Why I Have to be Careful in my Office

As many of you know, Ted's been lucky enough to be able to come to the office with me this year, and he loves it!  Not only does he view the trams as wonderful places where he gets the maximum attention and petting with the minimum effort, but he has his whole group of people that he gets very excited to see.  Yes, Anu, William, Rogier, Minna, Maija, Anne, Sveta, Maria, and Andrei's 5-year-old daughter all get their wags and even sometimes excited woofs when they come near the door.  (The last 3 are special favorites!)  In fact, I've had to teach him that not everyone needs to be greeted at all times, a bit of a project actually.  Ted's so concerned to keep an eye on everything that he's recently started sleeping in a new spot and I thought I'd share it with you.

Yes, that's Ted's head right in the doorway.  Thank goodness, I don't get any cross-breezes that could slam the door shut!  I find it particularly funny because he can see everything and anyone in the entire hallway from that angle AND his head is about 2 inches from where the elevator doors open.  In other words, anyone who takes the elevator up into our hallway is greeted with a dog head and muffled thumps from his tail.

Good thing the staff here all like him! :-)

Water in Winter, Finnish Style

In homage to a Finnish spring, I figured I'd post my last pictures of a Finnish winter.  In this case, it's what the water looks like.

This is looking out towards Suomenlinna with the icebreaker.

The Way of the Cross (Via Crucis)

In keeping with it being Easter, I figured I'd celebrate by depicting the crucifixion.  I know--twisted--but I wanted to provide some images of what I found to be one of Helsinki's more interesting and oddest, if you know the culture, Easter events.

Walking back from lunch last week, I noticed this huge, blood red sign in Senate Square advertising the performance of a via crucis on Good Friday.  Those of you who aren't familiar, via crucis is an ancient Christian tradition, originating in the Middle Ages, where Christians follow the path of Christ's last day(s).  It's commemorated in modern Catholic churches with the stations of the cross, but in some very traditional areas they still follow a medieval practice.  This can be an actual reenactment of all 14 key events done in sequence by the same group of actors done over something close to the actual time; it can also be all or some of the key events reenacted on stages either continuously or staggered over a period ranging in time from several hours to all day.  Think Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ," although that was a VERY restrained via crucis.  (I think it was only shocking to those who aren't familiar with past practices--oh, wait a minute, I was expecting modern Americans to be historically literate.  Sorry!)

Whatever the choice, it's a very old-fashioned practice and even some of the most "Catholic" places in Western Europe--Spain, Italy, and Ireland--do it infrequently, if at all.  I'm familiar with these procedures not because I've seen them--I've seen other Easter festivals but not a via crucis--but because they're a classic example of medieval piety, introduced to communicate a Christian message more profoundly and viscerally to a largely illiterate audience.  They're a great way to study what were perceived to be the basic components of Christianity in the Middle Ages and to learn about society's biases (some of the antisemitic stuff can be wild.)  It's also one of the practices that Protestants and even some Catholic reformers reacted so strongly against in the 16th century.

Imagine, then, my surprise at seeing a via crucis here in a country that is 96% Lutheran but is predominantly secular!  I just stopped, laughed out loud, and took a picture.  What was interesting, too, is that the Finnish friend I was with explained it in exactly ways that any intelligent medieval theologian would've agreed with.  So this I had to see.

(As a bit of contextual note.  It turns out these reenactments are becoming more and more popular in evangelical Protestant communities, something that I, as a historian of religion, find funny and ironic in the extreme.  There are lots of evangelical groups in the US that do them, in some cases even uses spikes and actual whips.  The case of secular, Lutheran Finland seemed particularly weird, though, until one of my ex-students told me that this is part of the Pietist resurgence in Lutheranism.  Pietism was a much more evangelical, mystical strand of Lutheranism that arose in the 17th century, and its practitioners turned back to a lot of pious practices of the later Middle Ages as a way of developing a more personal, emotional connection with God.  While I understand it intellectually, though, the historian in me finds it quite funny.  What goes around, comes around, and Martin Luther is rolling in his grave--or at least some of his early followers are.)

