MOSCOW’S MOMENT
Relations are fraught, but with the World Cup round the corner, Russia’s capital is electric, says CLIVE ASLET
OuTSIDE the Kremlin stands an immense statue of Vladimir the Great — not Putin, but Prince Vladimir, who died in 1015. It’s 17 metres tall and, while it looks Victorian, it went up only 18 months ago. anywhere else, the colossus would look like a symptom of megalomania. But in Moscow (where its presence may be explained by events in ukraine, where the prince ruled long before Russia came into existence) things are ‘either the biggest and best in the world — or the worst,’ said our guide.
For months, Moscow has been preparing to welcome visitors to the World Cup, which kicks off on June 14, at a time when the British and Russian governments are barely speaking to each other.
So if you like a touch of tension on your travels, then this is a great year to visit this enthralling city.
Ordinary Russians are not embarrassed at the mention of the Skripals. They believe the poisoning was a British plot to spoil Putin’ s fourth inauguration as president.
Some did not intend to vote, but when they felt a foreign power was attempting to interfere, off they trooped to the polling station.
‘We say Theresa May is the best election agent Putin had,’ joked one.
I last visited in the late Eighties, staying in a gloomy, state-run hotel, shared with resident cockroaches. The food was revolting, the service so bad our host from the state press agency went into the kitchen himself to bring out the plates. This time our hotel was the cosmopolitan Baltschug Kempinski, whose windows give prime views over to Red Square. On the other side of the river, the colossal Soviet- era Rossiya Hotel, which had 3,000 rooms, has been demolished. In its place is Zaryadye Park, with a viewing platform that curls over the river, restaurants and a yet-to-be-completed concert hall. In the entertainment centre, the 5D cinema experience — with a seat that moves, judders and sprinkles the audience with water — had us flying over Moscow, swooping along boulevards, above palaces, onion-domed churches and the 69 acres of the Kremlin.
In Soviet days, children were taught collective responsibility. Every citizen had a duty to keep the city beautiful; dropping litter was a crime against your neighbours. The tradition continues because the streets are spotlessly clean.
NEaRly all the statues of Communist leaders — there used to be thousands — have gone (although a few have been kept for historical reasons in a park outside the new Tretyakov gallery). But as a design aesthetic, Moscow quite likes the Soviet look — retro chic that gives two fingers to the West.
The immense Gum department store on Red Square cheerfully displays historic posters praising the nutritious beetroot. a speciality of the Soviet years, Russian salad has made a comeback in restaurants such as traditional Zhiguli in the lively arbat area. Voskhod, in Zaryadye park, takes its theme from the space programme of the Sixties.
Social realist painters of the Stalinist period are on show in galleries and therethere’ss been talk of moving lenin from his mausoleum on Red Square, but his embalmed remains are still there. He made Moscow the capital in 1918, and the city does nothing by halves. Go to the diamond fund room in the Kremlin — it puts the crown jewels in the shade.
My favourite memories are of Gorki leninskiye, now a museum, where lenin spent his last years, incapacitated after an assassination attempt and a stroke. His simple bed and deliberately uncomfortable chair (no time to relax) can be seen beside the elegant empirestyle furniture of the previous owners, as well as the enormous Rolls- Royce which the Kremlin garage converted for use in snow.
Russia’s football team is not very good — but I have no doubt Moscow will be a big winner once the eyes of the world are upon it.