Two decades after the Soviet Union died, a visit to the mummy-under-glass of its founder is more about creepy kitsch than political pilgrimage, but still a potent view into the totalitarian psyche. Open 10am-1pm, Tuesday-Thursday and Saturday-Sunday. Entrance is free, but bags, cameras and phones must be checked for a fee. To make this a true freebie, go with a companion who can hold your gear and then switch off. The line moves briskly and the tag-team method won’t eat up much extra time.
This former winery on a careworn industrial street has been turned into Moscow’s modern art nexus. A dozen galleries, including that of internationally known art impresario Marat Guelman, an array of modish shops and a café draw the young and stylish on weekends — a way to get to this crowd without paying a cover charge at a club. Take a map. Though it’s near the Kursky railway terminal, the neighbourhood is confusing and the street’s name, Chetverty Syromyatnichesky Pereulok, is a tongue-twister if asking for directions.
No one comes to Moscow to get close to nature, but if you need to get away from its dirt and din, a walk through the wetlands of the Yauza River, a tributary of the Moscow River, is a pastoral idyll just 8km from Red Square. Well-maintained paths and boardwalks lead through marshes and woods, past a 350-year-old country church, ending at a former nobleman’s estate. The 21st century may seem a bit jarring when the 3km walk is over. The trail starts a couple of blocks from the Babushkinskaya subway stop.
Although tourists jam the Izmailovsky souvenir market’s ersatz tsarist-era buildings, few venture to the real thing right next door. This island in a small man-made lake was a royal estate when Peter the Great was a boy and contains a soaring church with peculiar peacock-eye friezes and a fearsome three-storey structure dating to his time (he died in 1725), along with a sprawling 19th-century ensemble. Peter learnt to sail here and credited it as the beginning of his drive to make Russia a great naval power. The island is visible from the market area, but the buildings are hidden by thick trees, so coming upon them feels like discovering a lost village.
ALL-RUSSIA EXHIBITION CENTRE
Larger than the country of Monaco, this complex originally built to laud Soviet achievements features Stalinist Gothic architecture (don’t miss the pavilion with a gargantuan bull charging off the roof), exuberant fountains, a Vostok rocket like the one that put the first man into orbit, and usually a few thousand Russians strolling, flirting and scarfing down shish kebabs and refreshments. Some of the massive pavilions that once housed Communist propaganda exhibits have been given over to capitalism, filled with warrens of tiny kiosks selling almost anything; others are falling into picturesque disrepair. It’s a vivid summary of the Soviet Union’s ambitions and disintegration, especially the one-time space-exploration building, now selling gardening supplies, where a giant, ghostly portrait of Yuri Gagarin watches over sellers of petunia seedlings. Take the subway to VDNKh and follow the crowd.