day long. The old town is divided into two spots. Up on the hill is the palace and the stunning and infamous Alexander Nevsky cathedral. This Russian orthodox cathedral was built on the grave site of an Estonian hero as a muscle flexing exercise by the occupying Russians. Next door to the catherdral is the palace and come quaint gardens. The view from the top looking down on the lower town is stunning. As you wander down the hill there is more action. Down is the lower town, here you can find the winding streets, charming pastel coloured buildings and imposing structures like the town hall and the St. Olaf’s church. We climbed the narrow winding staircase of St. Olaf’s for a view over the whole old town and new town of Tallinn. Despite the old town having all the medieval charm in the world, the new town is a hangover from the Russian occupation and Estonia’s absorption into the USSR. Concrete block apartments with more dirt and grime and less charm than the ones I saw in Berlin. Also, the sound of seagulls reminds you who close you are to the ocean. Tallinn’s proximity to Finland, Sweden and Russia have made it a major trade point for centuries.

Alexander Nevsky Cathedral

The town hall is set in the town square, home of a bakery and pharmacy that have been running continuously since medieval times. I got an apple pie from the bakery and it was delicious. Luckily for us, our day in Tallinn coincided with a set of performances in the town square by a local orchestra, dance troop and a range of bands. It was so nice to walk around with the music playing in the background. When they started on my favourite, musical scores from films, I think i lost my mind slightly. Their rendition of the Lord of the Rings theme was flawless.

The main square.

Tallinn’s old town was a great place to visit because you can easily walk from one side to the other (and we did this several times), entrance fees and delicious food are cheap in comparison to another medieval throwback, Bruges. It was only 2 euro to climb St Olaf’s, 3 Euro to walk along the city’s medieval fortifications, 5 Euro for coffee and cake and 15 Euro for a 2 course dinner and drinks. Although the place is pumping with tourists, it is not over-crowded and there is always a quiet street to wander down and explore. The walls around the old town really do enclose it and keep things like development away. That’s not to say the people of Tallinn aren’t capitalising on this little gem of a place they have in their capital. People wander the streets in Medieval garb and popular attractions include an authentic medieval themed restaurant with no electricity, a recreated torture chamber and stores that ask for ‘gold coins’ instead of Euros.

Medieval houses.

There are souvenir shops, restaurants and all the things tourists need, but somehow, it doesn’t feels like you’re in a tourist town. In Bruges it did feel that way, but in Tallinn you can forget where you are and enjoy your own little medieval world.

Stockholm: victim of circumstance.

Stockholm is elegant, expensive, grand, clean and in the middle of a downpour.

Old Town.

The next destination of the Scandinavian leg of the trek is the so-called ‘capital’ of Scanidinavia, Stockholm. A beautiful city set amongst several islands on an archipelago. Grand old buildings are surrounded by clean, blue water. Boats cruise in between areas and the city is connected by bridges, so it’s not too hard to get around. unless of course it’s constantly raining for your whole visit. Like it was for mine.

Rainy days.

Yes, I know, ‘travel is what you make it’ and ‘you shouldn’t sweat the small stuff’, but a couple of issues really affected my time in Stockholm. Especially considering we had so short of a time there. The constant rain put a dampener (yes, pun intended) on most of the activities I had planned like boat rides, walking around parks and gardens and watching the changing of the guard. The rain was constant for my first day and was off-and-on for the second. The weekend of my visit was also time that the Stockholm marathon took place, so the streets were cut off for the event. This means that although I could see how great Stockholm is, I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as it deserved. It is an elegant city with grand buildings and tonnes of style. The Royal palace and the parliament are two stunning structures that tower of the city.

Stockholm Cathedral.

That being said, we still moved around the city as quickly as possible. We toured the city hall, home of the crazy after-party for the Nobel Prizes. Seeing dining halls, gold mosaic rooms and enjoying the unexpected jokes of our robotic tour guide. We tried to see the changing of the guard at the city’s royal palace through a sea of umbrellas. Unsuccessfully. When the rain was light enough to walk around in I explored the old town, Gamla Stan. Here is the classic winding cobblestone streets of medieval Europe, with one street that is only 90cms wide. The area is dotted with brightly coloured houses in yellows, oranges and reds and with grand old churches with enormous spires. It looked amazing, especially from across the water.

Town Hall.

