The Soviets never got their house in order, but will a lesson emerge from the past
Updated 29 March 2024 | First published: 21 July 2021~ Its Curtains for the House of Soviets
It is official: 51 years after its construction and the same number of years of non-occupation, arguably one of Kaliningrad’s most iconic buildings, and ironically one of its most lambasted, especially by the western press, is about to be demolished. I am, of course, referring to the House of Soviets, ninety per cent of which was completed in 1985 on a site close to where once stood the magnificent Königsberg Castle, the East Prussian city’s jewel in the crown, which was extensively damaged in the Second World War and then, in 1967, dynamited into oblivion.
Rumour has it that the House of Soviets was regrettably erected on top of a labyrinth of subterranean tunnels connected to Königsberg Castle which rendered the structure unsafe, from whence came the folk story that the concrete behemoth was doomed from day one, never to be completed, never to be occupied, cursed by an act of celestial sabotage bent on avenging Königsberg’s fate.
Personally speaking, the House of Soviets was the first building to attract my attention and the one that imprinted itself on my memory when I arrived in Kaliningrad for the first time in winter 2000. I do not believe that it had anything to do with the avenging shadow of Teutonicism, but that it was rendered more significant and considerably more memorable by virtue of its epithetic pathos. As a statement it was one that would have been better had it never been made. At best it was a back-handed compliment and at worst a symbolic fiasco, for, in spite of its formidable name, it never was the House of Soviets, in fact quite the opposite, and would have been more aptly called the House Where No Soviets Were or the House Where the Soviets Ought to Have Been or, well, you get the picture …
Like many who live in Kaliningrad, my feelings for the House Conspicuous for The Soviet’s Absence are ambivalent. By any stretch of the imagination, the building is not a pretty sight, but it is very much of its time. Similar structures in the UK, hailed in the 1960s as a new dawn in architectural design, have mostly gone the way the House of Soviets is going, although a handful won reprieve from the demolition hitmen by forging themselves a new identity through the listed buildings’ honours and have since become a footnote in Forgets Guide to the Architecturalocracy.
There are some in Kaliningrad who believe that the House of Soviets deserves similar status, that it is iconic enough to be preserved, but the official view is that restoring the house, which is a hundred times bigger than any house that I have ever seen (perhaps the Soviets got lost in there), is a far too costly enterprise.
The House of Soviets’ problem — what should be done about it and what should become of it — has been the subject of ardent debate for many years, as has been what should replace it. The cultural-heritage lobby has never had any doubts: the House of Soviets borders on hallowed land. It is right on the doorstep of Königsberg Castle, or rather where Königsberg Castle formerly stood, and this group, which allegedly boasts notable architects among its membership, holds firmly to the opinion that that any regeneration project destined for this patch should pay homage to the cultural and the architectural significance of all that has gone before, and this includes, but is not restricted to, pundits who are of the unswayable opinion that nothing less than the reconstruction of Königsberg Castle will suffice.
Understanding the negative answer as to why Königsberg Castle cannot be reconstructed requires a lot more insight into large-scale building projects than the romantic desire to have it rebuilt. Like you, I gain great satisfaction from architect’s drawings, scale models and, nowadays, the ubiquitous computer-generated 3-D virtual tour, but what do I know about the real nitty gritty — about materials, logistics, the ins and outs of engineering and, most importantly, expense?
I appreciate that should Königsberg Castle or part thereof be reconstructed that the international community would be obliged to rethink Kaliningrad, to review it not for its over publicised fixation on military might but as a showcase to the world of the highest cultural, historical and architectural values, and that any design programme forward-thinking enough to incorporate features from the castle could not help but be held in the highest esteem by architects, city planning departments, civic leaders, politicians and socio-cultural historians throughout the world. Not a bad thing, you have to admit, for a place that has had to endure a recent lifetime of negative press, propaganda and impolitic criticism.
So, has the moment been lost forever? Is Kaliningrad standing at the crossroads of its destiny yet again, and are those people to whom its destiny is entrusted going to steam it on down the highway that leads to fame, honour and fortune or put it into a barrow and wheel it down a side road?
Whilst the House of Soviets stood … and stood, and stood, and stood … its fate undecided, and whilst the debates of what should and should not be done reamed on inconclusively, conservationists, historians and culture-conscious lobbyists nurtured a ray of hope that shone, if not as brightly as they would have liked, at least with some conceivable lustre. Hope, after all, dies last, they say.
But even Hope is not immortal. The fate of the House of Soviets, which hung in the balance for so many years, has finally been decided, not only with respect to it coming down but also with regard to the nature of its replacement.
Exit stage left the House of Soviets; enter stage right controversy.
It’s Curtains for the House of Soviets
As I understand it, the days of debate are ended. Various regeneration plans were invited and submitted for what will effectively become, when the curtain falls on the House of Soviets, Kaliningrad’s new city centre, and one of the plans has been chosen. The problem is, however, that the Chosen One, is not everybody’s choice. The plans have, to coin a phrase, received a mixed reception, both from Kaliningrad’s Joe Publicskee and a handful of Russia’s respected architects. But isn’t this par for the course, you ask? Whenever has it been possible to please all of the people all of the time?
At the end of the day, whether it is a city redevelopment project or putting up a garden shed, people will take sides. Heels dig in, opponents pull and tug from their respective corners and opinions harden and grow more vituperative.
I do not have to voice where my allegiance lies, because I am an old fart who lives in the past and rarely likes to come out of it. But if you are one of those who are sorely disappointed by what they propose to build on the grave of Königsberg Castle and the haunted House of Soviets, the best advice I have for you is learn to time travel as I have done!
Allow me to elucidate with a word (not the last one, I hope) from the Hope Dies Last Society: “Just because they are not going to reconstruct Königsberg Castle in 2021 does not mean that they never will. 2021 is a small part of the ever-changing present; it isn’t something written in stone.” You see, the beauty of time travel is that not only can you go backwards but you also get to flirt a little with the secrets of the future!
Take England’s King Richard III, for example, who never listened to me. This great and majestic nobleman who was known for centuries as the lost king, eventually turned up, or rather was turned up, in, of all places, Asian Leicester. Where exactly? Under a city carpark! Had anybody told King Richard III whilst he was alive that he would end up under a carpark in predominantly Asian Leicester, he would, having executed the person first who dared to suggest such a terrible thing ~ Leicester of all places!! ~ most assuredly have avowed “Never!” And, of course, he would have been wrong!
So, never ever say never! Only time will tell!
*Note that in the interim, between the time this post was written and revised, rumour has reached me that the new city-centre project has been shelved and when the House of Soviets goes, it is being replaced with parkland.
To coincide with what would have been Victor Ryabinin’s 75th birthday, a book has been published which celebrates and commemorates his life and work. Conceived, supervised and edited by Kaliningrad artist Marina Simkina, daughter of the famous Russian poet Sam Simkin, and Boris Nisnevich, author and journalist, this fascinating book contains personal memories of Victor Ryabinin and critical acclaim of his work and career from 28 of his friends and colleagues.
More information about the book can be found by following this link [Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg], which will take you to the permanent pages on this blog under the category Victor Ryabinin Königsberg.
An artist who can hear angels speak Художник, у которого ангелы говорят Kaliningrad author and journalist, Boris Nisnevich’s essay on the haunting influence that Königsberg’s ruins had on Victor Ryabinin’s philosophy and art: “When I wrote the draft to this article, I wrote that I believe there is no equal to him in Kaliningrad — I still believe he has no equal.” ~ Boris Nisnevich
In Memory of Victor Ryabinin This article was published in memoriam on the first anniversary of Victor’s death. Victor died on 18 July 2019.
Personal Tour Guide Kaliningrad Stanislav Konovalov (Stas) was a student and close friend of Victor Ryabinin. In the months following Victor’s death Stas supervised and worked on the emotionally and physically difficult task of dismantling, packing, transporting and storing the many and various Königsberg artefacts, artworks and assorted relics that once adorned and constituted The Studio ~ Victor’s atmospheric art studio and celebrated reception room. Stas took detailed photographs and measurements of the room in the hope one day that it could be reconstructed as part of a permanent exhibition to Victor and his work. Sadly, Stas himself passed away in November 2020. We live in hope that someone will continue the work that his untimely demise left unfinished. This is Stas’ story.
Victor Ryabinin’s Headstone Königsberg After quite a hiatus Victor’s grave was finally bestowed with a headstone befitting the man and the artist. It shows Victor sitting on a stool in his art studio. He is leaning nonchalantly in his chair, relaxed, unassuming, in tune with himself, his life and the world around him. His right arm is resting on one of his art-historian creations, his left arm cradling the base. The artwork is an assemblage, a composition of assorted Königsberg relics assembled icon-like within a frame …
Published: 13 July 2021 ~ It Happened at Waldau Castle Kaliningrad
Take a 750-year-old castle, a friendly curator-family from central Russia, an impressive and well-stocked museum, two classic Volgas and a vintage Hanomag car, a guided tour by a youthful tour guide better informed than Tacitus, home-baked bread the delights of which I have never tasted before made by a child baker, a female troupe in full traditional German dress demonstrating Prussian folk dancing, first-class quality beer and cognac, a rousing speech by our friend Grozmani about the book that took him 29 years to research and write, an opera concert performed in the open air by professional opera singers, a grand finale supper with large iced cakes, and what you have is one of the most unusual and interesting birthday parties that I have ever had the good fortune to have been invited to.
