The diamond fountains shoot up

Exultantly to heavens.

-- A. Pushkin

'The Russian Versailles' and 'The Capital of Fountains' are some of the names used to describe Peterhof in tour guides. Eternal mists and the incessant pounding waves of the Baltic Sea hide a truly magnificent pearl, created by the genius of Russian tzar Peter I, known as Peter the Great.

I spent a part of my childhood in Peterhof, running along the alleys and hiding between the fountains, where children of the Russian pre-Red Revolution nobility and royal family used to play before me. The beauty and splendour of the parks and palaces, the cool welcome of the fountains and the soft rustle of the leaves moved by the Baltic wind will forever remain etched in my memory as a northern version of paradise. I shall never forget a feeling that the court and the servants are still there, that they look at the visitors from the depth of the past and smile, when we appreciate their effort of turning the barren shores of the Baltic Sea into the happy land of enjoyment.

Peterhof means 'Peter's court' in Dutch or German. The place first came into existence in 1705, when a rest-house was built for the young tzar Peter who was frequently travelling between his new capital Saint Petersburg and sea fortress Kronshtadt. Peter was captivated by the beauty and splendour of French royal estates and wanted to prove to the whole world that the New Russian Empire under his capable guidance could become a land of prosperity and refined taste. In 1714, he decided to turn the former rest-house into a royal residence comparable to, or, possibly, even outshining Versailles.

In 1699, Peter organised the Grand Embassy -- a Russian diplomatic mission to visit Prussia, Poland, France, Holland, Britain and Austria. The Embassy consisted of 250 men, with Peter himself among them, disguised as Peter Mikhailov, Sergeant of Preobrazhensky Regiment. The official purpose was to find allies in the war against Turkey, while unofficially it was to observe political inclinations of European courts and customs of Western lands, as well as to invite capable artists and craftsmen to work in Russia. The young tzar studied shipbuilding and navigation, and even worked as a carpenter in the docks of Saardam (Holland) and Deptford (Britain).

Peter eagerly learnt everything which could help put his country on a par with the greatest European monarchies, and was keen to apply his newly acquired knowledge to the planning and building of the most magnificent residence the country had seen.

The tzar not only himself overlooked works in fast growing Peterhof, but planned layouts of the parks, designed interiors and exteriors of palaces, and advised engineers on the construction of fountains. Within only nine years the layout of the Lower Park was completed, young saplings and newly cultivated flower beds surrounded Monplaisir and Marly palaces. The Sea Canal was dug from the newly completed pier to the Grand Palace, erected on top of a natural terrace, some 200 metres away. The Grand Cascade, the fountain gem of Peterhof treasury, adorned the entrance to the palace. Formal opening of the new residence took place in August 1723. All ambassadors and members of foreign diplomatic missions were invited and expected to describe the great event in their reports.

On the shore of the Gulf of Finland, overlooking the pier, Peter built the Dutch House, also called 'Monplaisir' (my pleasure) Palace. When the tzar's guests disembarked, they saw the Sea Terrace -- a pier, laid with multi-coloured Dutch bricks, and an idealised version of a typical middle-class Dutch house. A glass door leads from the terrace to the State Hall, another door, right opposite the first, which opened to the Dutch Garden planted with tulips, roses and fragrant bushes. Two glass-walled galleries created for a royal walk suitable for the most adverse weather stretch along the Sea Terrace to the west and to the east. The walls are not thick, you can hear the sea outside, but they have survived nearly 300 years of harsh weather and fascist occupation.

The Dutch House was Peter's favourite retreat. From Maritime Study in the corner the tzar could see Kronshtadt to the left and Saint Petersburg to the right. Peter kept in Monplaisir paintings he had brought from Europe, models of ships and collection of Chinese porcelain. The central and the most beautiful part of the Peterhof royal estate lies on three levels -- the Lower Park on the seashore, the Grand Palace on the terrace above, and the Upper Gardens, stretching from the palace to the road between Peterhof and Saint Petersburg.

The Sea Canal connects the seashore and the Grand Palace. It is twelve metres wide and runs between two rows of single-stream water-jets. The width of the canal allows visitors to enjoy the unforgettable view of the majestic Grand Cascade and the Grand Palace while still at sea. It is the Grand Cascade that millions of people from across the globe want to see first in Peterhof. In building the fountain complex to decorate the main entrance to the Grand Palace, Peter was inspired by the fountains at Marly le Roi, residence of the French King Louis XIV, but, as always, Peter wanted to eclipse the original and make the whole of Europe gaze in wonder. Peter achieved his goal. The synthesis of water, shooting up to the sky and coming back in millions of falling drops, and the gold of sculpture, shining brighter reflected by water, is breathtaking. The sound of 64 working fountains overrides even the loudest conversation. Humidity and stray drops falling on tourists with every gust of wind, give a feeling of ocean wave miraculously stopped by the architect's will.

