Pskov for Christmas

For more than 1000 years, Pskov and the surrounding area has served as a border zone between Russia and the West. Constantly the subject of invasion, the area has amazed an arrary of fortifications and religious sights. Garry and I spent much of Christmas Day visting two of the region's most famous sights; The Holy Dormition Pskovo-Pechersky monastery and the nearby Izborsk Fortress.

Pskov-Perchersky monastery is located 18km from the Estonian border. Built in the 15th Century, the entire site is surrounded by high fortress walls. Inside reside a series of religious buildings, including a church topped by five bright blue, glit-clad onion domes. During our visit the site was bathed in regular sunshine, making the distinctive domes magically glint and sparkle. After days of bleak weather, Christmas Day had dawned with blue skies, one of only two such days during our entire Russia tour.

Izborsk was equally impressive. It's imposing walls tower more than six metres above the surrounding town, nestled on the edge of steep hillside. Inside sits the white-washed 14th Century Nikolcky cathedral. We had the entire site to ourselves for almost an hour.

Our final hour of daylight in Pskov was spent preparing for an overnight sleeper train journey to Moscow. I ducked away from the group to visit Pskov's World War II memorial park. The park's memorial consists of a clutter of anti-aircraft gun barrels pointing skyward. In front sits an eternal flame. At the close of WWII only 15% of Pskov's buildings were standing and the population had fallen to less than 150 people. By comparison, the city today is home to more than 200,000 people.

The Germans first captured Pskov on July 9, 1941. It went on to become the key point of "Panther" defence line (the northern part of German's "East Rampart") before finally being liberated by the 128 infantry division of 42 Soviet Army on July 22, 1944. As watched the sun set on Christmas Day I struggled to comprehend the meaning of war. It seemed hard to imagine that the very town in which I stood had once been a battlefield, not once but dozens of times over the last 1000 years.

Our next destination in Russia was Moscow. Read on.