Obviously, indoors was the place to be on days like this, and although expensive, the museums were great. The first museum stop was to see the famed Vasa. The Vasa was a Swedish war ship built and launched in the 1620s. Unfortunately for the crew, it was too heavily decorated and sunk about a kilometre into its maiden voyage. The ship itself was salvaged from the ocean floor and 98% of its original form sits proudly in the middle of the museum. It was massive and stunning. gasps and noises of awe could be heard from all over the museum. You could still see amazing detail in some of the decorations that brought it undone. As interesting as the Vasa was, The real museum highlight was the ABBA museum at the Swedish music hall of fame. This place was more than a museum, it took you through the band’s history but also had interactive exhibitions like karaoke, quizzes, virtual costume try-ons, music clips and even the chance to get up on stage in front of your fellow ABBA lovers and belt out a tune with computer generated images of the band. I was in some sort of cheesy music heaven. I think the best bit was how much people just love ABBA. Adults, kids and everyone in between were walking around with big smiles on their faces and singing the songs.

The back of the Vasa.

All the legends about the expense in Scandinavia are true. We went out to a bar one evening and were spending $10AU on beers and $8AU to check our coats. Even my favourite Swedish food, tiny, tiny cinnamon buns cost about $3AU each from service stops. Luckily, many of our meals were made by the Top Deck chef, so not only were they delicious it meant our few days in Scandinavia didn’t eat a hole in the budget as much as it could of. Until I spent it all on beer of course. Speaking of Top Deck, the tour group and our tour leader continue to impress me. The group is so fun that even after a week, I miss the ones we left as they headed up to Oslo and us to Tallinn. Our tour leader works so hard and finds solutions. Despite my original whinge about feeling rushed, moving around quickly is becoming easier. I still feel like I could do so much more, but now I am cramming my days full to the brim. This is easy though, as the days are long and the sunshine lasts for the majority of the day. The sun is shining bright on my face in the morning at about 5am, it does not go down until 10 or 11pm. In fact, as I write this blog entry at 11pm at night it is still light outside. On our night out in the city, the sun was rising as we left. Not because I am some sort of unstoppable party animal, but just because the sun begins to rise at about 3am.

On the water.

A lot of the space in Stockholm is ‘green’. Which means the outskirts of the city are encircled with lush woods. We camped (in cabins) outside the city, which was nice. I have been city hopping and at this point of my trip my favourite thing I did in Stockholm was sit on the side of the lake near our campsite and enjoy the 10 minutes of sun we had before the heavens opened again.

The forest around Stockholm.

Stockholm had all the elegance and style to impress unfortunately, circumstances meant I didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have. Although I forgot the rain when I was doing ABBA karaoke.

Copenhagen: friendly old girl of the sea

Copenhagen is expensive, flat, relaxed, quaint and clean.

The Royal Palace.

When I was little I had a few films that I played on repeat: Grease, Black Beauty and a few other late 80s classics. However, I’m sure I drove my parents quite mad with my love of one particular film, a (probably not historically accurate) musical version of the life of Danish fairy tale author Hans Christian Andersen. In the opening of the film, Hans sings about “wonderful” Copenhagen, who he calls “the friendly old girl of the sea”. I knew, even then, that one day I’d like to see this “old girl” that he was singing about. As an adult, even with other details of the film fading into obscurity, I remember the song and that I wanted to see this place. Now that I have I can write my own ode to wonderful Copenhagen, not in song, but on my blog.

Nyhavn.

At this stage of my adventure I have joined a group tour. They were the easiest way for me to get into Russia and the tour, which snakes through Scandinavia, The Baltic States and Poland as well, was a good fit. I was apprehensive about joining a group tour; I have been fairly independent up to this point and wasn’t sure how I would cope with structure. But, with my partner in crime safely back home I was craving some company and conversation. On this, the tour has delivered. This trip is mostly solo travellers, meaning most people are up for a chat and a laugh. As most of these tours are filled with Australians, it even means I get a nice feeling of home. So far, the staff on the tour are funny, informed and kind. This has made the experience a fun one and meeting a tonne of new people has been great. However, I am feeling a little rushed. 1 and a half days in Copenhagen wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t get a chance to be in the city, know its quirks and understand the way its people behave in such a short time. With a tour like this you can only really get a snapshot. So, I fear, my descriptions and observations may not be as apt as in previous entries.

The King’s Garden.