In any case, come 9:30 pm on Good Friday, I'd stationed myself in front of the Finnish Supreme Court building, one of the main venues and right near Senate Square where the culmination/crucifixion was set to be staged.  I'd since learned that the via started at 9 pm and lasted until 11 pm, and they did it in 3 acts: The Denunciation/Gardens of Gethsemane, the trial and sentencing, and his movement towards and actual crucifixion.  They were also staging it at 3 big venues in downtown: the podium at one of the main parks, the Supreme Court building, and in front of Helsinki Cathedral (Lutheran).  I didn't get there early enough to see the Gardens, so I figured the Supreme Court building would be a great place to station myself.  Several thousand Finns and I all had the same idea.  Actually walking there itself was pretty wild because they'd turned off the lights on Senate Square (where my tram stop was) and on the road up to the Court building; you can get a sense of the darkness and the drama that the one lit building provided.

After about half an hour wait, where Ted entertained himself mooching pets and I tried to keep him from "exploring" too thoroughly the tripod of a very nice Finnish guy (and that's NOT a euphemism), we saw 2 police horses in the distance.  At first, I thought they were actually part of the play, but here you can see how the play at the security went side by side.

Here's another shot of the Court building just as the play arrived.  I kept trying to get a sense of how it actually looked, and no matter how many settings I tried, I primarily got dramatically lit shrubs.  The play actually seemed closer, and it was easier to view because the building across the street, which is where we were, is actually up on a bit of a hill.  We could all line the driveway and get de facto staggered viewing.

When the play started, I realized that they were focusing on the key stories somewhat melded together but in general chronological order.  Unfortunately, all the performances and narration were in Finnish, but obviously I knew the events.  That meant I could concentrate on more of the details, like the amazing voice that the narrator had.  She's the person that they coined the word mellifluous to describe!  Amazing story-telling voice!  In fact, I even tried to get a couple of videos here to give you a sense of the fully sound and image experience.

Unfortunately, because of my camera equipment and lack of skill, I couldn't get really good night shots.  The next day, though, I found this great website on Flickr by a guy calling himself JohntheFinn, and I'd like to thank John for providing these great images for you guys and my memories.

One of the things I'd hoped the via crucis people would do is use the Supreme Court as a setting for the trial and Pontius Pilate, although I seriously doubt they did it from the sense of irony that inspired me.  Much to my amusement/pleasure, they did, and here's Pontius himself arguing against condemning Jesus.  (I don't have an image of their Barabbas, but he was pretty wild--literally.  He looked a bit like a half-naked wildman.)

Wanted to get this closeup of Jesus.  The guy who was playing him is a graduate theater student at the University, and I understand that the actors are mix of people: professionals volunteering, theater students & profs, locals, etc.  In this case, it's definitely Jesus as Hunk.

Once Jesus was whipped and condemned, this wave of Finns and I walked the block down to the Senate Square.  They staged the crucifixion here, and it's an amazingly dramatic place to do it.  You see, Helsinki Cathedral is all in white, which gives lighting experts a wonderful canvas, and it's built on this granite outcropping; to go from the square to the cathedral entrance you have to climb close to 50 stairs.  It's definitely where students hang out on warm summer days, and with enough snow, it makes a great winter sled run.

In this case, Ted and I joined an even larger number of Finns who stationed themselves all around Senate Square to watch.  (Like with my earlier pictures of the Court, we were actually much closer than this picture suggests.)  In just 5-10 minutes the via crucis joined us, first with the group playing the crowd lined up across the top holding torches, then with the narrator, Veronica, and 4 other guys who I couldn't identify dressed in white.

Then, from the top of the cathedral steps, came this single note from an antique-sounding horn.  When the player finally appeared about 5 minutes later, it looked like he was blowing on a huge, old-style, horn horn; it sounded like those re-creations of ancient warhorns.

