Yes we're still managing to update every day. It's probably a sign of the added maturity this trip has brought to our characters. Now excuse me if I type this quickly, but my flying pig awaits me so we may fly into the sunset.

Wednesday 31st August 2011

  More hardcore touristing today, by which I mean wandering the streets of a foreign city and refusing to pay for entry anywhere. Having said that, St. Petersburg doesn't feel too foreign, partly due to its pleasant European architecture and cobbled streets, partly due to it deciding to make us feel at home on the last day of summer by raining on us*.
 Our initial destination was the star-shaped Fortress of Peter and Paul, which we reasoned ought to keep us busy for much of the day. Unfortunately, while entry to the large site itself was free of charge, most of the potentially interesting buildings and museums within were not. As such, we explored in the rain for a bit before deciding to explore the rather unavoidable SS Peter & Paul Cathedral, which had been leering over us with its enormous gold steeple for some time. Predictably, there was an entry fee, but just as we were moving on we were subject to what I can only assume was divine intervention from a benevolent watcher wishing to shelter us from the penetrating precipitation: an otherwise inconspicuous door in the side of the building eased open to eject a trio of tourists into the liquid misery of the great outdoors, presenting an opportunity for us to sneak inside, which we readily did. The inside of the cathedral was more or less what we've come to expect from large Orthodox churches, with vast columns of marble liberally smattered with gold, although this particular cathedral also houses the tombs of several tsars. We all agreed this was the most tsars we'd ever been in a room with, and having suitably admired the architecture, we once more set forth into the elements.
  Now, I genuinely have no idea how he does it, but take Simon anywhere historical and you will inevitably end up admiring some artillery. Maybe he has some sort of internal compass. Anyway, as we continued our explorations of the fort, we rounded a corner to come face to face with some anti-aircraft guns. Cue clambering, prodding and general boyish amusement. Skipping forward about half an hour for the purpose of the narrative, we emerged from the fort only for Simon to instantly spot the nearby Artillery Museum. You really couldn't make this up. Still, we decided to postpone lots and lots of guns until we'd had some food and wandered around marginally less interesting or costly tourist attractions,  partly due to our collective hunger but also because Simon feared that if we were to allow him to enter, it would be many hours before he emerged. As such, we found a burger bar for lunch before carrying on through the menacingly moist conditions. Along our travels we came across a rather impressive mosque, which as a religious building in Russia was refreshing for its relatively modest use of gold. Trudging onwards through a plethora of puddles, we arrived at the military cruiser Aurora, one of the few remaining vessels from the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5. While we admired the vessel in her docking, I couldn't help but feel smug as passing tourist groups huddled around tour guides, as Simon is far more interesting than any tour guide I've ever encountered, and is best of all free.
  Despite my vast literary prowess I am running out of witty synonyms for "we walked for a period of time admiring various aesthetically alluring examples of architecture", but I'm afraid that's exactly what we did for the rest of the afternoon. Following a brief return to the Artillery Museum, we embarked on a leisurely stroll back towards the hostel, and once we'd crossed the river we found ourselves within close proximity of both the Marble and Summer Palaces. Much as I'd like to wax lyrical about these majestic buildings, I'm going to be honest and say it's actually bloody hard to differentiate them from their neighbours, as if there's one thing that the architects of St. Petersburg and their aristocratic employers seemed to enjoy above all things, it's building impressive houses. The sheer number simply means that after a while you stop noticing them.
  The final point on our route back to the hostel was a stretch through the Mars Field, which was wonderfully calm after walking alongside congested traffic for about half a mile. In the centre of said field sits an eternal flame, which burns in memory of the victims of the 1917 revolution and resulting civil war, and offered us a moment's reflection before we walked on to the hostel for dinner, relaxation and bed. And also blog-writing.

DOD: Tim, for blindly blundering into a deceptively deep puddle, much to the amusement of the others.

Tomorrow's our final full day abroad! A special post will await you tomorrow evening, loyal readers.

*Please note that I may have exaggerated the effects of said rain throughout this piece for dramatic effect.