Midnight in Moscow (twice)

Actually I’d booked BMI and had not chosen the cheaper Transaero option because I’d, wrongly, presumed that it was a Russian low-cost airline and the idea of a Russian Ryanair didn’t appeal. It was a code share and fortunately I’d checked in online because the queues at check-in we’re long and slow. I had time for a pleasant consultation with an Indian lady pharmacist as I bought extra ibuprofen for my tendonitis and a coffee at Costa. We boarded slowly but smoothly and then waited before we took off an hour late.

In a previous life I lived in Jakarta and, more often than I liked, travelled Garuda, the national airline off Indonesia. In those days its service was poor and in flight catering threadbare. Despite the fact that Transaero is a substantial airline with a global network and partnerships with the likes of BMI it somehow flies the flag for the Garuda of old. There was no beer on the drinks trolley and I’d have to wait until my meal for wine. It was a choice between apple juice, cola and whisky or brandy. The red wine with the meal when it came was a very drinkable Merlot but a request for a second was met with the news that there was no more. And the food reminded me how bad airline food can be. Talk about rubber chicken!

Immigration at Moscow was amazing. I’d applied for my visa with trepidation: the process has been outsourced and I was sure that some functionary would find something in my record of 10 years travel, employment history and education to enable him or her to refuse me. However I used the excellent ASLA visa service in Huntingdon which, correctly, advised me that it would not be a problem and it wasn’t. So there I was at Moscow immigration where they no longer require landing cards. The queue moved quickly, the officer took my passport, scanned the visa and printed out a landing card. All done in a couple of minutes and I was through and ready for 2 days in Moscow. Maybe Stansted could learn a little from Moscow about how to manage immigration.

I stayed at the Marco Polo hotel which has more stories to tell than I’ve got space to fill. It started life at the beginning of the 20th century being designed and built by the Brits to house VIP visitors and the governesses who supported the British diplomatic corps in those days. Later it was used as a hotel first for soviet intellectuals and then for party bigwigs. Now it’s a real hotel, rated one of the best boutique hotels in Moscow and very nice it is too: easy check in, big room, free wi-fi and a decent breakfast with fresh fruit and not totally bad croissants. There was even an adaptor to borrow so that I could charge the various bits of IT equipment without which it’s impossible to travel these days.

The hotel has a 24 hour restaurant which reminded me where I was. The only bottled beer was Budweiser (making love on the beach?) and there was no red wine. However there was a very drinkable Russian draft which went down well with a perfectly acceptable pasta al salmone.

Over my two days I got to see Russia about 8 years after my first visit. It’s moved on and given that it’s only 20 years since the big change what you see now is remarkable. The roads are dominated by foreign cars, there are new apartment blocks which contrast with the old and would not look out-of-place in the west and there’s a high-rise office development (Moscow City) to rival the City and la Defense. But the street scene still looks somehow soviet. I think it’s the cyrillic character set which doesn’t seem to evolve. The fonts don’t seem to have changed and it looks like the default is ‘upper case and bold’. It doesn’t shout as it would in a western script but it’s a sort of in your face authoritarian voice.

I had 3 meals out. My travel usually takes me to Spain so there’s a high standard for Moscow to match and it didn’t. Lunch number 1 was a Japanese and unexciting. Dinner was Ukrainian which was, well, Ukrainian: heavy and no chance of a glass of Georgian wine to wash it down. Actually lunch number 2 wasn’t bad. We sat outside on the terrace at the yacht club by the river and I enjoyed an excellent dorada. It had come a long way but it was fresh. The only negative was no Russian beer but at least the alternative was Czech. At the end of the meal I enjoyed one of the benefits of globalisation: an espresso. The ubiquitous machine was in service and good beans were clearly being used. A good end.

My journey back started well. An easy ride through immigration (why do we call it immigration when it’s outbound not inbound?) and then the lady let me into the Transaero business class lounge on the strength of an 8-year-old Star Alliance gold card. And this time we were on BMI: a gin and tonic from the drinks trolley, excellent sausage and mash with a small bottle of Merlot (and a second which I declined), and a movie!

Then it was into Heathrow a tad late because of a head wind and then, bravo Heathrow, a 20 minute wait for steps to get off the plane. Crowds at immigration but not a big queue at the epassport machine: why don’t they have more? And my taxi was there ready; smooth ride and home in time for supper.

Russia only changed 20 years ago. Before that it wasn’t a place you visited. Or if you did you experienced a country of incredible regimentation and control, and scarcity and absence of choice. And you had to take your own plug otherwise you couldn’t have a bath. It has changed and has changed more in 20 years than western Europe has in the best part of a thousand. There’s lots wrong with it but given where it’s come from and the pace of change it’s experienced its hardly surprising. The genie is out of the bottle and will not go back in. Question is can Russia fashion a western style liberal democracy despite never having experienced one before?