It's Vappu time!

One of Finland's main national holidays is Vappu.  It seems to be a combination between International Worker's Day (a form of Labor Day celebrated outside of the US), May Day, and 48 Hours of Partying Because It's Warmer and Lighter.  Yes, the Finns manage to cram a truly impressive number of national holidays between early April and June 21 (Midsummer's Day)! 

In any case, I had to participate for at least part of the time in this national holiday devoted to alcohol and outdoor parties, so on April 30 at the end of work I joined the crowds heading down to Esplanadi to celebrate the official opening ceremony of Vappu.  Unfortunately the picture just doesn't do it justice; when I left the office at 5:15 I was shocked by the number of people heading down towards Esplanadi and across to Senate Square.

The official beginning of Vappu is the crowning of the statue of Havis Amanda, which is in a fountain where the Market Square and Esplanadi meet.  You can't avoid the symbolism: a statue of a nude woman has a student cap put on her head by students at one of Helsinki's universities to mark the beginning of the warm season.  What a surprise?  Students noticing a naked lady?!  Neahhhh.

Well, when we got to Esplanadi it was completely packed, especially by Finnish standards; a few days later I learned that there'd been about 50,000 people in that c. 4-block stretch and park.  It was kind of fun to compare this to the Rally to Restore Sanity in DC a couple of years ago.  Here everyone kept slowly moving down, but until you got RIGHT next to the statue there was definite personal space around people; none of the crazy crowding with the Rally.  There were also tons of kids, strollers, balloons ... you name it, and most people were also holding champagne because it's traditional to toast Vappu with sparkling wine.

This shot was taken looking across from where I was standing--about 2 blocks from the statue since I had Ted with me--into the Esplanade park.  It looks less crowded that it was because (1) I took this about 1/2 an hour before the crowning and (2) the City of Helsinki had fenced off large areas of grass in the park itself to keep it from getting too beaten up.

 

This is looking down away from the statue when it got a little closer to the time of the crowning.

 

The actual crowning was kind of funny because there really wasn't any way to tell it had happened if you were standing anywhere other than right next to the statue.  There was no countdown and no big yell, and you couldn't really see anything other than the crane where chosen members from this year's chosen student club/organization were standing in preparation for the crowning.  At some stage there was a slightly louder noise and some people started waving these sailor caps.

Turns out the sailor caps are student caps, worn by the graduates of schools preparing students for university.  People buy them and keep them their entire lives to wear during celebrations like Vappu and in celebrations held by student clubs from these schools and the universities.  Throughout the Vappu celebrations and for a few days afterwards, you'd see groups of people like these wandering around Helsinki's streets wearing the caps.  BTW, they t'ain't cheap either; we saw them in Stockmann yesterday on sale for 100 Euros!  Is it too evil to say that I kept having weird flashbacks to Fleet Week in San Francisco?  :-)

Well, after the somewhat anticlimactic crowning (but very fun chatting with fellow participants) I started meandering with Ted up Esplanadi.  I must admit that I was curious about what I'd see.  All the Finns I knew and people who'd lived here for awhile apologize repeatedly in advance for the massive public drunkenness I'd see.  Yes, being embarrassed about public drunkenness seems to be a common Finnish concern, but it sure isn't common enough to stop the drinking. :-)  That being said, I've never found it to be that big of a deal; then again, after 4 years in Dublin it's legit to wonder about my standards!

What I didn't expect to see was a group of performers in costumes highly indebted to Hollywood's idea of Native America.  I'm trying to figure out WHERE on the Great Plains you could find feathers like that!

This gives you a better sense of the student caps, and as you can see, they're worn by folks of all ages.  You can also see these outfits that were clearly just worn by students of university age.  I hear they're current members of student organizations much like American fraternities and sororities, but they're co-ed and many of these groups are at the more technical and business schools.

In any case, I got to be quite the expert at taking stealth photos of these outfits, which I thought were quite fun.  I mean, I sure as heck would've done this when I was in college!  Mind you, I don't think I needed to be especially "stealth" about it: the students had been celebrating most of the day ... and probably the weekend before!

One of the things the students seem to do is collect patches, like you can see on the pants worn by the guy above.  I presumed that older or more senior members were the ones with more patches, although who knows if that's the case.  If it is, these guys were mere kiddies.

