Memories and Reflections-№10-My one of my favorite corners of Moscow: a view from the inside-Media collection "Driving Idea"

Memories and Reflections
Memoir-nostalgic lyrics and review of the current era
№10

One of my favorite corners of Moscow: a view from the inside

Publicist Viktor Ledenev mentally returns to the bright days of his student life and invites readers to walk with him from the Rechnoy Vokzal metro station along the long route that led to his home dormitory of the Institute of Culture on the Left Bank of Khimki. The text lifts your spirits and immerses you in the unforgettable atmosphere of the early 1990s.

A lot has been written about Moscow, but often in bad taste, since the topic is hackneyed and boring. What more interesting things can you say about this city? And what other city can you write about, especially in Russia?! Yes, of course, this is the most wonderful city on Earth! Yes, this is the capital of a huge country! But what can you see here now, especially from the inside?!

I have known Moscow intimately since 1991, when I entered the Moscow State Institute of Culture, as this university was called then. And since it is located in the suburbs of Moscow, that is, in Khimki, and the bus from Moscow to this institute then ran from the Rechnoy Vokzal metro station, the first district of Moscow that I studied thoroughly and walked up and down - this was the district Northern River Station, and more specifically from the metro along Festivalnaya Street, then along Smolnaya Street, to the Soyuz Hotel, through the Khimki Forest to the Levoberezhnaya platform.

I often had to travel on my own there, because buses rarely ran in those years, and when returning late from theaters, sometimes there was no public transport at all. I had to walk to the hostel in the Khimki district called “Left Bank”, so I studied this area thoroughly and this area was for me then like the first favorite corner of Moscow, because it was the way home to the hostel, where it was warm and a little nourishing, fun, sincere and comfortable.

But this, of course, is the euphoria of youth and studenthood, because I was 17 years old then. And this area seemed native, close and loved to me. Although, to be honest, I love the center of Moscow, and not these sleeping outskirts, but that’s another story and I’ll tell you about the central places of the best city on Earth in my next articles.

So, I’ll start with my first walking route there, when I got there late in the evening, and almost at night, from the Rechnoy Vokzal metro station to my Khimki. It was December 1991, we were standing at a bus stop, there was no bus for a long time, then the dispatcher from a pitiful semblance of a booth said that there would be no transport, because it had broken down, and it was already late.

Well, what to do then in this situation! We, mostly, of course, students of the “kulka”, as this Institute of Culture was lovingly called and called by almost everyone who knows this institution, trampled, froze, laughed and decided to walk to the dorm. What a taxi at that time! Firstly, you couldn’t even find private cab drivers there then, and how could our 1991 students have money, especially since they had already spent everything on tea and a bun.

So, we stood there and decided to walk. Everyone rushed together along Festivalnaya Street, and I slowly trudged after them. For some reason, the mood was somewhat sluggish, especially after a boring performance, I don’t remember now in which of the theaters in Moscow. Then I’ll remember and review the theater of those times.

Well, here I am following the crowd, a little behind, looking around, I’ve never been here, I kept looking at these gloomy gray houses from the bus, and then suddenly I look up close at the windows, piles of snow and ice around, broken asphalt, night stalls with alcohol, vodka and other assortments. I’m walking behind a crowd of senior students, and I’m thinking a thought... And this thought still pops up in my mind when I take a walk around Moscow.

And its essence is that there are so many windows around, it’s warm, cozy, people go about their business, relax, they feel good, and why not my window is nowhere! I, too, want to sit outside some window and look at the street along which people in gloomy clothes are jumping between the snowdrifts! And I still want this, I look out the windows and this thought comes through. Until now, even 30 years later from that route.

We turned onto Smolnaya Street, which seemed very uncomfortable to me, abandoned, dirty and somehow backward. But this is actually true. And it hasn’t changed that much in 30 years, although new multi-storey buildings have appeared.