The central and the tallest fountain of the composition, reaching the height of 20 metres, is Samson, Tearing Open the Jaws of the Lion. It symbolises the Russian victory over Sweden on June 27, 1709, St. Samson's day.

Besides the Grand Cascade, there are 55 different fountains in the Lower Park installed to proclaim the wealth of the Russian Empire or to entertain the royal family and court.

To the right and to the left of the Grand Cascade ten Terrace Fountains soar up above intricately patterned flower beds. The identical bowls of the Grand Fountains, 255 metres in diametre, 10 metres high, are placed symmetrically in the lawns on each side. Opposite the Grand Cascade, slightly to the left, water is falling from three golden bowls on top of Voronikhin's Colonnade, the building in the Ancient Greek style, and covers it with a water screen. In the corner, behind the Colonnade, a small black dog tries to catch four fast swimming ducks. This small fountain is called 'The Favorite', and, indeed, it is the favourite of many children and adults visiting the park. Such mechanic toys were very popular in 18th century, and Russian tzars liked to have good fun.

The Golden Hill Cascade lies to the west from the Grand Palace. Neptune, Triton and Bacchus supervise their visitors from the top of twenty-two marble stairs with gilded edges. This cascade is a part of the Marly ensemble, also including the Marly Palace, three gardens (one of them water garden) and several more fountains.

In the eastern part of the Lower Park, three scarlet-winged dragons watchfully protect their domain of The Dragon Cascade, also called The Chessboard Hill because of the black and white slanting slabs under the dragons that look like a chessboard.

In front of the dragons two Roman Fountains, resembling fountains of Saint Peter's Square in Rome, tower above the lawns, which are truly marvelous -- meticulously trimmed, inlaid with patterns of white and red stones, surrounded by seasonal flowers. Despite the strictest warnings displayed around, children and teenagers often climb into the spacious bowls of the fountains to splash and look for coins.

The Pyramid Cascade, few metres to the right from the Roman Fountains, is another monument to victory over Sweden. Seven tiers of water jets send water rolling down three projections, creating a tetrahedral pyramid. Further in the park, there are fountains designed for entertainment and playing tricks on visitors -- a magic alley with water jets hidden on both sides, an umbrella, which can suddenly start raining even on a sunny day, and benches, which can keep a visitor in water screen confinement.

It is remarkable that the whole fountain complex of the Lower Park doesn't require a single water pump. Spring water is collected in special reservoirs in the Upper Garden and the difference in elevation creates enough water pressure to operate the fountains. The Grand Palace atop the cliff with its facade overlooking the Lower Park is visible even from the shore. On top of the ornate roof, seventeen metres above the ground, two genii are holding a golden vase adorned with flower garlands. The middle portion of the palace houses staterooms and drawing rooms, it has been preserved virtually unchanged since the days of Peter the Great, only side wings were added during reconstruction in 1745-55.

The staterooms of the Grand Palace give an impression of endless space despite its rather small actual area. A double row of large windows interspersed with mirrors fill the palace with light even on the cloudiest day. All rooms on the second floor open one into another, so that when doors are not closed, the last room in a row is visible from the opposite side of the building.

The Throne Room and the Ballroom are the most majestic of the staterooms. The Throne Room has an area of 300 metres. Historical paintings on the subjects from Christening of Rus to the Battle of Chesma and portraits of Russian tzars from Peter I onwards adorn the walls. The remarkable feature of the Ballroom is that it is literally covered with gold.

The Battle of Chesma was a deciding Russian naval victory in the war against Turkey in 1768-74, and the whole room, adjoining the Throne Room is dedicated to it. The interiors of the Chesma Hall are navy blue with twelve paintings by a German artist, Jacob Philipp Hackert, hanging on the walls. Hackert was summoned by the Russian Empress Catherine II to record the battle for posterity, but unfortunately, the painter was not familiar with naval warfare and his first sketches elicited much amusement. To assist the artist, Catherine exploded a Russian frigate in the Italian port of Livorno, after which the paintings became more realistic.

If the Ballroom is the richest-looking, the West and East Cabinets are the most elegant. The Cabinets house a remarkable collection of Eastern, predominantly Chinese, decorative art. The walls are covered with silk made by Russian artisans, but imitating traditional Chinese patterns, yellow and black lacquer miniatures are placed on both sides of the doors. The Study of Peter the Great is in the corner near the staircase. It is remarkable for wood panels glorifying the deeds of the first westernized tzar of Russia. Military triumphs and renaissance of arts are carved in light oak to remind the coming generations about Peter's achievements.

The Upper Gardens lie between the Grand Palace and Peterhof downtown. They are typical regular gardens of the first half of 18th century and are also laid out according to sketches of Peter the Great. The gardens are strictly symmetrical and their design is connected with the architecture of the palace. Three large fountains and three pairs of flower beds -- square, slanting and round -- form the main axis. The perimetre of the Upper Gardens is hidden behind pergolas and arbours. One can easily imagine fine ladies and gentlemen of the royal court arranging secret meetings in this green maze far away from prying eyes and ears.

