Day 18: Sunday 30th August

We’ve slept well. Trains and noise ceased around 11pm and didn’t start again till about 05.30.

It’s Sunday, the sky is clear and we prepare for our assault on Moscow, getting away at around 08.00! The haste had a downside in that I forgot the phrasebook so I return for that, losing only ten minutes in the process. Even at this time there’s a queue for metro tickets so we buy 2 x 10 goes on a magnetic strip card to avoid the same problem again. As you swipe it at the barrier the readout tells you how many credits remain.

We emerge close to the Bolshoi Theatre and make that our first target only to find the entire building wrapped up for refurbishment. Fortunately, as throughout continental Europe where building work is being undertaken, the building’s image has been reproduced on the covers so if you half-close your eyes you can just imagine what it should really look like!

We wander around the streets and then over to Red Square to join the queue for Lenin’s mausoleum. As we’re about an hour early we are quite near the front. – No bags or cameras are allowed inside but the left-luggage office is not yet open. As everywhere in Russia there are queue jumpers to contend with but it makes little odds as we are let through the barrier in small groups (after depositing the bags) and then are overseen by a string of guards who watch our every step and maintain order and respect. It’s still free entry – evidently the government has not yet succumbed to the tourist trap philosophy. Many in the queue are Russian holidaymakers but the two young men in front of us in the queue are baffling. We strain to hear where their accents are from – speaking a form of broken English with a heavy foreign accent. Are they Norwegian, or possibly Finnish we wonder, but after about ten minutes it dawns on us that they are actually Scousers!

The mausoleum is very dark and the steps down into the tomb are of black marble. Dim lighting barely illuminates the route into the inner sanctum but once inside the light from Lenin’s glass case sheds a soft glow across the path. We pause to have a better look but are immediately awoken from our concentration by the loud snap of fingers by one of the guards. No stopping allowed. Then it is up the steps on the other side and out into the sunshine again to walk along the outer Kremlin wall where the remains of all the great leaders of party and state are deposited along with other notable Soviet figures like Yuri Gagarin.

It’s time for a coffee so we amble over to the former GUM department store, which has now been converted into hundreds of expensive designer outlets. It remains a distinctive piece of architecture with its three identical parallel concourses with curved glazed roofs along the entire length. The coffee and a piece of cheesecake are not cheap but we enjoy the temporary luxury of the Illy café.

Back outside and the crowds are building up. The square is partially closed off as preparations for a forthcoming multinational tattoo go on. One of the posters shows the contingent of Scots pipers scheduled to appear. The barriers make it difficult to get a good shot of the mausoleum. We then wander down past St Basil’s colourful onion domes, taking dozens of pictures on the way, then across the bridge to get a good shot of the Kremlin wall from the riverside aspect. The bridge is at least 100 metres wide as we cross to the other side to walk back, then circumnavigating the Kremlin to find the entrance gate and ticket office. We pass it on the wrong path and have to backtrack. There’s a queue, of course, with the usual queue jumpers and then the security checks. I am sent away to deposit my ‘professional’ camera (Canon 450D) at another left-luggage office while everyone else with their compact digitals go sailing through unmolested. At least it’s a relief to have the weight off my back. Inside there are a number of buildings of varying vintage along with half a dozen Orthodox churches. These look very similar inside, full of icons, but we have to see each one just to confirm this. Outside a huge historic bell lies broken on a plinth – it is 450mm thick at the rim! – and a cannon weighing 40 tons. In one church we catch five minutes of some choral singing and I buy the CD for Jill as she is so impressed with the sound.

After this we find the metro and take a short trip down to Tolstoy’s suburban residence, a fairly simple place kept now as a museum. The tube train is crowded with Spartak Moscow supporters but they’re all very good-natured.

As we return to the metro an itinerant woman’s dog snaps at my heels and when I look at her for an apology she is red-faced, but only with drink not embarrassment. Her possessions are kept in a shopping trolley and she is halfway through another beer.

Then back to base without difficulties. During the day we have seen a further two white-wedding parties in Red Square. It is clearly a tradition that is very much alive to have photos done at some memorial or other to signify gratitude to the suffering and achievements of those who went before, to Mother Russia and a confirmation of patriotism that they will continue into the future.

A huge number of people are in uniform: soldiers, OMON, militsia, traffic police (DPS), private security guards, museum officials, etc. Apart from a small amount of street drinking we have seen no sign whatsoever of any threats, no signs yet of ‘wild Russia’. Tourists are all carrying their backpacks and cameras in full view. There are no gangs or muggings in sight – and no gypsies either. Here and there we find buskers and beggars but we’d say there is more to be concerned about in Leicester city centre than in Pete or Moscow. Neither have we been approached by money-changers or hassled by police for our papers. And there is little evidence of overcharging of tourists – except, perhaps, by Illy!