From Smolensk to Moscow and first real taste of the USSR

Smolensk cathedral

In the morning we visit the Smolensk cathedral, one of the oldest in Russia. As we will find out, one of the relatively few to be in good condition and open to the faithful as well as to visitors.

As we approach on foot from a nearby parking lot, an old lady, head covered in a black scarf, is crawling on the floor. Must be some kind of penance to punish her body for one's sins. It is hard to imagine what this fragile god-fearing woman could possibly have done in the recent past to deserve this but here she is. A young kid, perhaps ten years-old, briskly walks by her on his way.  The contrast could not be starker.

Boy and lady go to church

Once inside, another old woman has no sins to repent for and instead screams at me for taking some pictures although, unlike in so many other places we'll visit in the USSR, here it is not forbidden to take photographs.

We then move on to Moscow and reach our camping by the afternoon. It rains hard and it is cold.

Once settled in our bungalows we drive to the Red Square, in the center of the capital. At a first glance, the Square and the Kremlin are by far the main attraction of the city, which is pretty gloomy, oppressively grey and characterless.

After a brief walk around we visit the GUM, the most famous (or infamous?) shopping mall in the USSR. Lots of shops in a decrepit old structure that must have seen grander days, but hardly anything to buy. Much worse than comparable malls in Warsaw like Centrum, and that is saying something.

One guy named Igor, about our age, introduces himself to us and asks Andrew to sell him the jeans he is wearing. Andrew can't do that without risking arrest for indecent exposure, but I happen to have some extra pairs of jeans in the car and sell three pairs to him for 350 rubles, quite a considerable sum of money, but money can't buy much in this country. Prices are low, but unless you have connections, preferably in the Communist Party, you can't buy anything with it, with a few exceptions that I'll write about in later.

Igor is very friendly and we spend a few hours walking around Red Square together. The Saint Basil cathedral stands proudly at the edge of the square

Several people stop us long the way and ask for chewing gum, but we don't have any. Lots of policemen all over the place. At one point they stop us and, it seems, almost everyone else for no real reason. They ask a few general questions about what we are doing, where we come from etc. and then let us go.

Kremlin with Lenin mausoleum

Igor and us

Saint Basil cathedral

The Kremlin wall

Minsk to Smolensk, Afghanistan, Bulgarian wine and the Olympics

After a leisurely breakfast we get moving at 11:00 o'clock. We drive around downtown Minsk, and find it rather forgettable. The high points of the tour are a couple of huge monuments to Lenin and to victory in WW II. Good weather tough, warm and sunny.

One policeman stops me because I am trying to make a right turn from the middle lane of a wide boulevard. I did signal my intention to turn (I think I did) but anyway I was very careful and waited for the road to be clear before turning. He is initially a bit brusque but we start speaking Polish and it all ends with big smiles and a pat in the back. Again, I think he was just curious to meet funny-looking foreigners in a yellow beetle...

We hit the road again in the direction of Smolensk after a quick lunch, and it start raining heavily.

Once in Smolensk we are very warmly greeted by a group of students who run the camping site where we will spend the night. Banter and casual talk accompanied by Bulgarian wine drag on for several hours.

Only a couple of times the discussion is a bit tense, when we touch Afghanistan (they insist Soviet forces are providing brotherly help to socialists threatened by imperialism, pure party line) and the Olympics, (they insist sport and politics should be kept separate, and here they have a point).

They also believe that China (Moscow's Communist rival) got a bloody nose in Vietnam (Russia's Communist friend) last year when it launched its "punitive" campaign following the Vietnamese invasion of Cambodia. Here the truth is somewhat more blurred, and lots of people on both sides died for no reason when the Chinese pulled back.

The point I take away from this conversation is that the young people we have met actually still believe in Communism and in the leading role of the USSR, in one way or another. Not ONE Pole we met does.

Off to the USSR

Early rise today, it's going to be a long one. Just to get started on an upbeat note, we take a cold shower, as there is no hot water in the dorm. Andrew and I load Giallina and pick up the ladies at their dorm. Then the four of us drive to Borzena's for a hearty breakfast. We are going to miss her and her family for the next few weeks. After that we fill up with some black market gas and off we go, to the east.

On the road to the USSR

We reach and cross the Polish border at Terespol very easily, then slowly drive over the Bug river and meet the Soviet border guards. Here things take a long time. We see some French tourists who have just finished to have themselves and their car inspected. They are coming out of a small building next to the parking area where we stopped. Ann and I try to ask a few questions, but we are not allowed to talk to them. After a few minutes we see them again getting ready and do talk to them more extensively, asking questions like... "did they search you everywhere?" and get a nod in response, they also say they had even their spare tire taken apart and inspected!

