First, some background. Felix Yusupov was born into one of Russia’s wealthiest families and was married to Princess Irina Alexandrovna, neice of Tsar Nicholas II. Rasputin was a real creep. He claimed to be a holy man out of Siberia, possessing magical curative powers which he used to alleviate the effects of the Tsar’s son’s hemophilia. Rasputin held a great deal of sway over the Tsaritsa, for the obvious reason of his ability to cure, if momentarily, her son. This was all rather unfortunate because Rasputin was a nasty, nasty man. We don’t need to get into the graphic details. Needless to say, his influence on the Tsaritsa didn’t help the floundering reputation of the royal family. Thus, Felix Yusupov thought to stem the growing resentment of the Russian people by removing the unsightly blemish on their image.
The first thing our tour guide told us before taking us into Felix’s private apartments was not to be afraid. It didn’t take long to find out what she meant by this. We were taken into a sort of parlor where four wax figures waited. This was the group of Felix’s friends who had assembled to murder Rasputin. They did there best to make it look like it was just a simple party, but Rasputin didn’t seem to be fooled. Then we went down a tiny, cramped, and generally creepy staircase that led to a basement-level salon where we found Felix in the company of none other than Rasputin 
himself. The cookies and Madeira on the table-- laced with cyanide. Unfortunately, these didn’t seem to faze the old creep, so Felix shot him in the head. As Felix went to collect the body, the quite un-dead Rasputin moved to strangle him. Felix shot him a few more times for good measure. Then he and his friends scooped him up and plopped him in the frozen river just to be safe. Resilient old bugger. So, for everyone who’s seen Anastasia, now you know how Rasputin really met his end. The curse, though, is real. Apparently, a few nights before he was murdered, Rasputin wrote a prophetic letter claiming that he didn’t anticipate surviving the New Year (he was murdered on December 15th) and that if he were killed by noble hands, the Romanov dynasty would fall..JPG)
The rest of the tour was interesting, but a lot less sensational than that last little bit. The Yusupov’s were extraordinarily wealthy. While not many of their original possessions are still around, what is left is impressive, and the size of the building itself is striking. Here is the chandelier that hangs in the main entrance to the palace..JPG)
The tapestries in this salon were supposedly a gift of Napoleon at one point. What Napoleon was doing giving gifts to Russian royalty when he was at war with them, I’m not quite sure.
A bedroom. Oddly enough, the bedroom was located between the reception halls and the sitting rooms, so guests actually had to pass through the bedroom. I’m still not sure I understand the appeal of this layout. I asked the tour guide why there were pillows on the floor. She said they wanted to give it a “lived-in” feel. One last thing: the fireplace on the right is made out of solid onyx.
This circular sofa is located in a false rotunda. It’s an odd sort of room-- it’s square, but it’s made to look circular, quite effectively I might add. Henry and I decided that this piece of furniture was a cross between a couch and a pie: a pouch, if you will.
The blue living room. Nice color choice.
The cleverly-named red living room. I like blue better.
The Yusupov’s private theatre, still in use.
The library. If you look carefully in the center, you might see one of the secret passage-ways. Really, this house is full of all sorts of odd nooks and crannies.
The billiard room. Yes, the pool table really is gigantic; it’s not a trick of the camera. The concave rear of the room performs some amazing tricks of acoustics. Depending on where you whisper within the little dome, you can quite literally shoot a secret across the room.
An odd little room, decked out in Arab style. Not quite sure what to tell you. When you have that much money, why not indulge in random quirky interests?
So, what do you think? Candidate for best haunted house in Russia? I thought so. Afterwards, I got a call from Irina asking me to meet her on some street corner. Her directions weren’t so great. “Go out of the metro, turn right, cross the diwefvbmkjhg bridge, and I’ll meet you on the corner.” I apparently exited at the wrong place, because turning right did not bring me to the right bridge, not that I knew what the right bridge was. She kept calling me and asking me what was taking me so long and listing off various fifteen-syllable street names. When I told her I ended up by the Hermitage, she told me I’d gone the wrong way (really?) and started guiding me back. I asked her for landmarks, which seemed to help a bit. As I was on my way, she called me again to see what was still taking me so long. I told her I was walking as fast as I could (but I have to cross the bulk of the center of the city so chill out!) When I finally found her, she scolded me for being too slow and for not following directions. Sorry, I don’t know all the names of all the bridges in this city. I did feel badly for making her wait, because she was just doing me a favor, showing me a good place to buy presents for people. I ended up buying presents for my parents here.
On our way to the metro station, we passed this cathedral, the Vladimir Cathedral. I wanted to stop to take a picture. I was going to be quick about it, but Irina insisted that I go back up the sidewalk a ways to get a better shot, so she held my stuff and waited for me to do that. When I got back, I thanked her for waiting and apologized for all the trouble I’d given her that afternoon. “Well, if you weren’t giving me problems someone else would be.” My, you’re charming. After that it was back to the apartment. But I was walking too fast.
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