Freddie Mercury off the chart in Russia’s Kaliningrad
Published: 6 May 2022 ~ Freddie Mercury Kaliningrad House is one in a million
Were you, or are you, a fan of Freddie Mercury? I cannot say that moustachioed Freddie or his band Queen did very much for me, although they did produce one or two memorable tracks. But something tells me that the owner of this property (see photos), not very inconspicuously tucked away in Russia’s Kaliningrad region’s countryside, has more than a passing admiration for the flamboyant singer songwriter, his unforgettable stage persona and outstanding vocal range.
Freddie Mercury Kaliningrad House
Bright pink with a stencilled silhouette of Freddie strutting his stuff, its not the sort of property that you might expect to find in, well almost anywhere really, but least of all in a small Russian hamlet.
My favourite musician, back ~ way back ~ in the progressive-rock era of my youth, was Frank Zappa and his innovative and rather unconventional band the Mothers of Invention.
Inspired by the Mercury tribute, I am trying to imagine the exterior makeover of our 18th century UK family home had I undertaken it using various artistic devices from some of Zappa’s zany album covers, perhaps a complete rendition of Freak Out! or the imagery used on the soundtrack album of Zappa’s surreal psychedelic and Freudian-infused musical monolith 200 Motels.
I am almost certain had I attempted such a profane project that the planning department of Northants County Council not to mention the parish council would have moved to have me committed, especially if there was a real danger that neither could make any money out of it.
However, in the case of Freddie House, it sort of grows on you, don’t you think?
The other advantage that the owner of this property has over us in Britland is that in the UK we would not be allowed to paint a Union Jack on the side of the house combined with Queen’s Crown motifs, for the very reasonable reason that it might offend minority imports. You have to admit, however, that the red, white and blue cuts a rather dashing figure! I think the Union Jack should be painted on every wall in the UK, particularly every wall in London!
In the Kaliningrad provinces, possibly an embryonic catalyst is at work, subliminally suggesting the constitution of an entire village exterior designed on the principle of tributes to favourite rock artists. Would Zappa have a hand in this, he could well have called it Tinsel Town.
Meanwhile, until that day which never may dawn, here’s looking at you Fred! 😊
Posts devoted to the Kaliningrad region, Russia, recent and not so …
Published: 23 September 2021 ~ An Englishman at the Dreadnought Kaliningrad
Every Jazz lover knows that the best jazz is played in underground basements. Where else would you find a basement? And Kaliningrad’s Dreadnought is one such place.
Billing itself as a ‘legendary English pub’, you would be hard pushed to find a pub like it anywhere in England, but what it most certainly is, is an excellent atmospheric bar-come-music venue and a subterranean supper’s delight, boasting best beers from around the world, including eight permanent and six guest beers on draught.
No need to ask why I was there, then.
An Englishman at the Dreadnought, Kaliningrad
A short walk from Kaliningrad’s Victory Square, down some steps and you are in the Dreadnought. The roomy entrance hall tells you immediately what you can expect. The Union Jack mat, the large wall painting of a gauntlet-covered fist holding a key and a second painting of the eponymous dreadnought battleship, the concrete section walls roughly skimmed with paint: This is a no-frills place, mate; hip, modern, up to date; good music, good beer, young people and me.
Undaunted, I stood on the Union Jack and had my photograph taken and did the same again in front of the dreadnought painting.
Dreadnought’s basement is open plan, but it isn’t exactly. It feels that way because there are no doors, just entrances, so you get the unique ambivalence of airiness whilst sitting in a rabbit warren.
An anteroom immediately in front of the music room enables you to listen to the bands from a distance. The main room, where the bands play, is ‘L’ shaped and divided into three sections by narrowed widths minus doors.
Choice of seats range from high oval tables lined with tall, backed, bar stools on heavy cast-iron bases, low tables with bench seats on either side and, closest to the stage, comfortable-looking captain’s chairs, the sort that swivel nicely and are covered in brown leatherette.
I liked our reserved table. It was one of the tall ones, with high stools on heavy industrial bases. I always like a table where I can sit with my back to the wall. Why not? Look what happened to Wild Bill Hickok!
On the subject of reserved tables, Kaliningrad grows more popular each year, so, if you have a particular place in mind where you want to wine and dine or down a few beers, be advised that you’d best reserve a table or face the possible inconvenience of wandering around from bar to bar ad infinitum. This is particularly true on a Saturday night.
An Englishman at the Dreadnought Kaliningrad
As anybody who follows jazz can tell you, improvisation and spontaneity are highly valued, and I get the impression that Dreadnought knows this. Improvisation and spontaneity have been built into the décor. The basement is basic, real basic, for the walls and the ceiling follows that modern trend where all is exposed and on display: the electrical fittings, wires, heating and ventilation pipes, structural supports and so on. The lighting, even with the many traditional ceiling sockets, is subdued and the industrial-style suspended lamps that dangle over the tables halo the glow with limited dispersal.
