Mission to Moscow

May 1st-2nd, 2018 (Tuesday-Wednesday)

Off to the airport at 11:30 for my flight to Newark. Check in was a breeze, and the only slight worry was a short flight delay due to windy conditions in Newark. At the gate, a man approached me and asked if I worked for MARS as I use my dad's old promotional backpack. I said no, and he told me he thought I was a Persian guy that he knew worked for the company.

Persian? Me? Add that up to the list of races I can pass for. Perhaps it’s the beard.

On the plane, I sat next to an interesting woman who fits men's suits in Manhattan. She was born and raised in Korea and was visiting Tennessee as her parents now live in Clarksville.

I had to run to my gate in Newark, as boarding began the moment my plane from Nashville landed. The little of the Newark airport I saw looked nice. Thankfully, they hadn’t finished boarding group 1 (I was in group 4) by the time I arrived, so I had a few minutes to drink some water and use the bathroom.

Inside the 777 to Brussels boarding went smoothly but for the group of Hasidic Jewish men who refused to sit next to female passengers. What passed was 10 minutes of ‘musical chairs' to satisfy them along with some eye rolling on the part of the flight attendants, but everything got settled out in the end.

Bumpy flight (more like jiggly) for the first three hours or so. Not terrible, and my anti-anxiety pills were doing their job. I had some water and a roll for dinner. In the flight's final hours there was a small domestic drama across the aisle from me: a heavyset New Yorker lost his 9/11 pin. Saying it was sentimental, he damn near tore apart his seat looking for it. He found the pin jammed between the metal supports between the seat and backrest. Glad he found it. At that moment the sun rose outside as if to bless the event. He was a nice guy. Said he was going to Naples, something he does four times a year. I ate breakfast: a soggy (but warm) croissant and fruit yogurt. That and some coffee went down wonderfully as I tried to trick my body into thinking it had slept during the flight.

The Brussels airport reminded me of Nashville's airport before Southwest took over all the abandoned American Airlines gates: too much open space. Having two hours to kill, I had a sandwich and coffee before listening to some music on my computer. By the time my plane to Moscow was ready to board, however, the place had filled up significantly. The entire terminal was for Brussels Airlines flights leaving to Russia and Africa, so there were many African people around. Even on my flight, I followed three sharp-dressed, French-speaking African men onto the plane.

Brussels Airlines was the Spirit Airlines of Western Europe. Nothing was free, not even water. And the seats were barely 2" thick. I sat next to two Spanish women going on a 10-day tour of Russia. I guess they were going to meet their group. As I was sitting in the back, the flight was pretty bumpy, but the pilot kept flying higher to avoid it. As we descended below the clouds two-and-a-half hours later, I got my first look at rural Russia: flat as a pancake and small villages surrounded by endless farmland. Slavic Kansas. By the end of the flight I felt a little loopy and audibly sighed when the wheels touched down at Domodedovo.

A couple of years ago Domodedovo got the smart idea to finally add metal barriers so people could line up for Passport Control. Back in the day, everyone bum-rushed one of the 13 booths. I got through in about 20 minutes. Watching the woman inspect my visa, I prayed that the good folks at Passports and Visas Express hadn’t duped me. I got through just fine. Phew! The second ‘Phew!’ came when my suitcase was waiting for me on the carousel.

Outside the airport, it was a warm, almost summer afternoon. There were large signs for the Aeroexpress, the express train that goes between the airport and central Moscow. I bought a round-trip ticket and sat on the upper deck to get a good view. From my window seat I absorbed everything I saw during the trip. Birch trees – millions of birch trees - line the path. On no fewer than five occasions did I spot couples or groups of friends having a picnic (or merely getting hammered) on the rail embankment. The result of all this ‘picnicing’ was endless litter. Other highlights included a colorful graveyard, graffiti, a packed 10-lane freeway, cookie-cutter apartments, and dozens of rusted-out car garages people would rent during the Soviet era to protect their automobiles.

At Paveletskaya Station things got complicated as I boarded the metro. Getting lost twice (and a cop scanning my backpack with a metal detector), I finally made it up to Mendeleyevskaya where a massive storm burst greeted me. Having my umbrella was only a slight help, as by the time I walked into the hotel everything below my knees was soaked. Checking in was no problem, and I got a room on the 16th floor. From 1609 I could see five Stalin Skyscrapers and the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour with its gold onion dome out of the corner of my eye.

Legs drying out, I toddled down to the first floor café for a burger and martini. The poor girl behind the counter had no idea what a martini was (“Do you want 50ml of Gin and 50ml of Vermouth in different glasses?”). The final product wasn’t great, but with a bacon burger and fries, my first meal in Moscow was a success.

