The Pink Egg

Pushka Inn

My ride down to St. Petersburg from Murmansk was long, but luckily uneventful. I arrived around 11pm and unlike in Kazan where I had massive dramas with the taxi, this time things went off without a hitch with the taxi arriving right on schedule. I arrived at my hotel, The Pushka Inn, and checked in with little drama. It’s always nice when things go so smoothly since many times they don’t. I was excited about staying at The Pushka, as usually it is so popular it books out months in advance and I’m usually stuck with only a few days out of the week or so I normally stay in the city. But this time I planned ahead and booked out about two months ahead of time.

Palace Square

For those considering a visit to Petersburg I cannot recommend The Pushka Inn enough. Not only is it luxurious, centrally located (only steps from Palace Square where The Hermitage/Winter Palace is located) but also has quite the history. Throughout the 19^th century and during the early part of the 20^th century the hotel served as the mansion for the Pushchins family, who were part of the revolutionary group, The Decembrists, who in 1825 led an unsuccessful uprising against the Tsar. Throughout the hotel you will see reminders of the family from paintings to drawings of the family coat of arms and many other historical pieces. Also next-door is the apartment of Russia’s most famous poet and author, Alexander Sergevich Pushkin. Here Pushkin wrote some of his most famous works and also died after getting into a duel. Do not miss the tours of his apartment, which happen every day.

I settled into my room and removed all my layers feeling a sense of freedom since I was in an actual room and out of my tiny train compartment. Just when I had arrived the snow started picking up and was really sticking with a fierce wind whipping things up outside. I was happy to see the snow coming down, as there’s nothing more I love than the snow! But damn was I ever going to pay for it the next day!

That next morning I awakened and there still was snow, but it looked as if it were on the verge of melting. When I finally got out on the street after a delightful breakfast, the snow was indeed melting before my eyes and turning into a horribly soupy, messy, brown, slushy ice. I barely took three steps on the sidewalk and I could feel my feet moving from underneath me as if I was one step away from landing flat on my ass. As I walked along every single step I took seemed treacherous at best! No way was I going to survive this. But I thought since I was on the side streets of sort that maybe it’d get better once I got to the main drag, Nevsky Prospect. It did get a bit better once on Nevsky but every step still was torturous and treacherous at best.

My first stop of the day would be Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood, which ranks up there as one of Russia’s most beautiful churches and a close 2^nd to St. Basil’s in Moscow. Getting there though was not easy as there as the sidewalks and roads were covered in snow, slush, ice and mud puddles as deep as Lake Baikal. Once I arrived at Church on Spilled Blood I just stood and looked at the cathedral in awe. I’ve seen it many times, but looking at it never gets old. However the exterior is not the only thing to see, the interior is gorgeous as well with beautiful stained glass, frescoes, iconstatuses (a wall of icons) that reach to the heavens, the smell of burning wax candles and also the final resting place of the Tsar Alexander the II, who was fatally wounded on the spot in March of 1881.

Alexander II mausoleum

I took my time looking around enjoying how peaceful it was inside compared to other times of the year when there are tourists everywhere making it a rather unpleasant experience. I spotted a gift shop, really more like a gift stand, in the back. I looked longingly at all the souvenirs and treasures wishing I had a place to put them all, but knowing I best abstain since my house is stuffed with decades worth of souvenirs. After some more looking I came upon a beautiful pink Faberge egg with a clock on it. It was amazing!! The woman who was the gift shop employee showed me all the cool things it did, like sit up on a small pedestal thanks to magnets, opened up on top as a place to put jewelry and even cooler it wound up like a music box and played a well-known Russian song. It was the perfect and best gift for my mother! I was sold and ready to buy it! But just as I was taking out my credit card the woman said they only accepted cash. Only problem….I did not have enough cash on me. She told me there was an ATM just out the door and that she’d hold it for me.

Iconostatus

So, off I went in search of an ATM trying my hardest to avoid the deep mud puddles and keep my balance despite all the slush and thick ice on the sidewalk. I was determined and nothing was going to get in my way! Finally I found a bank. YES, I thought, just go in, pop in my card, take out a few thousand rubles, get back to the church, pay for the present and continue my day. It was as if it was too easy and The Universe just wanted to challenge me a bit more. I got in and proceeded to enter my code. The ATM did not work like most other ATMs, instead of asking for a four-digit pin like we enter in American, it wanted a six-digit pin. Odd I thought but entered my pin anyway. ERROR, try again it said! I always challenge myself and choose Russian language when using ATMs, so I thought maybe I’d done something wrong on the Russian side. Hopeful I tried English and repeated what I did thinking that this time I would get a different result! WRONG! Error again! I was enraged. WTF I thought, what’s going on.

Frustrated I moved to the next bank and once again it required a six-digit pin. I entered my four-digit pin hoping that would suffice and once again it spit out my card saying error. Exacerbated, I walked another several blocks to a well-known Russian bank and finally, finally the bank asked for the standard four-digit pin. But it wouldn’t allow me to take out denominations of 5,000 rubles in one transaction. So, I had to do separate transactions. It was frustrating, but after all the grief I had suffered at the hands of these ATMs no way was I going to back down. It was just the price I had to pay.

Eventually I got the money and trudged back through the snow, slush, ice trying to avoid the deep mud puddles, where I could. However, resistance was futile as I got my shoes wet at least four or so times. After the third time I stopped counting and just soldiered on. I wanted to buy a Faberge egg of my own, but figured it’d just have to wait till next time since I did not want to repeat the saga that I’d already endured! In the end I was very pleased with my purchase as my mother adored the egg and said it was the best gift I’d ever brought back!