From Russia With Love - 08/08/2007For most of us the name 'Russia' evokes images of grainy cold war footage, the Cuban missile crisis, the 'Space race' and the much deadlier 'arms race'. We could be forgiven for describing Russia as 'cold' or 'austere' and for imagining the country and the people to be the way they have been portrayed in countless Hollywood films, including Rocky IV. The truth, as always, is a completely different story.
We nearly did not make it into Russia because the car we had paid to take us across the border ran out of petrol in no-mans land and was then turned back at the border for attempted to smuggle five grey t-shirts, a tracksuit, two pairs of trainers and a Chinese blanket into Russia. Luckily they only sent the driver and his vastly overdressed son back, for us they simply informed the next car that they had two extra passengers. This car then drove out of its way to take us to the stop for a minibus to Ulan-Ude. This was our first experience of Russian hospitality. The second experience was in the bus where a couple of women chatted to us all the way to Ulan-Ude. We were surprised at how aware they were of international current affairs, as it is not a subject that is often displayed in communist countries. OK, most of the stories affected Russia in some way such as the Alexander Litvenyenko case, the planned installation of a US radar in the Czech Republic, the Soviet statue knocked down in Tallinn and the subsequent web attacks, and of course the latest exploits of Roman Ambramovich.
Siberian architecture, Ulan Ude
In Ulan-Ude we were shocked by how expensive Russia is, especially the hotels, and also of how much delicious food is in the shops, items we had not seen for a couple of months such as cheese, good bread and yoghurts, as well as a choice of novelty crisp flavours that would be impressive even in England. It was also a shock to be back in a European city, even if we were not quite back in Europe. As for sights, in the main square in Ulan-Ude, the worlds biggest statue of Lenins head is proudly on display.
Lenin head, Ulan Ude
Despite Russia straddling about 7 time zones every single clock in every single train station in Russia is set to Moscow time, this is in order to decipher the timetables which are all in Moscow time also, unless they are local trains which are in local time, only making it more confusing. Once we thought we had it worked out we continued west, taking the train to Sludyanka on the southern shore of Lake Baikal. The last couple of hours of the journey were stunning, beautiful views of of the lake and of the hordes of Russian campers by the lake side, looking straight out of some old communistic documentary with their giant tents, BBQ's and stacks of beer. On the platform at Sludyanka were many vendors selling local delicacies such as Omul (a smoked fish endemic to Baikal that tastes not unlike salmon) and blueberries. We bought heaps of both as well as a pot of fresh cream, for the blueberries, and headed off to join the campers. It felt divine to feast on such local produce and to camp by the worlds deepest lake. Baikal is so deep that it actually holds more water than the five Great Lakes combined. It also seems to have some spiritual significance, judging by the streams of locals who came to bath in its waters in the evening.
Sludyanka
The next day we took the Circumbaikal railway to Port Baikal. It is an engineering marvel, despite taking 7 hours to cover the 90-odd kilometres. This pace just allows for a more leisurely appreciation of the lake views. Inevitably the train arrived just in time to miss the last ferry accross to Listvyanka so we camped overnight on a small beach close to Port Baikal and refreshed ourselves with a cooling dip, after which I could surmise that Baikal was slightly warmer than Khovsgol, probably around 6-8 degrees celcius. We took the ferry the next afternoon, along with several locals who had been enjoying a few drinks already, including one mother and daughter who we had earlier spotted taking topless photos of each other. However one of the most pleasant surprises in Russia is that beer is far more popular than vodka, even if the beers have an average of 8% alcohol. This means that there are not so many alcoholics, just a lot of drunks. There is a distinction. If I had to catgorise each country I would say that China is full of serious drinkers, Mongolia full of alcoholics and Russia full of drunks.