 

That's when poor Ted lost his cool.  Something about the combination of darkness, crowds, and the war horn rattled the guy, which doesn't happen often at all.  Suddenly he went into full alert mode and stayed that way pretty much through the remaining 10-15 minutes we were there.  Roman-style war horns--who'd have thought that was his worry button?

Here I tried to get close-up pictures of Christ climbing the stairs.  On both of these the cross was on the ground, but he did carry it up all the way.  Here they also staged Veronica wiping the sweat from Christ's brow and Simon of Cyrene helping Christ carry the cross.

An interesting aside here is that, while everyone else was in costume, Simon the Cyrene was in street clothes.  I'm sure there was some theatrical reason for that, although I'll be darned if I know it.

The lady who played Veronica also sang, and she had a fabulous voice; if she isn't a member of the National Opera company, she has to be a student there.

I also wanted to include this picture because I loved the Finnish take on Middle Eastern clothing.  I mean, I know it could be snowing during this, but this has got to be the warmest ancient robe I've every seen!  The fingerless mitts are pretty good, too.

At the end, they slowly raised the two thieves on the cross, then Christ himself with dramatic narration and the fanfare of horns.

Here you can really see how the white cathedral adds a wonderfully dramatic backdrop.

What you can't see here, unfortunately, is how they handled the crosses.  Believe me, there was little, if any, danger of Christ or the thieves actually hurting themselves.  While Christ carried a more lightweight cross, waiting for him here was something made out of 6x6s, and he stood on a platform of steel bolted into the cross.  Then they tied his hands to the cross, although the dramatization of him being nailed to it was graphic enough!  Probably it was uncomfortable staying stiff while being slowly raised to upright and their arms got tired, but the Finns didn't do one of those crazy, gory reenactments that you hear about sometimes.

By this stage, I'd decided that poor Ted had spent enough time worrying, so I started to head to the far end of Senate Square and our tram stop, turning around every once in a while for the big events, like the thunderclap announcing Christ's death.  That's when I took this picture.

Ted was very pleased to get on the tram and find a nice couple who petted and talked to him until they had to get off.  Once he was at home he ran around like a pup, a sure sign that he'd prefer not to go to another crucifixion, especially one with Roman horns, again.  I'm happy to oblige.

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On a lighter note, in honor of Easter:

Grand Hotel Europe (St. Petersburg)

Really, I promise that there's more Russia pictures coming; in fact, I should be posting more in the next few days.  It's just that I've formatted and sorted them in batches, and this was the first batch I received to work on.  So here's more of luxurious Kay & Jaime life at the Grand Hotel.

This is very like the picture I'd seen on the hotel's website.  What I didn't realize is that the hotel took the entire block, and it's a name block--like being on Fifth Avenue in New York.  In this case, the street you see is Nevsky Prospekt, one of the main, name streets in St. Petersburg.  The Grand Hotel takes the entire block, and in fact, you can where my sun porch was, just down from the main entrance, which is on the side street.

Here's the main entrance and, yes, it really does look like that.  In fact, it looks even posher when you drive up in a BMW 735, and a fully uniformed doorman opens the door and says, "Welcome to the Grand Hotel Europe, Dr. Edwards." :-)  I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that they knew our names since they provided the car and it wasn't a particularly busy time of year, but it really was impressive and an example of what the service was like the entire time we were there.

Here's part of the front lobby and, no, that's not a ghost.  Time lapse photography.  You can see one of the doormen standing by the first set of double doors into the hotel.  It was interesting watching the dynamic of people dealing with the doormen, especially since most people just ignored them.  So sad.  They were so pleased when we just said the basic courtesies to them in Russian, like Спасибо (spaseebah, thank you) and Здравствуйте (drastvooyte, hello).  I mean, it shouldn't be a strain to be polite and acknowledge their hard work, attentiveness, and kindness.

Okay, tirade stopped!  This is an example of what the corridors were like all over the hotel.  While this is a staged picture for some sort of promotional campaign, it really is authentic.

