Literary Cafe

Most of the houses in St. Petersburg are like palaces, with tall columns and thick walls, as if living in a fortress and feeling safe. In the morning, I woke up from the big bed of the unusually spacious apartment hotel and checked the weather forecast for the next few days-rain, rain. I got into bed again and secretly rejoiced that if it rained for days, I would go to Neva Street every day and stay in the Literary Cafe. People who have been to St. Petersburg say that literary cafes are hard to find. Maybe they don't carry lanterns, do they? This "lantern" emits the light of literature, but the illuminance is not high, but it is enough to illuminate your ideal path.

Get out of the ground from the subway Neva Street Station and walk to the Kazan Bridge of the Griboyedov Canal. St. Petersburg has many bridges, so it enjoys the reputation of "Venice in the North". Walking along the edge of the canal, there was a light rain. If there is no wind, you will not feel cold. Cross the Italian bridge in front of the Bloody Church, turn back to Neva Street along the other side of the canal, and then bump into the Literary Cafe. We were eating the corncob cooked by our Russian mother. It was obviously disrespectful to come to court so rashly, so we decided to come back for coffee in the afternoon.

The legendary Pushkin Cafe, actually called the Literary Cafe, was formerly a dessert shop with a history of more than 200 years. It is said that Pushkin's residence is not far from here, and he often comes to choose a seat facing the street, looking at the flowing Neva Street and letting the sun of poetry illuminate his heart. Today, Pushkin is still sitting here with a quill pen in hand. However, the noble head of the poet can no longer turn to the still lovely Neva Street.

On that day of that year, Pushkin finished his last cup of coffee in this dessert shop and went straight to the Little Black River for a duel. The granite tablet on the glade beside the Xiaohei River is inscribed on the back: "in Heihe River, on January 27, 1837 (February 8 of the Gregorian calendar), the great Russian poet Pushkin was injured to death in a duel." The passion and blood of the poet planted roses here that will never wither.

At 02:30 in the afternoon, my friend and I sat into this literary temple cafe. Compared with the English afternoon tea called "High Tea" at dusk, our afternoon tea can only be regarded as "Low Tea". Netizens' legendary Russian geeks routinely hang up their coats for their guests in the foyer. As I passed Pushkin's sitting portrait, I bowed my head slightly and made a deep gaze.

Then a handsome and straight young waiter came to introduce the seat. We also chose a seat facing the street, and the afternoon sun poured generously on the snow-white tablecloth. We ordered coffee, Russian tea, dessert and Vegetables Salad, turned on our mobile phone and shared this wonderful afternoon with our friends far away. A friend saw this and was very humorous: "Pushkin lost the duel because he drank coffee and the other drank Volga."

When I motioned to pay the bill, the waiter sent me a "book" with Pushkin's profile picture. In fact, it is a book case, which contains the details of the bill, which will be checked by the guests, put the charges payable and put them on the table. After a while, the waiter came to pick up the book and paid the bill, then handed back the book in the guest's hand with the bill and change. At this time, the guest opens the book to withdraw the bill, leaves some change as appropriate as a tip, closes the book and puts it on the table.

This afternoon of coffee with Pushkin was filled with a sense of ritual from the beginning to the end. This sense of ritual is not only respect for Pushkin, but also respect for literature. The reason why the classic has become a classic, must be rich, thick, gorgeous, can withstand the precipitation of the years, let people endless aftertaste, useful for life.