As we wait for our turn to be inspected, Andrew and I play American football in the parking area. Some Soviet soldiers look at us slightly bewildered but say nothing. I guess they are more curious about a game that is not played in their country than interested in showing authority. And I imagine there is no regulation that forbids playing American football in front of border crossing stations.

When our time comes, Giallina is thoroughly inspected, they even take apart the air filter (Giallina is an original VW model, with air-cooled engine). They open everything, look everywhere. But they put everything back in its original place at the end. In the meantime, I chat a bit with an officer who is friendlier than the others. He even lets me try his military hat! It's too small for me. I'd like to buy one, will try to exchange some of the stockings we have with us. We speak Polish; my Polish is at a simple conversational level after four months of practice, and I wonder how he learned his. Maybe he lives near the border and is in frequent contact with Polish traders, maybe he comes from a family that used to be Polish, as the border was more than one hundred kilometers to the East.

After all the checks are done, we meet with a guy from Intourist who gives us all kinds of detailed instructions about our trip. All hotels and camping sites are pre-booked, we are not allowed to seek accommodation elsewhere. We are to stay on the direct road between all the cities we visit, though we are allowed to drive around at will within each city.

Finally we are free to go and hit to road in Belorussia, or the White Russian Soviet Republic, headed for the capital, Minsk. Smooth driving, but not for long. After a few kilometers a couple of policemen stop us for speeding. I was driving at 90km, which seemed reasonable on this highway, but apparently the speed limit (not shown on any sign that we could see along the way) is 60. Or so they say. They look at our papers and let us go. I get the impression that they were just curious about this bright yellow foreign car, of which they must not see many. In fact we do not see any other tourist car all day. It's only a few months after the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan has frozen contacts between East and West in Europe and tourism must have suffered accordingly.

After about 100 km the two-lane highway is merged into one lane in each direction and a bit later it is completely interrupted because of some road work. Interesting to note that it is mostly (only?) women who seem to do the hard work with spades and tar

Soviet road workers

Because of the road works, we MUST leave the highway that had been assigned to us for a side road, thus contravening the instructions we have just received, but we have no choice. And to make matters worse, we don't know where to go: there are no road signs, in any language, about a detour to go back to the highway after the road works interruption. We are stuck and have no idea where to go, the memory of our arrest in the Warsaw Pact military base in Czechoslovakia is still quite vivid in our minds. It starts raining quite hard.

Luckily, after a short while we manage to stop a truck and the driver points us to a secondary road that leads us to Minsk. We need fuel, but several gas stations along the way are "under construction". We are forced to leave the secondary road and wanter into a small village where we finally can fill up our tank.

We finally reach our camping by early evening and get settled into our two bungalows. Simple but adequate for the night. Quiet dinner and we go to bed quite early, it's been a long day.

Bureaucracy and floor lamp for a wedding

Full day dedicated to jumping over bureaucratic hurdles. Pick up passports, fill in forms... We considered buying rubles on the black market, the savings are huge. We actually bought them, but then changed our mind and decided the risks were not worth the gain. Because tomorrow is our big day to travel to the USSR and we don't want to spoil it with problems at customs before we even set foot in the country.

Dinner is at Borzena's, of course.

We later go and see Marian, who will ship my "old" atlas and the crystal to Italy, with a little tip to the customs officer my "antique" should make it through without problems (it will).

Late at night, back in the dorm, we get a visit by Marta, the lady who had tried to marry either me or Andrew a couple of months ago (see posts or 1, 3, 24 March, 1 April). She says she got engaged and is getting married soon. She does not say with whom. We give her the floor lamp we bought here as a wedding gift. We are leaving soon and won't need it any more. She readily accepts and appreciates, they have to furnish a house now!

Air ticket no, train ticket yes

Back in Warsaw Ann and Cathy want to buy airplane tickets to go to Krakow. Cathy has not been there and Ann wants to show the beautiful city to her. But to buy an airplane ticket in Poland, even a domestic flight ticket, you need a passport. Or at least foreigners need a passport. However we don't have our passports as they are currently with the police to extend, yet one more time, our visas. So no tickets. We drive to the railway station, where they can buy a train ticket to Krakow, for which you don't need a passport. Oh well, they'll enjoy the landscape more.

