Tips About Trips to the U.S.S.R.

Now that the Soviet Union has rebuilt the cities that were devastated by the German army in World War II, and now that the Cold War tension of the Stalinist era has eased, Russia is becoming an increasingly popular target for tourists. In 1956, fewer than 500,000 foreigners were adventurous enough to travel through the U.S.S.R.--one-eighth the number that visited France the same year--and about three-quarters of them were from the Communist countries of Eastern Eu rope. This year, which marks the 50th anniversary of the Revolution, Russia expects more than 1,500,000 tourists. At least half of them will be dutiful European Communists. But there will be many French and British, a few Arabs and Africans, and about 25,000 Americans (up from 2,000 a decade ago).

If the Soviets have come relatively late to the realization that tourism is an excellent way to win friends and earn foreign exchange, they are rapidly making up for lost time. At the moment, hotels in Moscow are booked sol id. But new hotels are going up everywhere, including Moscow's vast Russia Hotel, now partly open, to be completed this fall. It will be the world's largest, with 3,182 air-conditioned rooms. Imitating the U.S.'s interstate highway system, Russia is building 39,000 miles of two-and four-lane paved roads--punctuated by 40 new motels. Formerly closed cities are being opened up, and internal flight schedules are being expanded. This fall, Pan Am and Aeroflot expect to commence direct flights between New York and Moscow (9 hr. 10 min., $548 on the 21-day excursion plan). And to make sure the tourist flow keeps up, Intourist, the state-run travel agency, is now priming the pump in good capitalist fashion with a $1,000,000-a-year advertising budget abroad.

Beating the Queue. The Russia that Intourist offers, according to recent visitors, is long on art, buildings and the accomplishments of the Soviet Union (see color), but short on contact with the people. Still, as Mrs. A. Barnett Blakemore, wife of the dean of the Chicago Theological Seminary, found, "there's hardly a place where you can get more for your travel dollar."

Almost inevitably, the first stop in Moscow is the Kremlin, which was opened to tourists nine years ago. Within its massive crenelated walls is a dense microcosm of Russian history, from lovely churches and 17th century palaces to its most recent addition, the modernistic 6,000-seat Palace of the

Congresses. Though the Russians themselves silently queue up for Lenin's tomb outside the Kremlin in a permanent line stretching halfway across Red Square, Intourist guides slip foreign tourists in near the front, and waiting time rarely exceeds 20 minutes. Due decorum is advised: one U.S. tourist was asked by the guards to take his hands out of his pockets to show respect.

"Dollar Shops." The Moscow Metro, prime example of Russia's cleanliness, with its magnificently mosaicked underground stations, is another must, as are the museums of art (particularly the Pushkin and the Tretyakov). Americans who drop into GUM, the mammoth department store, must be prepared for elbowing crowds and the Soviet system of shopping: the customer prices the item he wants, then pays for it in advance at the cashier's desk, returns to the display counter with receipt in hand to claim his purchase. Much better bargains are available to Americans at the "dollar shops" (called Beriozka), which accept foreign exchange only, in return offer large discounts on everything from black caviar (81-c- an ounce) to folk art.

Aside from a few tame youth cafes and sedate "Western-style" ballrooms from out of the 1930s or so, there is nothing resembling a nightclub in Moscow or elsewhere in the U.S.S.R. More interesting places to go in the evening: the Moscow Circus (bike-riding bears, acrobats on horseback) and the Bolshoi Ballet (6:30 p.m. sharp).

"White Nights." For most tourists, Leningrad, the old czarist capital of St. Petersburg and cradle of the Revolution, with its superb setting on the Neva River, is the handsomest city in the Soviet Union. Number one draw is the Hermitage Museum, which contains a dazzling art collection of nearly 3,000,000 works that includes a whole room of Rembrandts, and the world's finest assemblage of Gauguins, Matisses and early Picassos. Two other great sights: the Peter and Paul Fortress housing the tombs of all the Romanovs from Peter the Great to Alexander III (except Peter II), and the baroque gardens of Petrodvorets, the old Summer Palace, 40 minutes outside town on the Gulf of Finland. A delightful summertime consequence of Leningrad's northern location is the "white nights"--it stays light until around midnight and never gets totally dark. Another consequence: summer evenings as chill as 40DEG.

