A road trip in the Soviet Union in 1987 is pretty different from Russia today, but you can still easily recognize the old Soviet Union if you travel now. Here is some travel nostalgia about our first road trip.
Planning was necessary
Elin, my future wife, had got a job as an au-pair for an employee at the Norwegian embassy in Moscow. Elin studied Russian, and this was the easiest way to get a permit to stay in the Soviet Union to learn more of the language. Since she had access to the embassy, it was also relatively easy to invite friends over. An invitation was absolutely necessary to get a visa, and not so easy to get if you did not have contacts. So she invited us three friends over, and we found out that we would take the trip by car and stay at campsites along the way.
To achieve this, we had to plan the route in detail, with each overnight stay and date, and then send this together with a visa application to the Soviet consulate in Oslo. After a while we got an OK, and were able to pick up visas by attending the consulate in person. We planned the trips as a round trip; ferry from Stockholm to Helsinki, and first stop Leningrad where we were to meet Elin, who took a train from Moscow. Together we were to drive to Moscow before returning home via Poland.
Mercedes was the perfect car
I had a 1979 model Mercedes 200 (W123) that we were going to drive. An extremely solid car, perhaps the best that has come from Stuttgart, and very comfortable for a long trip. The car was black, and it would eventually prove to be an advantage.
Oslo – Stockholm – Stena Line went smoothly, and after an evening in Helsinki we came to the border crossing into the Soviet Union. Not without butterflies in our stomachs we drove in among tall barbed wire fences and soldiers with dogs and automatic weapons. The check was formal and thorough, car and luggage were turned upside down. But we had no drugs, bibles or pornography, so we got our stamps and were sent on with a wish for a good trip. This with bibles was no joke, at that time there was bible smuggling into the country and you would be arrested for this.
The road to Leningrad was of decent quality, wide concrete pavement that said dunk every time we passed a joint. There was almost no traffic, only an occasional truck. At regular intervals we passed guards in tall towers. They checked the car number against a list of today’s expected passes. The system must have worked well, we were never stopped for checking.
We had agreed to meet Elin at Hotel Jewropeiskaja, Hotel Europa, right by Nevski prospekt in the center of Leningrad, which we found something delayed. Not so many mobile phones and GPS at the time, but with little traffic it was easy to navigate by map.
Most things are possible
Together we then drove to the campsite where we had booked two cabins. Two stout ladies is about to check us in when one stunned says in Russian; you should only be three people, but now you are four. Then Elin remembers, she had forgotten to apply for a domestic visa to travel to Leningrad. You had to have that at the time, so Elin was highly illegal in Leningrad. There was some arguing back and forth before Russian pragmatism solved the situation. We enter three names in the protocol and payed for three people, but we are given four towels. Such was the Soviet Union at the time. Nothing was initially possible, but after a bit of arguing it became possible The alternative for the ladies would be to call the police, but then there had been a lot of extra paperwork.
Sightseeing in Leningrad
The cabins were some triangular plywood constructions that smelled of moist, but decent enough. The next day was a sightseeing tour with the Hermitage and Isak Cathedral as the highlights. And a visit to the massive hotel Pribaltiyskaya with the, among foreigners, famous Heineken bar. The Soviets built a number of huge Intourist hotels where mostly Westerners were allowed in. They were brutalist concrete buildings with over a thousand rooms. Inside, these hotels were characterized by infinitely long corridors with dusty carpets and rooms on each side. At the end of the corridor sat an old lady in front of a small table. Her task was to hand out toilet paper. The paper was spun into small portion packs that lay neatly stacked on the table. She also kept a close eye on who came and went …
After a few days in Leningrad, we continued to the next stop, Novgorod, one of the oldest cities in the Soviet Union founded by Swedish Vikings. Again we were going to spend the night at the campsite. The first thing that meets us when we turn into the campsite is the sight of two men with their heads down in the rear of a Tatra. This is a strange Czech car with a rear-mounted, air-cooled V8 engine. For a car enthusiast, this is truly a rarity. The men had dismantled most of the engine there at the campsite. Eastern European cars were at that time not known to be one of the most reliable.
The cabins we were assigned were poorly insulated aluminum boxes that stood on a base of steel. Inner parts of Russia can get very hot in the summer, the temperature was well over 30 centigrade, so it was scorching hot inside the cabins. The chassis they were standing on was very wobbly, and when we two young couples enjoyed ourselves a little in the evening, the whole structure creaked and rocked a lot.
Tatra
Worlds worst lavatory?
And the toilet building! I have traveled in many countries with poor sanitation, but this is the worst I have seen. Inside the toilet building human remains were smeared on the walls and the toilets were clogged. This fermented well at 30 centigrade, and the smell was thereafter. And it was insane with mosquitoes in there, so when we had to go for a poop it was better to go into the woods. Most people must have thought so because the forest was flooded with dung and paper so you had to guard your steps carefully.