It was only after I took this picture that I learned that the mixed color pants (here yellow with part of one leg blank) signified that this student had dated or was dating (I think both apply) someone from a different club.  I kept thinking that this was a pretty strong way to eliminate much playing the field.  Imagine the pari-colored pants!

And, as a brief aside, can't say I would sew a patch that says "big" right on my butt. (Blow up the picture and you'll see what I mean.)

While Vappu is known for its all-night raucous celebrations (think Finnish Mardi Gras) I admit that I didn't see anything particularly shocking.  I'm sure there were some pretty toasty people on the Esplanade, especially closer to the statue, but it was still quite an acceptable family celebration.  Walking back to the Towers I ran into a couple of groups of high school students sitting on park benches who'd clearly begun celebrating, including one guy who was having a deep and meaningful discussion with a crocus.  I don't know who laughed harder, me or his friends.  (The official drinking age in Finland is 18, but I understand that kids as young as 12 or 13 can buy alcohol or are given alcohol depending on the older folks involved.)   I mean, don't we all do stupid things as kids, and sitting in a park drinking is relatively low on the juvenile stupid scale.

I got back to the Towers at the relatively staid hour of 8 pm (I had to get stuff done the next day before friends arrived in town a few days later), but some of the folks I knew from the Collegium were out until the wee hours drinking champagne, listening to bands, and doing the tango.  (Yep)  At least the weather cooperated this year, unlike last year where it rained all day.

Vappu proper was May 1, and basically Finns celebrate that much like Americans do Labor Day: picnics in the parks with barbeques and more drinking.  Since most Finns in Helsinki don't have backyards, the traditional place for picnics is Kaivopuisto Park down at the southern end of Helsinki; unfortunately when I went down there to take a look, I forgot to bring my camera.  While I loved the idea of the picnic and myself spent most of the day on the porch, even if I had to use my down coat as a blanket to do it, the crowds at Kaivopuisto didn't do it for me.  I was much more with those folks who picnicked at the parks around us!

As for the day after Vappu, let's just say a lot of people were a wee bit late to the Collegium.

Must introduce this part to Columbia!  Maybe that can become the excuse for my diaquiri party?

Spring has sprung!

Less than a month ago there was still some snow piles around, although all the paths had been clear--and were muddy--for several weeks before that.

Then about 10 days ago, Helsinki went green (This is from one of the beautiful public parks near Bulevardi.

It's actually amazed me how quickly things have greened up once the weather got consistently (well, relatively so) above freezing.

That being said, the Californian in me laughs at my reactions to things: clearly the spring here hits me in this atavistic way.  I mean, I get excited every time I see small clumps of flowers, like the little blue ones and small crocuses that keep popping up all over--not just in flower beds.  And when I actually saw daffodils (c. 4 days ago) blooming you'd have thought I'd won the lotto.

I'm still amazed, though, that there are no leaves on the trees even though it's May!  I mean, gradually they're coming on, but as you can see from this picture taken less than a week ago, there's still a ways to go.

Not surprisingly, it really depends on where the plants are located.  Yesterday, when I was running around Suomenlinna with a couple of friends, any tree or shrub that was exposed looked much like the picture above, while those that were a little more sheltered from the weather had little, tiny leaves--maybe 1 inch long.

Even though spring is finally coming, for me the weather is only borderline: 30s at night and high 40s to low 50s during the day.  For the Finns, however, that must be balmy because, if the sun's out, so are they!  Just a week ago, we had a beautiful, sunny day in the 40s, so what happened at the restaurant across from the tram stop?  People HAD to eat outside!

I've also been enjoying all the springtime outdoor festivities--more about Vappu, or the Finnish holiday devoted to alcohol, in a later post--even those just across the street in the park.  Last Tuesday during the Vappu celebrations I noticed all these camping places and teepee-shaped tents setting up on the park.  I figured it was a bunch of teenagers getting ready to spend the night out partying, although I kept thinking that there HAD to be a better place than our park.  Turns out that it was a Boys & Girls Scout day where they were taught to identify aspects of the natural urban habitat (Thank goodness for Scout banners and friendly, informative people!).  I can't say that I would've chosen our park for that, but I guess any excuse for a day in the sun!