The curious location of this event, to which we were driven in style in our friend’s, Arthur’s, classic Volga, was Waldau Castle, thirty minutes or so by car from Kaliningrad.
We had called at the castle at the end of the Kaliningrad Retro Car Club’s rally a couple of weeks before, on which occasion I had been attracted to the castle on many levels but immediately by the feel of what it was and what you would not expect it to be.
It Happened at Waldau Castle Kaliningrad
No sooner had we passed through the gate into the castle grounds than I was smitten with an enveloping sense of calm, a convalescent repose, which had it been a churchyard or a monastery would have excited no further response but, given the purpose for which it had been constructed and by which it had lived out most of its life, fortification, seemed oddly at variance with its military biography.
My first impression had been no aberration, for the same singularity stepped out to greet me when we passed through the castle gate this evening. There was no challenge, no rattle of sabres or priming of firearms, in fact nothing to authenticate its militaristic legacy, only an inviting, calling, sense of calm, the kind that those who seek and who are fortunate to find might speak of in terms of sanctuary.
We had pulled up in our Volga not at the front of the house but a short distance from it and parked at the side of the drive. Although the castle’s surviving principal building was visible from where we were, it was yet indistinct, only a glimpse of its tall, grey walls asserted itself through the wooded area that lay between us, the tree trunks and branches obscuring whilst the leafy canopy overhead cast a thoughtful but not unpleasing shade over the tranquil prospect and introduced a welcome coolness in which refuge could be taken, for although it was early evening the heat of the day had not yet abated.
Set in the middle of this entreating copse stands a solid monument of large, rectangular proportions surmounted by an apex top. It is dedicated to those who fell in the First World War. This is a German monument which has on both of its narrower ends an incised representation of the imperial military cross and along the top edge of the monument’s greater width words of commemoration.
There is something so touchingly melancholic about this monument immersed within the shade of Castle Waldau’s trees. I detect in it an attitude of self-consciousness, as if it plainly understands that whilst symbolism is timeless, the land on which it is stationed, and for which the men it pays tribute to gave their lives, is now but a point of historical record and has lost all claim to anything else.
Be this as it may, I could find nothing in the calm that I have already described to suggest the slightest trace of rancour, just a gentle, quiet, contentment. So, if there are ghosts in the grounds of Waldau Castle, you are less likely to hear them rattling chains than to catch them occasionally sighing.
It Happened at Waldau Castle Kaliningrad
The path that leads away from the German memorial led us in a straight line to the front door of the castle. We stood on the opposite side of the sweeping driveway taking in the Teutonic might with which all German buildings of a certain age and stature in this part of the world are redoubtably invested. Bold, solid and, apart from the section of the building devoted to the doorway and its encasement, austere, the structure embodies typical if mythical German virtues and has an impregnability about it that perceptibly transcends bricks and mortar, effortlessly overshadowing the knowledge and laws of mere physics.
Waldau Castle facade
The only concession that the architect of this building has made to the decorative lies in the perpendicular that projects, surrounds and extends vertically from the main entrance, a feature which supports two sets of simple Gothic windows, three in parallel, both sets incorporating tracery and both arranged within a rectangular oriel supported by a stepped, pyramidical corbel. Enrichment takes the form of a small number of various blind, recessed arches, with the oriel culminating in a crenelated cornice and the perpendicular typically concluded as a broad stepped gable, the last horizontal platform of which makes the perfect base for Mrs Stork and her nest.
Two photographs (see above) depicting Waldau Castle entrance and the Gothic nature of the embellishing features
To the right of the building, orienting from the position of observer standing at the front of the castle, is a second three-storey building connected to the principal by a high wall. This second building houses the castle museum.
The museum at Castle Waldau, Kaliningrad region, Russia
Both the castle and its grounds have passed through innumerable transitions in its 750-year history and no better appreciation of this can be found than by visiting the on-site museum, which occupies the cellar, ground and second floors of the surviving wing of the castle.
It is impressive in its collection of artefacts, impressive in its layout, impressive in its inventive displays and impressive in the past that clings to it in every tread of its ancient steps and every nook and cranny. It is so impressive that it needs to be covered in its own article, so we will put it on hold for the time being and revisit it at a later date. Ghosts and God willing!
It Happened at Waldau Castle Kaliningrad
In the wall that connects the two remaining parts of Waldau Castle, there is a small, low archway, the kind in historic buildings that must be walked through in order that the apparition that you will eventually become can follow in the footsteps of those that once like you were physical forms. It is truly a time-honoured ritual, in every sense of the word, but do not forget to lower your head!
On the other side of this portal, we found ourselves on a piece of wild ground, on a slight eminence looking over more ground of an even wilder nature: lush, green, overgrown and silent. This is the last step on the road to complete tranquility that you would want to take of your own volition. We ambled along, Olga, our friend Inara and I, stopping now and again to move fragments of brick with our shoes or to pick up a piece of pottery, deep in the thought of moments past.
The back of the castle is not in the best of health. There is no denying its solid state, but the wall rendering has given way in places and the castle’s eyes, the many windows spread out across its awesome width and height, are covered in a mess of makeshift cataracts. I cannot remember when, if ever, I last beheld such an incongruous and anomalous sight, in which doors of all shapes, sizes, makes and periods have been requisitioned for use as wooden blinds to eye-patch empty window sockets. But work proceeds, and as Waldau Castle knows, possibly better than anyone, nothing remains the same for long or forever.
Returning to the front of the castle was a lot like having swapped Leonard Cohen for VE Day. The vintage cars had been lined up on the opposite side of the drive to the castle entrance and the party guests were busy assembling in the middle of the driveway.
A troupe of ladies all dressed in period Prussian costume were about to demonstrate the art of traditional Prussian dancing. The music and footwork in clogs set the party spirit in motion, but before getting down to the serious business of sampling the beer and cognac, we were about to be given a guided tour of Waldau Castle’s ground floor rooms.
On the other side of Waldau Castle’s entrance sits a great hall, which owes its present restored condition to the hard work and volunteer commitment of one family, the Sorokins, whose tender loving care can be seen and felt everywhere. Observing and appreciating is one thing, but it is quite another to have to clean and repair acres of wooden floorboards, bricks by the thousands and dusty, peeling plasterwork and have to construct hefty, wooden, external doors and massy window frames when by trade you are not a carpenter but are the sort of valuable person who can turn your hand to anything.
When my wife mentioned this feat to the head of the Sorokin family, he modestly confirmed, “No, I am not a carpenter by trade, but I believe that everyone has an innate knowledge that they rarely ever use, and if necessitated can turn their hand to anything.” I would like to have concurred, and I did note the professionalism of his castle doors and windows, but I also recalled in secret embarrassment how, back in the 1970s, my one foray into DIY had resulted in the humiliating experience of witnessing the wall-mounted can opener that I had screwed to the wall lasting for less than a day before it fell off ~ and so I had my doubts. As the saying goes, “Horses for courses.”
In the process of describing Waldau Castle it is next to impossible not to resort to words like strong, solid, robust, but it is only when you get inside that you are able to fully appreciate the exactitude with which these attributions apply. The windows, sitting as they do at the front of broad, deep brick arches, reveal the thickness of the walls to be at least three feet, and the quality of the brickwork, in all its restored glory, leaves you in little doubt that endurance and longevity have always been the castle’s watchwords.
But restoration in terms of visitor attraction is not confined to structural work. Also to be considered is, for want of a better word, the inclusion of suitable ‘props’, the seeking out, acquiring and emplacing of interior décor and household items best able to create a medieval atmosphere. Central to this objective, and situated in the main hall of the castle, are two suits of armour ~ a matching pair (I did not stop to check if it was ‘his’ and ‘hers’), conjoined with wall-mounted hunting trophies, intricate tapestries and a ceiling pendant made from a heavy wooden wheel entirely surrounded by antler horns. I’ll have the full Hermann Göring baronial hunting-lodge works, please!
Olga Hart with tapestry at Waldau Castle
Wall thickness Waldau Castle
The tapestries, which are as colourful and imaginative as they are intricate, are made to order for the Sorokin family from specific patterns that they provide to a specialist company. Now that my wife had seen these, I wondered how long I would have to wait. It was not long: “I really want to buy one of these!” Olga exhaled.
Our tour guide was the oldest son of the Sorokin family, who not only had an incredible knowledge of the history of the castle, but was fluent, articulate and completely unphased when it came to holding court to so many adult strangers. My Russian gets better every day (I boast ye not), but my present knowledge was no match for the speed and confidence with which this young man discharged his verbal duty.
Our guide led us from the main hall into an adjoining room. There are no corridors, at least between rooms, in this part of Waldau Castle, thus access to the three great rooms at ground level is obtained on a door-to-room basis.
The second room, though large, was of smaller dimensions than the first, but as with the former had undergone extensive renovation and as with the former was work in progress.