To celebrate their accomplishment we go all together to the Winiarna, on the Rynek Starego Miasta, the central market square of the capital. The choice of wines is average but prices, for us, are very low even for imported Italian and French wines.

An ice cream at the Victoria hotel concludes the morning. A couple of drunkards are hanging out by the hotel gate and they offer to wash our car while we lick our ice creams, whch we readily accept. Giallina badly needs a good clean after the adventure in Mazuria.

Ice cream leads to tea at Borzena's. Her mother insists that we have lunch there but we don't want to take advantage one more time of their hospitality, which we know costs them very dear. This time, somehow, we are able to extricate ourselves. Back home, easy afternoon of rest.

Dinner with Andrew and Romek at the Baziliszek restaurant. These dinners at expensive (for the locals) restaurants have become so routine that I have almost completely ceased feeling ashamed about it. I felt even a bit guilty in the beginning, but that went away quickly.

Getting lost in the Mazurian region

Giallina in the Mazurian forest

After breakfast we get rolling for Augustow. We arrive for lunch and eat at a totally non descript place for peanuts, nothing to write here about but it's filling and reasonably tasty. We decide not to spend more time here and instead try our luck in the beautiful surrounding forests.

After which we keep driving into the Mazurian forest. We decide to be adventurous and veer off the main paved road into a dirt side path lined by very tall trees. We wanted adventure and sure enough we got it, as for the second time in this trip we got hopelessly lost. Luckily this time we did not run into any Warsaw Pact military bases. There are no soldiers around, I think with a sigh of relief. There is no one around at all, actually, I think with somewhat less relief.

We drive through a couple of small villages, farms really, but there is no one around to talk to. We then run into a drunk old, very old man, in his eighties for sure, or at least he looks in his eighties, who is driving a tractor. That is fairly remarkable a feat in itself, as most farmers we have seen in the region have their plows pulled by horses.

He leads us to his nearby farm, where we are introduced to three, possibly four generations of Mazurian farmers.

She can stay in my room, niema problemu

There is a really really old lady dressed in black with a green shawl on her head, who does not speak much. Perhaps because she seems not to hear much either. But she is very friendly, smiles a lot. Then there a a couple of very young kids, maybe five and three years old or something like that. They should be in school, I think.

The drunk tractor driver shows us around a bit. We are invited for tea in the modes but dignified farm house. Here another man, I guess the son of the old lady, in his forties maybe, becomes very friendly. He says we can stay with them for the night if we want, we are welcome. The house is clearly not adequate to host four additional people. We insist that we do not want to disturb. He insists too, specifically indicating with hands and eloquent smiles that Ann can stay with him in his room. Right. He must be the father of the two kids, but where is his wife? Or maybe he is not, who knows, and does it matter? He insists, Ann would not disturb him at all in his room, even if there is only one bed. He really tries to persuade us that this would be best for all, as it is getting late in the day and it might be difficult for us to drive out of the forest and find a place to stay.

It is with some difficulty that we eventually manage to extricate ourselves from this friendly company. After some trying, we even manage to get out of the forest and find a hotel to spend the night.

Mazurian farming

Rowing in the wind

Ann rows hard

There is a pretty lake nearby and we try to rent a canoe or a row-boat. No chance, they say all their boats are reserved. But there is no one around, the place is clearly not busy. I suggest to Ann that she tries and out some dollars and repeat the question. Magically, any boat we want is now available!

This says much about how deeply rooted corruption is in this country. I am not even sure it is appropriate to call it corruption. Corruption means you are doing something wrong, out of line, disruptive of the system. But here it is a way of life, it is normal, it is expected and universally practiced. It IS the system, for things big and small

We choose a row boat and go out into the lake. The sky is cloudy but it does not rain and it is just altogether pleasant. It's cool and windy but it's fun to be out in the nature and do some exercise.

After a while, it get really cool and really windy and it's difficult to steer our boat back to the peer we started from. The man who rented the boat to us sees this and come out to pick us up with a small outboard. It is a bit humiliating, especially as we were never really in danger, but still, it's helpful! We give him three dollars as an extra tip for getting us out of trouble and he is so happy he literally jumps with joy.

Easy evening of card playing and chat in our hotel. We mostly play "scopa", the Italian game I have taught my three American friends.

Leave Gdansk for Oliwa and the Masurian region

Late departure after a leisurely breakfast that does not end before 10:30, but yesterday was a long day...

