Moscow
Our final train ride on the Trans-Siberian was a 26-hour journey from Yekaterinburg to Moscow. Our fellow travellers included the overly polite but slightly creepy men in our cabin and the curious, alcohol-fuelled Russian men in the dining cabin. The scenery was filled with even more postcard-perfect snapshots, and our night was filled with another bad sleep. We arrived in Moscow around 9 o’clock, tired and exhausted and not feeling welcomed by Moscow’s dreary weather.
The first stop for the day was the Metro, and it was an unexpected tourist destination. Opened in 1935, the system’s stations were designed to celebrate Russia’s socialist dictatorship, especially the values of Joseph Stalin and his Communist party. Marble walls, high ceilings, stained glass, mosaics and chandeliers adorn the walls and ceilings of the older stations. More often than not, these stations were built by British workers who were arrested for espionage and deported because they had gained so much knowledge. The second stage was completed before the Soviet Union entered World War II in 1941, with work on the third stage continuing throughout the war, where stations were often used as underground shelters during German bombings. The fourth and fifth stages were built during the 1940s and 50s, at the time of the Cold War, with some stations even built to withstand a nuclear strike.
Hopping off the metro, we entered the Kremlin, the fortress inside the city and the most famous of the Russian Kremlins. It consists of 5 palaces, 4 cathedrals, the Kremlin wall with the Kremlin towers and the Grand Kremlin Palace, formerly the Russian emperor’s residence in Moscow. We visited the Armoury, a museum showcasing carriages from Russian Empresses, battle gear from across the centuries and gifts given to Russia from various countries. We wandered around the rest of the Kremlin, impressed by the buildings, although I felt it didn’t have the same imposing feel as the Forbidden City or the London Tower. Perhaps it was impacted by the similarity of many of the buildings, the overall drabness of the season and probably our exhaustion levels.
Perhaps it was time for some food. Opening my Lonely Planet Guide, I selected one of the most recommended restaurants: a small cafe near Koliv-Godby Metro station. A waiter helped me choose some dishes from the menu, completely written in Russian, and I hoped I had managed to order something tasty. Well, my impressions of Moscow increased dramatically, very rapidly. A beautifully plated dish of dumplings with a side of sour cream was placed in front of me, and I devoured it, pleased to have eaten one of my favourite dishes of the holiday so far.
Testing my luck, I headed to the Bolshoi Theatre to book some tickets for the following night’s performance. Unfortunately, there was no performance the following evening, but some cheap seats were still available for the performance of Giselle in a couple of hours. Not wanting to miss the chance to see the inside of the theatre as well as the famous Bolshoi Ballet Company (one of the oldest in the world), I risked my luck, bought a ticket and headed to my crappy seats in the corner with limited visibility. Just before the start of the performance, the usher tapped me on the shoulder and pointed me to a seat in the front of the dress circle. With much better visibility, I relaxed into the beautiful music and was impressed by the incredible standard of the dancers, although I found the choreography (particularly in the first half) a little boring. Not bad for 50 rubles!
Waking up in a considerably better mood the following day, I left the city centre behind me and visited the Novodevichy Convent and Cemetery on the outskirts of town. Founded in 1524 by Tsar Vasily III (1479-1533) to commemorate the capture of Smolensk from Lithuania, it was built to serve as a religious institution as well as a fortress. The most important cathedral within the complex is the huge, five-domed Cathedral of the Virgin of Smolensk, dedicated in 1525. While I was in the cathedral, I was entertained by an enthusiastic story of how a brave nun extinguished a dynamite fuse ordered by Napoleon, ‘just in time’. While the fable itself might not be true, it is true that nuns were able to prevent the destruction of the cloisters in 1812 when Napoleon’s army attempted to blow up the convent.