Port Baikal
We returned to urban life in Irkutsk where we were reminded that, although the general population is warm, friendly and welcoming, those working in official positions or, even worse, at the train or bus station are the stereotypical, scary Russian bitches. We had to register our visas, the friendly receptionist in the cheap hotel we found helped us fill in the forms in Cyrillic, but then at the post office they wanted copies of various pages in our passports, and of course they did not have a copier (or so they said!) and the copy shop was closed. So we had to return the next day. At the train station we were told it is not possible to book platskart (lowest class) tickets for a train more than three days in advance, but if you book less than three days before they are already sold out. We wanted to visit Olkhon island on lake Baikal but of course we couldn't because if we went we would not be able to buy the train tickets and if we bought the tickets we would not have time to get there. Catch-22. In any case it was all academic as some travel agent had bought all the bus tickets to Olkhon for a tour group so we decided to head back to Listvyaka and spend a couple of relaxing days camping there before catching the train. Listvyanka is the Margate of Great Yarmouth of Baikal with a stretch of beach packed with bikini-clad babes, BBQ's, beach balls and ice cream. By the way, Russian ice cream is fantastic, probably on a par with Italian gelato if a little more down-to-earth, I wonder why it is not more well-known. It certainly became one of my daily treats along with a glass of kvas, that refreshing cider-esque drink made from fermented rye bread sold from big tanks all over Russia.
Listvyanka
It was not difficult to find a secluded spot with some other long-term campers, some with the full set up of tent, BBQ and stacks to eat and drink. It was relaxing during the day, around 35 degrees but very dry, no humidity, and the water was so cold it was perfect for periodic, albeit brief, dips. The nights were not quite so serene however, on the first night a couple camping close to us got really drunk and in the morning the woman woke up with a massive gash in her head, which would have required several stitches. Apparently someone threw a rock off the cliff, and as a bag of bottles was blown (or thrown) off the cliff close to our tent, and she had been shouting with a third guy late in the evening we did not doubt this. The second night a group of Czechs, uncharacteristically unfriendly, met three Russian guys and drank several litres of vodka. The next morning, after the Czechs had already left, one of the Russian guys acquired a pedalo and a raft. They left the pedalo on the shore and the three three of them rowed off over the horizon, never to be seen again, at least not by us.
Trans Siberian Railway
And then it was time for the long train ride, along the Trans-Siberian railway from Irkutsk to Moscow in 87 hours. We left at 18:02 (13:02 Moscow time) on the 28th July. Contrary to popular belief Siberia is not just cold, desolate tundra, it was bloody hot and sweaty in our carriage, our side-berths making it even worse, it became far more comfortable when it rained. There is actually quite a lot of forest and woodland on the route, seperating the villages of beautiful Siberian wooden architecture. Other than this it resembles northern Europe, only much bigger. You could easily imagine you were on a train from Holt to Alysham, or through Klanovice, Uvaly and Cesky Brod. We had a nice set of fellow passengers and luckily no-one on Russian trains gets very drunk and if they did the provodnitsas (carriage attendants) would deal with them. At every stop (which usually last around 20 mins) people rush out to stretch their legs and peruse the offerings on the platform, from raspberries to pasties, boiled eggs to cold beer. Everyone had different ways of adjusting to Moscow time, many just changed their watches straight to Moscow time, which meant they slept at unusual times and seemed to suffer from some jet-lag. We adjusted our watches gradually as we passed through each time zone, which seemed to make more sense and negated the 'jet-lag' effect. After passing through five time zones we arrived in Moscow at 4:11am on the 1st August. Our first experience of Moscow was the famous, opulent Metro system. Resembling the polar opposite of the usual Communistic functionalism the Moscow metro feels like a giant palace, the stations are lit by chandeliers, the walls are covered in intricate designs and adorned with famous works of art and their are giant sculptures and statues dotted around all over.
Through a friend of a friend we managed to organise a flat to sleep in in Moscow, avoiding any extortionate hotel rates. It was in the heart of the 'Czech ghetto' close to the embassy, Czech hospital and, most importantly, the Czech pub with proper Czech Pilsner at Czech prices.
