Woody’s First Night in Moscow
I felt hot to the point of being uncomfortable in my Moscow hotel room at the ‘Ukraine’. The heating seemed to be too high. Anyway, at least the huge 1950s Gothic style hotel was in a convenient location on the banks of the River Moskva and close to Kievskaya metro station.
I left the hotel at 6-30 p.m. and stepped straight into February temperatures approaching
-30 degrees. An awaiting yellow taxi flashed its headlights to catch my attention as soon as I passed through the large hotel swing doors. Climbing into the warm taxi I asked my driver in Russian if he could take me to Red Square where I wanted to view Lenin’s Tomb and St Basil’s Cathedral. Having only arrived in Moscow two hours earlier for a one week winter vacation I was eager to see the famous landmarks.
After a short journey during which the driver offered me a swig from his bottle of vodka which lay beside him, I climbed out at the entrance to Red Square. I paid the driver in rubles and thanked him then stepped into the freezing, snow covered, dimly lit Moscow streets. The pavement leading uphill to Red Square was covered in a thick layer of snow and ice but the main square was relatively clear. The large red stars on the clock tower and Kremlin shone brightly while huge communist posters of Lenin and Marx in red, white and black added colour to the scene. I walked in the direction of St Basil’s Cathedral, brightly illuminated from the front at the opposite end of the Square. It was a magnificent building with its multi coloured domes.
Russian couples walked past, huddled together in their fur coats and hats. Some ate ice cream which they had bought from a nearby booth. I later learned with surprise that ice cream is eaten all year round in Russia, even in the heart of winter. An old woman wearing a woollen hat, dark blue overcoat, grey scarf and felt boots swept the ground with a small brush and small groups of Asiatic people ventured past, obviously from one of the far off Soviet Republics to do homage to their hero Vladimir Lenin whose wax like body lay on public display in the nearby Lenin Mausoleum in front of the Kremlin wall.
Exactly on the hour the Kremlin church bells sounded, people from all over the square began to converge in front of Lenin’s Mausoleum. From inside the Kremlin, two Russian soldiers dressed in fur hats, heavy grey coats and gloves performed a goose step march with guns over their shoulders towards two other soldiers guarding the entrance of the mausoleum. A changeover took place. The relieved soldiers then performed a similar march back into the Kremlin. They resembled clockwork toy soldiers.
As a street cleaning vehicle rumbled slowly past me, spraying my legs with ice particles, I turned towards GUM, the famous Moscow shopping centre with its ornate balconies and dim lighting, not exactly Harrods but interesting all the same. The goods on sale were basic although I was fascinated by a collection of small metallic Soviet badges and I bought several of these. By this time my feet were aching so I walked down to Gorky Street for a taxi to return to the hotel. A long line of waiting shoppers stretched from inside a nearby bakery for at least thirty yards along the pavement. Basic food shortages and long queues were common at this time.
The traffic was quite heavy and as I passed a bus stop I saw a middle aged man dressed in an overcoat and fur hat sprawled on the snow covered pavement while his wife tried to lift him to his feet with great difficulty. He had consumed too much alcohol and was unable to stand. I helped the worried woman haul her husband to his feet but his legs crumpled underneath him and he fell back on to the pavement. Suddenly, a bus arrived and after the passengers had climbed aboard I dragged the man with great difficulty by his arm on to the bus. He lay on the floor just above the steps.
“Spaciba! Spaciba!” said his wife to me with great relief while two passengers helped haul the man into a seat. As the bus sped off a passing taxi pulled alongside me and took me back to my hotel. I felt happy that I had seen Red Square.
When I ventured into the hotel bar I met a lone British tourist having a quiet drink at the bar. He was the only customer there. He offered me a drink then we got into conversation. Eventually, he told me that his name was Brian, that he had been invited to a Russian party and asked me to accompany him. We left the bar, jumped into a taxi outside and twenty minutes later somewhere in the centre of Moscow we entered a huge public building, passed through a set of double doors to find ourselves in the middle of a Russian wedding reception. A band played lively Russian folk music loudly while men, women and children of all ages whirled each other around the dance floor. In the middle of this vibrant bustle the bride and groom, in an almost intoxicated condition, held each other tightly and danced uneasily. The bride’s long white silk wedding dress dragged on the floor. Suddenly, the music stopped, a middle aged Russian man went to the microphone on the stage, gave a quick speech and then proposed a toast to the newly married couple. Everyone raised their glasses and shouted “Za Vashi Zdorovyay.”