For a warmer and sunnier climate, there is ancient Kiev, 490 miles southwest of Moscow, on the Dnieper River. The Ukrainian capital, known as the "Mother of Cities," dates back to the 5th century. It was Christianized by Vladimir I in the 10th century; the main shopping area is still called Street of the Cross. Today a garden city with many parks and chestnut trees, Kiev draws tourists to the gold-domed St. Sophia Cathedral, one of the great masterpieces of Russian architecture, and to the nearby ravine of Babi Yar, the infamous spot commemorated in Evtushenko's poem, where some 200,000 Jews and Soviet prisoners were exterminated during the German occupation.

Salt Mines & Big Brother. For the adventurous tourist with more time and money, there are now 100 open cities to choose from. Easily reached by plane from Moscow are the workers' Black Sea health resorts of Odessa, Yalta and Sochi, with their pebbled beaches, plump bikinied women and soft Mediterranean climate. Five hours by plane from Moscow are the ancient Asian cities of Tashkent, Samarkand and Bukhara, with beautiful mosques and colorful bazaars. Northeast of them lies AlmaAta, a 20-year-old planned city that is the capital of Kazakhstan. The Siberian scientific center of Novosibirsk was opened to foreigners last year and tourists who wish to go farther out can go on to Irkutsk (8 hours from Moscow). There they can visit Lake Baikal, the world's deepest. One taste of its pure waters, and one will thirst for them for life. Or they can ask to see salt mines, which the Russians will gladly show them--they are all automated now.

Distances in Russia are vast, and planes are the dominant mode of travel for tourists, who complain that many of them seem to be converted bombers, with inadequate air conditioning and pressurizing--and that the pilots bank too sharply. Where the cities are close together, a train ride is worth it for the experience of traveling in a deluxe "soft seat" car, at the end of which there is always a samovar of hot tea warmed by live coals.

For the unhurried tourist, there are trips by steamer, excursion boat or hydrofoil on the Volga and Don rivers from Kazan to Volgograd to Rostovon-Don, along the Dnieper from Kiev to Kherson, up the Neva from Leningrad to Petrodvorets. For the most part, tourists report that the equipment is modern and the service excellent. Says Pomona, Calif., Attorney Graham Talbott, who took his wife on a six-day cruise down the Danube from Vienna to Yalta: "The only annoying aspect was a Big Brother speaker over your bed that never quit issuing orders from the time it woke you up at 7 a.m. There wasn't a switch to turn the blasted thing off."

The ABCs. Apart from scenery, architecture and art, there are also glimpses of the formidable Soviet system that Americans have talked, read and worried about for more than a generation. Some U.S. visitors feel that they are embarked on a bold expedition. "Hello, there, everyone," one American chortled cheerfully as he walked into his first Moscow hotel room. "If anyone was listening," he confided later, "I just wanted them to know I was friendly." Most visitors leave convinced that rooms are no longer bugged, nor do they have any sense of being followed. They all agree, however, that plans should be made well in advance, and a plan once made should be adhered to. The Soviet travel bureaucracy takes a dim view of impulsiveness.

Intourist has a near-monopoly on tourist bookings, having contracts with some 80 North American travel agencies. At least a month should be allowed for confirmation of bookings, and the whole trip must be paid for in advance. The deluxe plan of travel is the only way that individuals and couples may go during July and August, and it is a bargain. For $35 a day ($50 for couples) the deluxe tourist receives coupons providing for lodging, meals (breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner), three hours' use of car and driver and Intourist guide--in practice, the guide will work longer on request. There is no choice of hotels. Indeed, unless a tourist pays a $25 surcharge, he cannot discover where he is being lodged until he arrives.