From here we were taken into the kitchens, where, at the far end of the room, two hefty brick-built ovens encased in rusting white metal testified to the gargantuan task of cooking meals on a banquet scale. The ovens were quiet today and the castle interior cool, but one can imagine how unbearably hot and sweaty this environment would once have been when full of cooks and servants and the ovens in full swing.
In this room there was another oven. Tall, slim, far more elegant than the ones I have described, made of ebonised cast iron, with a succession of white porcelain knobs protruding from rows and layers of doors, this oven was of German manufacture. It had a German precision-build quality about it that was undeniably superior, and I should not imagine for one moment that anyone among our company was in the least surprised to learn that this fine example of industrial German craftsmanship, which is almost 170 years old, is as functional today as it was on the day it was made.
Not a grandfather clock!
Two other features in this kitchen that caught my eye were the heavy wooden serving hatch in the wall to the back of me and a nineteenth century iron ceiling column, with an intricately wrought Corinthian capital.
Whilst our young tour guide was fulfilling his duty, a man entered the room who was immediately recognisable to us. It was our friend Ivan. At first, I thought what a coincidence, and in a way I was right. I knew that Ivan was renovating an old German building of his own, but I had not realised that it was just up the road from Waldau Castle. And a second coincidence, it was his birthday, too.
We were greeting each other just as the tour guide was explaining about the intrinsic dangers of old building restoration. Apparently, in the process of their labours the Sorokin family had uncovered Schweinfurt paint, or Emerald Green as it was generically known.
Emerald Green was an extremely popular colour in the early nineteenth century. It was used in paint, wallpapers and a number of other pigmented and dyed products, and it was used extensively. But whilst most of us know about the dangers of friable asbestos, less people are acquainted with the fact that many old green paints and green-coloured wallpapers, those made from a compound in which arsenic was one of the main ingredients, could, did and can kill. Highly toxic when it was produced, the dust from this arsenic derivative continues to pose a serious threat to health and retains its lethal potential.
Right on cue, no sooner had our tour guide apprised our fellow tourers of this warning from the past, than a playful poltergeist or two, decided to shake the ceiling. A small amount of dust descended, enough to make our company beat a hasty retreat.
In the first room, where we had now re-assembled, I had noticed earlier that opposite the main entrance there was a carved, Gothic screen in wood, which, on closer investigation, I discovered was employed to separate the area in which we were standing from a corridor that ran the entire length of the back of the building. This was an unusual arrangement, at least it was not one that I was familiar with in the large historic houses and castles that I had visited in England. In the wall of the corridor, a few feet back from the screen, I also observed a great wooden staircase that could be closed off, if need be, by two incredibly large and heavy doors.
We were not privy to this section of the castle today or to its upper storeys, but I hope we may be allowed to explore at a later date.
There are many things that can inculcate a thirst, and history is one of them. A table in the main hall had been laid out with food, bottles of beer and cognac and, on the word ‘go’, it was every man for himself (I have no idea what the women were doing?). To accompany my cognac, I chose a large, flat, round bread roll, and was glad that I did. I cannot recall tasting bread half as delicious as this. The second surprise was that the baker of this delicacy turned out to be a young boy, the youngest son of the Sorokin family. When Olga praised him for the bread, he threw his arms around her and thanked her for her kind words, saying that it was the nicest thing that anyone had said to him. I endorsed her praise, adding Königsbacker beware!
Our friend Yury and I were in full flow about the quality of the beers when, in true Russian party fashion, it was announced that we all had to congregate outside on the drive to do something? When I discovered what that something was, an attempt by the hosts to dragoon us into a dance routine, I swiftly excused myself. Our friend Ivan followed my lead, but Yury stepped up to the challenge, and I was only too happy to play the part of photographer as he was twizzled around the tarmacadam.
Yury Grozmani demonstrating the art of Prussian folk dancing; and above, the talented boy who bakes the bread
We had not long been back inside, and not too far from the table, when a second announcement was made. It was now time to witness an operatic performance, which would take place on the granite stone courtyard at the front of the Sorokin house.
It would be dishonest of me to claim that I have any love or affection for opera, but, by the same token, it would be no less dishonest if I did not admit that I enjoyed this performance immensely. The Sorokin family’s house made a superb backdrop, the large open window with wrought-iron lattice work emitted the piano accompaniment perfectly and, from where we were sitting, gave us a first-rate view of the pianist at work.
I marvelled at the fact that the performers required no artificial amplification systems to project their voices, which were either remarkably well toned, aided by the acoustics of the building that lay behind them, or both.
Before the performance commenced, our friend, Yury Grozmani, delivered a speech as requested by the host, about the book he had researched and written on the vintage cars of Königsberg. Yury is what you would call a natural speech maker and, as he admitted himself, once fired up it was difficult for him to come back down.
Yury delivers a speech about the book that he worked on for 29 years
When both performances reached their respective conclusions, the tables were rearranged and laid out for supper. I refrained from indulging in the big iced cakes but was quite pleased that we had enough time and enough cognac left for one or two for the road before being chauffeured home in style by Arthur in his Volga.
Essential details (not of the party, but of Waldau Castle):
Waldau Castle Kaliningradskaya Ulitsa, 20 Nizov’e, Kaliningrad Oblast, 238313, Russia
Tel: 007 (963) 299-85-43
Opening hours 7 days a week ~ 10am~5pm
How to get there By car, taxi, bus. The approximate journey time is 30 minutes
Growing old is an occupational hazard of being born, but by staying young forever you can avoid untested vaccines and serious complications from catching Covid-19.
Just when I was absolutely certain that I would soon be certain about changing the name of this series of diary posts from ‘self-isolating’ to something more applicable to the lifestyle I am leading, like what?, along came the Delta variant, the call for bars and restaurants that do not have outside seating areas to close, renewed attention to maskee wearing and a rallying cry for mass vaccination, which has as its masthead the controversial word ‘mandatory’. Thank heavens for that, I thought: self-isolating it is and thus it will remain.
An inveterate worrier, and a professional at that, who is more worried about not having something to worry about than worrying about something, lately I have done a lot of introspective soul-searching as to why coronavirus has not bothered me as much as it should, and in the process have asked myself the questions: Is it because I have adopted a reckless and cavalier attitude? Have I been turned by the myriad conspiracy theories? Or have I just dropped out of the panic circle by living one day at a time and by allowing the news that I can be bothered to read to simply wash over me?
Not much news is good news and no news even better, but if you have ever tried avoiding mainstream media, along with the gabbling gibberish of social media, you will inevitably have discovered that it is not that easy. There always seems to be some well-meaning soul on hand to replace the valve in the radio that self-preservation removed.
Dropping out is a great feeling, truly emancipating, and what the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve about, but bad news like coronavirus itself has an aerosol effect (at least, I think that is the right word for it), and when I turned on and tuned in I discovered that in the UK Matt Hancock had left his post, disgraced but lustfully happy, that the man who had replaced him, Mr Sajid Javid, the brown man with a bald head, was calling for ‘F’ Day and that western media was adopting an ‘I told you so’ attitude to Russia’s latest Covid predicament, eagerly using words like ‘forced to play catchup’ and ‘caught on the back foot’ to describe Russia’s clamour to get as many people on the vaccination bandwagon and in the shortest time possible as the Delta variant stalks the land.
Our World in Data 1 states that 18.5 million people have been fully vaccinated in Russia, representing 12.8% of the population, compared to 48.2% fully vaccinated in the United States and 51.3% in the UK. So, perhaps the phrase catchup is not as undeserved as it first might appear.
From The Moscow Times2 I learn that the Delta variant is surging ~ now, where did I put that maskee? ~ that someone in Moscow has been detained on suspicion of selling fake coronavirus vaccine certificates and that Moscow’s first criminal case against someone has been opened for allegedly purchasing a counterfeit QR code, which could be used to grant the perpetrator access for indoor dining in Moscow’s restaurants. It is times like these that make me feel glad that I am a beans-on-toast man.
So, does this all mean, taking into account the ‘success story’ of the UK’s vaccination programme, that jumping onto a small boat and heading to the Sceptered Isle would be strategically fortuitous. After all, if I was to set off now I might arrive just in time to celebrate Britain’s big ‘F Day’.
And yet, there is no confusion like coronavirus. Google News UK throws up any number of articles claiming that the virus can be spread and caught even by those who have been fully vaccinated; that thousands of Brits are destined to catch coronavirus once restrictions are eased; that ‘breakthroughs’ are happening all the time (that’s not victims breaking out of lockdown but coronavirus infecting people who have had the vaccine); that Brits are being told to carry on social distancing and wearing masks even when they have had two jabs; that booster jabs will be needed … etc
The Mirror3 reports, for example, that the UK can expect 100,000 cases per day as restrictions are eased. Another Mirror4 article tells us to watch out for Long Covid, and identifies 14 symptoms that could be signs of Covid, from insomnia to earache. Looking down the Mirror’s list I thought, “Well, I’ll be buggered, it looks as though I may have had Long Covid since I was 14, or even before”.