After getting into my PJs back in the room, I flipped through the channels. I had CNN, BBC, and believe it or not, Nickelodeon. I watched a few minutes of good ole' SpongeBob Squarepants before calling it a night.

Thursday, May 3rd, 2018

I woke up at 6:00 AM to my alarm. I had slept okay despite being up part of the night with a headache. I was greeted to clear skies outside the window. Having slept, my disposition had improved considerably compared to the previous evening.

After showering, I went down to the buffet to find a decent selection of food that’ll keep me going for the next week. New automatic coffee machines and fresh juice were a nice touch in addition to the meats and cheeses.

Well, I've caught up on everything so far. Time to get ready to see Red Square, some onion domes, GUM, and most important, Lenin. Cross your fingers it's open.

(A few hours later)

Preparations for Victory Day were underway in Red Square.

Well, Lenin’s Mausoleum and the Kremlin Wall Necropolis were locked up tighter than drums when I got to Red Square at about 9:30 AM. I paid my respects from a distance (and behind a chain link fence) as I watched Central Asian workers construct the May 9 Victory Day bleachers and signs.

Red Square and St. Basil's Cathedral – Damn. It sure felt surreal to stand there. It was like the Terracotta Warriors in China - you know they exist, you've seen pictures and maybe a few TV clips, but being there, that’s when you finally understand that it’s real. I took a few moments to soak it all in while thinking back to my lessons on WWII. In November 1941 tens of thousands of soldiers walked over these stones saluting Stalin before marching directly to the front, which by then was only 30 miles away. Then, just a few years later, the ones who survived tossed down all the captured Nazi banners as they marched passed in victory. ‘Victory’ – that’s the word plastering everything in Red Square now leading up to the parade. Just off Red Square is the statue of General Zhukov. Also around Red Square are plenty of Stalin and Lenin impersonators. I witnessed one of the Stalins getting a tongue lashing from a young woman – he was trying to take pictures of her with his cell phone. Good one, Stalin.

At 10:00 AM I went into the courtyard around St. Basils. I had decided before coming not to buy the 500 Ruble ticket to go inside; the most beautiful part is on the outside. I did touch it, though, same with the stones of Red Square and the Kremlin wall.

Just after 10:00 the square exploded with over 1,000 tourists, mostly Chinese. In GUM, tourists were already eating ice cream sold by smiling women behind small kiosks spread throughout the mall. The mall is a trip: beautiful architecture and three floors of the highest end brands: Hugo Boss, Brooks Brothers, Samsung, Sony, Hermes, etc. Even 5,000 miles away from the U.S. I can’t escape ads featuring the Kardashians. The glass ceiling gave the mall a greenhouse effect, making it a bit too hot inside. I guess that’s why the ice cream sells so well.

The centerpiece of GUM is the Gastronom #1 on the first floor. This store is a trip. If you could imagine any food or drink – they have it. The smells change every ten feet, and it's all fresh. From delectable croissants to the freshest sushi, Gastronom #1 caters to tourists and locals alike. I picked up a few goodies and the first beer I will review for the Bohemian. It’s chilling in the mini fridge now. The store also caters to the patriotic crowd, as it sells modern (deluxe) versions of what Soviet soldiers ate during the war.

Feeling a bit tired, and not wanting to crash before my walking tour this evening, I stopped in a chain café for lunch. I had a Caprese salad and a German beer. Nice food, yet it felt a bit off-putting that waitresses don't smile. I guess in Russia smiles are always genuine, and worth more than American smiles. While in the café I recognized that Central Asians have the most menial jobs. This was true at most places I saw today. The food was good, and I left a tip.

Will rest at the hotel until my Communist Walking Tour this evening.

(A Few Hours Later)

Wow. This day feels like a week. Instead of napping, I decided to take off to the Cosmonaut Museum and look around. The titanium-clad monument is impressive, and invokes a sense of wonder that can only be inspired by someone who said: “I did it first.” Russia did do it first, and for all their faults, space is their thing. Having visited space and aeronautic museums in the past, I felt on some level that this monument and the adjoining museum trumped them all. In the museum, I saw a Russian father taking his young children (a boy and a girl) through the exhibits. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but it moved me still. “Here is why you should be proud to be Russian. Not because of bombs or bullets, but that we were the first explorers.” It reminds me of that quote from a Soviet propaganda poster: Soviet man, be proud, for you have opened the road to the stars. A highlight of the trip was seeing the spacesuit Alexi Leonov wore for his first spacewalk along with Michael Collins' Apollo 11 flight suit, which NASA donated. Other notable exhibits included moon dust returned from the moon by a Soviet probe and personal items owned by Yuri Gagarin and Sergei Korolev.