Once we arrived and were given a glass of champagne (neither Jaime nor I are big drinkers, but it would be easy to become one there!), our butlers took us on a tour of the hotel.  (I must admit that I had a sort of Jeeves character in mind when I thought of butler, but in this case, the butlers were two attractive women in their late 20s or 30s.)  One of the things they seemed very proud of was the "grand staircase" that went through the center of the hotel.  It was beautiful and fully restored; moreover, since our rooms were just off it, we went up and down it all day, which really added to the hotel-as-palace feeling of the place.  That being said, I had to laugh at myself.  I know that I've lived a pretty sweet life when I look at this and think, "Oh, another fancy staircase.  What's the big deal?" :-)  Given how much I hate the phrase "been there, done that," the minute I caught myself reacting like that I started laughing.  Made me appreciate everything even more.

Jaime actually had a great time taking photos of the stairway because, with the number of windows, skylights and reflective surfaces, there were lots of different lighting effects he could achieve.  These are just a few of his products!

At the top of the first flight of stairs there was a big room with cushioned chairs, couches, etc. and a grand piano for the guests; our rooms were right next to all this.  It was fabulous one day to walk out of the room and hear someone playing on the piano; turns out it was the son of one of the guests here.  His parents seemed a bit concerned at first that he'd been disturbing me, but when I gave them a big smile, they looked so proud they'd burst.

Although we didn't go out late at night often, we did go out a few times to see the downtown lit up and to go to the Kirov.  (Fabulous opera, appalling behavior by the audience, which I hear is made up almost entirely of tourists, both Russian and non-Russian.  Why is it that people's manners disappear when they aren't at home?)  In any case, the Grand Hotel at night was wonderful looking, as you can see from these photos.  It was particularly cool, too, to sit on the sun porch at night; you got the ambient light from the hotel but could look out at buildings on Nevsky Prospekt like the Gostiny Dvor store (think Macy's or Bloomingdale's) or on Arts Square behind the Grand Hotel where you could find the Russian Museum (in the old Mikhailovsky Palace).

I just wanted to include this because of the reverse perspective and to show you the fleet of cars that lived in front of the hotel.  These are the hotel's chauffeured cars, the ones Jaime and I ran around in.

More to come soon about St. Petersburg itself and some of the wining and dining we enjoyed while there!

Caption contest!

Jaime sent me this photo as a preview of the photos he took in Russia, and I must admit that I cracked up.  Rather than explain this photo immediately, however, I thought it might be fun coming up with captions and/or comments for what is assuredly one of my weirder photos this year.  I'll post the responses here later.

Finnish Michelin Men

In homage to the gradual approach of spring, I thought I'd finally post about how parents here deal with kids in winter, particularly their clothing.  It has been a great source of amusement to me all winter long.  On the one hand, as you will see, the outfits are absolutely adorable and quite practical.  On the other hand, the kids look like a cross between the Michelin Man and the little brother in A Christmas Story.  And, yes, there is that turtle effect and, yes, I have seen a kid fall down who can't get up.

Here's what I mean.

I think for people who know nothing about northern Europe, like me before I came here, if they have any idea about winter clothing at all it might be something like this.  This is a group of historical reinactors doing the whole Finnish "national" clothing thing (I won't even get into the anachronisms of national clothing in the Finnish circumstance, but in any case ...)  I particularly loved this one because of the guys in down coats and cargo pants in the center:  2 sets of Finnish national clothing for the price of one picture!

The best part of the picture, though, is the baby.  See what I mean about the little brother in A Christmas Story!  And, although the clothing is all natural, and therefore ridiculously bulky compared to normal modern Finnish kids' clothes, the idea of having the baby wrapped up from head to toe in multiple layers is totally Finnish.  In fact, yesterday I saw a kid dressed somewhat like this in one of the incredibly insulated baby carriages that I'll show in a second, but in addition he was wearing wrap-around sunglasses.  I thought I was going to gag I was laughing so hard, and I pretended that I was laughing at Ted so that I didn't offend the parents (not too difficult to pretend).  Yes, I know all about UV protection, but did you really need to find sunglasses that looked like swim goggles.  (And, yes, even as I type that, I realize how incredibly practical they are.  The laughter is a mix of the kid's style and my reaction to my reaction.)

