St. Petersburg has just implemented a new resort fee for visitors, with a decree signed by Governor Beglov. Starting April 1, travelers will be charged 100 rubles per day for enjoying the city’s rivers and canals.
Russia has some precedent for this kind of charge. In the Kuban region, visitors already pay a “on the water” resort fee, and similar schemes exist in Altai’s Belokurikha sanatoriums. The concept is not unique to Russia. In Jurmala, for instance, there is not only a resort fee but also an entrance fee. Highway exits into the city often feature parking meters collecting money, a practice that, in 2019, looked like about four euros per entry. The idea is that the more times someone leaves and re-enters the city, the more they pay. A free mode is typically reserved for local residents and Latvian subscribers. Official statements claim that the collected funds are used to improve the city and its aesthetics, which is visible in the upkeep of flower pots along the roads.
Petersburg itself has flower pots as well, even along the Moscow highway. In Zelenogorsk, a seaside suburb, the city’s greenery is lively and well tended. A local resident notes that municipal flowers are planted from city funds and maintained curbside, which gives the city a pleasant look, even for those who pay taxes here yet live elsewhere in the country.
On the other hand, there is a sentiment that St. Petersburg’s needs exceed what the city currently allocates for beautification projects like pots and flower beds. The sense is that the city’s long-term improvements still lag behind expectations. Subway problems persist, facades continue to be restored, terraces appear beside cafes, and the bus fleet is periodically updated along with tram and subway trains. Yet improvements tend to arrive in measured doses, almost incremental, rather than transformative. Internet access in the subway has begun to reach all branches gradually, a technological upgrade that is creeping forward rather than accelerating dramatically.
There is no equivalent to Moscow’s sweeping breakthroughs, and visible development in the city has not produced the dramatic impact some hoped for. The World Cup period brought some progress with newly paved streets and long-delayed underground openings, but the overall effect on St. Petersburg remained modest. New stations did not appear, and some works faced delays or repairs due to issues like flooding or deteriorating coatings. The question remains whether any major expansions will materialize soon.
Transit developments have faced their own challenges. A notable shift over recent years has been the replacement of many minibuses with PAZ buses. These changes have affected passenger comfort and accessibility, especially for families with strollers. Overall, ground transportation has not seen a sweeping transformation. A new highway to Moscow is planned, but so is a sense that the Sapsan service, though fast, is not always fully utilized due to pricing. Some traditional structures, like a few houses near the Farforovsky outpost, are being removed to make space for new highways, yet other facilities, such as a large nearby vegetable warehouse, seem slow to receive the same level of attention.
Structural renovations have also been uneven. A significant renewal program has paused many older blocks, leaving some neighborhoods in a state between repair and neglect. The case of nine-story buildings shows a mix of updated interiors and untouched Khrushchev-era exteriors. Since 2011, many promises of demolition have not materialized, leaving some areas in a stagnant limbo. A phrase like Renovation started is heard less as a practical policy and more as a distant memory for many residents.
Outlying districts are not the only ones feeling the sting. The city center shows signs of aging as well, and even after several years, some districts lag behind Moscow in terms of modern polish and energy. The difference between the two capitals has become more a matter of perception than a strict measure of capability. Moscow’s recent restoration frenzy has abated somewhat, and what remains resembles a well-polished European city more than a bold, ambitious metropolis; St. Petersburg, by comparison, looks more anchored in its past than eager to leap forward.
Travelers arriving in Saint Petersburg after the train ride from Moscow often sense a contrast: Moscow’s rapid, visible upgrades have faded into a quieter, more understated atmosphere, while St. Petersburg’s growth feels more cautious, slower, and more localized. Five years ago, during Moscow’s peak renovation phase, some visitors left with a sense of envy or disappointment when comparing the two cities. The Hermitage and Tretyakov Gallery experiences still reflect Moscow’s dynamic edge, with changes in pedestrian zones, market arrangements, and public spaces visible in a way that feels absent in St. Petersburg.
For visitors who admire history and culture, the city still offers the Admiralteyskaya metro, a landmark whose development was tied to broader infrastructural debates. The station’s journey has been tied to broader concerns including financial oversight and the strategic value of underground expansion. While some observers highlight costs and governance questions, others note that the public spaces around the Hermitage have seen improvements, like repurposed kiosks and refurbished entrances that improve the visitor experience, even if they lack the scale of Moscow’s newer stations.
Nevsky Prospect remains a bustling artery, and recent renovations on the first floors of many buildings have refreshed the street scene without creating a sea change in the city’s overall character. The question persists: will the new resort fee, if effectively managed, fund meaningful gains for the city, or will it simply add another layer of burdens on visitors, residents, and hoteliers alike? A common sense stance is that if the funds are directed toward tangible improvements, the residents and tourists might view the fee more favorably, particularly if there is transparent oversight from federal authorities.
Nonetheless, questions linger about the feasibility of enforcing such charges across hotels and rental properties, many of which operate in informal arrangements or as communal apartments. The collection mechanism and the enforcement path remain uncertain, and the practicalities of extracting fees from a broad tourism market are not trivial. The central idea is that the fees, if implemented with clarity and accountability, could support city development projects that benefit both visitors and locals. If the revenue is used to enhance infrastructure, public spaces, and essential services under proper supervision, the policy could earn broader acceptance. Until then, opinions vary widely, and the balance between revenue and visitor experience remains a live topic for debate.