Arriving in St Petersburg

In my head, the train left at 5.48am so catching a taxi at 5am for a 5-10min taxi ride was perfectly sensible.  Both I and the taxi driver were early so I arrived at the train station at 4.59am and was on the train by 5.06am.  Just as well because the train actually left at 5.12am.  Oops.

I'm felt like I was in a James Bond/Mission Impossible movie.  Half the train looked liked dour and deadly assassins, I expected one guy to peel of his face and reveal he was really Tom Cruise at any moment, and there was a weird meeting between a man in one of those Russian furry hats and a be-suited skinhead.  Then there was the steady stream of people wanting to look at my passport.  None of them smiled.  Once you enter the border zone, there's barbed wire fences, bright lights and the train seems to emit bright sparks from the track (probably something to do with the electric train, but in my Bond filled head it was so the snipers with guns pointed at us the whole way could see anyone attempting to slip from the train).  So, in summary, I didn't sleep on the train.

I did think about what a lovely country Finland is - not the dull country cousin of Sweden that I had expected.  Helsinki is a very lovely city - I imagine it's even more fabulous in Summer.  I'll have to come back....

Taxi drivers are the people I trust least in the world.  Even less than politicians.  So the taxi that I had arranged to meet me came as a pleasant surprise.  He gave me a running commentary as we drove through the city.  I had purposely got a train so goddamn early so that I would have time to do things when I arrived.  So, first of all, I had a nap. 

Then I went to the Russian Museum.  This is a museum of Russian Art and I was a bit disappointed really.  The art was theoretically very good but there was little that made me think.   Russia has a hugely turmultuous and violent history - yet none of this comes through in the art.  The 20th century with it's huge political upheavals is represented by portraits and still lifes.  I'm sure there is art that is intended to protest, to shock, to criticise whatever the current regime might be.  But it is not on show at the Russian Museum.