Oliwa cloister

Anyway we finally get going and head to Oliwa, a suburb of Gdansk with an interesting abbey that exudes history. This was a major headquarters for the Cistercian monks for centuries. Poland's catholic roots reach quite deep in history. It was also a proud town, even an independent one when it was briefly separated from the city state of Free Gdansk in the 1920s. Huge organ inside.

We then move toward Malbork, where we arrive in the late morning to admire the imposing fortress.

Our next stop in the Masurian region. Finally we get some sunny weather and the countryside is beautiful. The small towns and villages we drive through are rather desolate however, much poorer than those we saw in the South of the country.

We reach Olsztyn at dinner time and end up eating at the "Karolowe" restaurant. We have no clue where to go and this is a recommendation from an Italian guide book I have with me. Less than impressive meal, but cheap.

After the early dinner we decide to move on and try to aim and find a place to sleep at Ruciane Nida. In the meantime we need gas for Giallina. We find a station and buy 48 liters. The man at the pump agrees to sell us fuel at black market prices, but refuses to take his cut like all his colleagues. I think he says something along the lines of "this is the right price for the Poles and it should be the same for the foreigners, screw the government rules" but I am not exavtly sure. He is a really honest black market fuel seller.

When we reach Ruciane Nida there is no hotel to speak of.  We move on to Wygryny, a small village of a few hundred people. We stop and ask some passersby for a hotel, and they look at us with puzzled expressions: "Where are you trying to go at this time in this neck of the wood?" they seem to say without speaking. We move on and run into a bunch of drunkards that can't believe they got free entertainment making fun of us fools.

Then luck seems about to strike when a tiny old man says he is working to build a hotel, but then adds that it won't be ready before next year! However, a big signpost from the PTTK (the Polish Tourist Board) announces that "the trees are our friends". Which is just as well as it looks like we may have to spend the night in their company.

We fearlessly drive on and reach Pisz, a small town of some 20,000 souls. it's past 10 pm but we find a small hotel with two rooms. We even manage to smuggle Cathy in as a student of SGPiS so that she can pay the reduced rate.

The evening ends with a couple of beers and playing cards and a long conversation with Ann under the romantic starred sky.

To Hel and back

Get up early and take a ferry to Hel (one "L"). Nothing special, but lost of dogs with no tail roaming around, and tons of dead fish on the beach, bizarre. It is very cold.

Fish and chips Polish style

From Hel we take another boat to Sobot, a nice little town. Long walks until we stop for some fish and chips and a beer (60 zloty).

We almost miss the boat to go back to Gdansk in the evening, as the sea gale (Force 6) forced the cancellation of several ferry rides. We have to buy a ticket to gain access to the ticket office because the peer we need to go to at the harbor is considered a "garden", really bizarre.

Again we unsuccessfully try to change some money on the black market but the changers' technique is always the same and we can not conclude an honest black market currency transaction!

It's been a long day, we grab some food so not memorable I forgot to write about it and hit the sack without the usual card games or chat and comments on the day.

Gdansk money, atlas and music

Gdansk

It gets a bit complicated at check-out in the morning because Cathy, who is a visitor while we are "locals" must pay in hard currency while we can pay in zloty. The difference is huge, about 4 times the real cost in black-market money. And we have to stay at least another night. So we decide to pay up for today and then check her out. She will sneak back into the hotel tonight unofficially.

Baltic Sea

Full day touring Gdansk. We need more money and try to change with some street changers, but unsuccessfully. They all try to cheat us. Can you cheat someone who is trying to illegally change money with unauthorized currency dealers at black market rates? Mmmmmhhh...... Anyway, their technique is always the same: they first accept any exchange rate we suggest, and hand you the zloty equivalent, minus 50 or 100 zloty. When we count the money and point out that they are short changing us, they start arguing and try to take money away from our hands. We are alert enough to avoid being literally ripped off our dollar bank notes, at which point they want their zlotys back and run, and try with some other tourist.

At a second hand bookstore I find a beautiful atlas, printed in 1923, which I buy for 1000 zloty. The bookseller warns me that I may have problems exporting it because it was made before 1945, and as such it is considered an "antique" item and needs an export licence. We'll see, I am sure Marian can help with this kind of things.

In the evening classical concert: the Gdansk Philharmonic plays a program of Brahms (violin concerto) and Sibelius (2nd symphony). They play quite well in my opinion, but the concert hall is quite beat up. Tired furniture and chairs, fading colors. It could use a refit.

Dinner at the Pod Lososzem restaurant, where I taste a great piece of liver. The others have grilled salmon, also quite tasty.