From the museum, I traveled to the headquarters of the FSB where I met up with my guide, Alena, for the Communist Walking Tour. Three others were in the group: a woman from Singapore (her mother was resting at the hotel as they were planning to leave the next day), and a father and daughter from Napa, California, of all places. As our tour started, the road became empty, filled with buses carrying soldiers for that night's Victory Day parade practice.

Our tour took us to the Hotel Metropol, where the last of the Provisional Government resistance held out for six days as the Bolsheviks took over the rest of the city in October 1917. The Bolsheviks had to place cannons near the Bolshoi to blast out the remaining loyalists in the hotel. The Bolshoi itself is a Communist-era monument, as it was there that the USSR was proclaimed in 1922.

We continued to walk the side streets, where there was a strange event: an a Capella competition consisting of different event stations throughout the neighborhood. At one building a woman appeared on a balcony and began to sing. I distinctly recall hearing a Russian version of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, as well.

The highlight of the tour was the Victory Day Parade practice, where I was able to see dozens of tanks and troop transports. This year 12,000 soldiers and 200 armored vehicles will take part. A crowd was lined up behind the wire fence taking pictures with cameras. There was a festival atmosphere, and parents put small children on their shoulders. The ground shook, and the air smelled of diesel fumes. At one point we came to an intersection blocked by a T-72 tank that was mere feet from a 1950s American-themed diner blaring early rock n’ roll. This scene alone would be the dictionary definition of schizophrenia. The ‘cherry on top' was four SS-29 mobile ICBM missile launchers, each of which could deliver 1.5 megatons of destructive force.

The tour ended in Pushkin Square, where Alena pointed out the first McDonald's in Russia, which was still then the Soviet Union. On opening day in 1990, 30,000 people lined up to eat there, and it was the only time in the history of McDonald's that one of their restaurants ran out of food. As the prices were high by Soviet standards, 4-5 people would split a Big Mac for a special occasion. Wedding parties would have their reception in the 1,000-seat dining room. So when the tour ended, I couldn't help myself. Squeezing between hundreds of Muscovites, I ordered nine chicken nuggets, a small fries, and a coke zero. Waiting for my food I saw just about every type of person you could imagine: young professionals, exhausted mothers with children, teenagers, etc. I found a small table and devoured the predictable meal. It was pretty good, historically significant comfort food.

Back in the room, I had to write all of this down before falling asleep. How could I not? Today was a great day, and days like this you have to remember forever.

Friday, May 4th, 2018

Jet lag caught up with me today. I didn’t sleep as much as I wanted, and with sore feet, I tried to explore VDNKh only to find that it was under renovation. I walked back to the subway station and headed to Gorky Park. Though beautiful, my exhaustion made it hard to wander through the series of ponds and lounging areas.

Walking a kilometer to the nearest train station, I headed back toward the hotel, where I bought lunch from a local market before eating it in my room. I'm going to rest for the afternoon before having dumplings for dinner. I hope I can get more sleep tonight.

(A few hours later)

Took a nap and decided to go to the Museum of the Great Patriotic War at 5:00 PM. (The museum stays open till 9:30 PM.) Getting off the metro at Park Pobedy I rode up the longest escalator in the city to travel the 276 feet back to the surface. On the street, commuters were lining up to take their buses home. I entered the Poklonnaya Hill complex to find sprawling grounds and memorials to the Second World War. Workers were getting ready for May 9 by constructing a music stage and facing bleachers. Victory Day was coming up, but very few people were touring the grounds and museum. I approached the 465-foot obelisk, the base of which features a statue of St. George slaying the dragon. The dragon’s base is engraved with swastikas, iron crosses, and broken weapons of war. The obelisk’s sides are engraved with war scenes and the names of cities where the great battles occurred.

The Hall of Sorrows in the Museum of the Great Patriotic War

The museum had fewer than ten visitors including myself. On the bottom floor was the Hall of Remembrance and Sorrow. Down a long corridor, 2.5 million bronze chains hung from the ceiling, many of them dangling crystal ‘tears' to represent the sorrow of those who died. On either side were cases full of books containing names of the war dead. Each case included a flower. At the end of the corridor was a statue of a Soviet woman holding a dead man representing her husband/father/brother/son. Circling the exhibit were diorama rooms that contain life-size murals of famous battles throughout the war: Moscow, Stalingrad, Kursk, Leningrad, and the Berlin. Each room had recreated physical artifacts that blended into the paintings to add a sense of realism and depth. The artists held nothing back: the Leningrad room had an image of a family burying their shrouded infant in a makeshift grave, while a mother carried her dead child in another scene. In the Kursk room, Soviet paratroopers were stabbing German soldiers. In one room a reenactor in a period military uniform described the wartime experience. Outside the dioramas were modern paintings detailing scenes from the war.