Then there was this report from the BBC5 which informed me that due to escalating cases of Covid that the NHS Covid contact tracing app used in England and Wales must be made less sensitive to take account of the hundreds of thousands of new cases that will emerge after ‘F Day’, which, in case you are in any doubt, means Freedom day. I had to back-track through the news and read up on what exactly this app is and what it does. Apparently, it detects the distance between users and the length of time spent in close proximity, which is currently 2m or less and for more than 15 minutes. In doing so it seemed as if I had stumbled upon the latest chapter in How to make your life technologically unbearable and become neurotic in the process. But then, what would I know? I do not have a mobile phone.
On reflection, I do not think that I will travel to the UK after all, although given the inconvenience, costs of tests and what have you, if I was to go I would most likely go by small boat across the Channel, as thousands of illegal migrants can’t be wrong.
Stay young & avoid the vaccine
So, back to taking the vaccine, or not as the case may be.
It occurred to me that instead of taking any vaccine and exposing myself to any number of unknown, possibly critical and censored, adverse side-effects, I could try getting younger, as the incidence of coronavirus cases in the young is relatively low as is the risk of developing serious illness and dying from it.
But whilst the young may feel good about this now, unless they do as I am doing, which is getting younger, they too will eventually grow old, which is not advisable, given the depressing prediction that coronavirus may never go away. All of which points to the unsettling conclusion that growing old is becoming a far more risky business than it was and always has been.
After serious consideration, I think we could do worse than to take a leaf out of Charles Aznavour’s philosophical song book. Asked about ageing, the acclaimed singer/songwriter reputedly said, “There are some people who grow old and others [like me] who just add years.”
Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)
Article 14: Zatecky Gus Svetly
Published: 6 July 2021 ~ Zatecky Gus Svetly in Kaliningrad
With all this talk about the increasing incidence of coronavirus, deadly Delta variants, mandatory vaccinations and QR codes, what better time could there be for hightailing it into the churdak and hiding out with a bottle or two of peeva. If you cannot use a crisis as an excuse for drinking, what can you use?
I certainly felt the need to protect my mind from the doom, gloom and despondency that once again is doing the rounds and chose as my vaccine on this occasion a beer that is not really called ‘Fatty Guts’, although given the bizarre lengths to which brewers in the UK are willing to go to compete for offensive beer names, had it been the name of a UK beer I would hardly be surprised. I believe it was the Firkin pubs in London that kick started silly beer names back in the 1980s, and I remember only too well that Barker’s Dive Bar in Southwark served a very nice pint of ‘Bollock Twanger’ and another beer whose name was so rude that you whispered when you ordered it.
But Fatty Guts is neither a British beer or a beer brewed anywhere else ~ as far as I am aware!
The real name of the beer that is the subject of this review is part of the Baltika Breweries’ stable. It is brewed in St Petersburg and is called Zatecky Gus. You can see how easily it could be mistaken for something else. We will at last be respectful and refer to it by its full appellation, Zatecky Gus Svetly.
Zatecky Gus Svetly is a pilsner lager and as those of you who have been following my Bottled Beers in Kaliningrad reviews will know, I am no great fan of Pisner, sorry, I meant Pilsner. However, when you say that you are going to review as many bottled beers sold in the city’s supermarkets as you can, then you have to follow through. Actually, when I drink Pilsner the risk of … it doesn’t matter. Now, where was I. Ahh yes, Pilsner.
Zatecky Gus Svetly in Kaliningrad
Zatecky Gus is everywhere, so it was not difficult to pick up a bottle from my local supermarket. It cost me £1.29 for a 1.5 litre bottle, and I was happy with that.
It poured easily into my vintage Soviet beer glass ~ one of those manly types with a handle on the side. It poured pale golden and had a pale golden aroma, slightly hoppy, a bit aromatic. The process of decanting brought forth a light froth, eventually culminating in a medium head, which, although the lager itself has very little body, clings to the glass as you down it.
Some Pilsners are heavy, oily even, their high-calorie composition cunningly disguised by their light appearance and must-be-served-cold character, but Zatecky, I was relieved to find, is not one of these. In fact, it has a refreshing, sparkling nature, a commendable finish and a pleasing after taste.
Regrettably, taste in general is somewhat lacking, which is a mystery as I recall reading somewhere that Zatecky is brewed to a traditional recipe using a high-quality hop that has a dynastic reputation stretching back over 700 years.
I love antiques, but search for this as I might I could not find it, and whilst it would be disingenuous of me to write it off completely, I was left at the end of the bottle with a distinct sense of expecting and wanting more than this lager could deliver.
On a hot summer’s day, I have no doubt that refrigerated Zatecky would be better than an ice cube, but although it goes down like the Titanic, just don’t expect to travel first class.
😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS Name of Beer: Zatecky Gus Svetly Brewer: Baltika Breweries Where it is brewed: St Petersburg, Russia Bottle capacity: 1.5 litres Strength: 4.6% Price: It cost me about 131 rubles (£1.29) Appearance: Pale golden Aroma: Yes, just about Taste: Not much, but it is refreshing Fizz amplitude: 6/10 Label/Marketing: Traditionalist ~ sort of Would you buy it again? I have bought about 3 bottles Marks out of 10: 5.5+
*Note that the beers that feature in this review series only include bottled beer types that are routinely sold through supermarket outlets and in no way reflect the variety of beer and/or quality available in Kaliningrad from speciality outlets and/or through bars and restaurants.
Appraising the restoration of an architectural delight
Published: 1 July 2021
Back in February 2020, I felt compelled to flag one of my favourite historical buildings in the Baltic resort of Svetlogorsk, the former German town of Rauschen. At the time of writing, this superb example of neo-Gothic architecture was exhibiting signs of year-on-year neglect, having stood empty for almost two decades, and whilst its shabbiness combined with the Romanticist style in which it is built and embellished lent it a more than passing air of Hitchcockianism, it was evident that unless remedial action was taken, and taken soon, catastrophe would ensue.
A Gothic favourite of Svetlogorsk revisited
Gratifying it was, therefore, to discover on a recent trip to Svetlogorsk that the initiative had been taken, money had been invested and this architectural icon had been rescued from extinction.
Admittedly, the sunny yellow paintwork, new roof and the homely inclusion of window boxes in full bloom have diminished the prospect of the Castle of Otranto, but since Svetlogorsk is prone to the odd thunderstorm or two, all that is needed are a few circling bats and one or two long flowing cloaks and imagination is back in business.
Even without these props, the Gothic allure shines through. Revivalist architecture of this period (c.1920s) demonstrates the extent to which it is possible to achieve ‘imposing’ without descending headlong into the unforgivable maelstrom of conspicuous consumption and glitz. Granted, the house is bold and arresting but not in a way that exposes it to accusations of show and pretentiousness. Even its salient feature, the striking square-section turret with ornamented pinnacle, evades such criticism, for whilst it embodies magnificence, the visual impression, as immediate and memorable as it is, is not, depending on the observer’s susceptibility, neither as lasting nor profound in its simpler evocation as the literary and folk-lore associations that cumulatively manifest when observing it from different angles, on different occasions throughout the year.
A Gothic favourite of Svetlogorsk revisited
When you are next in Svetlogorsk, stop a while to observe, engage and enjoy this venerable building. A few yards more and you will arrive at yet another Rauschen/Svetlogorsk gem, this being the Hartman Hotel, a sensitively restored hostelry whose delights you can savour over good food and a bevvy or two whilst relaxing on the hotel terrace.
Containing an appraisal of Art Village Vitland 8 January 2026 – Art Village Vitland: beautiful beachfront on the Baltic I was no stranger to this track; to call it a road would be too complimentary. I had walked it once before, but, on the last occasion of doing so, the going had been dry underfoot,… Read more: Art Village Vitland: beautiful beachfront on the Baltic
A day out at the Baltic Coast 28 August 2025 – My Special Day Out in Svetlogorsk by Mick Hart Don’t you just hate it when you mislay something? It’s so frustrating, isn’t it? This year I have had trouble remembering what I’ve done with summer. I recall someone saying, “Hooray, summer is here!”, and… Read more: My Special Day Out in Svetlogorsk by Mick Hart
It’s quite simple, really: If you love marzipan, this is where to go 23 January 2025 ~ Resort Shop Zelenogradsk a Must for Marzipan The reason why many people have never heard of Königsberg is that in 1945 it ceased to exist. Very few people make the connection between the Königsberg that was and the… Read more: Resort Shop Zelenogradsk a Must for Marzipan
Over the wire the buzz word is Telegraph 25 October 2024 ~ Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk Wired for Quality “It’s all so confusing,” so says a friend of mine and quite often. He’s a scientist, now retired, so he should know. And he’s referring to life. When I echo his sentiments, “It’s all so confusing,” he… Read more: Telegraph Restaurant Zelenogradsk Wired for Quality
Bussing it around the Kaliningrad region 31 July 2024 ~ See Kaliningrad Region by Coach What is it about coach-based tours that have long been unappealing to me? And, if I faithfully eschewed them in the UK, why would I volunteer to go on one, here, in Kaliningrad? Well, I certainly had the means, the… Read more: See Kaliningrad Region by Coach
To learn on the same day Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte vowed that he would track down all those who refused the vaccine and inject them in the arse that the word ‘mandatory’ had emerged in Russia relating to the vaccine was arguably not the most auspicious timing possible.
