Russia 2015: A trip back in time to Oranienbaum and Palace Square

Oranienbaum is a UNESCO Heritage Site just west of St. Petersburg on the Gulf of Finland. The town of Lomonosov has groun up around it. Natasha and I decide take the train from Baltiskiy Station and spent a couple of hours enjoying the park. Only four rooms in the main Menshikov Palace were open so we decided to leave that for another visit. A few train stops from the more famous Petrodvorets, Oranienbaum was almost devoid of tourists. The wind was wicked, but we were just happy it wasn't raining like yesterday. With every turn of the lane, there was another perfect Russian picture - fields filled with tall grass and bright yellow buttercup flowers, tall thin pines and swaying birch trees, and grand pastel buildings.

We made our way back into the city as the clouds blew in and the temperature dropped. After a 15 minute walk we were on the banks of the Neva River. We peaked through the imposing iron gates of the Summer Gardens (it was closed on Tuesdays) to see a completely different park. The gardens were turned back to their original layout complete with high hedges and fountains. The stone figures of Flora and Fauna were replaced by replications and now there were quiet areas to talk around the newly restored fountains. It looked nothing like the garden I remember, or the Akhmatova poem I memorized during my study abroad at Leningrad University.

Анна Ахматова
Летний сад
Я к розам хочу, в тот единственный сад,
Где лучшая в мире стоит из оград,
Где статуи помнят меня молодой,
А я их под невскою помню водой.
В душистой тиши между царственных лип
Мне мачт корабельных мерещится скрип.
И лебедь, как прежде, плывет сквозь века,
Любуясь красой своего двойника.
И замертво спят сотни тысяч шагов
Врагов и друзей, друзей и врагов.
А шествию теней не видно конца
От вазы гранитной до двери дворца.
Там шепчутся белые ночи мои
О чьей-то высокой и тайной любви.
И все перламутром и яшмой горит,
Но света источник таинственно скрыт.
1959









After a day of walking, we had just enough strength to go past the lilac bushes in Mars Field and the larger than life Atlas figures as the domes of The Savior on Split Blood Cathedral were lit by sun breaking through the cloudy sky. It was just after 9pm and White Nights were upon us. The familiar blue-green hue of the Winter Palace was my last image of St. Petersburg, at least for a while.