Likewise, the interior décor is minimal; its artiness is controlled, aspiring towards the extemporised look, to give that laid-back, unobtrusive but thoroughly engaging appeal.
The British theme, which comes with the dreadnought name, is carried over from the hall into the music room by the further use of Union Jack curtains which, in keeping with the retro theme of the early 20th century, have worn and distressed stage managed into them.
Principal to the decor in the entertainments room are two large wall paintings. Although in content these are naval associated, the style in which they are painted is distinctly 1940s’ United States Air Force. They are, in fact, nose-art replicas, featuring leggy, stocking-clad, frolicking females, partly dressed in uniform, with flirtatious come-hither looks.
The one nearest to our table had its coquette perched on top of a sharks’ teeth painted torpedo set against a billowing wave with ‘On the Wave’ written across the foam, which I imagine should rightly read ‘on the crest of a wave’. The other had its flirty part-uniformed female draped across the suggestive gun barrels of a dreadnought class destroyer. Both pictures are fun and colourful, although historically neither one, or anything vaguely like them, would have been tolerated by the Royal Navy’s upper echelons or likewise by, and especially by, the Royal Air Force, and as such this type of artwork strictly remains an American idiosyncrasy.
There is yet another room in the Dreadnought’s arsenal, which, if you are unaware of it, you are likely to come across on your way to the toilet. It put me in mind of a typical American bar, where the rooms are long and narrow and the clientele perch on tall bar stools at the front of the serving counter that runs the length of the room. The hubbub, which was busy but not rowdy, the clever lighting and silhouette wall-art of the dreadnought’s heavy guns, coalesced to create an ambience that took me back to those heady days of university campus bars.
Food is served at the Dreadnought, but as we had already eaten at the Greek restaurant El Greco’s, I will make no attempt to comment on either the variety or quality of the food. See the Essential Details section at the end of this post , where you will find the Dreadnought’s website address and the food it has on offer.
I had already drunk beer at El Greco’s but that did not stop me drinking beer at the Dreadnought. My choice of beer this evening was Maisel’s Weisse. It’s a German beer which, from experience, agrees with me, although as I sat there drinking it I could distinctly feel those heavy guns from the Royal Navy’s dreadnoughts bearing down on my fraternisation.
An Englishman at the Dreadnought, Kaliningrad
The Dreadnought hosts different kinds of music but tonight, as I have noted, the stage was set for jazz. My appreciation of jazz is reserved more or less to the emerging and principal swing years of the 1920s to the 1940s. Anything outside of this I tend to regard as background music, some of which I like and some which quite frankly jars. I am pleased to say, however, that Dreadful at the Dreadnought were not performing on the evening of our visit, and all of our party agreed that what we heard we liked.
Another plus in the Dreadnought’s favour is that the music is transmitted at an agreeable volume, meaning that you can hear it, appreciate it and still can hear yourself think and talk. How many times have you been to a music venue where you just can’t wait for each successive number to stop so that you can hold that conversation? I often wonder if some bands don’t pump up the volume to prevent the audience from discussing whether they like the music or not. Personally, I like to listen to music at a volume that allows me to converse with my friends without shouting, not to be deafened into submission to fulfill the band’s delusion that I love their music so much that it has rendered me, and everyone else, speechless for the evening.
Everything considered ~ the location, ambience, lighting, service, range of beers on offer, choice of places to perch and, as just appraised, the music ~ the Dreadnought gets the expatriate seal of approval.
But it wasn’t over yet. One of our party, out of the goodness of her heart, had ordered the house specialty for me ~ my very own ‘big gun’ dreadnought. As the photograph shows, the wooden dreadnought model holds a full battery of different flavoured vodkas; large glasses full of them, and all for me at the end of the evening when I’d been drinking beer. The rest of the crew abandoned ship, but, like the good captain that I am, I remained on the bridge ready to do my duty and was quite prepared, if need be, to go down with the ship as the band played on. Sink or float, the following morning I knew I would need a life belt!
Note in the photograph, the thoughtful and conveniently placed fire extinguisher that your friends can put you out with after you’ve overdone it on lashings of chili vodka!
Essential details:
Bar Drednout (Dreadnought Pub) 5 Handel Street Kaliningrad Russia
Tel: +7 (4012) 99 26 06
Opening times: Mon-Thu, Sun: from 12 noon to 12 midnight Fri-Sat: from 12 noon to 3am
Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)
Article 9: Three Bears Crystalbeer
Published: 27 November 2020
Whenever I see a beer bottle or can in a Russian supermarket with three bears (tree meeshkee) on the label, I am smitten by a wave of nostalgia, as this was quite possibly the first bottled beer brand that I drank when I came to Kaliningrad.