On the upper floor was the Hall of Glory rotunda: a statue in the middle is surrounded by columns engraved with the names of more than 11,000 soldiers (including some foreigners) who were awarded Hero of the Soviet Union in WWII. The exhibits on the second floor chronicled the war from beginning to end. One story that stuck out was of Captain Flyorov, who blew up his equipment (and himself) to ensure that the Nazis wouldn’t capture his unit’s Katyusha rocket launcher, one of the few Soviet weapons that had the power to slow down the German advance in 1941. Other highlights included some of General Zhukov’s personal items including the pen he used to sign the German surrender documents in 1945. The tour ended with an overwhelmingly detailed recreation of a bombed-out Berlin apartment which leads to a life-size recreation of Soviet soldiers storming the Reichstag. The exhibit gave visitors the impression that they, too, are part of the experience. The recreated graffiti on the Reichstag included three dates (1760, 1813, and 1945), all times when Russian soldiers occupied Berlin.

Heading out, I went to Lepim I Varim in Prospekt Mira for dinner and had some excellent lamb dumplings. Classics such as “Eight Days a Week,” “Mrs. Robinson,” and “The Wanderer” played in the background while servers wore t-shirts proclaiming Make Pelmeni Great Again. I will definitely go back to try other pelmeni fillings.

Saturday, May 5th, 2018

Got up early, but didn’t feel jet-lagged. Went to find that breakfast was a bit more crowded than the last two days: a group of Irish tourist had descended on Novotel Moscow Centre for the weekend. After having my breakfast, I went back to my room for a bit of net surfing before I left for Monino.

I took off for Yaroslavskaya Railway Station and bought a round-trip ticket to Monino. I boarded the commuter train with just two minutes to spare and took a seat among the other commuters. The train was painfully slow, taking 1hr 20min to reach Monino. There was a bit of entertainment on the trip out, as people would occasionally walk into the car and try to sell all sorts of items: knives, knife sharpeners, socks, and umbrellas. Took me off guard, and it felt a bit uneasy to be sitting three feet from someone waving a knife around on a moving train. Surreal.

Monino was the end of the line, at least for this train. The station was all outdoors beside the small room where one scans their ticket. The steps were concrete with rebar supports. Leaving the station, I took an underground pedestrian walkway where two men were playing the guitar for tips. Walking back up to the surface, I came across a fruit and vegetable stand.

Imagine a Saturday morning in a small town. There are kids riding bikes, mothers pushing their babies in strollers, and families at the playground. These sights were all in Monino, too, but the surrounding apartments were dirty at best, crumbling at worst. Trash was in every ditch, as was the case during my ride out from Moscow. However, it was nice to walk on grass and hear the birds chirp as I walked the one mile to the Central Air Force Museum.

Arriving at the museum, I bought a 250 ruble ($4.50) ticket before starting the tour inside two buildings housing some of the earliest versions of Russian planes. They were nice, but this was not what I had come to see. Walking back outside, I headed down to the outdoor plane exhibition where a lady tore my ticket. My research informed me that only five people work at the museum, and ticket sales and donations support all its operations. This fact is evident in the outdoor museum, as some of the planes need a lot of TLC. Sitting outside during the Russian summers and winters will do that.

Walking among the planes was an unbelievable experience. Some were one of a kind – test aircraft that laid the technological groundwork for future aircraft. Seeing the only Tu-4 in existence was amazing. Also on display were just about every MiG and Sukhoi fighter produced during the Cold War. In a separate hanger were more MiGs, high altitude balloon capsules, and a small Buran shuttle mock-up that was used as a test glider in the mid-1980s – I guess it was remote controlled. The highlight of the hanger was the first plane to fly nonstop from the USSR to the US in 1937. Though not as large as a DC-3, it was big enough to hold sufficient fuel. Next to the aircraft was a picture of the pilot and his family receiving a parade in Red Square after his return. Leaving the hanger, I went to the back lot, where there was an Ilyushin-62 commercial airliner, the Aeroflot livery half washed away by the elements. Also in the back lot were experimental aircraft and a few more fighters. I took the opportunity to touch whatever aircraft were poking beyond the low chain barrier. I was tempted to jump the chain and get close to some of these aircraft, but volunteers were watching from a shack on the edge of the property. There were also some air force soldiers, too, as the property adjoins an active air force base where these planes landed before making the museum their final home. It seemed that every plane I came across had at one time broken one or more speed or altitude records. It reminded me of that old quote: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair…

The main attraction was the Tu-144 (Registration CCCP-77106 – the first production aircraft in the series), “The first supersonic passenger liner in the world” as proclaimed by the information sign. It could carry 150 passengers, climb to 18,000 meters (60,000 feet) and fly 2,500 km/h (1,553 mp/h). Despite being the first and that the Soviets made more Tu-144s than Concordes, the plane was plagued by technical difficulties ranging from a deafening internal cooling system to bathrooms that barely worked. Even the Soviets thought it was so unsafe that it spent most of its operational life as a supersonic mail carrier. But boy was it gorgeous, and since one of its opening days was coming up (Victory Day), the doors were open to air out the old girl before the visitors arrived. Included in the display were pictures of the extensive restoration and groups of children getting to sit inside the immaculate cabin. I donated 1000 rubles ($17) to the restoration donation box, where there were a few $1 bills among the rubles.