Eating in SP (Grand Hotel edition)

While in SP, I must admit that I wasn't the most adventurous thing when it came to food.  Believe it or not, it wasn't because of the guardia in the water, although that would've been a sensible reason to be conservative.  Frankly it was because of the schedule that Jaime and I just happened to fall into.

Most mornings we'd stagger downstairs somewhere around 9:30 or 10--don't worry, I'd fortified myself with my in-room espresso maker long before--and we'd go to this cafe/bar they had in the building's courtyard.  Actually the whole thing was very comfortable and clever.  They'd glassed in the opening over the courtyard to make this usable year-round, but they set up the chairs and decoration like a high-end cafe, albeit one with much more space than most outdoor cafes I've ever been to.

I couldn't tell if the balconies were actually real, but my impression is that they were not; it seemed to me like most of the GHE rooms looked out over one of the neighboring streets.  Then again, it might be nice to have the light the courtyard provided but with less noise than some of the busier streets.

Whatever the layout, it was a great place to get good breakfast, snacks, other lighter food, drinks and desserts for what was a reasonable price by GHE standards.  In fact, my impression was that most of the restaurants in the hotel, or at least in our end and floor of it, used the same kitchen, so Jaime and I were pretty pleased we found this one on the second day.  $70 a day for fancy breakfast just wasn't what either of us wanted.

That being said, we were pretty decadent when it came to our main meal.  Like I said above, we often ended up on this schedule where we left the hotel c. 10-11 am and toured crazily until c. 3 pm by which time we were dying for some food.  Then, sheer, unadulterated laziness set in; it just seemed like too much effort to go out and try to find someplace that was good, where we didn't feel taken as tourists (standard tourist city problem, not a comment against SP), and that was safe with the water.  So we fell back on the hotel's restaurants, which were really quite varied and good.  In fact, it was only by the last night that I think we both were getting to the stage that we wanted to head out and, even then, we'd been too busy that day to bother.

That being said, we did somehow find time to drink.  In fact, one night we made our dinner out of drinks and bar food, pretty funny for two people who aren't generally heavy drinkers (Jaime especially).  It wasn't hard to do when the setting was like this, though, and they brought us multi-tiered trays of nuts, olives, and high-end party mix with every round of drinks.  For some reason, we just didn't feel like moving, especially when there was an extensive cocktail list to try!

The real dining highpoint of the trip was, however, the Sunday brunch at the GHE.  I'd read about this in multiple places, and even thought it wasn't cheap, Jaime and I decided to go for it.  Definitely worth every penny!!

First of all, the main dining room at the GHE really is one of those 19th-c. dining palaces, and it's been beautifully restored.  Most of the seating is on the ground floor; it's possible to go up into the balcony, but I don't think there are any dining tables there.  As you can see here, the stained glass truly is extraordinary, and musicians on the stage played both beautifully and discreetly.  Given how much I generally hate live music at a restaurant, that last point was important to me!

This gives you a little bit of the sense of the buffet set-up, but this is just an "ordinary" morning.  Yes, the restaurant is buffet for its breakfasts and brunches and turns into more formal seating at night.  That being said, the buffet here is quite understated compared to the Sunday brunch set-up.  First, there are no enormous ice sculptures; second, there are no fountains; third, there is no special buffet for caviar and vodka.  No, I'm not making any of that up!

Here's another shot of the room in the more traditional dining room arrangement.  Now imagine down the center this series of large buffets.  First the caviar and vodka, then all sorts of elaborate crudities and salads (and not the stupid and cheap green salad variety) followed by another salads and casserole-type buffet and the most enormous circular, 4-tiered display of breads and rolls I've ever seen.  Then, curving around the side by the stage, in front of the stage, and under the balconies were huge displays of fruits and fruit salads, an Italian-style antipasto bar, a collection of warmers with eggs, meats and other hot foods, a chef who would make custom blinis or omelettes, a display of c. 15 different cakes plus chocolates and gelati, and (finally) a tea, chocolate, and espresso bar with a barrista that puts any other I've ever seen to shame (and he clearly too great pride in doing the perfect espresso, cappuccino, you name it).

