Dmitry
Saint Petersburg
About
I still remember the exact weight of a warm kalach from the Sennoy Market on a February morning, eaten standing up in the cold with no gloves on — that kind of thing is what Saint-Petersburg actually runs on. I know which courtyard in Kolomna hosts an unofficial antique swap on Sunday afternoons, and which canteen near the Kirovsky zavod serves the real meal workers have eaten here for sixty years. Local rhythm, not tourist logic, is where I live.