Whilst I have no difficulty imagining these measures being adopted in the UK without much, if any, opposition ~ picture hordes (yes, I said, hordes) of young men dressed only in rainbow underpants skipping, not very fast, through Nob-butts Garden Centre, hotly pursued by several masked and white-coated gentlemen (two looking suspiciously like Matt Hancock and Fauci) with their syringes in their hands ~ the thought of something similar happening here, in Russia, just does not bare arsing about!
Imagine being chased through the tangled undergrowth of the lonely Russian countryside (where, incidentally, the lupins are gorgeous at this time of year) by five burly Russian men in paramilitary uniforms; chased until you cannot go on anymore (you can, but you won’t!); and then it happens ~ one of them brings you to the ground with a rugby tackle and, before you can say Bill Gates, its pants down, vaccination administered!
Well, it probably won’t come to this after all, as, according to The Moscow Times1, the term ‘mandatory’ is defined like this:
“Though vaccination remains voluntary for Russians, service workers face losing their jobs if they decide not to have the jab.”
The same article states:
“From June 28, all Moscow cafes and restaurants will only serve customers who have been vaccinated, had Covid-19 in the past six months or present a negative test taken within the past 78 hours.”
AP News2 reported that 18 Russian regions had made vaccinations mandatory for employees in certain sectors and listed government offices, retail, health care, education, restaurants and other service industries.
Meanwhile in Kaliningrad, a local news report today states that
“in the Kaliningrad region, mandatory vaccination was announced for officials and workers in several areas – trade, catering, transport services, education. By August 20, at least 60% of employees must be vaccinated. Now in the region more than 140 thousand people have been vaccinated with the first component.”3
So, it does look like being chased around the House of Soviets is not an option. Perhaps it is time to put away those running shoes and roll your sleeves up after all!
Willie & Greta Hartmann may still be drinking tea on the hotel terrace …
Published: 27 June 2021 ~ The Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk reviewed by Mick Hart
I often wondered what was going on behind the plastic sheets and scaffolding, which, it seemed to me, had been there for years, and then, in the winter of 2020, the sheeting was removed and there stood this immaculately renovated building bearing the name Hartman Hotel.
As a portion of the hotel’s name was synonymous with mine, ‘Hart’, the prospect of not having my photo taken standing next to it was inconceivable. My wife would later use this photograph to create a Facebook post, the implication being that this latest addition to the Svetlogorsk hotel portfolio was under my ownership. How does the expression go? You wish!!
The Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk ~ a brief history The Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk, is the modern successor to the Hartmann Hotel, Rauschen, which itself succeeded the Waldesrand (Forest Edge). The Waldesrand began life in 1910 at a time when the small Prussian town of Rauschen, nestled on the Baltic Coast, was renowned as a spar resort and revered for the health-restoring properties of its fresh sea and pine-tree woodland air.
The name Hartmann was given to the hotel after its new owner, Willie Hartmann, acquired it in the 1920s. When it re-opened in 1925, it incorporated a restaurant, had undergone various interior improvements and had been remodelled as a year-round venue.
Willie Hartmann and his wife, Greta, took great pride in the running and the reputation of their new venture, and it was not long before Hotel Hartmann became a firm favourite, attracting people from far and wide as well as local dignitaries.
When the Second World War changed the course of history, the Hartmanns were forced to abandon their treasured home and business. Fate was kind to them in that they survived the war, resettled and continued to work in the hotel trade, but in 1945 Rauschen officially died and with it the Hartmann Hotel.
Destiny, however, has a strange way of intervening, sometimes in ways that are least expected. Who would have thought, for example, that 76 years after the war, through all the vicissitudes of change and temporality that it inflicted, not only would a hotel faithfully replicated upon the designs of its predecessor rise phoenix-like from the ashes of time but also would be restored to the standards of its former self and revived to bear the name of its most successful owner?
The answer, Willie Hartmann: “War is not eternal,” he told his wife, “… a hotel will always be needed … our grandchildren will still drink tea on the terrace of this hotel!”
What he meant by that in relation to the outcome of the war is a moot point. In early 2020, the descendants of Willie Hartmann discovered by chance whilst surfing on the net that their grandfather’s hotel had been restored, resurrected and eponymously named.
They wrote a heartfelt letter of thanks to the new owners, acknowledging their sensitivity to and appreciation of the hotel’s place in the history of the region, recognising that the new owners could quite easily have taken much of the hard work out of their new project by limiting the conversion to a simple contemporary makeover.
The extent to which the hotel’s exterior resembles that of its predecessor is clearly demonstrated by comparing our photographs, taken in 2021, with those taken in the 1920s, which appear in a booklet thoughtfully commissioned by the hotel’s new owners and devoted to the hotel’s history for the edification of guests and visitors.
The Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk
My first encounter with the new Hartman (we shall, out of respect, continue to spell it the old German way, Hartmann), that is when the building resembled what it used to be and not a building site, occurred in winter 2020.
With its little red-lamp-shaded lights casting a warm glow through its restaurant windows, I was all for going in, but as we were short on time, and with my wife knowing from years of experience that once in a cosy licensed premises it would be difficult to get me out, we would have to wait until the early summer of 2021 before this avenue of pleasure could be properly explored.
The day that we had chosen to visit Svetlogorsk in mid-June was a hot one, and, unbeknown to us, it was a public holiday (there are many and they are hard to keep track of here!) Consequently, our train was packed, and when we got out I had never seen so many people in Svetlogorsk. It was, to use the vernacular, ‘rammed’.
We had planned to walk to the promenade and have lunch on one of the hotel or restaurant terraces overlooking the sea, but Svetlogorsk’s tourist invasion required evasive action. Almost at once and together we remembered the Hartmann Hotel and how stylish it had looked. It was old, had been restored and had an air of 1930s’ gentility; in other words, it was our sort of place. We would not be disappointed.
We could quite easily have been disappointed, however, since, whilst there were less people away from the front, the terrace at the Hartmann was not short of patrons. Fortunately for us, we had timed it right. On the way I had paused to take stock of my favourite Rauschen building, recently renovated to a high and attractive standard, and by doing so we arrived at the Hartmann just as a table came vacant.
The Hartmann, which is appealing enough in its own right, has added a touch of swish to pull the punters in. Last winter it had a 1930s’ style motor vehicle parked on the forecourt; now, it has a bright red and sparkling-chrome classic MG convertible.
Front entrance to the Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk
In the era of Visual Blitz, induced and exploited by Facebook and other social media, who could resist having their photograph taken next to such a swanky automobile parked out front of such a tasteful hotel? Certainly not my wife. Olga, given her Facebook obsession, was predictably one of the least resisting, and several photographs had to be taken before I could get down to the serious business of sampling the beer.
The Hartman Hotel Svetlogorsk
Having struck lucky with our seats, our pride of place position gave us a good view of the hotel’s revived façade.
This was one of those marvellous, old German/Prussian buildings of inverted breakfront design, where flanking end sections project from the middle plane, thus recessing the central component. The orange-red brickwork that forms the window arches, cornerstones and lateral-running decoration are picked out pleasingly against the white painted background, perfectly in keeping with the architectural style of the late 19th early 20th century. The windows, are, of course, double-glazed units, but in order to conform as far as possible with the shape and impression of the more intricate design contemporary to the Hartmann era, they are predominantly curved in form, made up of sections separated by vertical and horizontal struts and with narrow vertical strips in the upper lights intended to resemble the more elaborate wooden frameworks of earlier periods. The rectangular casements in the upper storey are not a deviation. On the contrary, as the photograph of the hotel front taken in the Hartmann era shows, they replicate the original pattern, as does the long, central balcony and decorative half-timbered fretwork.
The Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk, celebrates its past
The front door with its copper, curved awning and embossed/carved detail is, I imagine, a lot more elaborate than the original Hartmann entrance would have been, but whomsoever chose it deserves top marks for gilding the lily that is the most deserving.
Standing next to this door of doors, at least on the day that we were there, in addition to two potted shrubs, was a fully-fledged doorman in complete vintage doorman regalia, his burgundy sleeveless tunic, conforming tilt hat and twin rows of silver buttons harmonising splendidly with the MG’s polished red livery and dazzling chrome work.
The Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk, doorman
Like many things, hotel observation can be thirsty work, and it was hooray when the beer arrived! As a vegetarian, and a simple food one at that, I do not feel that I am really qualified to comment on the quality of our meal, except to say that my salad was good enough. My wife settled for a good old honest portion of fish and chips but discovered that this was no ordinary plateful: traditional cod had been mixed with tasty salmon! For liquid refreshment Olga had a couple of glasses of wine, and I had two German beers. The tab came to about £20, which we thought was reasonable.
During our time at the Hartmann, the hotel staff were attentive and approachable and the service friendly and good. In fact, we were so taken with it all that although we live only a relatively short bus or train ride from the coast, we decided to take the plunge and book in for a night the following week, which would give us a chance to sample the hotel interior (and, naturally, more beers) and to take a few photos for the post I had planned.
Mick Hart & Olga Hart at the Hartman Hotel
Our overnight stay at the Hartman Hotel, Svetlogorsk
Check in at the Hartmann Hotel is officially 2pm. We arrived early, but this was no problem as the helpful receptionist stowed our overnight bag behind a closed door in a luggage area opposite the lobby desk.
