Tales from Russia - a complicated land
The Russia Journey follows the places we visited, from the streets of Moscow to the palaces of St. Petersburg and the monasteries of Sergiyev Posad. These tales capture the moments that stayed with us along the way: unexpected encounters, surprising discoveries, curious characters, and the small experiences that revealed different sides of Russia. Together, they tell a story that goes beyond the landmarks and photographs.
Tales in this collection
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Extra Putins (Moscow)
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Peter the Prankster (Peterhof, St. Petersburg)
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A Step Back in Time in Sergiyev Posad (Sergiyev Posad)
Extra Putins
We first noticed him at the entrance to Red Square — a figure lingering just beyond the flow of people, half in shadow, half in performance. Moscow has its share of impersonators, but this one had a presence. He didn’t approach anyone. He didn’t pose unless invited. He simply existed there, waiting, watching, eyebrows doing half the talking.
And those eyebrows were extraordinary.
He used them like punctuation marks — lifting them sharply to look villainous, lowering them to appear contemplative, arching them in a way that suggested he knew secrets we did not. It was theatrical, but subtle enough that you had to be paying attention to appreciate the craft.
We stood there for a moment, caught between amusement and admiration. He wasn’t selling anything. He wasn’t performing loudly. He was just… being Putin, in the shadows, at the edge of Red Square.
Russia has a way of surprising you. Sometimes it’s smooth vodka. Sometimes it’s a man with expressive eyebrows who can communicate an entire mood without saying a word.
Red Square - not just troops and tanks
Red Square surprised us. We expected something formal, maybe even severe — all stone, ceremony, and history. Instead, it felt fun, relaxed, almost like a giant open‑air living room where everyone was simply enjoying the day. Families wandered, couples posed for photos, and the colors of St. Basil’s Cathedral looked almost playful in the afternoon light.
We found a small café at the edge of the square, the kind of place where you sit down mostly because the chairs look comfortable. Our son ordered vodka shots — one for himself and one for our daughter, who had just reached the legal drinking age. We all waited for the moment. Her first real vodka in Russia. The cough, the grimace, the drama.
Nothing.
It was so smooth it betrayed us. She took the shot like water, blinked once, and shrugged. We were all a little disappointed — and then we laughed, because of course Russia would serve vodka that refuses to behave like vodka.
Red Square wasn’t what we expected. It was better — warm, human, and full of small, memorable moments like this one.
Peter the Prankster
Peter the Great has gone down in history as the man who dragged Russia into the modern European world. He changed cultural institutions, methods of governance, introduced innovative technologies (for the time – he did live from 1672-1725). Russia became a sophisticated power that operated on the world’s stage. He was also brutal and did not suffer fools kindly. This is the Peter that is most known in history.
Visiting Peterhof gives a view into a whole different Peter.
The Pranskter – whimsical Peter.
We were delighted to see the whimsy in his gardens, but he apparently liked to surprise his guests by turning on hidden fountains and soaking them while they strolled through his gardens. We imagined that he laughed and laughed while his guests “went along” with the joke.
Peter was after all also not someone you wanted to be on the wrong side of.
A Step Back in Time in Sergiyev Posad
We were going from Moscow to Sergiyev Posad. The train seemed to be taking us somewhere in the 1950s. Wooden bench seats. Windows that opened only at the top to let a little air into the cabin. We hadn’t reached the countryside yet, and already the journey felt like a step back in time.
Moscow gave way to rural Russia surprisingly quickly. Our guide explained that many families in the area supplemented their meals by foraging in the forests. We looked out at the countryside with that in mind. What had been scenery through a train window was also part of someone’s everyday life.
At the station in Sergiyev Posad, that feeling of an earlier time stayed with us. Then we walked into town. Priests in traditional black robes passed us in the streets, and the wooden benches suddenly seemed almost modern by comparison. Here, the traditions stretched back centuries.
What stayed with us was the sense that this history wasn’t something set aside for visitors to admire. In this traditional Russian Orthodox community, it was still part of the day. We were the ones passing through, trying to take it in.
We had come from Moscow by train, but it felt as though we had travelled much further than that.