When we arrived, our lovely waiter (he's pictured below) seated us and made sure that we immediately had coffee, champagne (Ukrainian--and I'd buy it again in a MINUTE.  It was lovely!) and vodka.  Wouldn't want us to want for anything, right! :-)

Jaime and I both gained new respect for vodka that morning--and not for the reason you think!  Honestly I've always thought of vodka as particularly nasty: thin, burning, tasteless.  This was the hotel's "house" brand, so I was braced for something somewhat like that, albeit maybe a bit smoother.  I figured I'd drink it to be polite, then move to what I liked, and Jaime was on much the same wavelength.

Well,  vodka at the GHE is not served in any ordinary shotglass; it's served in this miniature wineglass that must hold the equivalent of 2-3 shots per pour.  (Jaime's IPhone is next to it for comparison.)  Then, there was the vodka itself.  It was smooth.  It was warmish.  It was oh so easy to drink.  Unlike Jaime, I just couldn't do the "down in one" the waiter recommended, but even then it was completely pleasant--and completely unexpected.  I now understood the Russian obsession with vodka, even though I switched from there to the yummy Ukrainian champagne.  Jaime continued to show his respect for Russia by alternating vodka and champagne throughout our 4-hour meal.

Yes, you read right: 4 hours.  There were just so many amazing dishes there, all prepared with a quality-level of the best restaurants, not the over- and re-heated things you associate with a buffet.  Then, too, our waiter was so good (that's him below); he believed in the glass half-empty, not glass half-full school of pouring.  Then, three, Jaime and I had LOTS of catching up to do, and vodka and champagne do ease the talking!  Then, four, the people watching was extraordinary.

Not surprisingly, a $100 breakfast in a city and country with the economic issues of modern Russia brings out a certain group of people.  While Jaime was fascinated with some of the elderly folks behind me and the "we're too cool for school" French speakers next to us, eventually we both focused on a group sitting slightly behind Jaime.  They were two Russian couples; one had two impeccably dressed little girls, while with the other the wife (who was stunning) was probably 7-8 months pregnant.  We both got a kick out of the mixture of celebration and nonchalance the women showed, while the guys were clearly getting a kick out of taking their wives for a big birthday celebration.  The high point was when our waiter brought out the birthday cake, complete with sparklers.  Everyone was suitably pleased and embarrassed at the reaction of everyone around (smiles & applause), while our waiter handled it with charm and aplomb.

 

After cake and sparklers, Jaime and I were inspired to, once again, sample from the dessert buffet, while of course, washing things down with champagne or, in my case, spiked cappuccinos.  Is it any wonder that we had to go wander around for an hour or two after this and just didn't have any appetite for dinner that night?  (although there the chocolates and drinks in the room, enjoyed on the sun porch, surely helped).

Yep, it was a meal to end all meals.

Church of the Spilled Blood

As I mentioned in my earlier blog, the Church of the Spilled Blood is by no means the largest, most beautiful, or most historically or religiously significant church in SP, but I'd guess that it IS one of the most photographed.  That's probably based on a couple of factors.  One is location; it's right between Nevsky Prospekt and the Winter Palace and easily visible down one of the main canals.  You'd have to be blind to miss it.  Two, it is this amazing confection of Orthodox gingerbread, vibrant colors, and imperial symbolism and aspirations, all in this compact and immediate package (unlike the scope and grandeur of St. Isaac's or the grandiosness of Kazan Cathedral).  Three, you can even feel virtuously historical while taking photos, since the whole reason for the church's existence is to commemorate and inspire prayers for the "spilled blood" of Czar Alexander II.  I mean, it's a tourist trifecta!

So here is Jaime's homage to the Church of the Spilled Blood.  Really wonderful photos!

I couldn't decide which of these photos I liked best.  The top one gives a better sense of the colors, while the bottom one is more suggestive of the ambiance.  Besides, I like the glowing dome on the bottom!

One of the great things about the church is that you can easily walk all the way around it, so here are some close-ups of our circumnavigation.

The mosaics and other decorations above the doors outside were striking.

One of the things I've always found both beautiful and exotic ever since I first saw them in Alaska as a kid are the "onion domes" on the Orthodox church towers.  Here they're covered with colored, geometric decorations.

 (Yes, I know this picture is ostensibly underexposed, 

poorly lit, whatever, but I actually prefer it for its atmospherics.)

I particularly had to giggle at the prominent display of Romanoff eagles everywhere, but given the church's origins, it makes a twisted sort of sense.

