We were so busy in Russia I had no time for blog entries, so this post is being made from Finland based on recollections of our six days there.

Earlier, I wrote of first impressions, so it seems fitting to end with last impressions of Russia.

But first, let me recount our experience as tourists. Our days were crammed full of museums, palaces, and cathedrals. We toured the Russian Museum, the Hermitage Museum, the Peterhof Grand Palace, the Church of the Spilt Blood, St. Isaac’s Cathedral, St. Nicholas’ Cathedral, and the Yusopov Palace. Some we toured on our own, others were led by Russian tour guides. In between tours, we walked endless miles through narrow streets and grand boulevards, along broad river walks and narrow canal embankments. We took a canal boat excursion through the city center and a hydrofoil express to Peterhof.

Along the way, we learned all about St. Petersburg:
• Founded by Tsar Peter I of Russia on May 27, 1703, it was the capital of the Russian Empire for more than two hundred years (1713–1728, 1732–1918).
• Second largest city after Moscow with 4.6 million inhabitants, and fourth in Europe after Istanbul, London and Moscow
• Saint Petersburg is home to The Hermitage, the largest art museum in the world with 3.5 million pieces.
• It would take eight years to view all Hermitage museum pieces for one minute each.
• With the start of World War I, the name Saint Petersburg was perceived to be too German, so in 1914 the city was renamed Petrograd.
• In 1917 the February Revolution, which put an end to the Russian monarchy, and the October Revolution, which ultimately brought Vladimir Lenin to power, broke out in Petrograd.
• On January 26, 1924, three days after Lenin's death, Petrograd was renamed Leningrad.
• During World War II, Leningrad was besieged by Nazi Germany for 872 days from September 1941 to January 1944. More than one million civilians died, mostly from starvation.
• Saint Petersburg is the second largest city in Russia. The 2002 census recorded a population of 4,661,219, or 3.21% of the total population of Russia.
• The 2002 census recorded twenty-two ethnic groups of more than two thousand persons each. The ethnic composition was: Russian 84.72%, Ukrainian 1.87%, Belarusians 1.17%, Jewish 0.78%, Tatar 0.76%, Armenian 0.41%, Azeri 0.36%, Georgian 0.22%, Chuvash 0.13%, and Polish 0.10%.
• The area of Saint Petersburg city proper is 605.8 km2 (233.9 sq mi).
• By the end of 1991 the deteriorating planned economy of the collapsing Soviet Union had put the city on the verge of starvation. For the first time since World War II food rationing was introduced, and the city received humanitarian food aid from abroad.
• More than any other city in Russia, St. Petersburg has been at the epicenter of populist rebellions against the ruling class, a persistent element of Russian culture.

Late each afternoon, we would return to our small boutique hotel, the Casa Leto, for quiet time. Our hotel was in the city center off the Nevsky Prospect just two blocks from the Neva River, the Hermitage, and St. Isaac’s Cathedral. Access was through a non-descript door which opened to a rather seedy looking stairway up to the second floor entrance. Once through this door, we were greeted warmly to comfortable accommodation by first rate staff. Our party occupied three of the five rooms, so we pretty much had the run of the place.

After rest, we emerged from the Casa Leto around 8 p.m. each evening for a dinner excursion. With the help of the Casa Leto staff, we chose some wonderful restaurants for sumptuous meals of traditional Russian fare, including beef stroganoff and authentic Georgian dishes. After dinner, we strolled the streets until after sunset at 11 p.m. Then, we’d return to Casa Leto for sleep before resuming our hard tourist work the next morning.

At the end of six days, it was time to go. Though the museums, palaces, architecture, hotel, restaurants, and public spaces were magnificent, in the end something seemed a bit off about the place. At first, it was hard to put my finger on it, but then it struck me. It was the people and the culture they endured.

Culture is hard to describe, but the Russians seem to have a corner on dismal. In the words of Irina, a Russian friend of one of Jocelyn’s book group cohorts who met us one evening for beers, “All Russians are pessimists. In every situation, the worst case scenario is the expected outcome.”

Both she and one of our tour guides described every day corruption affecting their lives, from paying bribes for driver’s license renewals to expecting predictable results in national elections. The tour guide candidly referred to their government leaders as “criminals.” When I asked if she meant they were corrupt, she said, “No. They are murderers,” in such a way that it was clear she was dead serious.

It wasn’t just these comments that contributed to a sense of oppressiveness. It seemed an inordinate number of police and men in military uniforms patrolled the streets. Yet, an advisory in the hotel guest guide warned “if you are robbed, the police are not the best people to ask for help. Call us (the hotel staff) and we will tell you what to do.” One could only conclude that the police were corrupt.

Another element of street life cheapened the place. Everywhere, young women with painted faces, sexy dresses, and high heels roamed day and night in groups of two, three, and four. While some in my group viewed this as typical of European cities, I did not see these displays in Goteborg, Copenhagen, Gdansk, or Helsinki. Only here did young women dress themselves as sex objects, playing right into the Russian male chauvinist psyche.

Before coming here, a friend had warned Jocelyn not to be surprised to see drunken Russian men on the streets of St. Petersburg. And indeed, before we left we saw drunks falling down in the streets in broad daylight, with no one bothering to check on them.

And so my principal feeling – my final impression of Russia – once we crossed the border back into Finland was one of relief. No longer need I avoid approaching a policeman for help. No longer would I feel the same sense of sleaziness infused by tawdry St. Petersburg women and alcoholic Russian men roaming the streets. No longer would I breathe the same oppressive air as the Russian people who must pay bribes for routine public services. Now, the view out the train window was of clean, functioning factories and modern shopping malls, not abandoned buildings and vacant lots. Now, we could relax, knowing we were free to be who we wanted to be, go where we wanted to go.

Even though it was only six days, in the end it was the oppressiveness of the place that overwhelmed. It wasn’t only the heat wave we endured while there. It was the cold reality of the modern Russian culture that left its mark.