We drove north from Berlin to the port town of Rostock The ferry ride from here to Denmark was one of the roughest I have ever endured. No amount of trips on the Australian classic ‘The Spirit of Tasmania’, could have prepared me for what was 90 minutes of hell. The Baltic sea was so rough on the day we travelled that people could barely walk around the ship and, embarrassingly, I vomited twice. What a great impression of me for my new friends! At one point there was an older lady of about 70 who was on the ferry, she couldn’t stand or walk and was yelling quite loudly in Danish. She was coming out of the bathroom with her son helping her when the ship suddenly shook, so there I was, in front of the bathroom with one hand over my mouth about to throw up and another trying to help the lady and her son not fall in a heap as the shipped swayed from side to side. I’m sure it was quite hilarious to see, in fact one of the girls who was on my tour assured me it was. When we reached dry land we were met with lush fields charming cottages and flat lakes. Denmark is really beautiful. The city itself is an interesting contrast. It is mostly low rise and there is not a skyscraper to be seen. The old buildings like the stock exchange and the town hall are red bricked, green roofed and adorned in decorations like statures. The new buildings, like the Royal Library, however, are mostly stark, boxy and made of glass. They sit side by side in perfect harmony. The streets are flat and are filled with enough cyclists to rival Amsterdam who ride around at a much more relaxed and friendly pace. There is lots of building works in many places, not restoration works that have been the norm in most European cities, but new constructions. Copenhagen is a city on the move, one who is not afraid to embrace the modern and the past at the same time.

Town Hall.

No trip to Copenhagen would be complete without a trip to see the statue of The Little Mermaid. The Hans Christian Andersen character’s form is perched on top of a rock out on the water in the north of the city. Yes, she is small and probably not overly impressive as a statue; but there was something really special about seeing it. She is the symbol of the city and personally, despite how kitsch it is, I loved it. We were able to visit at dusk (about 10pm here) when the hoards of tourists and the people selling replica statues have gone for the day. Being there when it was quiet and being able to admire her with just the sounds of the waters of the bay hitting the rocks made it even nicer. In fact, this relaxed and nice feeling continued at many of the other sights. I saw 3 royal palaces, where I saw the changing of the guard, royal horses and lush royal gardens. I saw the colourful houses of the Nyhavn where ships and boats from many eras are permanently docked. I cruised around the bays and harbours of the city in a boat and had to duck my head as we went under bridges. I sat in King’s park and watched it fill with school students playing soccer and carting around boom boxes. I ate a Danish hot dog with pickles, onions, mustard and sauce and, as you would expect, a custard danish.

The Little Mermaid.

In contrast to the other sights is the community of Christiania, a former hippy commune and squat that is now a ‘green light zone’ that you guessed it, sells a lot of green. The police turn a blind eye and the people have not been asked to move on. Considering they have been there since the 70s, I’m guessing it won’t happen now. Here you cannot take photos of the amazing street art or anything inside the community’s walls as they don’t want evidence of their activities on film. Walls are filled with amazing art, vendors sell drug paraphernalia right next to souvenir t-shirts and the odour of pot fills the air. This place is nothing like the rest of Copenhagen and one of the only places I saw some slightly sketchy looking characters. Not that they bothered anyone, they just didn’t act in the same open and warm way other Danes did while I was there. This warmth was apparent from the 3 locals who saw us looking a bit lost and directed us to some delicious smørrebrød (a sort of Danish open sandwich or bruschetta). They do say people in Scandinavian countries are most content with their lives and it shows. No one seems to be rushing, the women are very natural looking and don’t seem to wear huge amounts of make up and people smile at you, just because.

The best hot dog ever.

One evening was spent at the most classic of Copenhagen activities, spending the night amusing ourselves at the Tivoli Gardens. Tivoli gardens is an amusement park in the middle of the city, right across from the town hall. Inside the walls of the park there are rides, resteraunts, bars, carnival games, concerts and people of all ages having a great time. The Tivoli gardens are an institution. They were opened in the 1860s and are said to be Walt Disney’s inspiration for Disneyland. You can see why Walt was impressed. The fairy lights that light up the buildings and garden have a magical quality. The place is a sea of bright colors. The people who maintain Tivoli have done an excellent job of maintaining its quaint turn of the century charm. it really does feel as if you’ve stepped back in time to a place with a pagoda, a Taj Mahal styled palace and a pantomime theatre that are all relics of the past.

Tivoli Gardens.

As we departed on a much smoother ferry from Helsingør, I saw Hamlet’s castle which sits on the water’s edge. An awesome way to say goodbye to an all to short trip to Denmark.

Hamlet’s Castle.