The Golden Autumn carpets the streets of St. Petersburg; the canals reflect the image of the Church of the Saviour on the Spilt Blood and the domes of St Isaac and Nicholas Catherdral glisten in the early morning sun, casting a golden orb around the awakening city. The city hums into life and one could imagine the impressionist of Monet, Cezanne, Renior and van Gogh, that hang within the walls of the Hermitage, capturing the beauty of the city.
At each turn, spalshes of light capture the colour of the ornate facades of the buildings, wide streets frame the landscape and the canals provide a sense of tranquility.
One of the greatest pleasures of travelling is the ability to wondering amissly, and as we set out we discover an adventure awaiting for us. The drekness of the day with its biting chill and icicle rain was soon forgotten as we viewed autumn leaves covering parks providing images of artisans on hands and knees guiding gold leaf throughout, the Church of the Saviour on the Spilt Blood dominates its surrounds; its multi-coloured domes twist and spiral and its mosaics depict icons looking protectively down upon its followers. Priests chants echo through the chapel and a lone flutist outside enhances the ambience with his music. Matryoshk dolls look out nonchalantly from shop windows, Shapku ushanka's adorn the heads of locals and tourist alike and the clink of shot glasses filled with vodka echo forth new friendships.
As the sun begins to set and the chill descends we decide to embark upon a cruise to see St. Petersburg at night and from water level. Rugged up and impersonating Inuits we braved the -1C and watched the city slide pass. A harvest moon hung over the Hermitage causing its reflection to dance across the river Neva and the fortress of Paul and Peter stands as a sentry guarding the city as the darkness creeps in.
As we snuggle together for warmth one must admit that St. Petersburg revivals Venice for its romance and sense of wonderment.
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