The sun never sets —on Russia

Press, 1 September 1977, Page 17

The sun never sets —on Russia

TERRY SMITH, of “The Press” editorial staff, is at present recuperating among the green and pleasant hills and dales of Kent after completing an arduous, 10,000 kilometre crossing of the great plains of Russia. Smith says that he will not repeat the trip too often . . .

The las: great adventure,” the travel brochures called it. To me it was more like the last great exercise in patience. Travelling across Russia by the Trans Siberian Express is no adventure — it is simply a test of stamina, an endurance test. I’m glad I did it, but I will not be repeating it ir. a hurry.

Many people have asked me what I thought of Russia and what the train journey was like. They have probably been surprised that I could not supply a pat answer; but to try to give a onesentence impression of Russia, or even to describe a “simple" train journey, would be like trying to play the piano after one easy lesson. It cannot be done.

Everyone knows that the country is big, but just how big is hard to comprehend. From east to west is about lO.tfOOkm. And travelling by train non-stop it would take more than a week to get from one side to the other.

Russia has 11 time zones; and when the sun is setting on its western borders it is rising on its

eastern coast. It stretches from the Arctic Ocean down to China, and across to Iran, Turkey, and up to Poland and Finland. A country of this size should offer a vast variety of scenery, but it is not so. I found it scenically boring. The first morning on the train, when it was just beginning to get light, I looked out of the window and saw flat, green fields, green trees, and low hills. Sixteen days and 10,000 km later I was still seeing flat, green fields, green trees, and lot hills. To a New Zealander whose country offers trem e n d o u s geographical changes it was incredible that a country as large as Russia should have such an unchanging landscape. My remarks only apply to the part of the country I saw — from the east coast near Vladivostok, up to Khabarovsk, across to Irkutsk, Novosibirsk, and Moscow, and on to Leningrad, and finally to the border with Helsinki. I was told that southwestern Russia — the area around Tashkent and Samarkand, and near the Caspian and Black seas — was much more inter-

esting, with its high mountains and contrasting landscapes. And when I use the name “Russia” I mean what should be called the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, consisting of 15 republics embracing more than 100 ethnic strains. Russian is the common language, but many groups retain their own

language, and have their own national dress and customs.

This variety makes it difficult to summarise what the people are like. In Finland, for instance, it is safe to generalise and to say that most youngsters in Finland are fair and slim. But in Russia there are fair people and dark people, big and little, fat and skinny, tall and short, pretty and ugly. Some of the generalisations that I have read

about Russia and its people now seem, after I have seen for myself, quite ridiculous. Some of my remarks will be generalisations but to qualify everything becomes tedious — so generalisations they will have to remain. One writer said that the Russian people did not smile just to put others at

ease; they smiled only if they were really amused. I found that true in some

cases, but it was more often not true. Another writer said that Russian men wore pyjamas on trains. In eight days and nights on Russian trains I never saw anybody in pyjamas — unless the track suits that only a few wore could be called pyjamas. Yet another person wrote that the food in Russia was unpalatable to

Westerners. I found it perfectly al! right — most of the time. Before I went to Russia I had visions of “Big Brother” watching over everyone and the K.G.B. tailing tourists the moment they stepped outside their hotel; but while in the country such ideas never entered my head. I never thought to look for

“bugs” in my rooms either. If there had been any listeners they would

have heard only me talking to myself. To all intents and purposes we were free to go pretty well where we liked. Those with relatives in Russia could visit them in their homes or have them to their hotel rooms; and some Russian people visited Westerners they may have just met in the street. Admittedly, not long

before I was in Moscow an American journalist was hustled into a car by the K.G.B. and taken away for interrogation. He had an unpleasant time, but the incident was apparently aimed at President Carter and his remarks about human rights rather than the journalist himself.

Tourists with Russian relatives cannot usually stay with their relatives. I thought at first that this was for political reasons, but I now think it was simply to get more overseas money into the coffers by making them pay for hotel accommodation.

The standard of Russian hotels, particularly outside of Moscow and Lenintrade. is poor; but the prices are high. I stayed eight nights in hotels (and eight on trains) and the average price a room a night was $4O. I stayed in hotels in Singapore, Hong Kong, Japan, many parts of Europe, and in London, but none cost more than $2O a night, and most were of much higher standard than Russian hotels.

But direct comparisons are difficult because the Russian price included the cost of a porter to meet

tourists on the platform, a bus or a taxi to the hotel, a tour of the city by bus or car. transport back to the station when leaving, as well as the services of an Intourist guide. The price also included all meals, but instead of the hotels just supplying the meals without extra charge, we were giver cash at the start of tht journey. In my case i was about $lOO — oh viously the amount the' expected me to spend o food in 16 days. Whatevi I spent it on I had les than $1 worth of Russi; money when I left th* country. At Khabarovsk, Irkuts! and Novosibirsk the hotel were all fairly primitiv< The plumbing was alway the worst feature — rough tiling and pipe work: toilets that often did not work properly water that would not run or no hot water; and plugs that were usually missing. Towels were usually the size of handkerchiefs, and even if there were three or four lights in a room often only one would work. Lifts might or might not work, and in one room my telephone rang incessantly.