Kremlin, Moscow
To me Moscow seemed to fit the stereotype - dull, grey and full of Stalinist mis-adventures. I must admit however, that walking in Red Square for the first time was quite a thrill, it did not feel real but felt more like I was in a film, bombarded with images from all sides - St. Basils Cathedral, Lenin's mausoleum, the Kremlin and the State Department store. Unfortunately we missed Lenin by two minutes, he closes at 1pm, but we were assured we could see him the next day. We visited the Kremlin which, despite being big and impressive, was not as big nor impressive as I anticipated. The worst part was that the Armoury was closed. This is where they keep squillions of dollars of treasures such as the Faberge eggs, another great sight I have failed to see. I failed to see Lenin as well as the next day was Airborne day, which means the Airborne regiment get to get drunk and fight each other, and so Red Square was closed to tourists. Away from the historical centre other parts of Moscow that we enjoyed exploring were the Kitai-Gorod, which translates as Chinatown but in fact is not at all a Chinatown but more of a fading Jewish ghetto with an impressive synagogue, and the Arbat, Moscows famous street of artists and bohemians which, like so many similar streets around the world, is now full of souvenir shops, portrait artists and restaurants. The area south of the river was also very impressive, full of giant old buildings that somehow felt more optimistic than the other parts of Moscow.
St Basils Cathedral, Moscow
We had a few cheap beers in the Czech pub, entry courtesy of our diplomatic passport holding friend, which was packed with thirsty ex-pats eager for a beer as it was the first night it had re-opened after a two-month holiday. We then left on a night train to Saint Petersburg, leaving Moscow within 72 hours and thus avoiding visa registration.
Saint Petersburg is a completely different kettle of fish. It owes its history to an entirely different era. The buildings are grand and the interiors exquisite, most of all along the famous Nevsky prospect, and all the time you expect to see a group of finely dressed aristocrats on their way to the ballet. The cities artistic secrets are revealed in the collections at the Russian museum and the Hermitage. In any other city the collection at the Russian museum would be the number one, awe-insirping attraction but here it is overshadowed by that of the Hermitage. Both are incredible, indeed in the Hermitage I remember most the temporary exhibit of Dennis Hopper photos, paintings and videos and the other temporary exhibition of Scottish celebrities and their silver items such as Ewan McGregors teapot and Robbie Coltranes whisky flask. The works of Matisse, Van Gogh, Gaugin, Monet and da Vinci were so impressive to leave me completely overwhelmed.
Christ Church of Spilled Blood
The exterior of Saint Petersburg is also beautiful. Whilst the Peter and Paul fortress, the cities first building, is slightly disappointing, the nearby mosque is very impressive. The Christ Church of Spilled Blood clearly displayed its inspiration drawn from St. Basils and the Admiralty and St Isaacs Cathedral have become images of Saint Petersburg.
About 30km from Saint Petersburg is the Summer Palace of Petrodvorets. This is a grand palace in expansive grounds full of lakes and fountains, including some tricks fountains with hidden switches to splash innocent bystanders. The weather was good and it seemed like half of 'Piter' had descended upon Petrodvorets to catch a glimpse of an opulent era buried so deep in the past.
Petrodvorets
The next day we left, just before our 72 hours were up, caught a local train to the border town at Ivangorod, a Lada taxi to the actual border post and we walked out of Russia, no questions and no problems.
I have to admit Russia has impressed me in a number of ways. I would love to return to explore it further, perhaps to the Karelia region north of Saint Petersburg, or to the Golden Ring towns around Moscow, or even the Volga region and Caucausus but at the same time I must admit that travel here is exhausting, mainly due to the bureaucracy and general unhelpful, bordering on inhuman, nature of staff in service industries. The expense of travel in Russia is another restricting factor. For the time being however I have left Russia with a very good first impression.
