About the third bridge, we started recognizing him: this same guy was following our boat. And he kept running after the canal boat- even over ridiculous distances, he would sprint fast enough to be in the middle of the bridge by the time our boat went under it. Apparently, a lot of kids do this to make some extra money during the summer. Honestly, I have no idea how someone
came up with this idea, but it worked: we gave him some bills at the end where he was waiting with the that universal gesture: an open palm. Clearly, he had done this before and knew the exact route of the canal boat. The local tourism board should really pay kids like this: it definitely makes an otherwise somewhat foreboding city seem very friendly. In every picture we took of St. Petersburg's canals, this same blonde kid was waving at our boat from the nearest bridge.
I've noticed a pattern: cities that are built in highly questionable locations and still survive tend to have a culture apart from whatever larger community they are a part of. Think New Orleans- located in a formerly malarial swamp and rebuilt three times in the 1700s and prone to flooding from rainstorms, never mind hurricanes; Miami- the Seminole knew that the Devil Wind had a particular affinity for the coast near the Florida Straits; San Francisco- right on that fault line, huh? Good job, boys! And the Netherlands- the need for more sandbaggers to ward off the North Sea and the rivers trumped the need for religious homogeneity.
St. Petersburg follows the pattern. Built on a swamp 120 miles from the strongest European kingdom at the time (Sweden), the city was intended to be Peter the Great's "Window on the West" as he sought to drag Russia kicking and screaming out of the Dark Ages. All of this was cute and tolerated by the nobles- until he made this little village his capital and moved the court. There is still something... quaint and endearing about the log cabin the czar lived in as he supervised construction of his new city. It really is very simple and no larger than most American houses (at least in rural areas)- just a ranch-style house with exposed beams (now facaded with stone) with a long porch looking out onto the River. It's pretty easy to image the Czar of all the Russias sitting out, smoking his pipe, and utterly despising the ostentatiousness and self-conceit of most of his nobles.
From that start, St. Petersburg has always been a bit different- its architecture is Baroque Italian with winding canals joining the rivers and draining the natural swamp. With bridges everywhere (often clearly named based on the color of the paint used), the central city gives off a slightly Mediterranean vibe.
When you think of the intrigue and plots that have percolated through St. Petersburg, the spirit of Machiavelli does seem alive and well. Czar Alexander II was assassinated near the Neva River and his successor built the Church of Our Savior on (Alexander's) Spilled Blood (not "Our Savior's Spilled Blood") as a memorial.
A few decades later, Gregori Rasputin was assassinated by Prince Yusupov and others in the private study of the Yusupov Palace Unfortunately for the Prince, his less-than-stalwart accomplices wrapped Rasputin's body in a silk curtain made from a pattern produced exclusively for the Yusupovs.
Realpolitik Lesson #1: If you choose to assassinate a highly public figure for bankrupting/deluding the country, do not attempt to conceal the body in draperies that could only be purchased by someone with your last name and/ or bank account.
Realpolitik Lesson #2: If you ignore Lesson #1, it is vital to dispose of the body NOT in a frozen river where the dearly departed will be preserved until it pops up later through a thin patch of ice, scaring the bejeezus out of old ladies and small children. As Graham Chapman might say, "You have to know these things when you're a king" (or planning to dispatch one).
The Bolshevik Revolution began in St. Petersburg, on board the battleship Aurora, which is now permanently moored outside the Naval Academy (an incongruously... happy blue and white building that looks more like a wedding cake than a military institution). In an effort to break with the Czarist past, the Communists made Moscow the capital of the Soviet Union and renamed St. Petersburg/ Petrograd "Leningrad." Despite the fact its factories- especially the shipyards- produced far more than their share of the USSR's GNP, funds were used by the central committee to provide increased standards of living in Moscow and elsewhere. However, the city retained a sense of its own agency and despite- or perhaps because of- attempts by Stalin to quash independent sources of power and influence, Leningrad regularly presented challenges to Moscow's hegemony. As the Soviet system collapsed, residents voted to officially restore the old name of their city.
Since end of the Soviet Union, St. Petersburg has reasserted itself, with the head of city administration now titled "Governor" and the Constitutional Court recently transferred to the English Embankment (near St. Isaac's Cathedral) from Moscow. It can't have hurt that former President, now Prime Minister, Vladimir Putin got his political start in the "northern capital."
Speaking of Putin though, however I might respect his ability to take Russia back from the brink of collapse and reestablish some national pride, it is hard to escape thinking that his old job as KGB officer informs his current thinking just a bit too much. As a visitor to Russia, nearly everyone must have a visa- granted this is hardly newsworthy on its own, but it does stand in rather stark contrast to, say, Estonia or Finland. Without a visa- as a cruise passenger, for instance- you must be accompanied at all times by a licensed tour guide, who takes you to specifically licensed stores and- following a exterior tour of the Crosses Prison and the Peter and Paul Fortress- reminds you that buying from street vendors is illegal in Russia. Yes, I can understand how this makes sense- especially since so few Russians learned English in school- however, the whole feel is a bit oppressive in a recognized tourist district.
Despite all that, or maybe because of it, being in St. Petersburg still feels like an adventure and it ranks as a "Must See."
And finally, I took this picture off a highway near Christchurch, New Zealand. The road ran right to the edge of the water and sitting on the rocks were about three dozen seals, just basking in the sun. 
