The next day began shockingly early. Breakfast was available in the dining room from 7:00 till 9:00 o'clock. This was not too bad, but the fact that our buses, which would take us to some of the important sights around Moscow and were scheduled to depart punctually at 8:30 made it clear that we would have to be up at 7:00 at the very latest. This, it seemed, was not going to be a day of rest after our tiring day of travel. We would, it had been planned, visit the Kremlin and its Armoury containing many state treasures in the morning; after that we were headed for lunch at the Tretyakov Gallery and have a tour through the gallery itself; finally, to conclude our day's tour, we would visit the largest church in Russia, the Cathedral of Christ the Redeemer. Clearly, it was going to be a fascinating tour, but it also promised to make for a tiring day.

The visit to the Kremlin began much as I might have imagined it had I given it some thought. We were, after all, visiting the sight of the Russian Government. When we arrived at the Kremlin wall, there was already quite a line-up of visitors. Looking around, I discovered the cause. Perhaps some 50 meters uphill of where we were assembled, there were several Russian soldiers clad in what I assumed was their dress uniform. They steered the assembled crowd, one by one, through a what looked like a typical, airport-surveilance scanner. Only after the visitors had passed through the scanner without setting off any alarms, were they allowed to continue and to enter the Kremlin grounds proper. Slowly the crowd advanced and eventually we too were able to pass through the the narrow gate and found ourselves inside the mighty Kremlin wall.

The word "kremlin" in Russian means fortification or citadel, and that, indeed, was the impression this place made. It was a huge fortress, designed to keep out unfriendly visitors. And this kremlin being "The Kremlin", the site of Russian Governments during Tsarist, Communist, and Post-Communist times, the security measures to which we were exposed, were not all that surprising.

The Kremlin, the construction of which had been begun in the early 14th century, had been an important place even then. Today, after the long history of of invasions and wars - Napoleon's, Hitler's, having been only the more recent ones, and then, being involved in the psychological conflict known as the "Cold War," the present security measures were certainly understandable.

It is at this point that I need to admit with some onsiderable embarrassment, that I was quite unprepared for the beauty which I here encountered. Having lived through the long years of the 'Cold War', I had been exposed to a lot of, no doubt politically slanted news. As a result, it seems, my mind had invented an image of the "Evil Kremlin," a collection of ugly, squat, and depressingly dark grey, government buildings - what was my surprise tthough when I saw The Kremlin as it really is, a place of great beauty and cultural significance. Behind its rough defensive outer wall, there are palaces, cathedrals, an armoury converted from its military use to an art museum and other fascinating and beautiful things.

Following our visit to The Kremlin, we went to the Tretyakov Gallery, a place not only designed to feed the mind, but also tho feed more physical human needs. It was time for lunch, and we were served a pleasant meal accompanied by a glass or two of wine. Having taken care of our bodily needs, we then headed for the exhibition space itself. Here we found a large collection of the paintings by Russia's and the Soviet Union's most significant painters.

Our guide was clever, well trained and full of interesting information. Nevertheless, Georgia and I soon discovered that following along with our group from painting turned out to be a frustrating journey. For all the useful information to be gained by listening to our guide, there was no chance to stand back and to examine each picture without having half a dozen bodies blocking our view. Before very long, Georgia and I started to hang back and waited for the group to move on. Suddenly, for a little while, until the next group moved in, we had the painting to enjoy all by ourselves.

But, by giving up one kind of guidance, I now had the advantage of another. Georgia's university education had been in art, and as a result, she was able to point out to me technical and artistic aspects which I would have missed had I continued with the group or, if I had been all by myself.

Then, we found some paintings of Ilya Repin. Fortuitously, when we had discovered that the name of the vessel that was to carry us from Moscow to St. Petersburg was also Ilya Repin, we had consulted the Internet for information. He was now, as it were, a friend of a friend, someone about whom we had been told intriguing information and someone who was clearly highly respected. His paintings quickly captured our interest.

Happily we had slowed our speed of advancing through the gallery, and thus thoroughly enjoying our time with the paintings. We no longer heard our guides comments, but, we were able to study the paintings undisturbed. Our only periodic distraction was to keep track of where our group had proceded to next.

Then our "guided" tour finished, we were still in sight of our group and were thus able to return on time to the bus. There was one more destination we were scheduled to visit, Russia's largest church, the "Cathedral of Christ the Redeemer".

I had enjoyed our time at the Tretyakov Gallery so much, that I had been quite unaware of Georgia's growing exhaustion. Not only had she just recently recuperated from a lengthy illness, but our flight from Toronto had been long and tiring, and, on top of that, today too had required a fair amount of stamina.

Thus it was that when we arrived at our next destination, Georgia, regretfully, decided to stay behind on the bus. On my own, I set off with the group. The Cathedral we were about to visit, our guide told us, had had quite a history:

Its construction had begun in 1839 and had taken over 40 years. It had been commenced in order to celebrate and commemorate Russia's victory over Napoleon's army. By 1933, however, Stalin was in control and wishing to discourage religious observances, he ordered the Cathedral to be torn down. In its place, he had decided, should be built a massive skyscraper - topped by 100 foot statue of Lenin. And so, Stalin, being Stalin, the destruction of the cathedral was carried out as ordered.

The skyscraper, though, was never built. The ground at the site being too soft to support the proposed structure foiled the plan. For some years, a swimming pool was located at the site where the cathedral had stood - until, in the 1990s it was decided to rebuild the original cathedral. What the first time around had taken over 40 years to erect, was this time accomplished in four!

Having been told about its history, I was about to enter the cathedral when someone touched my arm. It was Georgia. "I just could not stay behind," she told me with a weary smile and so, together, we entered this huge church. Strangely, the cathedral from the outside, though looking quite large, is not overwhelmingly so. But, once we had entered, its hugeness struck us with its full force. It was beautiful, it was impressive in its totality, but, above all, it was breathtaking in its size. I wandered around this beautiful inner immensity, and feel like an ant. Huge religious frescos painted on its huge wall spaces only emphasized my own, tiny unimportance. The fact that anyone would consider and order the destruction of such a building was quite incomprehensible to me.

Trip story to be continued.