March 26, 2001 (Day 19): Intourist Hotel, Moscow – 11pm
I have got to start getting to bed earlier. Up late watching the BBC’s take on Oscar night. The clown from Talking Movies considers the biggest “moment” of the Oscars was how poorly the Brits fared. He did not elaborate exactly when this specific “moment” occurred. He was standing in the front yard of a post-awards party listing people he felt should have been nominated. No wonder he was not invited inside. At any moment I expected Tom Hanks to race out and turn a garden hose on him.
The cold weather helped to keep our sightseeing interests light. Past the Moskva River, across the road from an entrance to Gorky Park, is the Tsentralny Dom Khudozhnikov (Central Gallery of Artists). The gardens behind this building are full of the old statues of Lenin, Stalin, and Dzerzhinsky that have been taken from all parts of the city and, essentially, dumped here. This is the Graveyard of Fallen Monuments. Mixed in with the various Red Stars, hammers and sickles, and busts of Brezhnev are memorial artworks for those that suffered during Communist rule. The most memorable was a collection of sculpted heads stacked in a box. The box itself was wrapped with barbed wire and prison lights, illuminating the heads within. The juxtaposition of this piece lying in the shadow of the proud figure of Felix Dzerzhinsky, founder of the Cheka, had great appeal.
A bit of shopping today. We wandered the Stary Arbat (Old Arbat) again to pick up some of our souvenirs, including requisite matrioshki and Russian-style fur hats. It was also a great chance to work on our bartering stance. Suffice to say, we suck at bartering. Then we stocked up for the train ride at the British store off the Novy (New) Arbat. We are not sure what to expect on the train; our books offer a full range of opinions. There is a dining car on the train itself and our books say there will be food available for sale at kiosks at platforms along the way. The quality of these options varies with each reviewer. So a few packs of instant soups and pastas, yogurt, cereal, bread, nutella, some dried sliced meats, and boxes of juice and milk to supplement the coffee and tea we have already. Either way, we will have enough provisions to last a day or two to until we figure out our plan.
After this we rode the Metro up to see the Lubyanka, the former insurance office building that became the headquarters of the KGB. One of the stories surrounding the building is that the city planners built the metro nearby to cover the sounds from the prison cells below. The statue of Dzerzhinsky is gone from the plaza in front of the building. About the only thing to distinguish this from other large yellow buildings in Moscow is the bust of Yuri Andropov on the wall. In a bit of real estate cynicism, adjacent to the Lubyanka building is Detsky Mir, billed at the time of its opening as the largest toy store in the world. We arrived near closing time so it had the melancholy feel of the closing day of the circus fused with a 1960’s era Toys R Us.
Flipping through the Moscow English-language newspapers to find out what is going on in the world. The Moscow Tribune has a legitimate feel to it. Cover stories on international events provided by Reuters and the Associated Press and others. Upcoming exhibits and films listed as well as the requisite club guide. It provides great contrast to the eXile, a rag with the feel of having been written by a pack of 20-somethings (or, more likely, 40-somethings pretending to be 24 again) drinking and whoring their way around Moscow. Their phraseology hints at American frat boy or drunken Brit. Yet, I have to admit a horrid fascination, especially the club guide, complete with icons rating the likelihood of getting laid or beaten up at each locale.
On a related note, we took a run downstairs and see the women working the atrium. I had gone down earlier in the evening looking for potato chips and felt Anna should see these sights also, mainly to make sure I was not imagining things. Our tour books mentioned this phenomenon, but it is something to see. The women themselves were not so frightening, but the large men also circulating throughout the lobby area were a little more intimidating.
I love the members of our housekeeping staff!! Our attempts to find a laundromat have not been successful and we were despairing about trying to get clean clothes prior to leaving on the train. We tried to use the hotel laundry service yesterday but it was closed on Sunday. This morning, housekeeping came and knocked on our door especially to get our laundry. When we returned after our explorations, clean clothes were waiting for us! The joy of clean clothes! What a treat on the eve of several days on a train.
The constant repacking takes its toll. After this much time on the road, we know everything will fit and have each memorized the puzzle-like way each item fits into our bags. It is not physically difficult, but it is mentally wearing.
Excerpts from Anna’s journal included.
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