Arctic Blaze

It was around this time nine years ago that I was first experiencing the true meaning of the word "cold", through the final throes of winter in St Petersburg. With daytime temperatures in the region of -25C, and nighttimes that no human being could possibly withstand without the aid of vodka, I have fond memories of being hunched in a coat over a glass of Stolichnaya, whilst serenaded by the worst Rolling Stones cover band in the northern hemisphere, and watched sharkishly by Mafiya men and their hollow-faced prostitute companions.

As bad as the city's indoors could be, outdoors it was staggeringly beautiful, and I bought this painting off a street artist on Nevsky Prospekt as a permanent reminder of that. It's sunset over the Petropavlovsk Fortress, viewed from the Vasilevsky Island strelka, and it always gets a glance from me at this point in the year.