Depressing — from start to finish

Press, 1 September 1977, Page 17

Depressing — from start to finish

First impressions of a place are often changed by the time we leave it, but my first impression of Russia did not change. We arrived at the Russian port of Nakhodka by ship from Japan about 5 p.m. on a cold, bleak Monday. The buildings looked drab; the surroundings were bleak and colourless; it was all most depressing

After 16 days in Russia, with conditions improving slightly in Western Russia, my overfall impressicm of Russia still is that it is interesting but depressing. The reasons for this are hard to pinpoint but they include the lack of colour (not much paint, no flower gardens, no jazzy advertising); the lack of

buildings of any aesthetic appeal (except some old Ones, and churches and cathedrals); the lack of landscaping; the lack of maintenance of footpaths and roads; the long grass; and a general air of scruffiness. It all affected me quite strongly. But for those who could overlook the “mere physical surroundings” and

concentrate on the people they would find that they seem just like people anywhere else. The standard of dress was “average Western,” but those who had been to Russia before said there was now more colour worn. No-one that I saw looked particularly poor, and neither did I see anyone looking particularly smart. Girls often wear mini-skirts — but, unfortunately, they also often have heavy legs. I spent little time looking in shops, partly because there was little to look at. I had a quick look in G.U.M., Moscow's largest department store. It was probably built about 1860, and it does not seem to have been cleaned or modernised since. A country store in New Zealand with one customer a week would have a greater variety of goods to offer. People, mostly women, clustered around displays of shoes or material and bought them as fast as they could be unpacked. The. urgency seemed to he because of shortages rather than because they were of high quality. The lack of private cars in the cities is very noticeable. Buses and trucks outnumber cars everywhere except possibly in Moscow and Leningrad. Most of the Intourist cars I rode in were in reasonable condition, but many of the taxis were mechanical calamities. Buses similarly were often pretty rough. Again, in Moscow and Leningrad, Intourist had many modem buses, but I happened to ride in only one of them.

Cities have marked pedestrian crossings but I could never work out why — traffic never stopped for anyone on them,

except where the crossings were controlled by lights. Traffic could move fairly quickly because of the nearly empty streets and anyone crossing had to make sure the way was well clear. While on trains in the Soviet Union I thought their standard was quite good, but after travelling on European trains I can only say that the Russian trains do not compare too well.

The first Russian train I travelled on — the “boat train" from Nakhodka to Khabarovsk — was fairly new and created a good impression. But the 16hour ride was rough, and the train rocked a lot because of an uneven track. At Khabarovsk, after a night’s stay, we boarded the Trans Siberian Express, train No.l, and it was rather disappointing. In New Zealand my travel agent and the little literature available said that tourists could travel “hard” or “soft” — the difference being the upholstery, with the hard cheaper, of course. But, in fact, the important difference between the two classes is that in “soft” there are only two persons sharing a compartment, and in “hard” there are four to a compartment. When the space in both cases is only 6ft by 7ft sharing with two or four persons, and their luggage, makes quite a difference. Especially when it is one’s living quarters for several days. After travelling for an hour or two Serge, Rus-sian-born but now an Australian resident, said he would try to get us changed to first class. He went off and arranged it, and at the next station, where the train stopped

for a few minutes, we made the transfer, using the platform rather than trying to struggle through the train’s corridors with our luggage. I had intended going only to Irkutsk “soft” but in the end I went right on to Me scow for another $5O. The cost of “hard” class from Nakhodka to Moscow was about $l9O, with another $4O from Moscow to Helsinki, and the whole 10,000 km journey, with the extra for travelling “soft,” cost me about $290. A very cheap rate per kilometre. My advice to anyone contemplating the trip is to go “soft” unless you are really hard up, or unless you want to “get close to the people.” And you can get too close. Whatever class you travel in you can meet people, but communication can be difficult as few Russians speak English. The train stopped at many stations, the stoppages varying from one minute to 20. It also stopped for repair or maintenance gangs, consisting of as many women as men, and on some of the long, steep grades on the first three days the train got so slow it alsmost seemed that it would be quicker to walk. At many of the stations there was no platform; then there was a long drop from the steps to the ground. Usually no warning was given that the train was about to move off, and more than one person had to make a wild dash to get back on board.

In several places in Siberia I saw huge “graveyards” of old steam engines. I wondered why they were not used for

scrap, but someone suggested they were “reserves” in case of war Unlikely, I thought. Quite a lot of military hardware was seen on rail waggons, but considering the sice of the country there was probably not a great amount of such traffic. One of the difficulties in deciding whether a vehicle was a military one was the Russian practice of painting ordinary trucks and other vehicles in what we consider a military colour, such as khaki. Most of the ones I saw were being used for non-military purposes, but I think it safe to suggest that these would almost certainly be taken over by the military if necessary. At all the stations, and

in the towns and cities, there were always men in uniforms to be seen, but I could never work out what they all were. Some were policemen and others were soldiers, but 4 was told that they should just be referred to as “the militia.” Probably the enforcers of the law who really counted did not wear uniforms . ■. . In any case it was the

women who give most of the orders in Russia. Even quite young women did not hesitate to “dress down” a big husky man twice her age if he was slow to do what he was asked to, or if he questioned her orders. The hotels seemed to be almost entirely staffed by women, with women manning (if that is the right ■word) the many reception

desks, the ticket and information bureau, and other little desks in foyers but with no obvious work to do. Nearly all the Intourist guides and office staff were women, as were shop assistants, post office and bank clerks, and restaurant workers. Even the chef on the ship from Japan to Russia was a woman — and a young one at that.