Since we were traveling with a Russian-speaking person, it was easy to talk to the other campers, and they were very curious about us. Hardly many westerners who were on a camping trip around here. Two guys invited us to vodka tasting in the evening, and it was a lively fraternization. Russians are not known for just tasting when they drink vodka, and of course we could not be worse, so when the morning dawned we had a problem. We had to follow the schedule and drive on. And we were going to drive a long way, all the way to Moscow, so we could not wait too long. So the question was, who was most able to drive. Norway at this time had a blood alcohol limit of 0.5, but in the Soviet Union it was 0.0. Very doubtful if any of us were near it. We waited as long as we dared, and although it was not my turn to drive, but since it was my car, I sat behind the wheel. I drove carefully on the car-free streets through the outskirts of Novgorod. Suddenly, in the mirror I see a police car behind us, a gray and blue Volga. It follows us, and I am more or less paralyzed and follow it intensely in the mirror. So intense that I do not see that the light has changed to red at the intersection we approach, and I run over. No! I think, now it’s done. But then the incredible happens. The police car stops at the red light, and that’s the last we see of it.
Here it is probably the black Mercedes that has saved us. The communist party VIP’s at that time drove exclusively black Volgas, or Zil if they were high on straw. They did not like to be harassed by a random militiaman. The police have probably thought, black car, even a Mercedes, which so obviously ignores a red light. Here it is best to lie low and stay away so as not to get into trouble. The fear of the authorities was in the backbone of the Russians at the time. And probably a little today too.
After this, the routines for driving and alcohol consumption were significantly tightened.
Go for the soup and don’t tip
On the way to Moscow we took off the main road at noon and found a large hotel located in a kind of leisure area. The dining room was huge and we were the only guests. Eventually a lady comes with a menu. Russian waiters are often a bit sullen by nature, and the lady in her 30s was no exception. The menu was impressively long, mostly something with kapusta, cabbage. We studied the menu carefully with Elin as translator. Unfortunately they did not have any of what was written there, so instead we asked what they had. It was one dish, meat and cabbage, soup as an appetizer and mushroom stew. You can say a lot about Russian cuisine, but they are good on soup. A borsch or solyanka will always be good. This was no exception, and the stew with wild mushrooms was heavenly. In Russia there was no shortage of drinks, and 500ml of vodka and a bottle of champagne were included.
Exchanging rubles at this time could be done in two ways. Inside the bank, or outside the bank. If you changed outside you got 10 times as much as inside. So I’m afraid we fell for this temptation. This meant that we had a lot of rubles, but very little to spend them on. In the shops there was not much to find, except in those where you paid with dollars, and they were as expensive as at home. In any case, this led to us being very generous with tips, and that in a country where tips were not common. We gave the waiter a nice pile, probably some daily wages. She looked at the money angrily and mumbled something about idiots. In retrospect, I see that this was quite arrogant, and we moderated strongly after this. Except once in Moscow.
Queuing
When Russians were out in the city they always had an empty shopping bag with them. And if you saw a queue, you lined up in it. What to find at the end of the queue you did not necessarily know, but since it was a queue it had to be a rare item. If you did not need it, you bought it anyway because it could be used to exchange with something else. Elin had obtained several boxes of Havana cigars this way. So when we saw a queue, we lined up excitedly. At the end of this queue was champagne. And not ordinary champagne, but Golden, a champagne that was supposed to be one of the best to find. And Russian champagne is basically very good. We ended up buying 30 bottles, they did not cost much for us. But I do not forget the look the Russians sent us when we carried out the 30 bottles. They could hardly afford more than one or two. I get embarrassed when I think about this for now, and I hope I have become better at treading carefully in foreign cultures. We drank the champagne, except for a few bottles that came all the way to Norway.
Another experience I have gained is that you may want to limit your champagne intake when traveling. I must admit that I should have seen more of Moscow. But when you are young and in love, and the champagne is cheap and good, you may prioritize wrong.
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, popular for wedding photos.
VIP entrance to the Kremlin
At least we got to see Red Square and Vasily Cathedral. Not entirely without drama though. We lived in Elin’s apartment right on the outskirts of the city center, and drove down to the Kremlin to park right by the Red Square. Moscow has wide avenues, and at that time very few cars so it was very easy to get around with a car. But I was taking a wrong turn somewhere and suddenly we were about to drive into the Kremlin VIP entrance. The armed guards made us aware of the fade in a polite, but firm way. Elin preferred not to announce that she spoke Russian, but said that the guard had asked me to park as soon as possible and rather use my legs, in a slightly ironic way. So we did.