In preparing for the trip, Nagel's U.S.S.R. Travel Guide ($8.95) is indispensable. Trying to master the Russian language in a hurry is hopeless, but it is a good idea to learn the Cyrillic alphabet. Many words, especially on signs, are really French or English; pecTopaH simply spells "restaurant," Tede^OH spells "telephone." It also helps to memorize about a dozen words or phrases such as "please" (pronounced puzhzal'sta), "thank you" (spaseeba), "now" (saychas), and "then" (patom), for restaurant ordering. The larger Intourist restaurants have menus in four languages including English, and it is a good idea to liberate one--preferably with permission--as soon as possible. Thus armed, the visitor finds it easy to order meals in out-of-the-way restaurants where only Russians go.

Pigeons & Pornography. Even in summer, the suitcase should contain warm as well as summer clothing, plenty of color film to be developed back in the U.S., a rubber sink stopper (many of the sinks are plugless), toilet paper (public washrooms don't provide any), a small short-wave radio for picking up the BBC or Radio Free Europe (the only English-language sources of non-Party-lining news) and an assortment of gifts. Tipping is officially not allowed, and many Russians are insulted by the offer of money. But Intourist guides gratefully accept paperback editions of Hemingway, Faulkner and Salinger, jazz records, makeup, ballpoint pens and chewing gum.

Entering and leaving Russia, many tourists zip right through customs without so much as opening a bag, while others get a thorough going-over. Visitors are allowed to bring in the usual items for personal use duty-free. Not to bring: Soviet currency, firearms, pigeons, pornography or propaganda. Tourists are asked to declare any gold they are bringing in and, since customs officials seem obsessed with this, it is not a time to be careless. An overlooked charm bracelet has been known to result in a lengthy inquisition.

Follow the Rules. After clearing customs and converting currency at the State Bank window (official rate: 1 ruble = $1.11; there are 100 kopecks to the ruble), the visitor checks in with Airport Intourist, then heads by car for his hotel. There he will be relieved of his passport, but he shouldn't panic. It will be returned before the end of his stay. Next morning, promptly at 9, the car and Intourist guide arrive to start the sightseeing. The guides are most often attractive, bright, well-trained single girls in their 20s, eager to point out Soviet accomplishments, and thoroughly indoctrinated. The tourist picks up a fresh one in each city, keeps her for the duration of his stay.

On balance, Intourist shapes up as a remarkably efficient, if fairly rigid, organization (in Moscow there is even a special clinic to care for ailing foreigners). But even so, the American who visits Russia should be prepared for frequent frustration. Mail from the U.S. takes seven to ten days. No telephone books are available, and the only way to reach a Russian is to know his number in advance.

No legitimate tourist need fear harassment if he obeys the rules: Do not pinch souvenirs, no matter how insignificant, do not take photographs from planes or within the 15-mile border zone, and do not take shots of military and scientific installations, dams, bridges and tunnels. Above all, do not change money in the flourishing black market.

Slow-Motion Service. Language, rather than ideological hostility, is the main barrier and, as a result, a trip to Russia is longer on sights than on personal contact. When the custom of seating strangers at the same restaurant table does bring the tourist face to face with an English-speaking Russian, the American will usually be grilled about his income and his car, and sometimes about integration, Viet Nam and the Middle East.

The Russians are a well-disciplined people, and they get lots of practice; they stand in line for everything. For impatient Americans, particularly at mealtimes, the slow-motion service can be intensely frustrating. Lunch and dinner are two-to three-hour affairs. When a lazy waiter waves you off with the explanation that the dining room is reserved, simply say "delegatsia" without quavering and you will probably be seated. If all else fails, take a hint from an Intourist guide who, when confronted with a Moscow restaurant so full that the door was locked, summoned the manager and, pointing to his American companion, uttered the magic word, "Rockefeller," and in they went.

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