Not normally one for cemeteries, I had been informed that the adjoining cemetery was well worth a tour. Novodevichy cemetery was first used primarily as a burial place for Moscow’s feudal rules and church officials. Later, it came to be used for Russia’s intellectuals and merchants and, in the 20th century, it was the burial place for many of the Soviet Union’s most well-known citizens. Today, the cemetery holds the tombs of Russian authors, playwrights and poets, as well as famous actors, political leaders and scientists. The tombstones are wild and varied, with creative designs and thoughtful messages, each with its own story. Andrei Gromyko’s grave, pictured below, depicts the strength of the former Minister for Foreign Affairs. The grave of Stalin’s second wife, Nadezhda Alliluyeva, stands alone, mourning her death from ‘appendicitis’, hiding that she shot herself in the heart following a lengthy depression and a public fight with her husband. The announcement of her death shocked the Soviet Union, as it was the first public announcement that Stalin had been married.
A day of history was followed by a night of frolicking as I couldn’t turn down the chance to go ice skating in the middle of Red Square. With the colours and architecture of the surrounding buildings, the snow on the ground and the Russian music blaring in the background, it was such a fun evening (even if I did happen to get a blade in my shin by tripping over some kids who fell in front of me).
As I awoke the next day, slightly in pain thanks to the blade mark on my shin, I decided to head back to Red Square and spend the morning there. While still part of the Kremlin, this area brought colour and light and a completely different atmosphere compared to the dreary section we had experienced just 2 days before. Red Square was Moscow’s main marketplace and the site of public ceremonies, proclamations and coronations. Its name stems not from its red coloured bricks, nor the link between red and communism, but simply because the Russian word ‘Krasnaya’ can either mean ‘red’ or ‘beautiful’.
After standing in line for an hour to get into Lenin’s Mausoleum, I somewhat spoilt the sombre mood by almost tripping down the stairs into several of the stern-faced guards. As I gained my composure and rejoined the procession of people walking slowly around his grave, I managed to take in the gravity of the situation. Lenin was the founder of Soviet Russia, later the Soviet Union, and leader of the Communist Party. Widely regarded as one of the most influential figures of recent history, he was viewed by his supporters as a champion of socialism, anti-imperialism and the working class. His critics accuse him of establishing a totalitarian dictatorship that governed over mass killings and political repression.
To have public access to such a significant historical figure is remarkable. And I can honestly say that, weirdly, he looks exactly like a wax version of himself.
The next stop for the day was Saint Basil’s Cathedral, an asymmetrical cathedral with unique architectural style. It has 9 church towers in varying sizes and colours and looks very different to most other Russian Orthodox Church buildings. In 1555, Tsar Ivan the Terrible ordered a monumental church to be built on the original site of the Wooden Church of the Holy Trinity, to commemorate a Russian victory over the Khanate of Kazan, three years earlier.
The last stop of the morning was the GUM department store. Originally standing for ‘Gossudarstwenny Uniwersalny Magasin’, or State Department Store, it now stands for ‘Glawny Uniwersalny Magasin’ or Main Department Store. A series of small boutique stores, it was lavishly decorated in Christmas style. Note: no purchases were made due to the expensive nature of most of the goods.
My last afternoon in Russia was spent at Poklonnaya Hill or Victory Park. Historically, the hill had great strategic importance, commanding the best view of the capital. It was the site where Napoleon expected to be given the keys to the Kremlin. However, the Russians burnt the city instead, forcing Napoleon’s troops to retreat in the depths of winter. In the 1960s, Soviet authorities created an open-air museum dedicated to the Russian victory over Napoleon. In the 1990s, a 142-metre obelisk along with the Central Museum of the Great Patriotic War was built to represent each day of the war, the section of World War II in which Russia was involved (1941-1945). The museum includes 385 volumes of Memory Books containing the names of all those who died during the Patriotic War.
And that was the end of my trip to Moscow. Moscow in winter is a delicatessen of architectural style. Simultaneously dreary and delightful, it slowly drew me in, one cathedral, ballet, train station, city wall, mausoleum, cemetery and ice skating rink at a time. And, for those of you who queried whether it was cold, I’ve enclosed an image of water freezing as soon as it leaves the tap.