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Basically the kids-as-giant-balls-of-clothing phenomenon started around November, and by December I was determined that I HAD to get some photos of this!  They were absolutely adorable, and those of you who know me know that I'm not someone who melts at the sight of any old kid.  (Remember the children I described as needing to be "thrown to the wolves"?)  The problem was basically one of public safety.  In other words, how do you convince people that a stranger taking photos of their baby is not a pedophile?  And, you know, you actually look more like a pedophile when you take pictures from a distance.

In any case, by mid-December I was getting desperate enough to try some stealth cellphone shots, which are how these first few photos were taken.

Baby #1 (imagine a "Price is Right," Bob Barker voice there) was taken in front of the Stockmann's window at Christmas.  I had to get him because basically he was a giant ball of brown down, even including his mittens.  Mittens, not gloves, are the pattern for maximum warmth, because--let's be real--when you're dressing your kids like this, manual dexterity just isn't a major concern.  Here I particularly like the hat and the quilted cover on what is a VERY low-key stroller by Helsinki standards.  After all, it was only right around freezing, so the real, cold weather had not yet begun.

In fact, one of the things you see on lots of kids' clothes are reflectors of some sort, which makes sense considering it's dark by 3 pm and dim long before that in late December (This was taken c. 5 pm in early November).  It gives children this somewhat surreal glow, especially when attached to the Michelin clothing: is the shape human or a demonic Pillsbury doughboy?  In fact, lots of folks have these little, rubber things hanging from bags, backpacks, purses, and zippers on coats, and I only recently learned that they're there to glow in the dark, too.  Ideally you wear them at around hip level so that it's easier for drivers and cyclists to see you.   I was glad to learn that because I'd really wondered if all of Finland had succumbed to one of those weird crazes for stickers and buttons that tend to sweep high school campuses back home; the fact that a bunch of these are in the shapes of flowers or cartoon characters just added to that impression.  Then again, they're much more discreet than the blinking lights some people and dogs wore.  Dogs blinking brightly--that really took Ted aback!

I just love the full body effect of this kid's outfit.  It also gives you a sense of how waterproof these things are.  In fact, it seems like the entire population under age 5 or 6 doesn't wear a natural fiber from November until at least now!  Makes sense since these are a lot more waterproof.  Wish I had a close-up of the great, little kids' snowboots that are part of this outfit!

This picture I had to put in for the sake of one of my colleagues in the General History seminar.  We were talking about the kids' winter clothes before seminar one day, and he mentioned how much he hated being dressed up to go out for field trips when he was a kid.  Until then I hadn't really paid attention, but once he spoke up, I noticed these groups of little kids in neon reflective vests being shepherded around Helsinki in the winter.  Is it just me, or do they look like oversized, irradiated ducklings?  Then again, I like the artistic side of the orange against the white and dark brown.

Part of why kids are so bundled up here--and look so cutely Michelin-like--is that there doesn't seem to be anytime that kids are not taken outside.  Really.  Even on days of "heavy snow" they're in the park (I put "heavy snow" in quotes because people have called c. 8" heavy snow here.  The Sierras would freak Helsinki folks out!).  Even when it was -20F, they were skating in the park.  Even now with it icy and muddy, kids're out running through it.  And even when they can't move, they must be exposed to the elements!

That leads to the most seriously impressive strollers that I have EVER seen.

This photo was taken in late January when I was out with Ted in 0F weather.  I saw Mom marching towards me in the distance--yes, marching, even though the entire sidewalk was ice--and knew I had to get this because it epitomized Finnish kids "taking the air" in winter.  So I removed my gloves, dug out the camera from inside the Burgundy duvet, blew on the camera to make sure it was warm enough to work, frantically wiped the condensation off before it froze, waited for the remaining condensation to evaporate, and eventually got my zoom lens working just before she marched past (across the street).

