The stern-looking lady in the ill-fitting uniform at the Passport Control window took one look at Tramp’s registration papers, then a look at my Australian passport, scowled her face, shook her head and said ‘Nyet’.  Hmm, not a good start to our Russian adventure, you might say.  But after a little translation from the Russian guy behind me in the line who spoke some English she softened up a bit, rang her supervisor and after ten minutes or so Julie and I were stamped into Russia.  Getting Tramp stamped into Russia proved a bit harder.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

We had just come from central Finland and while it is said that 72% of Finland is covered by forest when you look at a map of the country between the capital Helsinki and the northern town of Rovaniemi you see lakes completely dominating the landscape.  And islands.  Finland’s largest lake has 3,000 islands and as you drive through the country it seems every Finn could own their own island and there would still be some leftover.

We weaved our way through these beautiful lakes for two days, on the first day stopping at Kuopio for fabulous views of the surrounding area from a tower on top of what passes for a mountain in these parts.  We also enjoyed a pleasant lake cruise from the cute lakeside town of Savonlinna, positioned on interconnected islands and sporting a handsome 15^th century castle the Swedes built to defend their territory from the nearby Russians.  Commentary on the boat cruise was in four languages – Finnish, English, German and Russian.  We heard Russian spoken many times.

The following day we drove south through more lakes and along the Russian border to Lappeenranta.  Finland has had an uneasy relationship with their big neighbour Russia, only gaining their independence in 1917 and then being forced to cede 11% of their land back to Russia as part of the settlement of WWII.  They are on opposite sides of the geo-political fence and yet their history is closely intertwined.

Which takes us to the Russian border again.  All through Central and South America we had trouble with Tramp’s registration papers because it is a small quarter-page tear off sheet that looks very unofficial and because the customised licence plate number doesn’t have any numbers in it.  The friendly Customs official helped us fill in the temporary import forms again (we did them wrong the first time) and after three consultations with his supervisor – and a growing line of impatient returning Russian drivers behind us in the line – we got Tramp stamped into Russia.

We then had the cursory search of the truck which included me raising Tramp’s top so the Customs official could look through our fridge and cupboards – the first border crossing on this trip when I had to do that – and then a polite wave through the border.  That wasn’t too bad.  But wait…we were flagged down at the last second and Julie was asked to step out of the car and then escorted in to sit inside.  A Customs official climbed into Julie’s seat and instructed me to drive around to the huge X-ray machine nearby.  After some more delays Tramp was X-rayed, the third time he’s had that privilege, Julie and I were reunited and we drove off into Russia.

But we needed insurance and our European insurance is not valid in Russia.  So after visiting about six different buildings at petrol stations and restaurants down the road we finally convinced someone – again with the help of a local translator – to sell us some mandatory insurance.  It’s not easy – all the signs are completely indecipherable and many people just shake their heads, even with the help of Google Translate, because its all a bit hard for them.  You need to be polite but persistent.

The drive from the border to the gleaming city of St. Petersburg only takes a couple of hours and passes through the continuation of forests and lakes we had been seeing for the last couple of weeks.  Speed limits were completely ignored and slower drivers pull over on the shoulder – which can be a bit tricky – to let faster drivers blitz past them.  Trucks can pass slower trucks simultaneously in both directions which gives you the disconcerting view through your front window of four trucks abreast on a two lane road.

We entered St Petersburg on a warm Sunday afternoon and the city absolutely sparkled like few cities can.  After passing through the drab Soviet-built apartment skyrises on the outskirts our GPS took us directly through the downtown area.  The stately 18^th and 19^th century buildings, while perhaps a bit jaded, still provided grand borders to the wide streets and expansive parks of the city.  We caught glimpses of the original walled fortress, orthodox churches with their shiny golden domes and crossed many of the canals that criss-cross the city.

We camped that night in the less-than-glamorous carpark of the Elizer Hotel but caught the Metro back into town to explore the city’s main street, the Nevsky Prospekt, and take in the fabulous atmosphere of this bopping city on a Sunday evening.  Impromptu street bands were playing everywhere, people young and old were strolling the wide thoroughfares, enjoying a beer at one of the many sidewalk eateries, cruising the canals or just dragging main.  With the exception of a few high cheekbones and pale complexions you could easily be mistaken to think you were walking down a street in Sydney or San Francisco.