When we had inquired about the possibility of taking a room last week, we had been told that the hotel was fully booked. This encouraged us to take the one room that was vacant, which was a family room, which we would have taken anyway as the extra space and additional seating that this type of room provides is always welcome. For a family room we had to fork out £80, which is not as budget friendly as some hotels in the region, but we were not unhappy considering the standard and ambience.
Room number 23 opens out into one of the end extensions of the building. The large arched window combinations to the front and one at either side makes this a particularly light, airy and pleasant space. It contains a bed-settee, two open armchairs, coffee table and second, wider screen TV.
The room itself is sensitively decorated. Although a dark-wood Gothic man myself, I had no quarrel with the light and pastel colours in this particular setting. The room’s facilities are modern and equipped to a high standard ~ it even has its own iron and ironing board, which is an absolute necessity for keeping one’s cravat in tip-top shape!
To enable en suite conditions, the combined shower room and W.C. has to occupy quite a narrow space, but this has been achieved with zero inconvenience. Necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention, and I was, and still am, in awe, as to how they managed to design this room to maximise space and sacrifice nothing.
The room’s door-locking system is one that Willie Hartmann and his wife, not to mention his 1920s’ guests, would find novel and entertaining. It is one of those electronic touch-card jobs, the card also doubling as an electricity activation key once inside the room. Me to the porter, trying not to look as if I was a backdated key user: “How do you work this?” And then when he’d shown me: “Ah, I wondered if you knew!”
These little plastic cards are all well and good, but since they negate the need to physically shut the door, turn the handle and use a key, early rising guests tend to let the door go slam as they toddle off to breakfast, which is a bit disconcerting if you are still in bed biding your time with a hangover. Jim Reeves: ‘I hear the sound of not-so-distant drums!’ Not a criticism, but perhaps some calibrated door-closers?
The Hartmann Hotel’s dining room, located on the ground floor opposite reception, also doubles as a restaurant that admits non-residents. We were out on the town in the evening, so we did not become acquainted with it until breakfast the following morning, whereupon it received immediately the Egon Harty seal of approval.
Breakfast was not wanting in any respect. The choice of food on offer, which is included in the tariff, is wide and varied, and you help yourself to what you want and as much as you want (always a dangerous option when my brother is around; I’ve lost count of the number of restaurants and hotels that almost went out of business when he discovered the invitation ‘eat as much as you like’).
Another bonus was that since it was a warm, sunny morning, we were able to take our breakfast and dine a la carte on the hotel terrace.
The Hartmann Hotel’s website states that Willie Hartmann and his staff laid great store on providing not just excellent service but service with a smile. When you are working with the public (and remember, we know, because we once ran an antiques emporium), remaining cool, calm, collected ~ and, in the hospitality trade, most essentially cordial ~ takes a certain kind of person and a certain kind of skill. I must confess that I never did quite get the hang of this and ran our antiques emporium as if I was Basil Fawlty!
Fortunately, or by careful choice, today’s Hartmann management can boast that its team possesses all the qualities that Willie Hartmann would have expected from his team. Without exception, everyone with whom we came into contact was cheerful, good humoured and helpful. The Hartmann service could not be better!
When it wasn’t the Hartmann or Hartman
It had taken me a while to remember what the Hartmann had been when I first came to Svetlogorsk twenty-one years ago. And then, suddenly, it flashed into my mind, or rather a giant bear skin did!
As I recall, in the left front-extension of the building, there had been a small, two-roomed bar, access to which was only available by crossing a rubble-filled patch of waste ground, the present location of the Hartmann terrace, and then by going through a side door located where the side door is today.
This bar was as basic as basic; it sold tea, vodka and very little else and had a big, flat, sad-looking bear nailed to the wall. As far as I can remember, the rest of the building was in a fallen-on-hard-times state, possibly no longer used and desperately in need of the kind of tender loving care which, thankfully, come the second decade of the 21st century it eventually would be blessed with.
I would not imagine that any reference to Hartmann existed then, but today the name is proudly sign written above the front entrance and on the gable end of the building; the letter ‘H’ appears on all the Art Noveau stylised lamps; and there is an even an ‘H’ incorporated within the embossed panel on the front door.
Inside, the Hartmanns are acknowledged again, with pictorial representations of their faces heading up an acrylic wall board on which an illustrated map featuring the Hartmann hotel in relation to surrounding tourist sights, the coastline and the sea creates an attractive display.
And, in the small seating area that extends from the reception, stands a glass-topped coffee table containing assorted memorabilia from the time when Willie Hartmann and his wife, Greta, ran the hotel. These include monogrammed silver cutlery, an original monogrammed cup and saucer and other period items all resting on a lace tablecloth contemporaneous to the Hartmann’s tenure.
Items from Hartmann’s original hotel include a restaurant menu
Airport transfers You can book a transfer from Khrabrov airport, and back if required, by telephoning the main reception desk: 8 (4012) 270-204 Regular transfer (minivan Hyundai H-1) – 2,000 rubles (approx. £19.90): one way VIP transfer (Lexus LX570) – 3,500 rubles (approx. £34.84): one way
Published: 17 June 2021 ~ Vaccination Rollout is not Russian but World Roulette
My sister wrote to me today from England and at the close of her letter asked, and I quote, “Just to touch on the most current topic … How is the [vaccination] ‘roll-out’ going in Russia?”
The answer that immediately sprang to mind was, I don’t know.
Vaccination Rollout is not Russian but World Roulette
The reaction to and media coverage of coronavirus in the UK is world’s apart from its counterparts in Russia. Even making allowances for the fact that we do not have broadcast TV and that I rarely read the news on the internet, my wife is an inveterate Facebook twiddler so news filters through to me, whether I want it or not.
One thing is certain: There is less hysteria here in Russia, both in respect of media coverage and the reaction of the populace to coronavirus. True, my wife reads news clips on Facebook, but she is more concerned with the ambiguities, ambivalence, seeming double-talk, twists, U-turns and general, what might be scientifically referred to as, arse-about-face of it all than she is in who has had their first or their 55th jab, the proclamations of new strains and dire warnings of further mutations. She is diehard ‘anti-maskee’ and is always quoting, whenever I mention the vaccine, that never in the history of the world have governments embarked upon a global vaccination programme such as the one they have launched in the name of addressing Covid-19, which she finds suspicious, and she is more concerned with the impact that never-ending social distancing, lockdowns, isolation and general fearmongering is having on the psychological health and wellbeing of millions of people robbed of their need of personal and social interconnection, which in her philosophy is both the essence and hub of human existence.
It was she who sent me the following video link (after twenty-one years of marriage communicating by email is more popular than you might think!), telling me to listen to “what your favourite person [Katie Hopkins] has to say”: https://youtu.be/qQV1Ww9QGmU
It is not that my good lady wife disbelieves the existence of coronavirus or the potential of it pernicious effects, simply that she like many others questions the efficacy of the measures imposed upon us by ‘those in the know’ and like a lot of us is none too comfortable with the gold-rush mentality to be injected with something that has not been tested according to the usual standard protocols. In discussions on the subject, she likes to remind me that I was one of those who casually opined that come the vaccine come the silver bullet, whereas we now know ~ or rather are now told ~ that nothing much has changed and possibly will not change until 2023/24 and perhaps not even ever.
An article published by Elsevier1 supports my wife’s criticism of me, the commentary clearly stating that ‘Vaccines are not yet a silver bullet’. And yet, I quote from the same article [my emphasis], “In other words, to help societies avoid transmission vectors and start imagining the “new normal”, continued communication about the need for face masks, personal hygiene, and social distancing is of instrumental importance.”
As I understand it, however, in the UK the new normal is resulting in a great deal of new suffering ~ psychological, physical and emotional ~ by those whose livelihoods are threatened, whose businesses are going under and many more who, because of coronavirus prioritisation, are finding that they are unable to gain access to the vital healthcare that they need if they are to survive existing illnesses, regardless of whether they get coronavirus or not.
Whilst controversy over the fallout from coronavirus restriction rules is buzzing around on social media as if someone has kicked the hive, a large vacuous hole continues to exist both in media spaces and authoritative places. Without answers, there are only rules; and rules without answers are there to be questioned, challenged and even ignored.
Nevertheless, my sister’s comment about the ‘most current topic’ had left me feeling out of the loop, so I turned for the answer in the pages of The Moscow Times2. Well, why not, for a change!
Accessed on the 17 June 2021, under the headline Coronavirus in Russia: The Latest News | June 17, here is my update:
~ Russia has confirmed 5,264,047 cases of coronavirus and 127,992 deaths, according to the national coronavirus information center. Russia’s total excess fatality count since the start of the coronavirus pandemic is around 475,000.
~ Russia on Thursday confirmed 14,057 new coronavirus cases and 416 deaths. Of today’s cases, 6,195 are in Moscow.
~ Moscow Mayor Sergei Sobyanin on Wednesday announced mandatory vaccination for service sector workers, saying the measure is necessary as the city grapples with 12,000 hospitalized Covid-19 patients and levels of illness equal to last year’s peaks.
And there is more about closing bars and restaurants early and working from home.
