A bit of a pilgrimage this morning. I have kept St. Peter and Paul’s prison in my
mind’s eye for many years now. And I've spied it across the Neva every day since we arrived here. It’s the
prison fortress that Peter Kropotkin escaped from. I
think I always knew I’d see it sooner or later and there it is. Across the water. Within walking distance. Everyone wants to sleep. Fine.
I’m going over this morning.
The walk isn’t long. But as happens in St. Petersburg you can’t
make up your mind I you’ve brought to many clothes or not enough. It’s breezy and I zip up my coat but them
I’m sweaty walking over the bridge and I need to take something off. There are many, many Chinese people in
groups. I come up on one guy inside who
is pushing the lady I’m buying a tee shirt from about whether she’ll take
RMB. I tell him in Chinese that its
rather obvious that she won’t . And I ask him "What are you thinking?" He was suitably gobsmacked.
I visit the place where
the Tsars are buried. Good metaphor
before going to see Turbesokoy prison.
Yes the shop gal confirms, it exists. Yes, they know
that Kropotkin was there. Yes, it’s over there, around the corner. The guy who
takes my tickets confirms that Peter's cell is upstairs. Many martyrs of the revolutionary period have
signs depicting who they were, what they were accused of. Eventually, up top I found one of Kropotkin’s
cell. I went in an stood, and stared and
considered him and his sentence and this environment for a bit. And I played out the famous scene when the
Tsar’s brother visits him in the cell and tries to get him to breakdown and ask
for forgiveness. I play out what I
might have done and consider it silly.
The sign outside says no
one ever escaped. The text in the book
says no one ever escaped. Why? Kropotkin had a dramatic escape. Doesn’t everyone know this? Why don’t they play it up, Hollywood
style? Instead of trying to suggest the
place was impregnable. I look round
outside and try to find the place he darted off from into the awaiting
cab. I wish I could visualize it but I
can’t it seems like it must have been impossible. Where would the cab ride
to? How did it get off the island? Where was the place they let him walk around in? It’s such a great story and they blow it with
this dull history suggesting the human mind never found a way out. I go to ask the guy and he
nods and says: "Yes, you're right. "but I’m not sure he knew what I was asserting.
Later I see a nifty nineteenth century museum as well as
a twentieth century museum and a museum of Beaux Arts that round off my visit
to St. Peter and Paul Fortress. On the way home though,
I take a cab and realize the cab fares are as expensive as they appear to
be. They guy yesterday hadn’t ripped us
off. He just drove around in a bunch of
silly circles and ran up the meter. This guy and I have a nice, stilted chat and he points out the former, local, headquarters of the KGB to me, as we turn tup the road to my Airbnb.
Saturday 7/07/18
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