What makes this photo quintessentially Finnish?  Check out the carriage!  That is a winter, four-wheeler!  I mean, you could go off road in that thing while simultaneously maintaining your baby in perfect 75 degree comfort!  It had wider tires with snow grips (not kidding), several layers of insulation (not kidding), waterproof covers on the top, bottom, and sides (not kidding), a movable insulated hood (not kidding), and automatic wheel locks (Okay, I can't see them from this distance, but I'll bet they're there, so I'm not kidding).  The only thing that isn't quintessentially Finnish is the bright red coat, which is lovely but should be blue or black, please.

In fact, friends of mine here who aren't Finnish have hysterical stories about elderly Finnish ladies coming up to them in the park to scold them when they've dressed their child inappropriately.  For example, can you see why in the photo below the child is a victim of child abuse?

It's not the lightweight, albeit fancy, stroller or even the fact that he appears to be sitting all alone.  It's that he isn't appropriately covered.  Yes, even though he's in full Michelin man regalia, it is snowing and he doesn't have a stroller cover over him!!  What neglectful parents!  In fact, I showed this to some Finnish colleagues, and they were a bit surprised that this was up on a website.  In fact, I had even been surprised (Hey, I found this in early March and had been well indoctrinated by that point!)

Lest you think I'm kidding, let me tell you a story.  One of my colleagues here is from Switzerland, and he and his wife have a lovely 2-year-old boy with a head of thick, curly hair.  Well, one day in November when it was c. 50 degrees Fahrenheit out, he, his wife, and his boy were in one of Helsinki's many parks.  Their son was all bundled up, but he didn't have a hat on.  My colleague noted that 5 times in a one-hour period people came up to them to tell them they really needed a hat for their little boy.  A few others also commented that his stroller would never provide sufficient protection in the winter.  They have since dutifully started dressing their son in hats and got a bigger stroller just to stop the harassment.  Of course, the winter stroller doesn't fit in the old-style elevator in his building, so they now have the joy of carrying it up several flights of stairs.  Better that than cross a Finnish grandmother!

Not everyone, even in the somewhat posh neighborhood where I live, can or wants to afford the big, fancy winter strollers (those things are 100s and 100s of Euros!), though, and that's when Finnish inventiveness takes over.  (After all, babies are too young to have to learn about sisu, right?)  This was another of my hidden-camera shots of one of the ladies at the tram stop.  She has literally covered her baby and carriage in blankets, so much so that I was wondering how the kid was breathing!

One of the things I wondered about during all of this was how or why the Finns pushed those strollers everywhere through ice and mush and snow.  I mean, it seemed like somewhere a better solution had to have been developed.  Then one day in the park I saw this.

Here I really couldn't stop myself and cracked up.  Since the lady noticed I explained what was up, she thought it was funny too when looked at it from a Californian's perspective, and she kindly volunteered to stage a photo.  Those plastic sleds are the bomb, and hers even had a little lip on the back so that she could strap the baby in somewhat upright.  It was actually one of the few I saw like that; more often they were just flat pieces of plastic and the kid was laid out like a log (Michelin log--check out the clothing!).  And, yes, I once saw one kid roll right off the sled, but don't worry; the dad noticed right away.  I mean, it's hard to balance if you're a fuzzy log.  In fact, my personal favorite moment with the little plastic sleds was a parent who'd gone shopping.  The 2-3 year old was laying out flat in the back holding all the groceries on his/her (couldn't tell) tummy while the mom pulled it all along.

As you can see here, some manufacturers really get into doing these things up.  Not only does Dad here have a very high-tech one of these sleds with a big backrest and specially grooved slides (I never actually saw one like this), but he's also able to wear a baby carrier simultaneously.  Thereby, you have the true Finnish "technical/masculine but maternal" dad.

And isn't the baby an adorable Michelin man?