Before leaving, I admired the MiG-105, a test aircraft that was the first step in creating a never-built orbital space plane. Its test pilot was Gherman Titov, the second cosmonaut in space. Other planes included a fighter that had seen service in the Afghanistan War, a modern MiG-35 built in 2000, and a Soviet copy of the B-29.

I made the long way back to the station and the even longer ride back to Moscow, where I arrived feeling hungry just after 2 PM. I returned to Lepim I Varim where I tried a new beer paired with some new dumplings. Finished for the day, I spent the rest of the afternoon resting before a light dinner and an early bedtime.

Sunday, May 6th, 2018

Today was ‘museum day,’ and as the Tretyakov Gallery didn't open until 10 AM, I had time for a leisurely breakfast at the buffet and a stroll around the neighborhood surrounding the museum. A chilly, cloudy morning, everyone wore coats. I wandered into an Orthodox church, where men and women were praying before going on with their day. I saw a few priests and watched as people lit candles.

At 9:45 am I lined up with some tour groups who had arrived earlier. Everyone made the slow progression inside when the museum opened. I bought my ticket at an automated kiosk. Yet a bit of drama happened during what would otherwise have been a dull wait in line. The military was making preparations for May 9 just a mile away, which included the firing of artillery. It sounded like gunshots, startling everyone in line before we realized what it was. Despite the language differences (there were many international groups), we all shared a chuckle.

As the gallery had just opened, everyone seemed to bottleneck at the beginning. I passed them, not caring much for the portraiture in the first few rooms. I had only come to see the Ilya Repin paintings, but the audio guide (a bit of a rip off at 500 rubles) helped me appreciate the other pieces that caught my eye.

Ivan the Terrible and His son Ivan on November 16, 1581 moved me to tears. I sat down for a good two minutes and just stared at it. Ivan the Terrible’s eyes, along with the gentle, forgiving expression of his dying son spoke volumes that few other art pieces have been able to do. Repin’s other work was superb. My unexpected favorite painting at the museum was Girl with Peaches by Valentin Serov, who was Repin’s student. There was just something unexplainably beautiful about it. Reading later that it is considered one of the most beautiful Russian paintings of all time came as no surprise.

By noon my brain was full of art, but my stomach was empty. By chance, I found a branch of Varenichnaya No. 1, a theme restaurant that combines the kitsch of a 90's Applebee's, the nostalgia of a 50's diner, and the Soviet Union. The inside was a recreation of a Soviet home in what I would guess would be the late 1970s/early 1980s. Next to my seat were an old Soviet television and portable radio, both of which I fiddled with while waiting for my meal. With my lamb-stuffed pastries, I drank a Siberian Crown non-filtered beer. A few years ago David Duchovny did a commercial for them where he fantasized about what his life would be like if he had grown up Russian. Sorry, David, as your ancestors were fleeing anti-Jewish pogroms, they would have surely died if they had not fled imperial Russia. Also, you sold out for a poor man's Blue Moon.

After lunch, I made a quick stop back at the hotel to drop off souvenirs for my family before heading to the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. Rebuilt in the 1990s at great expense (the Soviets blew up the original in the 1930s after taking all the gold, 70 tons of it, off the onion domes) the cathedral is back to its past glory. An impressive building, it was a shame that pictures were forbidden inside. I went in to find men and women praying at the alters and lighting candles. The inside was as impressive as Notre Dame in Paris.

After leaving the cathedral, I found a nearby café, Miles, where I sipped my second beer of the day, another that will make an appearance in my upcoming Bohemian article. Miles was a very chill place, and I decided to come back the next day for lunch.

My second museum for the day was the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts, THE MUSEUM in Moscow. I had high expectations, and the museum delivered...mostly. Late in the afternoon, the crowd was evenly spread throughout the museum. The Egyptian and Greek antiques were a joy to see, and seeing what the Russians had looted from Berlin during WWII was a treat (While in Berlin in 2016 I had seen a display discussing the very thing – "Sorry we can't show you these items. Russia still has them."). It felt like things came full circle. The museum had a special exhibition on Rembrandt – over 200 paintings by him and his students. This gallery was the most crowded part of the museum, so I didn't linger too long there before heading to see the plaster casts of famous sculptures. Though castings, it was impressive to see life-size replicas of famous pieces, some of which I have seen the originals in the Louvre.