As mentioned, Elin’s job, not in the embassy, but for someone who worked in the embassy meant a number of benefits. The fact that she did not work in the embassy was important, because if she was, she could not have contact with ordinary Russians. It was strictly forbidden for embassy employees if it was not cleared in advance. But to learn Russian you had to talk to Russians. Although the Soviet Union at this time was a thoroughly regulated country with very clear rules for what was allowed and what was not allowed, there was also a rich underground environment of people who practiced music and culture. Elin had become acquainted with an elderly lady who was a publicly recognized ceramic artist. We were invited to dinner at her house where we also met the husband and daughter. The daughter was also an artist, but not on the list of authorized artists, so she lived on a subsistence minimum. The mother, on the other hand, was well paid for her art and had been given a large apartment on the outskirts of Moscow. They also had a son who had moved out of the Soviet Union. This was possible, but only if you married a foreigner. In the artist community there were many who wanted to emigrate, and Elin also received several offers to get married. The husband was an engineer and had held a high position. But as a result of that his son emigrated he was demoted to the job and only got a minor position. So there were some side effects of a family member not behaving according to the book.
We were treated to the best and also bought some pictures of the daughter. Not only to support her financially, they were good too. By the way, I received a number of letters from my daughter after I got home, so I think she also wanted to emigrate.
Taganka bar
By virtue of her affiliation with the embassy, it was easy for Elin to pick up the phone and call Taganka bar, Vladimir Vysotsky’s old favorite. Vysotsky was a much-loved poet and singer who sang about the Russian soul. And Taganka bar was a very popular restaurant with a long waiting list. But when you make a call and say it’s from the Norwegian embassy, we would like to reserve a table for tonight, then that will be instantly solved. Taganka bar was an exotic place. Rustically decorated, with live hens strutting around the tables and stagger on the ceiling beams. I do not remember they spoiled our food, sitting there over the table, but it can not be ruled out.
Sacred atmosphere in Zagorsk
Another thing Elin arranged was a visa to Zagorsk, now Sergiev Posad, after the name was changed after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Zagorsk is one of the most important Orthodox sites in Russia, with perhaps the most beautiful monastery in the country. The communists tried to wipe out the church, but there still was religious activities.
The town is only a couple of hours drive from Moscow. On the way there, we experienced that the control system works. We were stopped at a checkpoint and a brusque policeman asked what we were doing there. We were not on the list of passing cars. But the visas we had received solved the case and we could drive on.
I’m not religious myself, but I must admit there is something sacred about worship. Catholics, and especially Orthodox, strike an emotional chord. Inside the beautiful church with onion domes it was gathered for mass. Some old women with incense burners stood and sang below the iconostasis in the dimly lit little church. Very atmospheric. They crossed themselves with 3 fingers. This is very important in the Orthodox Church. If you cross yourself with just two fingers, you belong to the old believers. At the great schism of the 17th century, it was decided that one should cross oneself with three fingers. The two fingers was for the father and the son, but then the Holy Ghost was also added. Many could not accept this, and the split was a fact. As is often the case with religion, this led to bloodshed, and the old believers were eventually expelled from Russia. Many settled in the Caucasus, where some still live in isolated villages.
«Khorosho machina»
After a week in Moscow we had to leave Elin, and the rest of us drove in the direction of Warsaw with a stop in Smolensk along the way. Now that we no longer had an interpreter, the trip behaved differently and we did not have much contact with Russians. But we had picked up some Russian. Like when we were stopped by a policeman at a guard post along the country road. We were a little unsure of what he wanted, but reassured when he said “khorosho machina”, nice car. He wanted to see the engine, and after studying it for a while, he politely waved us on. The Mercedes had always attracted attention, and several times when we parked and got back to the car, a group of people stood around and respectfully studied it. Back home it was just a slightly tired old Mercedes that had done many miles as a taxi before I bought it.
Cheap gasoline
We had to fill up a lot of petrol along the way, and it was ridiculously cheap, around 10 cent a liter. Today it costs about half a Euro, so Russia is still a reasonable country for a road trip. But refueling was not the easiest thing to do. There were often long queues, except for a few pumps. Possibly they were reserved for the authorities. In any case, no one protested if we filled there. When you filled up you had to pay first. So after a qualified guess as to how many liters you needed you stuck the money into a hole in the wall. Deep in there you could sense an old lady receive the money, and you could then fill it up.
A mysterious gold ring
The border crossing into Poland went smoothly. We were a little nervous about the champagne, but it was of no interest to the customs officer. There was more fuss with a thick gold ring that suddenly appeared. Where it came from no one knew, and the origin is still unknown. Best theory is that it must have fallen off the finger of a Russian who helped us pack in Moscow. It was strictly forbidden to bring gold out, but after some discussion it we could take it with us.
Russia of today is quite different from Soviet times. But still, much is the same. The people are the same, and when you get a little closer to them, Russians are very friendly, helpful and hospitable. It is a clear advantage to know the language, but English skills are much better now than 30 years ago.
Also read about a trip we drove in 2017, from Leningrad to Murmansk, through Karelia. Here you will also find practical tips on visas and border crossings. See Russia – Karelia
And a trip to the old Soviet republics of Georgia and Armenia, including ferry from Ukraine to Georgia.
Georgia – Caukasus
Ferry over the Black Sea. A bureaucratic odyssey.
Armenia
