Russia! My astonished child’s eyes see huge palaces, beautiful parks, fountains, gardens, amazing gatherings of relatives, military parades, religious services in churches glittering with gold, jewels so breathtaking you can hardly believe they are real [… ] My eyes also see long corridors, vestibules, and halls, of a size beyond compare, opening one into another, and our feet trotting timidly over wide stretches of floors, so unbounded and polished, that we seemed to walk on ice. And everywhere, a very characteristic smell: a mixture of turpentine, Russian leather and cigarette smoke, with a fragrance, unique in its own way, that distinguished the imperial palaces. Imperial is the right word, fantastic, like in fairy tales […] every superlative is at its place in that Russia of the Tsars, that Russia full of splendour, which today is no more…
