St. Basel's Cathedral
St. Petersburg Facade
Moscow Winter
Onion-domed church, Moscow
Tallin, capital of Estonia
Courtyard in Prague, Czech Republic******************************************
ELVIS HAS MOVED TO ST. PETERSBURG
…What we would consider our honeymoon was spent back in Europe exploring St. Petersburg, Russia’s second largest city, and Tallin, the capital of the Baltic state of Estonia. The two were quite distinct from each other, but both dripped with charm. Tallin’s walled, medieval Old Town was a gem of a place packed with interesting shops and fine restaurants. We’d explore ‘til our feet hurt then go sit at a café or read a book in one of its many parks. Yeah, it was just a nice place to hobble through cobble-stoned squares, and gobble Estonian fare.
St. Petersburg, in comparison to Tallin, had a much more grandiose tone. As you turned different corners, its galleries, cathedrals, canals and palaces seemed to compete for your attention. The Hermitage certainly lived up to its reputation, as did the fountains and gilded statues of Peterhof Palace.
Despite how effusive I am about the various tourist draws of St. Petersburg (a.k.a. "the city formerly known as Leningrad"), one of the most interesting experiences we had was when we stumbled upon a pub that was a kitschy simulacrum of an American saloon. Well, I don’t know if I could really call it a "saloon" because it was such a hodgepodge of rampant Americana. Try to picture dusty, wooden floorboards, a vintage "Happy Days" juke box, Elvis posters, a giant Confederate flag, and south-western cacti (in neon, of course). Yet, despite the what-the-hell-happened-here appearance of the place, the live band was actually amazing and there was an energy that I haven’t seen in a long time. They sang a roster of American hits as eclectic as the decor of the bar; from blues to rock ‘n’ roll to ‘80’s retro, with different American accents to boot. The crowd was worked up and it was surreal to see them swing dance effortlessly, or phonetically mouth the words to "Splish-splash, I was taking a bath…" or "SEX BOMB, you’re my SEX BOMB…". The Russian audience took on American personas in an almost unsettling manner. (Like, hey, is that Yelena "Bobby-Sue" Sukhova kicking up her heels with Alexei "Billy-Bob" Bobovich?) And as if the scene weren’t surreal enough, the band played one set a la alternative grunge. Did we need to see Elvis slam-dancing with Billy-Bobovich? How did this stuff ever get into Russia? I guess it just serves to remind us that we are all citizens of this planet America.
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