Phase 1: Yalta
We arrived in the Crimean city of Simferopol. There are no trains to Yalta, so everyone first has to end up there. As such, in summer, it becomes a crowded place--a transportation hub to more beautiful places. Walking to the ticket stand adjacent the train station, we got accosted no less than a dozen times asking where we wanted to go and why going with them would be better. Actually, in all fairness, most of them addressed Eric. Afterall, he is the man.
We hopped on our bus and sat down waiting for the journey to start. It is a scenic route, and we watched green lush mountains overlooking the Black Sea zoom past us. It did not escape notice that totalled cars and marshrutkas were also a part of the scenery. This road is not the safest.
Getting into Yalta, we settled in and explored the esplanade. I don't know what words my company would use to describe Yalta, but overpriced and gaudy come to my mind, but it has a good feel to it never the less.
We were able to do all the things we wanted to do in a few days. We visited writer Anton Chekhov's summer dacha where he wrote "The Cherry Orchard," "Lady with a Pet Dog" and other stories. The dacha was in excellent condition and had many original belongings of the family. They also had a little more in English about the place and the dacha itself had an English handout to help navigate. These things are rare and were very much appreciated to help enjoy the overall experience.
The next day we headed to Livadia Palace, the summer home of the Romanovs, who like Chekhov, used the fine climate of Crimea as a way of treating their tuberculosis. Of course what this place is especially known for was being the base for the Yalta Conference, the defining meeting in 1945 between FDR, Winston Churchill, and Joseph Stalin to redraw the map of Europe after WWII.
The entire first floor is dedicated to the conference while the upper rooms are shown as the Romanov's have left them. There was little to no English in the Palace, especially on the second floor, where I had to ask the old ladies who guard each room what the room was if I could not understand the Russian write up about it. Some ladies wanted to give me a lot of information and have me regurgitate it back in English--which was beyond my abilities.
I liked the second floor more. I have had a fascination with the Romanovs for years and I don't judge Nicky as harshly as many historians do. Russia is a hard country to rule, no matter who the leader is or what his or her abilities are (at that time the size of Russia engrossed twelve different time zones). It was exciting to be in the their private rooms and think that they must have had some happy times there.
Most memorable for me was visiting the adjacent chapel where literally dozens of people were being baptized--and not just babies either. The Russian Orthodox Church is a religion of mystery, hardship and the strange earthy beauty of these things intertwined. To me it is so inexplicably Russian, and hard to articulate just why. But looking around at all the people crowded around and the children's screaming voices, I thought how lucky I am to come from a country were our rights to worship any religion we chose (or not chose) are guaranteed by our Constitution.
It's hard also to not be overcome by what Alexandra herself must have felt coming here from a Lutheran background. Devoutly relgious, she converted to Orthodoxy in order to marry and become the Tsarina of Russia, but it was a hard decision for her. How foreign it all must have been...
The last thing on our sightseeing tour of Yalta was a ferry to Swallow's Nest, a tiny castle perched high up on a cliff overlooking the Black Sea. Definitely a tourist rip off--as several men made us all pay 3 UAH just to climb the stairs to see it, but it was an interesting little place--and very picturesque.
At night we often strolled the esplanade, watching people who wanted snapsnot mementos chose between period costumes or sitting on the back of a Harley donned in leather. There was the occasional peacock or monkey to take your photo with as well, and other merriment activities.
All in all, Yalta was good.
We hopped on our bus and sat down waiting for the journey to start. It is a scenic route, and we watched green lush mountains overlooking the Black Sea zoom past us. It did not escape notice that totalled cars and marshrutkas were also a part of the scenery. This road is not the safest.
Getting into Yalta, we settled in and explored the esplanade. I don't know what words my company would use to describe Yalta, but overpriced and gaudy come to my mind, but it has a good feel to it never the less.
We were able to do all the things we wanted to do in a few days. We visited writer Anton Chekhov's summer dacha where he wrote "The Cherry Orchard," "Lady with a Pet Dog" and other stories. The dacha was in excellent condition and had many original belongings of the family. They also had a little more in English about the place and the dacha itself had an English handout to help navigate. These things are rare and were very much appreciated to help enjoy the overall experience.
The next day we headed to Livadia Palace, the summer home of the Romanovs, who like Chekhov, used the fine climate of Crimea as a way of treating their tuberculosis. Of course what this place is especially known for was being the base for the Yalta Conference, the defining meeting in 1945 between FDR, Winston Churchill, and Joseph Stalin to redraw the map of Europe after WWII.
The entire first floor is dedicated to the conference while the upper rooms are shown as the Romanov's have left them. There was little to no English in the Palace, especially on the second floor, where I had to ask the old ladies who guard each room what the room was if I could not understand the Russian write up about it. Some ladies wanted to give me a lot of information and have me regurgitate it back in English--which was beyond my abilities.
I liked the second floor more. I have had a fascination with the Romanovs for years and I don't judge Nicky as harshly as many historians do. Russia is a hard country to rule, no matter who the leader is or what his or her abilities are (at that time the size of Russia engrossed twelve different time zones). It was exciting to be in the their private rooms and think that they must have had some happy times there.
Most memorable for me was visiting the adjacent chapel where literally dozens of people were being baptized--and not just babies either. The Russian Orthodox Church is a religion of mystery, hardship and the strange earthy beauty of these things intertwined. To me it is so inexplicably Russian, and hard to articulate just why. But looking around at all the people crowded around and the children's screaming voices, I thought how lucky I am to come from a country were our rights to worship any religion we chose (or not chose) are guaranteed by our Constitution.
It's hard also to not be overcome by what Alexandra herself must have felt coming here from a Lutheran background. Devoutly relgious, she converted to Orthodoxy in order to marry and become the Tsarina of Russia, but it was a hard decision for her. How foreign it all must have been...
The last thing on our sightseeing tour of Yalta was a ferry to Swallow's Nest, a tiny castle perched high up on a cliff overlooking the Black Sea. Definitely a tourist rip off--as several men made us all pay 3 UAH just to climb the stairs to see it, but it was an interesting little place--and very picturesque.
At night we often strolled the esplanade, watching people who wanted snapsnot mementos chose between period costumes or sitting on the back of a Harley donned in leather. There was the occasional peacock or monkey to take your photo with as well, and other merriment activities.
All in all, Yalta was good.
posted by Molly | 3:00 AM
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