I have been swept off my feet. I spent the past three days in St. Petersburg, and I fell inlove. I have wanted to go there for years, and as soon as I stepped off the train I knew it was special. Looking over the 400-something pictures I took this weekend, I regret not taking more. I don't even know what to write because I am so overwhelmed by the situation. If I wrote about everything I saw and felt, this blog would turn into a novel. So I'm not going to do that.
I saw so much while we were there, but the highlight of the trip was the Winter Palace, the residence of the Romanovs.So much has happened there. It was official residence of the Tsars since the 18th century. Bloody Sunday occurred in it's Palace Square. Those halls have seen grand royal balls and have been ravaged by revolution. If its walls could talk, I cannot even imagine what they would say. We were there for about 3 hours, and there was still so much we did not see.
For those of you who don't know, and I am sure most of you don't, I am the biggest Romanov nerd ever. Like...my love for them may be border-line unhealthy? Their family biography can and has brought me to tears. It's a tragic story of priviledge and bad decisions. Either way, they have enchanted me for years. So, needless, to say, walking the halls of the Winter Palace was a religious experience. I could feel the past around me. With each step, I pictured every person who had taken that same step before me. I have studied that place so much. When I stopped to listen, I could hear laughter and the Tsar's footsteps that would have echoed through the marble halls. I could hear the selfish arguments of Grand Dukes, and secret snickering that began to destroy the family from within. I shivered when I thought of Rasputin. And when I closed my eyes, I saw revolutionaries and peasants storming the palace, driven by desperation and hatred. I could hear them coming. I honestly do not understand how a person could step foot into the Palace and not be immediately overwhelmed by the very thought of it. It fills me with this deep, strange sadness.
When we stepped out into the Palace Square, the first thing I saw was Bloody Sunday. What a tragedy. I just wanted to sit there for hours and take it all in. In fact, next time I am in Russia, I will be coming back to St. Petersburg to do just that. Just sit. Unfortunately, with such a large group of people, you don't really get the chance to soak up what is around you. So we were just there for a few minutes and left. As we were leaving, I kept turning around to look at the Palace. I knew it would be years before I am able to see it again. I did not really care what the group was doing. In my general state of absent-mindedness I almost got run over by a horse and carriage, but one of my friends grabbed my arm before I was trampled. I don't remember who. I was too distracted. Even though my life almost came to a rather abrupt end, I kept turning my head back while we walked away. The last time I looked back, we had turned the corner and I could not see it anymore. I wanted to cry.
By now, you are probably reading this and thinking I am crazy. But that is okay, because we are all passionate about something.
I'm not going to lie, Moscow had me down. And now I feel renewed. I felt like I left a part of myself here seven years ago, and I thought I lost it. I think I found it in St. Petersburg.
I saw so much while we were there, but the highlight of the trip was the Winter Palace, the residence of the Romanovs.So much has happened there. It was official residence of the Tsars since the 18th century. Bloody Sunday occurred in it's Palace Square. Those halls have seen grand royal balls and have been ravaged by revolution. If its walls could talk, I cannot even imagine what they would say. We were there for about 3 hours, and there was still so much we did not see.
For those of you who don't know, and I am sure most of you don't, I am the biggest Romanov nerd ever. Like...my love for them may be border-line unhealthy? Their family biography can and has brought me to tears. It's a tragic story of priviledge and bad decisions. Either way, they have enchanted me for years. So, needless, to say, walking the halls of the Winter Palace was a religious experience. I could feel the past around me. With each step, I pictured every person who had taken that same step before me. I have studied that place so much. When I stopped to listen, I could hear laughter and the Tsar's footsteps that would have echoed through the marble halls. I could hear the selfish arguments of Grand Dukes, and secret snickering that began to destroy the family from within. I shivered when I thought of Rasputin. And when I closed my eyes, I saw revolutionaries and peasants storming the palace, driven by desperation and hatred. I could hear them coming. I honestly do not understand how a person could step foot into the Palace and not be immediately overwhelmed by the very thought of it. It fills me with this deep, strange sadness.
When we stepped out into the Palace Square, the first thing I saw was Bloody Sunday. What a tragedy. I just wanted to sit there for hours and take it all in. In fact, next time I am in Russia, I will be coming back to St. Petersburg to do just that. Just sit. Unfortunately, with such a large group of people, you don't really get the chance to soak up what is around you. So we were just there for a few minutes and left. As we were leaving, I kept turning around to look at the Palace. I knew it would be years before I am able to see it again. I did not really care what the group was doing. In my general state of absent-mindedness I almost got run over by a horse and carriage, but one of my friends grabbed my arm before I was trampled. I don't remember who. I was too distracted. Even though my life almost came to a rather abrupt end, I kept turning my head back while we walked away. The last time I looked back, we had turned the corner and I could not see it anymore. I wanted to cry.
By now, you are probably reading this and thinking I am crazy. But that is okay, because we are all passionate about something.
I'm not going to lie, Moscow had me down. And now I feel renewed. I felt like I left a part of myself here seven years ago, and I thought I lost it. I think I found it in St. Petersburg.
Kristen, I am so happy that you have been given this opportunity and that you feel renewed. I don't think you're crazy. We are all definitely passionate about something. Thanks so much for sharing yours with us. Much love! -Monica
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