After gulping back champagne the gathered throng threw their glasses over their shoulders which smashed on the floor behind then they burst into a simultaneous applause. The bride and groom after drinking a separate toast thanked everyone then departed to pay homage at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier near the Kremlin wall and Biblioteka Lenina, a tradition for all newly wed couples in Moscow. The music started up again and the dancing continued. The scene was one of fun, happiness and drunkenness.
While I sat and watched the social celebrations and drank more and more vodka, two Russian women came over to me and introduced themselves in English as Tanya and Olga. I assumed that they were relatives of the happily married couple and got into conversation with them about a whole range of matters. Tanya invited me to dance while Olga danced or rather held Brian upright on the dance floor. After about two hours of dancing and drinking Brian disappeared then suddenly, I still don’t know how, I found myself sitting in a taxi between the two Russian ladies, Tanya’s fur hat on my head and strapped under my chin with my mind whirling and Olga kissing me on the right cheek.
After about half an hour and my sense of time completely gone due to my condition, Moscow began to fade into the background and the deserted motorway rushed past. With my senses returning I asked the ladies where we were going.
“We are taking you to the best night club in the area”, replied Tanya.
“Where is it?” I answered. “We have been travelling for about 45 minutes”.
Looking at me smiling, Tanya replied. “We will be there in a few minutes, don’t worry”.
After approximately twenty minutes the taxi drew up at a large building beside the motorway somewhere in the snow covered countryside. From the outside it resembled a large public building rather than a top class night club and nobody was going inside. After paying the taxi driver an outrageously high fare I walked into the building with my two female companions.
A large, overweight Russian man with a crew cut hair style dressed in a shabby black suit took the entrance fee from me. I ventured downstairs with my female companions into a semi lit cellar. Red lighting illuminated the corners of the room and a whirling multi coloured sphere on the ceiling cast different colours on the dance floor below. Several men and women were dancing to Western music while others sat on chairs chatting and laughing. I talked with my female companions for a while, performed several dances before one of them asked me to return to her apartment. She asked me for 50 dollars to spend the night with her. Already agitated by my earlier experience and worry about my location I decided to pay for the drinks and leave the two ladies. The barman would only accept foreign currency so I paid him a twenty pound note for three drinks. In return he gave me a packet of chewing gum for change. Enraged, I got into an argument with the man who immediately called for the security. Two large, hard looking gangster like figures stood glaring over me with an aggressive manner. I turned, took my overcoat from the peg closeby and stumbled outside into the freezing Russian night.
As I quickly put on my gloves I noticed that the night, although bitterly cold, was very still without a breath of wind. The motorway was completely clear and snow was piled up to about six feet high each side of the road. I could see the lights of Moscow in the far distance. Traffic was almost totally absent.
I decided to walk in the direction of the far off lights not really knowing what lay ahead. I just stomped in the direction of Moscow. The cold froze my nose and icicles formed on my moustache. As several vehicles passed I put out my arm in hope that they would stop. They kept going so I continued my lone journey.
After about thirty minutes I saw a figure leaning against a bus stop. He was dressed in a fur hat, a dark grey overcoat and scarf. In his right hand he held a half full bottle of vodka which he swigged periodically. He beckoned me over when he saw me and spoke in slurred Russian which I could barely understand and I don’t think he understood either.
After vainly trying to converse with the man for several minutes a vehicle approached and I noticed a taxi light on the roof. I waved it down and jumped into the back seat while the drunken middle aged man took the front passenger seat. The taxi driver asked me where I was going and I told him the hotel Ukraine. The other passenger conversed with him very quickly in Russian. Both men looked back at me with interest. It seemed that they were trying to make a decision about something.
After several minutes the taxi turned off the motorway and drove down a narrow and deserted lane. Eventually, it stopped beside a wooden datcha. Both men turned and looked at me while discussing something in Russian.
“Dengi! Dengi!” shouted the driver at me which meant money in English.
I repeatedly refused and told the driver I wanted to go to the Hotel Ukraine. Both men became more aggressive with me but I stood my ground and also became aggressive. Preparing myself for a conflict I was surprised when my fellow passenger pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it to reveal a calendar. He tried to sell it to the driver as a means of paying for his ride. The driver, after a lot of argument eventually accepted it and the passenger jumped out of the taxi and disappeared into the datcha.
The taxi driver turned on the meter, checked to see if I still wanted to go to the Hotel Ukraine then drove me in the direction of Moscow. After a journey of about twenty five minutes without any conversation we quickly passed through the deserted streets of Moscow then the taxi drew up at the Hotel Ukraine. I paid the driver for which he thanked me then wished me a good night with the words “Spakoinay Noche”. I got out of the taxi and turned towards the entrance of the hotel, happy to arrive after an enlightening first night in Moscow.