Across the street, next to the little market that's developed there, is this interesting, much more understated building.  I was wondering if it was the church's baptistry, but since the gates were locked whenever we went by, I didn't go check it out in more detail.  One of its aspects that really struck me was the shape of the building itself and its tower; you can see the latter better in the second picture.

On a somewhat tangential note, you should see what Blogger tries to substitute for grandiose, Romanoff, and baptistry.  Is it required that we be illiterate to blog?!

Last Homage to Winter

As I sit here on a sunny day, albeit one that's still only 45 degrees, I figured I'd post my last flurry of winter photos.  (Sorry I couldn't resist.)  So here's to the memory of a winter past!

You know, I actually kind of think Ted misses the snow, although he rarely rolled or went crazy in it.  It just had so many new smells!

 
Ah, yes, the days of walking the corridor of ice bounded by mountains of snow!

In memory of massive fuzz ... you know, the fuzz that I'm now brushing off almost everyday!

Wandering the St. Petersburg Streets

First off, let me apologize for being so long between posts.  No good excuses, just the ones that everyone shares: life, busyness, laziness, etc.

That being said, I've decided to spend Saturday morning catching up on some of my blogging and to get some of the information about and inspiration of St. Petersburg on paper before it fades completely away.  So here goes!

Like many tourists we spent most of our time within the inner rings of the city, that is, the part that was really developed by Peter the Great and his immediate successors.  Being someone who HAS to have a visual to make sense of any city, here's Lonely Planet's simplified map of the heart of St. Petersburg. (The Grand Hotel, GHE, is at the "r" in "Nevsky pr.")  For us foreign tourist types, one of the things that makes this part of the city so impressive is its relative architectural uniformity.  It's a beautiful city in part because the extremely powerful, absolutist rulers of Russia were able to make it a political and social necessity for their nobility and bureaucracy to build palaces there, and once the Russian nobility started building, with their enormous wealth, the city just took off.  In other words, St. Petersburg is filled with 18th- and early 19th-century palaces, and even the buildings between the palaces share the architectural style in the city center.  As a planned imperial city, it's really quite striking.

When you walk out of the Grand Hotel on of the many impressive and nearby sights is the tower marking the seat of the Duma, that is, the town administration.  If you look to the left, you'll see this other building--today I think it's part of a series of stores--modeled on a Grecian temple.  I must admit that one of the things that amused me was the number of buildings in St Petersburg that were modeled on famous buildings elsewhere.  While I realize that much 18th- & 19th-century architecture was derivative, as you'll see, there's a difference between derivative and a copy.  You'll see what I mean when we get to the mini-St. Peters.

This is one of the many palaces lining Nevsky Prospekt, which is today one of the main and more fashionable streets in St. Petersburg.  While I'm probably wrong about this, to me, it really seems like a "typical" St. Petersburg palace: imposing facade with high windows (that is, it can be defended if necessary), neoclassical style with perhaps just a bit too much gingerbread to make it truly neoclassical, and this amazing pastel color.  The colors, in particular, really surprised me, although they shouldn't: I mean, the Romans painted their buildings and I'm always telling my students how the "simple" interiors of Gothic cathedrals were riots of color in the past--we just seeing their structure, their bones, if you will.  Still, it's funny to see your words in practice.  And I just don't get the pastel fetish.

On our first full day there, Jaime and I went for a long walk down Nevsky Prospekt, around and past the winter palace, out to the Peter and Paul Fortress (across the river), through the Fortress to its far (left-hand) end, across two bridges alongside the naval school and Botanical Gardens, and meandering back towards the GHE on Nevsky.  It took about 3 hours in weather in the teens, but since we were decently dressed and it was sunny, it only felt that bad the last 1/4 mile.  I mention this because you'll see snow in most of the pictures.  Those were the ones Jaime took and reflect how it really looked when we were there.  Don't I plan things well, traveling with people who are both good at and like to take pictures? :-)

Just down Nevsky Prospekt from where we were staying (towards the Neva river) was the Griboyedova canal, one of 3 main, semi-circular canals that mark the old part of the city.  Like Venice, St. Petersburg was built on a marsh for military purposes, so it has tons of waterways running through it, all designed to control overflow.  Unlike Venice, these canals freeze in the winter.  No night-time canal tours for us!

