Day 19: Monday 31st August
We wake up to rain and a cold wind. Just as my book Stalingrad warned – like the Germans in 1941 we are surprised by the sudden change in the weather at the end of August!
But the weather didn’t matter too much as we had set aside the day to do a proper tour of the metro’s classic stations. It’s fabulous stuff: artistry, socialist realism, political correctness and the manifestation of the official high ideals of the late thirties – just as Stalin continued to eliminate the Bolshevik old guard through the purges and show trials.
We haven’t eaten out much in Russia – and when we have it’s been a struggle understanding the menu. But we chance our arm in a modernish café and as soon as we start talking the waitress trips off and returns with an English menu. I had a delicious crepe with chicken livers, sauté potatoes and sour cream, washed down with green tea – a nice one without any of the bitter aftertaste that it sometimes has.
Next up we go to see the ‘International Exhibition Centre’ – a great example, in its day, of socialist exuberance, with a distinctive pavilion for every one of the fifteen republics in the old Soviet Union. In their prime they were showcases for the achievements of socialism in each republic but now, despite their carefully preserved outward appearance, inside they are rather miserable affairs – each one containing dozens of partitioned concessions selling everything from mobile phones to wedding dresses. There are lots of camera shops but the expert on lenses, to whom we are taken by another camera shop owner, is unable to offer a fix for my stuck zoom lens. Most of the electronics shops are run by men of Asian appearance. Clothes and CD shops are also plentiful. A Soviet old-timer might well slash his wrists if he could see what is going on here now.
Next we go across the road to the space flight monument – a soaring construction of stainless steel glinting in the sunshine. Alongside there is an array of busts of the space flight pioneers, both scientists and cosmonauts. Great photos but the museum is closed for the day and we resolve to return tomorrow before we leave Moscow.
On the way back to base we find a supermarket and buy in some provisions. Shortly afterwards Jill goes headlong on the path as she hits an (not unusual) uneven bit. Just a graze, thankfully.
During our travels on the metro we had come across a pregnant young woman begging. She holds up a sign (in Russian) ‘Help, I have no husband’. But she has no collecting tin or hat so not sure how she expects help to be given.
During the evening I manage to get the laptop partially charged in the hotel lobby and to dump the waste water down a street drain. A night guard from a car park comes over to see what I am doing but is satisfied when I assure him that it is not foul water and that it is hygienic to dump it. No choice really.
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