{"id":428,"date":"2026-03-29T00:08:53","date_gmt":"2026-03-29T00:08:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mikesmithproperty.co.uk\/beta\/?p=428"},"modified":"2026-04-04T18:02:55","modified_gmt":"2026-04-04T18:02:55","slug":"a-trip-to-putins-russia-%f0%9f%87%b7%f0%9f%87%ba","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mikesmithproperty.co.uk\/beta\/a-trip-to-putins-russia-%f0%9f%87%b7%f0%9f%87%ba\/","title":{"rendered":"A trip to the Kremlin (Nov 2024)"},"content":{"rendered":"

My Trip Behind the Iron Curtain to Putin\u2019s Russia (Nov 2024)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I saw a friend check in to St Petersburg on Facebook. No politics, no explanation. Just a quiet check into a country the West said was off-limits. Curiosity got the better of me and I asked how the hell did you get a visa? He was an ex-airline pilot. I received a detailed briefing, not advice. Fill this. Submit that. Get a sponsor. Say nothing about Ukraine. It was a detailed manual for crossing the new Iron Curtain.<\/p>\n

Family said I was mad. I applied anyway. The Visa came through with ease thanks to Roberts military style briefing. Fly in from Istanbul, the closest airport these days to get to Russia. Show your sponsor papers. Say nothing about Ukraine. It was all going a bit too well\u2026<\/p>\n

Straight off the plane at Sheremetyevo Airport I was pulled aside. No smiles. No small talk. A holding pen. Hard stares. Men who looked like they belonged on ISIS watchlists, not arrival lounges. Eventually it was my turn and I was pulled me into a side room. A border guard with dead-flat eyes. \u201cPurpose of visit?\u201d Tourism. A raised eyebrow. They asked to check my phone. Searched my WhatsApp for \u201cUkraine.\u201d I felt the first real bleed of doubt, what had I said on Whatapp? Qustions were then asked about my political views. Every Western media warning replayed in my head. Wrong word and I would disappear into a freezing Siberian Gulag. Thirty minutes felt like three hours. Then it broke. The guard paused, stared at the screen, and looked up. \u201cYou visit Syria, Mr Smith?\u201d He held up a joke Islamic meme from my phone a friend had sent me. Silence. Then his face cracked. The room exhaled. We both burst into laughter and he promptly stamped my passport. Enjoy your visit Mr Smith! I was in\u2026<\/p>\n

The relief felt physical. Like someone cut wires tied around my chest. I was then rewarded with a magical ride on the Moscow Metro. A 56p ticket through Soviet Era Stations that were more like cathedrals than a metro stations. Due to GPS jammer in central Moscow it took me a while to find my apartment. Door closed behind me. Quiet. That was when the adrenaline dropped and I realised: I was inside Russia. I had crossed a line most only debate online.<\/p>\n

Life in Moscow felt almost too normal. Apart from the dystopian Z Army adverts on the Metro, it was calm, safe, polite. Starbucks had simply erased the \u201cBucks.\u201d Stars Coffee. Same average Americano. Luxury stores boarded up like ghosts of a small town UK High Street. At the bank, a babushka devoured my US Dollars I brought to exchange. Click, clack, roubles counted with speed and pride. \u201cEverything still here,\u201d she said. \u201cJust more expensive.\u201d Inflation had bitten. Just like my insane gas bill back home. Yet shelves were full, streets clean, and those Western YouTube prophecies of collapse felt exaggerated for clicks.<\/p>\n

I stood on the same bridge the BBC\u2019s Steve Rosenberg films from, the Kremlin\u2019s dome\u2019s shimmering gold in the winter sun.\u00a0 A surreal experience I was finally here. I walked through its gates later that day, yes, an Englishman can visit the Kremlin for a few roubles. What we are told is a Bond villains lair is in fact a tourist attraction! Putin is of course wise to stay well away from his people. The gift shop had, Putin Mugs, Putin Fridge magnets and the Putin Calendar. I resisted buying someone I didn\u2019t like ultimate passive aggressive Christmas present!<\/p>\n

The Ballet at the Historic Bolshoi that night was unreal. Velvet, chandeliers, a Ballet that was magical the greatest show I will ever see. The Cosmonaut Museum the next day, a scorched re-entry capsule, frozen in time. A replica of Sputnik. One of the most increasable museums I have ever visited. Every tour was private. There were no tourists. None. I loved that energy of experiencing Russia as it should be and how it was in the 1980s. Even Moscow surprisingly had a hidden LGBT scene and a cavernous club, Central Station. The Western headlines don\u2019t tell this part.<\/p>\n

Next stop: St Petersburg. High-speed Sapsan train, smooth as glass. The Soviet era station was packed with soldiers heading South. At St Peterburgh I saw girl kiss her boyfriend in full military gear goodbye. No words. Just silence. It was like I was an observer on a 1944 movie scene. On the Metro in St Petersburg, the war posters explained why so many men were heading south. \u201cBe a Hero 2.2 Million RUB Reward.\u201d In sterling, around \u00a319k. At first glance it sounds low, but in Russia that buys a quarter of an average home in St Petersburg, roughly 10 million roubles or \u00a377,000 to get an apartment there. It\u2019s the equivalent of a 25% property deposit in UK terms, about \u00a374,000 back home. The maths sound tantalising until you remember what there are really buying. The state isn\u2019t offering cash: it\u2019s offering a down payment on death. The oldest rule of economics: everyone has a price. On the St Petersburg Metro, it was written in bold red letters. People will do anything for money, including being fresh meat for Putin. Here, that old saying had a darker punchline.<\/p>\n

My apartment in St Peterburg was a communist relic just off Nevsky Prospekt. Tiny kitchen. Thick walls. A relic without Wi-Fi. The city outside, part Vienna, part Venice. Palaces, canals, fog thick enough to chew. The Hermitage stunned me. Gilded halls, impossible ceilings. I paused before Catherine the Great\u2019s portrait. For a second, I could swear she winked at a cheeky Englishman who has some snuck into her finest collection.<\/p>\n

The people were kind and some of the friendliest I have met on my travels. A free coffee when the Wi-Fi failed. The gym owner who looked like a bouncer, was keen to talk Manchester United. A stranger in a bar insisted on paying my tab and said \u201cThank you for visiting my country,\u201d in perfect English. The irony: it happened in a faux English Pub called The Office. Union Jack on the wall and Premier League on the TV.<\/p>\n

I had a great time in Russia and was lucky to experience Russia in its true form. Russia is not Putin. Russia is the Ballet at the Bolshoi, Russia is Metro Station spotting in Moscow, Russia is the architecture of St Peterburg. Russia is the friendly & hardy folk who survived WW2, communism and will survive Putinism.<\/p>\n

Simply. The people are not the politics.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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