But that is Moscow. What of Kaliningrad, where we live (I last checked about 12 weeks ago!). Here is today’s update3:
~ In the Kaliningrad region, 80 new cases of coronavirus were detected. The total number of infected reached 34 694.
~ 56 patients were diagnosed with ARVI, 15 with pneumonia. Nine more had no symptoms.
~ During the day in the region, 73 patients were discharged from hospitals after recovery. Since the beginning of the pandemic, 33,525 people have recovered, 538 have died.
So there you have it!
I think that the ‘most current topic’, as my sister refers to coronavirus and the issue of vaccination, is, like a lot of other things, evaluated in a markedly different way by the Russian population compared to the mindset in the West.
As usual, would-be pundits in the West are seemingly confused about why the take-up of the Covid-19 vaccine is not steaming along at full tilt as it is in countries like the USA and UK. I say, ‘as usual, because the inability of western Europeans to understand anything Russian, or to assume that they do not, is not a new phenomenon (understatement intended). Take a look at the screenprint (you may have to magnify the image) that I have included in this post, which returns from the Google search ‘vaccination in Russia’ [accessed 16 June 2021]:
In the circles in which we move in Kaliningrad, there is a lot to be said for my wife’s theory that people tend to judge the coronavirus situation, and personally react to it, depending on what is happening closest to them. In other words, each individual weighs up the pros and cons of the restrictions and vaccine-taking depending on how many people they know who have had a mild attack of the virus, a serious attack, how many people they know who have died as a direct result of contracting coronavirus and how many people they know who have not been infected at all, and then they act accordingly. In the UK, mass opinion is mobilised, and large swathes of people motivated, by what politicians tell them to do and by the national media’s complicity to bring about a desired result by whatever means it has and whatever it takes ~ and it does not take much.
On the wearing of masks, for example, here I have heard it said that most people who wear them, wear them to avoid a fine rather than give credence to the unproven science of their latent life-saving properties, which is possibly why most people wear them with their nose poking out or as under-chin accessories. In the UK, however, whilst some people wear masks for the same reason and in the same way, the majority of mask wearers wear them purely because they are told to do so. In the UK, compliance is king.
On the slow take-up of vaccination in Russia, as you can see from the following screen grab (you may need to magnify), which returns from the Google search ‘vaccination in Russia’ [accessed 16 June 2021], western media is more than happy to tie Russian vaccination reluctance to their efforts to discredit the Sputnik V Covid-19 vaccine, which resulted from a fit of pique when Russia won the ‘vaccine race’.
My take on the low uptake from people I have asked is that no such specificity exists. It is not that the Russian people are crying out for western vaccines, just that they are more individualistic and selective in their approach to the whole question of vaccination safety and efficacy. I mean after the latest revelations about the AtsraZeneca vaccine4 …
Let’s face it folks, life is a roulette wheel. Whether the vaccine is running around inside you or not, until they finish those vaccine trials, which will not happen before 2023 or 2024 earliest, it is still a game of chance. So, fingers crossed.
“Я не хочу хвастаться, но мы пришли к финишу вторыми и отстали от победителя гонки всего лишь на несколько секунд!
Published: 13 June 2021 ~ Калининград Винтажралли Восток-Запад
Мы только что съехали с ухабистой, изрытой выбоинами проселочной дороги и снова выехали на главную магистраль. Наш водитель сдал назад.
“В современной машине такие повороты в порядке вещей, – сказал он, – но для этой машины, у которой высокая посадка, это может быть опасно. Видите ли, она легко может …”
Он остановился, когда мы свернули на крутой поворот.
“… легко перевернуться.”
Речь шла о машине 1956 года выпуска ГАЗ-М20 “Победа”. В машине имелись: коробка переключения скоростей, переднее сиденье, состоящее из двух частей, ветровое стекло, отделка под дерево, большие рабочие часы, кнопка индикатора движения в верхней центральной части приборной панели, небольшие боковые вентиляционные окна на передних пассажирских дверях и солнцезащитные откидные щитки. В машине также присутствовал ее владелец-водитель по имени Юрий Грозмани, а также я и моя жена Ольга.
Yuri Grozmarni, Olga Hart & Mick Hart: Калининград Винтажралли Восток-Запад 2021
Причина, по которой мы находились в автомобиле, внимательно следя за временем и неотрывно сверяясь с навигационными картами, заключалась в том, что мы принимали участие в первом региональном ралли ретро-автомобилей калининградского автоклуба.
Калининград Винтажралли Восток-Запад 2021
Мы стартовали с приподнятой платформы для автомобилей ровно в 13.21. Тщательно рассчитанное время нашего путешествия от начала до конца составляло один час десять минут, не больше, не меньше – от фасада Кенигсбергского собора до Гвардейска. Все было рассчитано буквально до секунды. На пути было два контрольно-пропускных пункта, и прибытие на эти контрольно-пропускные пункты должно было точно совпадать с назначенным временем прибытия. Если вы опаздывали, вам нужно было жать ногой на акселератор; если же вы опережали время, вам нужно было убирать ногу с газа и выжидать время. Юрий был за рулем, я был штурманом, Ольга стала импровизированным вторым пилотом, сверяя показания времени на каждом этапе гонки со временем в её мобильном телефоне.
Для тех, у кого есть хотя бы элементарное понимание и умение читать карты, эта навигация стала бы пустяком, и даже для меня , у которого нет ни понимания, ни умения этого делать, не составило труда установить связь между четкими линиями с их символами в квадратах, а также с ориентирами и с их направлениями, и понять куда нам нужно было двигаться. Навигационные карты были составлены так просто, чтобы любой школьник смог ими воспользоваться. На каждой странице была таблица, разделенная на три части. В первой колонке отмечено время, которое должно пройти от линии старта до прибытия в определенную точку пути, во второй колонке-простая, но четкая иллюстрация поворота или полосы движения, а в третьей колонке дополнительная информация, которая могла оказаться полезной, например, имя населенного пункта на указателе.
Навигационные карты Калининградского ралли старинных автомобилей 2021 года
Вскоре я освоился с навигацией; жаль, что у меня это не получилось, когда дело дошло до сверки времени. Ни я ни Ольга, в школе не получили никаких наград по математике, мы даже призов не получили, и поэтому с первого запроса от водителя с требованием сколько времени осталось до первого контрольного пункта мы оба были в замешательстве. Расчетное время прибытия на первый контрольно-пропускной пункт составляло 31 минуту, и нам было трудно вычислить, сколько нам осталось времени с учетом пройденного маршрута. После того, как мы показали себя не с лучшей стороны, Юрий вмешался, и мы оба в конце концов согласились, что он был прав, мы не знали был ли он прав или не был так как подсчитать время мы так и не сумели.
Мик Харт, Ольга Харт и Юрий Грозманиавтомобиль “Победа” 1956 год Калининград
Сегодня в Калининграде движение было не особенно интенсивным. У нас выдалось несколько напряженных моментов, когда мы свернули с однойглавной дороги на другую, особенно на дороге в непосредственной близости от стадиона, где проходил Чемпионата мира по футболу в Калининграде, но как только мы выехали на открытую дорогу, “Победа” рванулась вперед, как и подобает такому первоклассному автомобилю.
Мы сверили время и обнаружили, что несмотря на относительно удачный старт мы отстали от графика на несколько минут. Юрий нажал на газ. Через несколько минут мы сверили время опять и обнаружили, что, хотя мы ехали быстрее, время все же обгоняло нас. А потом появилась проселочная дорога, ведущая к первому контрольно-пропускному пункту.
“Победа” сошла с конвейера в 1946 году и в течение последующих трех лет претерпела ряд усовершенствований. Среди улучшенных, в 1949 году, новшеств “Победы” стала ее “подвеска для всех местностей”, и на этом участке дороги Юрий испытал ее. 64-летняя машина показала на что она способна, подвеска и губчатые сиденья оказались более чем подходящими для алгоритма отскока, позволяя нам наслаждаться особенно привлекательным видом из окна – сельской местностью, изрезанной холмами, впадинами, озерами и живописными старыми немецкими зданиями.
Внезапно в поле зрения замаячил первый контрольно-пропускной пункт. И знаете что произошло? Мы опередили график на 60 секунд! Юрий остался невозмутимым; с темпераментом опытного танцора, он ослабил упор ноги и доставил нас на пункт назначения секунда в секунду! Зарегистрировавшись на контрольно-пропускном пункте, мы снова отправились в путь.
Мы опять поспорили о том, сколько времени у нас осталось до того, как мы должны прибыть на следующий контрольно-пропускной пункт. Где-то что-то было не так. Но я отказываюсь выяснять кто был прав, и кто неправ! Выяснилось, что между первым и вторым контрольно-пропускными пунктами у нас было всего семь минут, очень немного времени для того чтобы расслабиться. Мы думали, что не успеваем, но на самом деле мы опережали.
Калининградское ралли старинных автомобилей 2021 года. Приборная панель “Победа” 1956 года выпуска
Прямо перед нами стояли две “Волги”, выехавшие из Кенигсберга раньше нас. Они обе свернули с дороги, вероятно, потому, что тоже опережали график, но, увидев нас поехали вперед.
