Tourist trials in Russia

Press, 5 August 1980, Page 19

Tourist trials in Russia

By

EDNA HOUGH,

of Christchurch, whose travels through

the Soviet Union took her to Moscow early last month as the city prepared to host the Olympic Games.

Sunshine was suimmering on golden domes and spires beside the Moscow -River. Churches and museums were “closed for restoration” (Intourist jargon), and scaffolding surrounded many buildings. The city was getting a shampoo and shine one month before “Olympiada.” . A recently finished equestrian track was being landscaped. Huge gleaming copper horses needed placement. A new hotel looked embarrassed by rubble heaps around its entrance. One got the impression of persistent, plodding w.ork. The huge main stadium, as. viewed from the Lenin Hills, looked attractive among trees, bare flagpoles at the entrance awaiting the advent of how many nations'? J It was interesting to try visualising the scene four weeks hence. Russian slowness in processing foreign visitors made one consider possible frustrations in store for the July crowds. As for myself I will always remember one airport s marble hall adorned with many modern cubicles to cope with queues. Only two operated and the big, melancholy officials contrasted unpleasantly with the small, smiling Japanese who had sent us on our way efficiently that morning. Here, in this forbidding place, consternation and a two-hour time lag occurred because of missing visa stamps and errors on accommodation vouchers. They were obvious administrative mistakes, but Moscow had to be consulted while a plane-load af tired travellers Chewed finger nails in a bus outside. Tne situation was not serious, but a s .°tt .of charade—the Russians were living up to their reputation. The checking of currency forms which record monies and valuables carried by people arriving and leaving, is another time-consuming official hobby. The natives try to buy hard currency with roubles at black-market rates. Foreigners may also gain extra roubles (which must later be accounted for) if they dispose of their western clothing. Our New Zealand tour guide had taken a group across the U.S.S.R. on the Trans-Siberian Express. She took her clothes, grubby with soot from solid-fuel samovars, to a hotel laundry and returned exhausted and amazed. The staff had acted in a puzzling fashion, pressing roubles into her palm. An interpreter had informed the lass, who was desperate for a clean outfit, that she had just sold her dirty one. A further sad time-waster is the selling of pre-paid meal vouchers to tour groups. Accommodation can be 30 km (half an hour) from a city centre. Lunch served in a leisurely manner can take an hour. In our case, this sort of programme left us one hour in which to explore Leningrad’s Hermitage Museum! We appreciated the hotels, sometimes in attractive' set-, tings, but would have traded the scenic value for accommodation that was more central. Further inroads into touring time

were made by arranged visits to Berioska shops, where we could part with our dollars, sterling or yen. Articles of amber, .onyx and wood, jewellery, interesting foods and wines, were available at reasonable prices. This type of shopping gave us unhappy feelings when we noticed the poorly stocked establishments where Russians, with roubles only, were forced to purchase necessities, often in queues. It seemed surprising that the uninterested shopkeepers had bothered to open the doors to sell a few boxes of soap powder. The shopkeepers’ productivity resembled that of the women with witches’ brooms, who scratched away under my window at 7 a.m„ disturbing the dust. (In June, a Helsinki newspaper reported a short strike in the U.S.S.R., brought about by the unavailability of goods.)

The brooms make me look at .other old-fashioned and labour - intensive customs, such as the use of white damask table cloths and serviettes. Clean napkins appeared at each meal in the hotel. On the trains we found the familiar damask cloths which with white curtains to match, seemed unlikely companions for a samovar. The serviettes consisted of tiny triangles of paper. Toilet paper was more often absent than present. A paper shortage seemed ludicrous when, for more than

8000 km, the train windows revealed magnificent forests of birches and pines. So much for the irritations. What are the assets to be discovered by a critical world?

The memorable delights were the beauty of sable fur on the Tzar’s crown in the Kremlin armoury; Cossack riding at the circus, the beasts and riders performing with precision in an incredibly small ring; the golden peacock clock in the Hermitage, when it strikes the tail of the peacock displays and the owl rolls its eyes; pearl-encrusted gowns in the armoury. Similar garments were, incredibly, once worn by barefoot peasant women near a Russian river which produced uncultured pearls for the taking. Queens might have envied the richly dressed and simple souls attending to humble tasks. Amazingly cheap transport gladdened our hearts—five kopeks (almost nothing) to ride the Metro, crossing Moscow for 40 miles in most directions. You ciuld stay down there riding- the various lines all day for one payment. We didn’t meet anyone who had, but it was a prospect worth contemplating in between loudspeaker announcements. A

welcome English voice gave the station name plus the instruction to “Mind the doors! Next stop Kayhavskaya.” or somewhere even less pronounceable. It was always a relief to plough one’s way through to a seat opposite a map and discover one had indeed boarded the correct train. The centrally situated stations were virtual art galleries, with ceiling alcoves of paintings and mosaics showing scientific and historical happenings. Here was a vandal-less society! Compared with the crowded underground system, the streets were not congested. Roads were wide and the traffic was fairly sparse for so large a city. Intourist buses formed a noticeable percentage of the vehicles and the smooth-flowing highway system was one speedy factor of Russian fife. The friendliness of the average Russian “man in the train” became apparent. Clumsy discussions took place in several broken languages. The locals asked how we could achieve such long holidays, timewise and and moneywise, and * what did we earn? They themselves made journeys across their own vast land, to warm regions around the Black Sea, at low cost. w..e family travelling from the eastern sector to beyond Moscow paid only BNZ7O equivalent per adult. At week-ends many poured on to ferries across rivers to islands, carrying fishing rods and antiquated haversacks. Some took trays .of plants for their “summer house” gardens. The “summer house” might only be a tool shed on a tiny cultivated plot, but was an excuse for a country outing away from a drab, high-rise home. People fished anywhere, from a pond with a good supply of garbage, to an ocean. Wrapped up against the sea breezes, pedestrians walked their dogs and showed more concern for animals than is seen in some countries.

Hotels provide a useful service in the form of a desk person on each floor. Key keeper and general assistant, each desk person sleeps by his phone and can produce ironing facilities, iced water, or a hot water bottle, on request, although the request might have to be in French or Hungarian! The colour and sparkle of the large cities are welcoming. Fountains are commonplace, and turn every pond into a panorama. Moscow’s Exhibition of Economic Achievement and Leningrad’s Summer Palace are outstanding examples of the massed effect of cascading waters in elegant surroundings. Red stars shine from each spire at night, adding to the magic. In the past, Russia has shown herself capable of doing great things with international impact. We could well imagine that Olympiada 80. desoite apparent shortages of humble things like cutlery, paper and good plumbing, would be a glittering showcase for Russian greatness.