There is a distinct Tsarist hangover in St Petersburg. If that doesn’t enthuse you, its midnight boat rides surely will
The curly haired guide on the motorboat I am jumping into from a pier near Zaharevskaya, Saint Petersburg, shoots unflattering looks. Is it just the strange Russian temperament I’ve encountered on this trip or can she actually be annoyed at me for arriving two-and-a-half minutes later than 11.30 pm, the reporting time, I wonder. It is only after our twilight cruise zips through narrow canals and reaches the imposing Neva river that I infer her reaction – the bridge we’re beholding has begun to creak open from the middle as traffic on both sides and that of click-happy visitors underneath has paused itself.
By ten minutes after midnight, its illuminated ends open fully, dramatically posing against a still-blue sky. Subsequent bridge sightings and sips of ‘champanska’ make me feel like I’m in a fine coffee table book. Also, note to self: in this far-west Russian city, sunset will happen well past midnight (or won’t happen at all one month every year), bridges will creak open at the stroke of midnight and tourist boats will leave just before midnight.
With dozens of channels of St Petersburg serving as arteries to the Neva, it’s only fair that one takes the water way to explore it. After Peter the Great discovered this swampland in 1703 and planned it with careful imaginations of Vienna, London and Paris, the result was a heady ode to Europe, which today also bears a silent Tsarist hangover. And the ‘kanals’ have inspired articulate bridges (539 to be precise, highest in the world) so make sure you tag your architect friends in your Facebook pictures.