The Snoring Beast

Really, I promise that more informative posts will be coming soon, but since several of you have been laughing at my Facebook posts about Ted and his snoring in my office, I figured I'd share part of why his snores reverberate so.

Yes, that's Ted--truly a fuzzy bear this year, huh?--and, yes, that's my leg in the bottom right corner.  Note how he has his head wrapped around the desk's leg.  While that's not where he sleeps all the time, you can imagine the vibration when he's there and he snores.

Of course, if he starts kicking in his sleep, my phone cord is doomed.

Now I'm back to 14th-century English sermons and more wandering dead people.

My Room in the Grand Hotel Europe

As many of you know, my "holiday" this year was a week in St. Petersburg, Russia (March 2-8).  I know it seems kind of weird to go to Russia in winter, but I just liked the idea (Russia = winter), thought it would be great to go when there weren't a ton of tourists, and figured the weather would be about the same as that in Helsinki anyway (true--St. Petersburg is 1-2 Celsius colder unless you get unlucky and the Siberian winds come in).

Since I thought I'd be alone in St. Petersburg, I figured I'd be decadent.  Better that than having to fight my way around in a country and with a language I don't know.  As it is, one of my friends from California, Jaime, decided to join me, but since that was after I'd booked the trip and gotten the idea of decadence fixed in my mind, I kept to the original plan.

And what a plan it was!

The hotel I'd booked, the Grand Hotel Europe, is a St. Petersburg landmark and has frequently been ranked the best hotel in Russia.  I knew it was pretty amazing just by looking at the website, but I really didn't get a sense of how this luxe would affect me until we checked in.

When we arrived that Saturday I was informed that I'd been upgraded to a suite on the historic floor (Jaime and I had both booked rooms on the historic floor--that is, a floor where they'd retained the historic look of the hotel when they renovated it) because I was here to celebrate my birthday.  I kind of blinked at that, not because it was a month before my birthday, but because I'd mentioned that this was my birthday present to myself in one of the many emails I'd sent organizing the trip.  Then after a brief tour of the hotel by our private butlers (no, I'm not kidding), they led us to our adjoining rooms (more on that later), and I walked into this.

Wow.  Room itself was about 600 square feet not including the entryway, bathroom (quite large, especially by European standards, too), and sun porch.  Yes, I said sun porch.  At the end of this photo, where the plant is, you can see the entrance to it.  It stretched the length of the room; I've got a photo of it a little later.

You can see that it was all done up in 19th-century gilt-and-glitz.  Definitely not my personal style, but definitely part of the experience I'd hoped for with the historic floor.  That being said, I was astonished how comfortable all that old-fashioned looking, gilt furniture was.  Really.

This picture below gives a much better sense of the size of the room, especially when you consider that it's a king-sized bed.  What makes it even more amazing is that I was already in the room when I took this; in other words, the room's actually been somewhat shortened.

Aside from the size, I just loved being back to feather pillows and a feather duvet.  In fact, my only complaint about the room involved them.  The room was so warm that I couldn't really burrow into them without sweating, and the only way to make the room colder was to turn on the AC since the windows were bolted shut for the winter!  That being said, I suffered through, especially when I came back the first evening to find the bed turned down, slippers next to the bed, and all the containers and forms for laundry and shoe cleaning laid out artfully on the bed.  Heck, there was even a menu from which I could choose different styles of pillows if these didn't suit me.  (You've got to be kidding!)

On either side of the bed were these huge, cedar-lined wardrobes.  As you might imagine, my pathetic little wardrobe barely made a dent, especially since the Burgundy duvet was hanging from its own coat rack in the entryway.

Even though I'm not really a chandelier person, this one I liked, I guess because it's more contained than they often are.  Here you can see my entertainment system and the sitting "room."  By American standards, the TV was good, not great--only c. 37".  :-)  One thing I never got to try out was the elaborate DVD library the hotel kept.  I had my own BluRay player in my room, and if I wanted  I could check movies out from the hotel.  I suppose it would've been great if the weather had been bad, but it never got that rough while we were there.