The next day in St. Petersburg was a wonderful whir of culture, history, architecture, food and language.  We started with the double decker sightseeing bus to give us an overview but also visited the large Peter and Paul Fortress, part of the original founding of this city by Peter the Great in 1703.  We took a hydrofoil out to the Peterhof Palace, built in the 18^th century for Peter and today sometimes referred to as the Russian Versailles.  The gardens were fantastic but the various fountains in the gardens were the standout hit.

On the ride back to St. Petersburg our hydrofoil broke down and after numerous attempts by our harried crew to get it started again we were joined by another hydrofoil who tied up next to us and slowly dragged us back to our starting point.  From there we transferred to another boat and made our way home.  Curiously, or perhaps not, the Russians on board didn’t seem to bat an eye, just took it all in stride as if nothing happened.  Perhaps its more amazing that we made it out there in the first place.

We saw St. Isaac’s Cathedral and the amazing church, now museum, with the equally amazing name Church of the Savior of Spilled Blood, named as such because it is built on the site of the assassination of Alexander I.  The church’s interior walls are covered in detailed and elaborate mosaics while the exterior features colourful domes in the Eastern Orthodox fashion.  We loved it.

Mixed in with all of this we absorbed this amazing city, hit numerous souvenir shops, chuckling about all the unsold FIFA World Cup paraphernalia and the wide array of T-shirts you can buy with different poses of Vladimir Putin.  One shirt featured Putin and Trump but the sales lady scoffed at it, saying “one of them is crazy and the other one is scary”.  We weren’t too sure which she thought was which.

As we looked at normal-looking people going about their normal lives in this anything-but-normal city we had to remember where we were and the huge challenges they have had both historically – such as the German siege of the city for 900 days in WWII – politically, economically, religiously and socially.  This is a repressed and controlled society, the absolute opposite of the world we come from.  But the language gap was rarely a problem as most people, especially the younger ones, spoke some English, and our biggest challenge was the complete lack of focus on customer service – especially in restaurants and bars where it seemed customers were an unwanted distraction to doing nothing.

The next day we caught the metro again to the famous Hermitage Museum, one of the great museums of the world, rivalling the likes of the Louvre and British Museum.  Started by Catherine the Great in the 18^th century, the museum spans a number of enormous buildings which were previously the Winter Palace and other large complexes.

The Hermitage is said to hold over 3 million pieces, only a fraction of which are usually on display, including the largest collection of paintings in the world.  In addition to fabulous furniture and art from Russia’s colourful history it also houses things like Egyptian antiquities and masterpieces from artists all over Europe such as Rembrandt, Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, amongst hundreds of artists.

We had allocated about four hours to explore the museum before expecting to run out of museum-puff and needing to get on the road towards Moscow.  As it turned out, of those four hours two of them were spent standing in the 32C/90F sun queuing for tickets and the other two hours were spent inside shouldering through thousands of people in hot stagnant rooms.  It was an extraordinary experience, shuffling through hundreds spectacular rooms, splattered in gold, huge chandeliers, 15 metre ceilings, the exquisite furniture, the flooring, windows and drapes, just numbed by the splendour of it all.

In different sections you could walk down an endless corridor with huge 17^th century French tapestries or dine out on hundreds of portraits of 18^th century Russian generals. There’s marble sculptures, jewellery, military armoury (very good); there were palace ball rooms, throne rooms, boudoirs and libraries.  We chanced upon three Rembrandts but to be fair we also spent quite a bit of time consulting the confusing map and trying to figure out not just what room we were in but what floor we were on.  Melted, educated, saturated and trampled we somehow found the exit and crawled to safety.  It had been quite an experience.

We returned to Tramp and found the E105 highway connecting St. Petersburg to Moscow.  The word highway significantly overstates both the quality and quantity of the road but between the trucks, the small towns and the potholes we managed to average about 80 kph (50mph) and were lucky to find a roadside motel/café that let us camp behind them for the night.

And by the way, the title of this blog post is На здоровье and is best pronounced Nostrovia.  Nostrovia in Russia means ‘Cheers’ or ‘To your health’.  Now you know.

Our introduction to Russia had been full-on and we loved it but next comes the big boy – Moscow.