St Petersburg is in its way a unique city, having ap­peared almost instantly to a single, deliberate plan, becoming the highest embodiment of human will, the triumph of creative inspiration and intensive labour. By the end of its first century of existence, St Peters­burg was one of the finest cities in Europe. St Petersburg is a dream come true, an object lesson in history closely linked with the present.

For the Russians, St Petersburg is a European city. When he conceived its construction, Peter the Great thought of it becoming first and foremost the mari­time gateway of Russia, "a window to Europe". The Tsar invited a host of foreign architects to work on the new capital, and it is above all to them and those who followed in their footsteps — Trezzini, Rastrelli, Quarenghi, Cameron, Montferrand and the rest — that the city owes its appearance. Architecturally the city took up the finest achievements of European urban construction. Yet, as has often been remarked, the magnificent edifices erected here by noted Italian, French or British architects acquired some special expansive quality uniquely typical of Russia.

Apart from architecture, various sciences and trades, arts and fashionable European goods came into Rus­sia through St Petersburg. While the city was the capital, it was home to very large numbers of foreigners and European attitudes were indeed dominant. On the other hand, visitors from abroad in Catherine's time, for example, observed that, along with features reminis­cent of elite society in Paris or London, one could also see in St Petersburg merchants in Asiatic dress and long-bearded peasants in sheepskin coats and fur-hats. And even the borrowings from abroad took on a new, purely Russian aspect here.

No, St Petersburg was always what it remains to­day: a city that combines within it Russia and Europe. For foreigners coming here now as tourists it is cer­tainly not the West, especially after several decades of enforced isolation from foreign influences. For them it is, however, the key to understanding the mysteri­ous Russian mind and the "Eastern Empire" that covers one seventh of the Earth's land surface. St Petersburg with its aristocratically noble appearance, its "Euro­pean-like" restrained character is more approachable and understandable that the blatantly multifarious Moscow with its tempestuous rhythms and headlong pursuit of modernity, or the rest of Russia, which might in many ways be said to be still slumbering.

Peter the Great, having resolved to bring his coun­try closer to Europe, sought an exit to the sea. From that point of view, the site he chose, where the Neva flows into the Gulf of Finland, was ideal. For the con­struction of a city (still more a capital), however, the natural conditions were, to say the least, not favoura­ble: a harsh climate and terrain that was marshy and therefore flat and uninspiring. The apparent disadvantages of the setting were, however, brilliantly exploited by ar­chitects. The abundance of water provided the finest possible adornment for St Petersburg — without it a city built of brick and stone would be too austere, even somewhat gloomy. The rather featureless landscape made it possible to construct impeccably straight streets, while the relatively tall buildings stood out to advantage on the level expanse. This fact was noted back in the eight­eenth century by the poet and scientist Mikhail Lomonosov: "Nature has provided an even, low-lying land surface, as if deliberately for the placement of man-made moun­tains as a demonstration of the immense might of Russia, because although there are no natural eminences here, huge buildings soar up in their stead."