Oh, two other things to notice: the water and the red box.  It turns out that you really shouldn't drink the water in St. Petersburg because it has Guardia in it--a nasty bacteria.  I mean, it's okay to brush your teeth with, etc., but you're taking a chance if you ingest large quantities.  With that in mind, the hotel provided us with ca. 2 liters a day for free, but I'd definitely recommend having a water budget if you're someone who drinks a lot!

The red box was my in-room espresso machine.  Yes, seriously.  In fact, the first morning I decided to make espresso (Jaime's not a big coffee drinker, so I was always craving caffeine long before he was ready for breakfast), I couldn't figure out how to make it work, so I called my butler.  Yes, seriously.

This shot was taken from the doorway leading out to the sun room.  It gives you a better sense of the room's length since it shows the desk area (where I was standing when I took the earlier pictures) and the entryway.  Right off the entryway is the bathroom; more photos to come!

The sun porch--I was in love!  It was only about 4' wide, but it was wide enough for both Jaime and I to move the big chairs from the living area out there and spend the evening talking, drinking champagne (yes, they gave us that in the evening, too, sometimes), and wondering how the other 95% lives. :-)  Although the windows didn't open, if you pulled back the curtains you could look out on Nevsky Prospekt and the road connecting Nevsky with the Russian Museum & Arts Square (the Grand Hotel takes the entire block).  The deep, granite window ledges were perfect for putting stuff on, and since all the wainscoting you see provides a cover for radiators, it was quite toasty out there.  I called it my coffee room.

Back to the bathroom.  Those of you who know me know that I don't generally rave about bathrooms or care how big they are as long as I can do my thing in a comfortable, sanitary environment.  I truly don't get the fetish for large bathrooms--the temptation to make all sorts of raunchy, psychological comments is almost overwhelming--and even this bathroom seemed a bit ridiculous at points.  But there is one thing you must notice here, something that had me jumping up and down within 2 minutes of entering the room: the tub.  And this is no ordinary tub either.  This is a European tub--a big, soaking tub where, when it's full, even someone like me floats and I can fully submerge myself without bending my knees or contorting my neck.  The fact that it was attached to a rain shower and a hand shower were just bonuses.  Yes, a real European tub when I've been bath-deprived since August.  In 5 nights, I took 4 long baths!

You know it's a class act when the tub comes with its own rubber ducky! :-)

Unfortunately this photo really doesn't do the rest of the bathroom justice, in part because it only covers another small section of the bathroom.  The main reason I took this photo, though, unfortunately is hard to see here.  Now I expect some level of hotel toiletries in a better hotel, but I was truly overwhelmed and more than a bit amused by the number of different toiletries the hotel provided, each it is own ecru container with dark blue lettering.  Yes, I had (each in a separate container, remember) a shower cap, bath salts (a decent amount, too), shampoo, creme rinse, conditioner, bath gel, mouth wash, a comb, a nail file, a dental kit, a shaving kit, a "toilet amenities" kit (don't know what that is), and various forms of cotton balls.  I suppose I should be upset that there wasn't a sewing kit, but if I needed sewing, my butler could arrange that. :-)  Oh yeah, I had huge robes with slippers, too.

In case I didn't have enough tables in the room. there was also a desk where I could plan the next day's adventures, and since we wouldn't want me to be stressed from the planning, there was a lovely bouquet of fresh roses on it. :-)  In all seriousness, this has to be the only hotel I've ever been in that had enough plugs next to the desk (4).  Oh, and they also supplied adaptors for all their plugs.

Finally--and, yes, this really is my final gloat--I had waiting for me on the coffee table this large bouquet of flowers (the photo really doesn't do it justice) and a plate with 4 chocolates from their in-house chocolate factory.  Both Jaime and I thought that was a lovely way to welcome us--he had the chocolates, not the flowers--but it turns out that everyday they'd place a tray of 4 chocolates in our room.  Jaime was much more disciplined than I about eating them right away: for me, they were an evening snack; for Jaime, a pre-breakfast treat!