In the distance is a famous sight that we walked past almost everyday: the Church of the Spilled Blood.  (It was named because Czar Alexander II was assassinated here, and the church was meant to honor him.)  It's an amazing confection in blues and gold with, not surprisingly, imperial eagles everywhere.  More specific pictures are coming in a later post; Jaime had a field day with the details and the lighting, like any photographer would!

Here's a picture from a few days later when it was brighter.  Even this doesn't give you a sense of the detail and glitter in this amazing church.

Right behind the GHE and between it and the Church of the Spilled Blood was the main branch of the Russian Museum.  The Russian Museum in St. Petersburg is much like the Smithsonian in DC: although there is ostensibly a central building, there are actually many museums and even a few palaces in the city under its curatorship.  It holds a really astonishing collection of early Russian history, and I'm sure it's Revolutionary materials are outstanding, given what happened in St. Petersburg, but I ran out of time to see them.

This is the Stroganoff Palace, famous and very prestigious Russian noble family, family for whom especially yummy dinner is named!  If you want information about the city's MANY palaces and about the city in general, I recommend two websites: Saint-Petersburg.com and Nevsky-Prospekt.com.  Several Russian colleagues recommended the former, while I found the latter a great resource about a whole series of impressive but less prestigious palaces scattered around the city.  Both also have great photos!

Just behind us was one of the main renovation projects going on in the city.  To be honest, one of the more striking things in SP was the variation in restoration.  Some buildings were in great shape, while others were missing huge chunks of plaster.  Then there were the differences between what was visible publicly and what was in the inside courtyards; the latter was STRIKING at the Peter and Paul Fortress.  While some of it is understandable given the difficulties of maintenance in SP's climate, it was also a testimony to the way capitalism run rampant underlies so much of modern Russian society.  Basically the buildings that were in good shape were ones that people, companies, or the government could make money on.

 

Here it is, the Russian St. Peter's, otherwise known as Kazan Cathedral.  Impressive church, but when you've seen the real thing, it becomes more impressive as a statement of imperial aspirations and resources--and that isn't necessarily flattering.

A great bookstore and a good, if overpriced, cafe is housed here in the Singer building next to the canal pictured above.  And, yes, it's now called Singer based on the Singer of sewing machine fame.

One of the things I've liked about architecture both in SP and here in Helsinki are the details on the buildings.  The next few pictures show the type of decoration that was found all over the buildings in the heart of SP.  And, by the way, look at the bright turquoise building across the canal from the Singer.  See what I mean about painted buildings.  (While it does look odd to me, I must admit that it really brightened up the place on cold and gray winter days.)

Did you really think I'd leave out the Hermitage/Winter Palace?  (Yes, they're officially two different things, but it's too complicated to explain and, in the modern world, doesn't really matter.)  Yep, the reason I went to SP for the art collection--most of which isn't on display.  When Jaime gets his more detailed pictures of the Hermitage loaded, I'll post separately about it, but let's just say it is quite impressive, although, funnily enough, not as grandiose as I expected.  I think part of the reason it seemed more understated than I expected was because of the huge public square in front of it, one that was clearly designed for staging entrances, performances, etc.  Another reason is that because, in many ways, all of SP is an imperial stage, and there are so many other impressive palaces in close proximity that it simultaneously blends in and stands out.  The blue-green paint is odd to see in person, too, although I'd see it in tons of photographs.  It makes it stand out, but it also makes it homier, too--probably not an impression the czars were going for. :-)

Once we walked across the huge square we slipped into one of the side streets that now exist between wings of the palace.  Is it just me, or does this look like something straight out of Venice (minus the ice, that is)?

And, remember, don't try to moor in the ice!

You can imagine what fun these cobblestones were to walk on, although SP was actually much easier to navigate than Helsinki at that time.  By early March, the ice was off the main walkways; it helps when you have a MUCH larger population.  Some side streets and all the parks were still treacherous, but it didn't keep the Russian women from running around in 3-4" heels!

I dealt with the issue by slipping and basically genuflecting in front of the Winter Palace.  I'm sure someone was wondering why I was so overcome.  Jaime had another problem; his boots just couldn't take the pace!

I've always thought "walking my shoes into the ground" was a metaphor.  Yes, we learned all about Russian shoe repair!