But... something very Soviet smelled at that moment. Dilapidated, dirty yellow houses, some strange buildings unknown to me, similar to factory workshops and even behind dirtier concrete fences. Well, maybe the December weather had such an impact on my perception, I won’t guess now.

Let's go ahead to the dorms, we need to have a snack and sleep, tomorrow we have classes at our “Moscow-non-Moscow” university, at the “fun faculty that is called cultural enlightenment, although there is no more enlightenment in life” ...as it was sung in a student song of those years. And suddenly I see lights ahead, as if light had appeared at the end of the tunnel, as if in clinical death! And this turns out to be the Soyuz Hotel at the end of Smolnaya Street, which apparently foreigners built for the Olympics-80 and built it well, brightly, colorfully.

Well, after my Soviet childhood, this hotel seemed like an oasis in the middle of a dirty swamp, and even after a long walk along a rather large street called “Smolnaya”. Approaching this hotel, I seemed to feel a surge of energy and felt that it was like fate had given me a break, because ahead there were thickets, wilds, thickets and a complete absence of asphalt. There was simply a path through the forest, like in remote villages of the Russian province.

And this is in Moscow, almost close to the metro. It feels like civilization ends here and the border between city and countryside begins, which they really wanted to erase in the Soviet Union. Well, apparently they tried to erase it, because it was still unclear to me where this border goes between city and village. This hotel was a sign of this “Rubicon”, like a kind of border outpost.

And so we entered the forest, in order to go through it to the Levoberezhnaya railway platform, from where, along the underground passage across Bibliotechnaya street, I finally , I’ll go to my student dormitory. I already wanted to sleep and eat, my feet were wet, there was snow in the taiga, the barely trodden path did not end. I walk in the dark towards the voices of the students.

Some huts with rickety roofs and mossy windows flash by. There are no lights, it’s good that the sky was bright because of the moonlight, otherwise you could get lost and go out in the wrong place. And the noise of trains and electric trains led in the right direction. Lights appeared above the platform, the noise of the trains intensified, the road widened, if you can call it a road with rotten logs almost right next to each other. I even saw a sign board with the names of the streets.

It turns out that in this thicket with several houses there are two streets: one Belinsky, and the second Chernyshevsky. And their names were lovingly written on the board from the box, apparently by a local artist. I immediately thought after a school literature course: “Why did Belinsky and Chernyshevsky end up here, did they live here or have been here before! It seems like I remember they were never friends”...well, everything like that. And my wet feet don’t give me rest, but I have to go, I’m already very hungry for sleep and I’m very tired from being unaccustomed to this walk.

And here it is a platform! I go down into the passage, walk along Bibliotechnaya Street, the lights of the hostel are already close, there is a park with oak trees, on the left is the Moscow Canal, the lights of the windows of neighboring houses. The music building of the Institute of Culture, the stadium and the gym were left behind. And here I am on the threshold of my dorm. Hooray! I'm at home, warm, comfortable.

I boiled a kettle, fried potatoes and onions, ate heartily and lay down on the side with such great relief and a feeling of joy, as well as slight languor and satisfaction. “How troubling is this path! I can't sleep, I can't sleep! Villages, domes and a snowstorm are white and white!”, for some reason I remembered the words of a song from the 80s from the repertoire of Alla Pugacheva before I went to bed. Although I really wanted to sleep.

And I fell asleep in a deep, heroic sleep with a brave snoring. Tomorrow is a new day, new events, everything new. And already falling asleep, between the transition from conscious to unconscious, the mantra-affirmation “Don’t complicate it!” was spinning in my head. Everything works out!”...

This is how I remember my first, one of my favorite outlying corners of Moscow in the 90s. And this walk is still in my memory. Every time I arrive at the River Station, I stand and look into that blue distance along which I walked in that wet December 1991.

And my legs themselves begin to carry me along the same path, as if someone invisible is leading me. And I again go towards something new, clean, fresh and say to myself: “Don’t complicate it! Everything works out! I'm getting rich! I'm buying! I live! I love!!!" Drivingidea.ru LogoArrow