Feeling beat, I headed back to the hotel and called it a day.

Monday, May 7th, 2018

Today was my ‘free' day, and with nothing planned, I decided to take a walking tour of a few places that had piqued my interest in the previous few days. My first stop was Moscow State University, home to the largest ‘Stalin Skyscrapers,' which are a mix of Art Deco and Russian architecture. The university was mostly quiet, and besides the famous building, looked no different than any other collection of buildings. I did come across a statue of Walt Whitman, the base of which was inscribed with a quote discussing how Russians and Americans are alike.

Taking the subway back to city center, I toured the outdoor sculpture exhibits at Fallen Monument Park, a collection of modern pieces and those relocated after the fall of the Soviet Union. Included was the statue of the founder of the NKVD, "Crazy Felix," a few statues of Stalin/Lenin, and a massive metal sculpture of the seal of the Soviet Union inscribed with the phrase "USSR The Stronghold of Peace!"

By this time the early morning clouds had broken, and the weather was turning out to be a blessing: 70 degrees and light winds. I sat on a bench overlooking the Moscow River and monument to Peter the Great, reading my Kindle for a while before heading across the river back to Miles for lunch. On the way I got some great shots of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior: yesterday was too dreary for good exterior shots. Today the gold onion domes were shining brightly. From the bridge, I took some fantastic pictures of the Kremlin, as well.

Lunch at Miles was a ‘Singapore Burger,' a fancy chicken sandwich with a great sweet & sour sauce. I downed another craft beer for my upcoming article before taking the train to the Museum of Soviet Arcade Machines. The museum was everything I had hoped. All the games, produced between 1980-1990, were in working order and using CCCP 15 kopek coins was great. (When I bought my ticket the coins came in a little matchbox which I still have.) The museum seems to be a popular attraction for locals and tourists alike. I witnessed a mother relent to buying her son more tokens. Before leaving, I bought two sets of stickers: drawings of the games. I'll save one to decorate whatever will be my next laptop.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon touring the surrounding area near the Bolshoi and Red Square. The May 9 preparations were in full swing, with massive ‘1941' and ‘1945' displays flanking the statue of General Zhukov. The police were out in full force, as well, as the area had been the sight of anti-Putin protests two days prior. Today was Putin's inauguration, so I guess they weren't taking any chances. However, everything was just so pleasant, a perfect day.

Tuesday, May 8th, 2018

This morning in the hotel lobby they were playing an instrumental cover of "World of Pure Imagination" from Willy Wonka. Foreign hotels always have the strangest soundtracks.

Off to the Kremlin! My ticket vouchers in my messenger bag, I lined up at 9:45 AM to get my tickets for the Armory Chamber, Diamond Fund, and Cathedral Gardens. Buying tickets in advance meant that I was thankfully able to skip (most) of the line and go inside just before 10:00 AM. Although hearing that the Armory Fund didn't open until 10 AM, people were already leaving by the time I entered. I guess they began early today was the only day this week when the Kremlin was open to visitors.

Having my headphones plugged into the audio guide considerably elevated my experience, as I was able to tune out the other tour groups. The audio guide was narrated by Rick Steves himself (I’m 99% sure), and he took me between dozens of displays on the first and second floors of the Armory Chamber. A beautiful building where each room is a different color, I felt as if I was walking in the footsteps of the Tsars as I examined cases full of gold and silver. No pictures were allowed, so I was only able to take notes in my notebook. Here are some observations:

· A censer used at the funeral of Ivan the Terrible’s son (the one he killed)

· Diamond encrusted cradle frame built for the infant children of Alexander I

· Multiple bibles where the covers were encrusted with diamonds and other precious stones

· The Green Hall contained only silver: huge ladles with gem insets that people would pass around drinking wine or mead

· A hall of 18th-century jewelry made in St. Petersburg

· Two crowns that were worn by Pushkin and his bride at their wedding

· Guns with mother of pearl inlay and jewels

· Butts of Turkish guns (gifts to the Tsar) made from ivory

· 16th-century daggers that were gifts from the Iranian Shaw

· Relics of the Northern War where Russia conquered what is now St. Petersburg

· Royal Victorian chain on loan from Queen Elizabeth II

· Faberge eggs – about a dozen of them in all.

