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sabotabbyI don't have an "anarcho-tourism" tag, but I should, just for entries like this one.
Yes, I was a geeky enough (and Anya was good-humoured enough) to go to Kronstadt.
Tuesday, April 25
We spent most of the day in Kronstadt, famous for Trotsky's violent suppression of an uprising by sailors who took the business of revolution more seriously than the Bolsheviks did. (You can debate that one.)
In fairness to ol' Leon, you can practically see Finland from Kronstadt.
The anarcho-tourist.
Kronstadt is a charming little shithole. It's beautiful and decrepit—it reminded Anya of Barrow, Alaska.
For several hundred years, everyone from Peter the Great to Leonid Brezhnev tried to make it a livable city, but to no avail.
Tiny little me in front of the ships.
The Naval Cathedral.
[Poll #725824]
We went back to St. Petersburg and met up with Masha to see the best opera yet. It was a production of Verdi's Otello. Very minimal—no costumes , only one prop (the handkerchief), and very little acting per se. But the music was phenomenal. The fellow playing Iago stole the show, but Desdemona's aria was also heartrending.
In other news, I got to eat in a Soviet-style cafeteria and ride in a Lada. Neither were as bad as they're claimed to be. [Famous last words. Guess what happened the next time I drove in a Lada?]
Me, back home, wearing my @#$% Kronstadt sailor hat. (Yes, it actually says "Kronstadt" on it. I'm that dorky.)
Yes, I was a geeky enough (and Anya was good-humoured enough) to go to Kronstadt.
Tuesday, April 25
We spent most of the day in Kronstadt, famous for Trotsky's violent suppression of an uprising by sailors who took the business of revolution more seriously than the Bolsheviks did. (You can debate that one.)
In fairness to ol' Leon, you can practically see Finland from Kronstadt.
The anarcho-tourist.
Kronstadt is a charming little shithole. It's beautiful and decrepit—it reminded Anya of Barrow, Alaska.
For several hundred years, everyone from Peter the Great to Leonid Brezhnev tried to make it a livable city, but to no avail.
Tiny little me in front of the ships.
The Naval Cathedral.
[Poll #725824]
We went back to St. Petersburg and met up with Masha to see the best opera yet. It was a production of Verdi's Otello. Very minimal—no costumes , only one prop (the handkerchief), and very little acting per se. But the music was phenomenal. The fellow playing Iago stole the show, but Desdemona's aria was also heartrending.
In other news, I got to eat in a Soviet-style cafeteria and ride in a Lada. Neither were as bad as they're claimed to be. [Famous last words. Guess what happened the next time I drove in a Lada?]
Me, back home, wearing my @#$% Kronstadt sailor hat. (Yes, it actually says "Kronstadt" on it. I'm that dorky.)
