This stretch is the north shore of the Gulf of Finland, the coast that runs west from the Neva delta toward Sestroretsk and the Karelian Isthmus. The label points to the Kronstadtsky district name rather than a single monument, so think of it as a tract of seaside land, with the port town of Lisiy Nos about five kilometres away and the larger suburb of Lakhtinsky eight kilometres off. Lisiy Nos means Fox's Nose, a cape that pokes out into the gulf, and from here on a clear day you can look south across the water to the low silhouette of Kotlin Island.
The country is flat, sandy and pine-covered, with drifts of reeds along the shore and dunes in places. It is a landscape of dachas, where Petersburgers have gone to escape the heat for over a century, and the roads between them are narrow, sometimes sandy at the edges, and lined with wooden fences and gardens. In summer the smell is resin, damp grass and barbecue smoke. Speeds are low and the corners are tight little turns around gardens and drainage ditches, not real riding country, but pleasant to wander through at an unhurried pace.
The history here is bound up with the defence of the city. Finland's border lay terribly close to St Petersburg until the Second World War, and these shores saw fortifications, patrols and, later, long periods of restricted access. Some of the old military structures still stand among the pines. Today the area is mostly leisure: walkers on the shoreline, cyclists on the paths, and anglers at the water's edge in early morning.
For practical matters, Lakhtinsky and its neighbours have fuel and shops, and the main road into the city is only a few kilometres south. The best time to come is a bright morning in late May or June, when the pines are warm and the gulf is calm, or on a September weekday when the crowds have thinned. Do not expect much in the way of views from the road itself; the water is hidden behind trees most of the time.