· A whole room of gifts from different European monarchs, including gilded nautilus shells that were also in the Green Vault in Dresden

· A 3-tier serving platter where if a servant activated a pump, wine would pour over the food from decorative trumpets lining the center column

· A portion of a 3,000-piece serving set that the French king gifted to Catherine the Great

· A 120-piece porcelain service set that Napoleon gave to the Tsar in 1807. Known as the “Olympic Service”

Downstairs was the ivory throne of Ivan the Terrible along with thrones of other Tsars across from the crows they wore. There was a dual throne for two children who were proclaimed Tsar at the same time. In the back was a small hole where their tutor would instruct them on court etiquette behind a veil.

The carriage room contained over a dozen carriages ranging from the sled that Peter the Great's daughter took from the capital to Moscow in only three days – she used 23 horses to cover the distance in incredible speed. The personal carriage of Catherine the Great was on display, as well as the one that Nicholas II rode during his coronation. Many pieces of clothing were on display as well, including Catherine the Great's coronation and wedding dresses in addition to Peter the Great’s boots and cane.

After the Armory Chamber, I made a quick run to the restroom before heading back upstairs to the Diamond Fund. Though the ticket cost 500 rubles ($9), the diamond fund was only two rooms – about 2,000 square feet in all. However, it was worth the price of admission. In the first room, the central ring of cases contained Russia's biggest gold, silver, and platinum nuggets. The triangle nugget (about 80 pounds) is the second largest gold nugget in the world. Within this display were gold bars cast during the Soviet days that still bear the hammer and sickle. On the outside ring of displays was diamonds – uncut diamonds, jewels, etc. One case had 4,000 carats worth of diamonds in different piles. The largest diamonds had special names. One set was named for cosmonauts, and a black diamond was named ‘Moscow 1980' for the Olympics. On display, as well, was an Order of Victory, the highest military decoration in the Soviet Union. It was awarded only to field commanders who had won a great military campaign. This award, which was made of platinum and contained 16 carats of diamonds, was awarded to foreign generals such as Montgomery and Eisenhower.

In the second room was the royal crown, scepter, and orb. The crown contains over 5,000 diamonds and over 70 large pearls. On top is a giant red gem. The scepter is topped by an Indian diamond that Indian people once believed was an eye of god. It was stunning, and I took a full minute to stand right in front of it and stare. Right next to it was the Shaw Diamond, which had been gifted to the Russians in the 1820s as a form of apology when the Russian ambassador to Persia was murdered. A small portrait of the ambassador sits next to the 70-carat diamond.

The precious metals and gems were an overwhelming experience, and I felt a bit dazed as I began to tour the Kremlin Gardens. The flowers were in full bloom, and with the tourist groups sticking close together, the gardens felt surprisingly empty as I walked among the old churches and flower beds. It was another lovely day in Moscow. From the Kremlin, I saw GUM and St. Basils. For most of the year it's possible to walk right into Red Square from the Kremlin – but with Victory Day tomorrow, that's not possible. In the restricted zones I saw a fleet of Audi sedans, all of which had blacked out windows. It felt odd walking around – it was like taking a stroll through the White House lawn with thousands of other people. Putin was around here somewhere, but the Russians have done an excellent job hiding all their security measures besides a few strategically placed guards with assault rifles.

After some comfort food at McDonald's, I returned to the hotel for afternoon rest (and journal writing) before my bar tour this evening. While writing I sipped my 7th beer of the trip – “Boro. Da.” Ale. Not bad. Malty and sweet. Impressive for a beer that clocks in at 7% ABV.

(A Few Hours Later)

At 7 PM I met up with my guide, Anna, along with two tourists from Austria from the ‘More than Just Spirits' tour. That evening we went to three bars. The first had a sweet, fruity beer named after revolutionary Mikhail Bakunin. The second bar was a bar/restaurant that offered many different classic Russian dishes that we paired with a malty beer. The first was a salted and dried fish – a big hit of Russian men. The roe (caviar) tasted like pure salt but the flesh had a nice ‘fish jerky' taste. The second snack was pickled fish skewered between rye bread and cold potato. It tasted amazing.

The third bar was another restaurant/bar combo named ‘Intelligence,’ (Razvedka Bar) as in KGB-type intelligence. It was an appropriate name considering it's only a block away from the former KGB/current FSB building. At the entrance, the greeter wore a KGB uniform, and the door handles were gilded AK-47s. There we had a shot of infused liquor paired with smoked, fried cheese. Enjoying our snack, I admired all the wacky military crap on the walls from the fake guns to uniforms, military medals, and spy equipment. The tasting went a bit overboard as the waiter brought over a free ground: vodka and a splash of Tabasco floating on top of syrupy grenadine. Tasted like cough syrup. At the bar, I asked Anna how had her life changed after the currency devaluation in 2014 (the ruble lost half its value overnight due to sanctions). For her, she had to put off upgrades to her condo and an overseas trip. Other people, for the first year or so, had to buy less food to makes ends meet. Her point was basically, "The main things Russia makes are natural gas, heavy machinery, and fighter jets, and we import just about everything else. People in Moscow like foreign luxury items. We had to cut back."