After the Red Revolution the estate of Peterhof was nationalised and turned into a public museum. The time came when working people and communist leaders marvelled at the creation of Peter's genius. The former royal estate became a week-end destination frequented by schoolchildren. During the WWII fascists occupied Peterhof and by the time of their retreat in 1944 the Grand Cascade, the Golden Hill Cascade and the Chessboard Hill Cascade were mutilated, the Grand Palace blown up and burnt to ashes. The previously idyllic landscape turned into war-torn battle field -- the trees were cut down, the parks dug over and mined. Many thought that the pearl of the Baltic Sea was destroyed forever and its glory would remain only in memoirs and old photographs. Fortunately, this did not happen. Although restoration took many years, and even today, after 64 years, it is not completed, but the unparalleled beauty of Russian Versailles has come back to life.

The Capital of Fountains welcomes millions of tourists every year. More and more people come to appreciate 'Peter's court,' and if you happen to be in Russia from the end of May to the end of September, make it a point to visit Peterhof. Once you have seen water and gold of the cascades coming to life in the rays of northern sun, you will never forget it.

Being part of a delegation of Asian journalists on a recent visit to Tokyo, I cannot forget the drill through which I had to pass during my stay there. I had read and heard many a time that Tokyo is nothing less than an 'urban hell' but after being there I can say it's much more than that.

Here I must clarify there was nothing wrong with the city and its people nor did I experience anything bad there. In fact, it was more a matter of adjustability on the part of a person like me, with the amazingly fast and automated lifestyle of this megapolis than anything else that made me arrive at this conclusion. Secondly, as always happens with delegates left at the mercy of the sponsor/host organisations, I missed a lot that could have helped ease my nerves and form a better opinion about Tokyo.

My encounter with technology started with my very arrival at Narita Airport which is at around one and a half hours' drive from Tokyo. No one was there to say 'welcome', load me with garlands and escort me to the hotel. This was the case with almost all the visitors coming to Tokyo from other parts of the world.

I was a bit angry when I was advised by my host organisation about bus and subway routes that I could take to reach my final destination in Tokyo. I thought it was impolite of them. Even the hotels where I was staying did not offer shuttle service to the guests.

Anyway, it took me little time to realise that life's like that in Tokyo where the most idle of all do not have time for such 'unproductive' activities. Just like as we prefer to spend money where returns are the highest, they spend time only where it can give them best dividends.

Soon after my arrival, I had to get used to reading moving text, directional signs and instructions. Just like a robot or a man under the influence of a spell I moved around and completed all the formalities without uttering a single word. The immigration and customs officials, attendants at the limousine bus counter and the currency dealers were well aware of what you wanted and would simply point at printed instructions in case anyone tried to ask them anything. Within minutes I was at the bus terminal waiting for the vehicle that would take me to the hotel where a hot bath and a cosy bed awaited me.

Though all these were unique experiences for me, the sight of a static escalator at the airport seemed very familiar to me. For a moment, I felt like being at home (in Pakistan) where escalators are out of order most of the time. But soon I realised that all the conveyor belts and escalators at the airport were equipped with sensors and they would move only when they sensed some moving object improving them. I immediately noted down this phenomenon in my notebook thinking I might quote it in some article of mine on the need of energy conservation in my country.

Even at the hotel there was hardly any person-to-person communication and machines were supposed to do most of the jobs. There was no room service, no porters to carry your luggage to your room and staff ready to listen to your long queries. If a guest had any issues he was supposed to either give it in writing or call a particular number at a particular time when an attendant with better English language speaking skills would be available.

The next four days were not much different from what I had experienced on the first day. Everybody seemed to be in a haste and cared least for those like me finding it difficult to catch up with the fast pace of the city. A member of our host organisation visited us only once to escort us to the place where we were supposed to attend our four-day training workshop. After that we were left to our own. The schedule of the workshop was so hectic that we would be drained of energy at the end of every day and had to postpone our sight-seeing plans repeatedly.

Anyhow, despite all these constraints I could see some glimpses of Tokyo mostly on the last day of the workshop. All I can remember about Tokyo is expensive food, jam-packed commuter trains, a sea of human beings and same block structures wherever you go. Even inside the metros people hardly speak a word and spend their time reading comics and books, playing video games or sending text messages.

But this does not mean Japanese are devoid of any affection for others, especially strangers. In fact, they are polite and helpful especially when you seek help from them. Otherwise they would simply whiz pass you or give way to you in case you come face to face with them on a busy pedestrian path.

The other things that make a visit to Tokyo boring is the dearth of locals who can speak proper English and the skyrocketing prices of goods that leave with the only option of window-shopping. Here I would mention Ginza area that houses outlets of world's most popular brands and buying a handful of goods from here can cost you a couple of years' earnings to you.

There is a strong possibility that other visitors to this part of the world disagree with my opinion about Tokyo. They might quote interesting places and activities that I was not able to visit and experience they would at least agree with me that the routine life there is too fast and mechanised to be enjoyed by an outsider.