Memory is a fallible thing, for mine suggests that I first drank Three Bears on my inaugural trip to Kaliningrad in the winter of 2000, whereas research indicates that the Three Bears made their Russian debut in 2002. Be this as it may, there is no denying that the brand has established itself as quintessentially Russian and could hardly have failed to do otherwise, as I cannot think of anything more emblematically Russian than a bear logo, except perhaps for a ooshanka, ~ come now, of course you know what I mean, one of those furry hats with a flap down either side.
Typically Russian in appearance, the Three Bears brand is in fact brewed by international brewers Heineken, which, having penetrated the Russian beer market in 2002, is now reputed to be up there among the top 10 brewers in Russia.
Three Bears Crystal beer in Kaliningrad Russia
The Three Bears brand has four variants: Three Bears Classic; Three Bears Light; Three Bears Crystal; and Three Bears Strong. At 7% ABV the Three Bears Strong speaks for itself: it sort of goes, ‘Grrrr’; the Classic at 4.9% ABV is not so ‘Grrrr’, but it is still ‘Grrr’; the Three Bears Crystal at 4.4% is no pussy cat; but as you would expect Three Bears Light is a mere 4.7% ABV ~ er, wait a moment, am I missing something here? Perhaps when they say ‘Light’ they mean light colour?
I chose Three Bears Crystal beer because when I have a session I will normally drink a couple of 1.5 litre bottles of beer in one sitting. How much of a lush you judge me to be will be entirely predicated on your own consumption criteria, namely, “Woah, too much!” or “What! Call that a session! I’d have that for breakfast!” The difference lies somewhere between broadcast and boast; prohibition and politician; and promise and perversion ~ all three tinged by the ‘men will always be men’ and ‘men will always be boys’ maxims, which could cause controversy by the time they reach the end of the UK rainbow but garner some butch-like brownie points with feminists on the way.
Sorry, all this has about as much to do with Three Bears Crystal beer as Biden’s worldview has with reality and, unless you know a feminist called Goldilocks, and you might, as the name fits, you would be better off not going down to the woods today but staying at home with Crystal.
I did, and was I in for that Big Surprise?
In the bottle and in the glass, Three Bears Crystal has an attractive amber tone making it the empathic ale for amber-lands consumption. Its hoppy, bitter fragrance tends to waft away a few minutes after the beer has been decanted, enough in these troubled times to alarm you with the question, “Am I losing my sense of smell?”, but, needing no better excuse to quickly take the taste test, as soon as it hits your tongue you breathe a sigh of relief: “Ahhh, yes, it was worth every ruble of the 125 rubles I coughed up for it,” ~ whilst wearing my mask, of course.
Three Bears Crystal has, what I like to refer to, as a ‘straw taste’ ~ and I seriously do not mean this derogatively. I know that it does not sound shampers or even Merlot, and most probably imparts itself from my days as a teenage farmer, but whatever the derivative, this term to me captures a specific beer experience in which the initial bitterness is offset by a blunt edge, a saturating mellowness. This is not to say that Three Bears Crystal does not pack a zing, although my suspicions are that it is the carbonation that does it, which is the ‘also source’ of the illusory bitter tang that retains itself after consumption, but for all that the essence of this beer is decidedly Matt Monro ~ an easy-on-the palate version of easy listening on the ears.
Three Bears Crystal beer is a session beer
In words that every beer-quaffing Englishman will readily understand, Three Bears Crystal is in my judgement a sound-as-a-pound (and as right-as-a-ruble) session beer.
It goes down lovely with a packet of crisps and a handful of nuts, which you would not be able to enjoy it with in an English pub at present owing to the latest virus curfew laws, which seem to imply that coronavirus hides in pubs waiting to pounce predatorily on those who would rather snack with their pint than eat a ‘substantial meal’, ie a large plate of burgers, frozen peas and reconstituted chips ~ the pub-grub answer to the vaccine.
Conclusion: The message is Crystal clear. You don’t have to get a Vaccine Passport and fly to the UK for a ‘substantial meal’. Three Bears Crystal can be found in most Kaliningrad supermarkets in 1.5 litre bottles at a price you cannot growl at. Why not buy two bottles! Should you over do it, there is always the hair of the bear!
Three Bears Crystal beer
😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS Name of Beer: Three Bears Crystal Brewer: Heineken Where it is brewed: St Petersburg and in other Russian locations Bottle capacity: 1.5 litres Strength: 4.4% Price: It cost me about 125 rubles (£1.23) Appearance: Light amber Aroma: Not much Taste: Light bitterness, the equivalent of a British light or pale ale Fizz amplitude: 5/10 Label/Marketing: Traditional Russian Would you buy it again? I have, on several occasions
*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.