Having drunk just a bit too much, I went to the bathroom to find that the owners had put 15 (hopefully fake) blinking security cameras above the toilet. Nice one, guys.

Wednesday, May 9th, 2018

Victory Day! I woke up with a hangover from the night before, and while downing a painkiller and drinking coffee, I turned on the TV to find that every Russian channel featured parade coverage from Moscow or another one of the ‘hero cities' from WWII. On one channel, a reporter interviewed a female veteran on a park bench. On another channel, a bright-eyed female reporter interviewed a soldier from inside a tank. The soldier poured her some army coffee, and it seemed that she was just so happy to be there. I ate my last hotel breakfast before going out to claim my spot for the Victory Day festivities. Standing on the Patriarshy Bridge adjacent to the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, I had an amazing view of the Kremlin. Tied to my messenger bag was a Ribbon of St. George. About half of everyone in attendance wore the ribbon, the same colors of the ribbon presented to Soviet soldiers who had fought in the war. ‘When in Rome,’ I figured. Many people wore old soldier's caps, while others held up banners of relatives who had died in the war or who had passed away in recent years. I thought it was a very personal, respectful way to honor their relatives' memory.

At 10 AM faint noises came from the direction of Red Square, likely speeches given by Putin and other government officials. A few minutes later, we heard the 12,000 attending soldiers roar in unison. Then, artillery lining the Moscow River went off ten times, creating a vast plume of smoke. A minute later the air smelled of gunpowder. For the next 30 minutes, not much happened. Then, the flyovers began. First was the helicopters, followed by conventional and supersonic bomber aircraft. Different fighter jets flew in formations of between 3-10 aircraft. They were remarkably quiet, and only traveling at 250-300 miles per hour. It was the one time I wished I had a telephoto zoom lens.

Finally, six jets flew side by side and unleashed the colors of the Russian flag: white, blue, and red. Everyone clapped at the beautiful sight. The official festivities were over. Walking to the other side of the cathedral, I spotted that the police had blocked off the road, turning it into a pedestrian thoroughfare. On massive jumbotrons, people watched the completion of official ceremonies in Red Square. Putin was shaking the hands of generals and veterans while the people on the street around me cheered him.

On the streets were dozens of veterans, as well. Many of the veterans were not old enough to have fought in WWII, but Victory Day was also an occasion where they could put their service on display. While some wore their entire military uniform, what struck me was seeing a man (65ish) and his adult daughter. He was wearing a suit, but on right lapel were his pilot wings. On his left lapel was his Hero of the Soviet Union medal. One of the highest Soviet military awards, those who earned it still receive special privileges in retired life such as state-sponsored vacations and free transportation.

Wanting to squeeze a little more culture into my trip, I returned to the Pushkin Museum just up the street and went in their collection of 19th/20th Century European & American Artists. The museum had just opened, and everyone still enjoying the festival-like atmosphere outside, I had the museum nearly all to myself. The highlight of the experience was standing in a room alone with Van Gogh’s The Red Vineyard at Arles, the only painting Van Gogh sold in his lifetime. The whole experience felt surreal - I was walking through my private art gallery.

After an hour inside the museum, I traveled to the fashionable Tverskoy District to eat my final pelmeni lunch at the original Lepim I Varim. The district was ‘party city' with thousands of revelers from all throughout the country enjoying the cafes, restaurants, and shops. Soldiers guarded major intersections, and some streets were blocked off. It seemed that every block also had a band performing. From jazz and rock to an all-brass band playing "Pretty Woman," the road was full of music. My final dumping meal (pelmeni stuffed with chicken and parmesan cheese) was delicious paired with a dark ale.

Mid-afternoon, I returned to one of my favorite spots, the space memorial, to find even more Victory Day celebrations. The city had set up a large stage where actors were performing a scene from the war. From what I could tell, two Russian soldiers were in a stand-off against a German soldier. Their rapidly changing tones suggested that any minute the bullets would start flying. Just when it seemed that cooler heads prevailed, a plane dropped a bomb, killing all of them. The ‘bodies’ still on the stage, a woman in a white dress appeared and sung a sad song.

Taking one final look at the monument, I returned to the hotel, where I purchased a small snack for dinner and began packing. The next day would be along day of travel, and I needed my rest.

Writing these final words back in Tennessee, where I’ll be with my folks until the 15th. The last ten days have been one of the best ‘field trips' of my entire life. Good food, culture, weather, etc.

I wonder what future short story(ies) this experience will inspire.

Thomas Broderick - Founder