На втором контрольно-пропускном пункте требовалось въехать во двор, сделать отметку в карточке, а затем снова выехать на дорогу. Машина впереди развернулась, но мы с Юрием сумели ее подрезать на контрольно-пропускном пункте. Я уверен, что это было сделано из хорошего намерения, но все же, нам ответили сигналом гудка.
Мы снова помчались вперед и у нас оставалось около 25 минут, чтобы добраться до финишной черты в Гвардейске. Гвардейск-небольшой городок с большой площадью, что делает его идеальным местом для проведения подобных мероприятий. В последний раз мы были здесь с моим младшим братом летом 2019 года с Авто Ретро-клубом, участвуя в международном фестивале “Золотая тень Кенигсберга”.
Нам с Ольгой нравится этот город. Он хорошо спланирован, имеет сбалансированную пропорцию немецкого и советского происхождения, несколько прекрасных старых готических зданий, музеи,специализированный сырный магазин, и в нем можно совершить прогулку вдоль живописного берега реки. Сегодня мы буквально не теряли времени, добираясь сюда, и нам пришлось помедлить, чтобы выждать несколько минут, прежде чем заехать на городскую площадь под шум ликующей толпы, музыку и щелканье камер.
Как только мы приехали, молодая дама преподнесла нам с Ольгой подарок. Это был большой круглый пирог с абрикосовым джемом, только что испеченный и еще теплый из духовки. Такие добрые жесты не остаются незамеченными.
Мику Харту подарили большой пирог в Гвардейске, Калининградская область. Юрий Грозмани и Мик Харт с большим пирогом Калининградское ралли винтажных автомобилей 2021
Так как мы живем в эпоху смартфонов, ФБ и блицкрига изображений, то нет нужды говорить, o том что не было никаких ограничений на количество фотографий, сделанных сначала на камеру одного человека, а затем на камеру другого, а затем с этими людьми, а затем с теми. Мы с Ольгой решили проветрить винтажную одежду, так что это была еще одна причина для того, чтобы иметь дело с папарацци. Однако мы все же нашли время ускользнуть.
Май 2021 года: Винтажные автомобили Калининградского Авто Ретро-клуба выстраиваются в линию в Гвардейске ~ Калининград Винтажралли Восток-Запад
Первым пунктом посещения был общественный туалет. Я странный, поэтому мне нравится использовать общественный туалет а Гвардейске. Для меня это настоящий советский опыт: спуститься по узкой лестнице, заплатить бабушке, сидящей на самодельном стуле-троне внизу, а затем повернуть направо в самодельный тронный зал. Я не могу представить себе ни одной поездки в Гвардейск без использования или, по крайней мере, посещения этого заведения.
Теперь пришло время для расслабляющей прогулки по городу, осмотра достопримечательностей, посещения сырного магазина и посиделок в старом дворе кошачьего заповедника, чтобы перекусить, любуясь иллюстрациями кошек и старинной немецкой атмосферой этого уединенного места.
У нас было даже больше свободного времени, чем мы себе представляли, поэтому я успел угостить себя мороженым, не больше, не меньше – с названием ‘CCCP’!
Когда мы вернулись на площадь, нас ждали желающие сфотографироваться. Именно здесь молодая женщина спросила, можно ли ей сфотографироваться с нами. Оказалось, что она хорошо владеет английским языком, и в процессе беседы она призналась, что мечтает уехать в Америку. Когда моя жена спросила, почему, она подумала, а потом сказала:
“Американская мечта”.
Мы ничего не сказали. Я помню, как Леонард Коэн сказал: “Но ты не хочешь лгать, только не молодым”. Кроме того, эта молодая женщина, должно быть, была либо чрезвычайно проницательна, либо она забыла надеть очки, так как она сказала, что я выглядел “красивым”. Ревновала ли моя жена? Я думаю, что эта реплика ее позабавила!
Перед тем как мы покинули Кенигсбергский собор, Юрий поднял красный флаг, сообщив нам, что у его машины возникли проблемы с системой охлаждения, но пока все хорошо: нет необходимости доливать воду. Однако незадолго до того, как мы покинули финишную черту, он наполнил бак топливом, и я был заинтригован, увидев, что он может проверить, сколько в баке, используя небольшой тестер, который он хранил в багажнике.
Мы покинули Гвардейск колонной с полицейским эскортом – от площади до границы города и под фанфары, еще более восторженные, чем те, что приветствовали нас по приезду. Старинные автомобили, похоже, оказывают такое воздействие на людей, вызывая уважение, любовь и удовольствие. Многие люди стоят на обочине дороги, фотографируя их на свои телефоны и снимая видео; люди в машинах сигналят и машут, когда проезжают мимо. Это прекрасно!
Сегодня, на обратном пути в Калининград, мы проезжали замок Вальдау, дорога к которому проходит параллельно главной магистрали, и когда мы откинулись на спинку сиденья, повернувшись лицом к дороге, по которой мы ехали, нам открылось великолепнейшее зрелище: машины клуба образовали длинную непрерывную процессию, полированный хром и краска блестели в лучах послеполуденного солнца, а автомобильные флаги с названием и логотипом клуба великолепно развевались на ветру.
К сожалению, замок Вальдау сегодня будет только проездом, но не успели мы въехать на его территорию, как я почувствовал ощущение де жавю. Это было так глубоко, волнующе и органично, что этот знакомый призыв из давно минувших дней захватил меня полностью. Ольга была того же мнения, и поэтому выразила неудовольствие, когда обнаружила, что сегодня нет времени для дальнейшего осмотра территории. “Мы вернемся!” – утверждала она, продолжая ворчать на меня Юрию за то, что он ”никогда никуда не хочет идти … просто сидит на чердаке и пишет”. Как человек, которому журналистика не чужда, я знал, что Юрий меня поймет.
Автомобили Авто Ретро Клуба в Замке Валдау ~ Калининградское ралли Винтажных автомобилей 2021
Территория перед замком Вальдау не такая обширная, как можно было бы ожидать, на самом деле она похожа на рощу, образуя центральный остров из деревьев и травы, с дорогой идущей внутрь и тропинкой на противоположной стороне. Подъездная дорожка расширяется перед зданием, и по мере того, как машины одна за другой и очень медленно въезжали на эту более широкую территорию, группа из пяти дам, выстроившихся в дверях замка, приветствовала их, махала руками и смеялась, когда каждая машина проезжала мимо. Эта веселая группа была одета в прусском стиле и играла свою роль так убедительно и с такой искренностью что когда каждая машина сворачивала за угол, пассажиры были поражены искренностью этого приветствия. Их искренность освещала лица, как будто кто-то превратил их лица в человеческие фонари. Никто, кроме президента клуба, Артура, который метался, пытаясь вместить слишком много машин в недостаточно большое пространство, и явно преуспевал в этом деле, не остался непосвященным. Веселье было заразительным и распространялось, как стремительный лесной пожар. Даже внушительное готическое здание не могло изобразить неодобрения, здесь было так много веселья, даже больше чем веселье, как будто к вам во всех нужных местах прикасалась Молл Фландерс.
Сотрудники в традиционных прусских костюмах приветствуют старинные советские автомобили в замке Валдау, Калининградская областьМик Харт и Ольга Харт с сотрудниками замка Вальдау 29 мая 2021 года
От замка вереница разъехалась, и каждая машина отправилась по своему предпочтительному маршруту обратно к Кенигсбергскому собору, чтобы снова встретится у входа в собор под аплодисменты и приветствия, достойные героев-завоевателей.
У нас было достаточно времени до момента истины, чтобы перекусить в одной из закусочных, выпить кофе и отдохнуть на деревянной скамейке которая располагалась в лучшем месте, освещенном солнцем. До момента, когда мы узнаем кто прошел курс идеально, вписался во временные рамки и занял одно из трех призовых мест.
Для победителей были приготовлены три главных трофея, а также кубки меньшего размера и сертификаты для тех, кто справился с заданием не так хорошо, как им бы хотелось бы, но был награждён за участие.
Мы заняли второе место, будучи всего в одной секунде от первого.
Как только наш статус был объявлен, мы сели обратно в “Победу”, и Юрий, ловко и на скорости завел машину на приподнятый автомобильный пандус так красиво, что я мог бы только мечтать о таком высшем пилотаже.
Это было время принятия призов и выступлений.
Для меня это была нелегкая задача. Я был единственным англичанином в гонке, и я не собирался навязывать ни толпе, стоящей передо мной, ни себе, мой несравненно плохой русский язык. Это означало, что мне придется обращаться к толпе по-английски. Я уверен, что в толпе, стоявшей передо мной, должен был быть один или два человека, которые поймут, о чем я говорю. Например, там была моя жена, которая никогда меня не понимает. Так почему же я решил что она начнет понимать меня сейчас? Тем не менее, после того как я закончил свою краткую речь, Юрий сделал краткий перевод.
Это был долгий день, полезный день, совсем необычный день. Как говорится, все случается в первый раз, и мы получили огромное удовольствие от этого первого раза!”
Мик Харт и Юрий Грозмани получают трофей на Калининградском ралли ретро-автомобилей 29 мая 2021 года Калининград Винтажралли Восток-Запад
