St. Petersburg, submerged in the succulence of blossoming greenery, is at its early-summer peak. Far from the suffocating heat of the tropics, washed clean every day by rain and lit up with a White Nights glow, the city and its countless palaces, parks and bridges are the perfect destination for starry-eyed tourists.


As soon as real summer comes, however, the permanent residents of this magnificent city grow somewhat disenchanted with the its delights. Irritated by either a rare heat wave or, much more commonly, cold and drizzling rain, they begin to feel the itch to escape to wherever there is fresh air, sunshine and sea.


Despite being located on both a major river and the Baltic Coast, St. Petersburg has surprisingly few beaches. The most popular one is right in the heart of the city, outside the Peter and Paul fortress. The massive stone walls of the fortress hug the beach on three sides, providing shelter from cold wind. Dedicated sun worshippers can be seen there as early as February -- there might still be snow on the ground, but press yourself up against the fortress wall and expose yourself to the sun and you will get quite a tan.


On a good summer afternoon, the small beach is crowded, although only the bravest dare step into the murky water of the Neva. But the view! Not many beaches in the world can boast of having anything like a panorama of the Winter Palace on their horizons. This summer, unfortunately, in somewhat frantic anticipation of the Goodwill Games, the beach has been closed.


The area to the north of the city, taken away from Finland during the 1939-40 Finnish War, has traditionally been the closest and most accessible escape outside Petersburg. A string of small towns on the rocky coast of the Gulf of Finland, though suffering the consequences of Soviet-style maintenance, still retain some of their original charm. Their original names, unpronounceable and forgotten by everyone except the Finns, have been replaced by Russian ones.


But Repino and Komarovo, Zelenogorsk and Solnechnoye, rich with the scent of pine-tree groves and refreshed by a cool sea breeze, have developed a history and legends all their own. The dachas of the elite are there, as is the writers' cemetery and Anna Akhmatova's grave, a popular hangout for hippies in the 1970s. The towns have allure and prestige, and are desirable vacationing spots.


But the true beauty and magic of the area is as much in its future as in its past. The construction of a dam has devastated the fragile ecology of the Gulf of Finland. Prices, nevertheless, have skyrocketed -- small cottages with no bath are rented out for 2 million rubles a summer. Those who can afford it tend to go to Greece or Italy instead. Those who cannot stay locked in the architectural beauty of St. Petersburg.