Sunlight glints off the golden domes and catches your eye. The ancient, patchwork-patterned church is right in front of you, but you almost miss it because you are walking with your head down, shielding your face from the wind and employing all efforts to avoid slipping on hidden patches of ice. A steely-eyed babushka, laden with a heavy fur coat and an oversized shopping bag, still manages to negotiate the precarious pathway faster than your inexperienced feet.
You navigate around a pair of young lovers who have stopped to admire the lacy lingerie in a shop window. You stare, only for a moment, as a blonde - devastatingly gorgeous with impossibly long legs - emerges from a sleek, black sedan.
You resist the temptation to duck into a cosy café, where the din of casual conversation and clinking coffee cups invites you to warm your chilled bones. Instead, you follow the babushka inside the church. The heavy door closes behind you, blocking out the cacophony of honking horns and screaming sirens. Inside, the only sound is the whisper of prayers. As your eyes adjust to the darkness of the candlelit interior, you make out the familiar characters on the age-old icons, which adorn the whitewashed walls. You find yourself transported from the hustling, bustling modern capital across centuries to medieval Moscow, the mighty fortress and centre of Orthodoxy, where ancient Rus grew up.
Russia's earliest roots are in Moscow: the Kremlin still shows off the splendour of Muscovy's grand princes and St Basil's Cathedral still recounts the defeat of the Tatars. Moscow also recalls Russia's more recent past, still fresh in our memories. On Red Square, the founder of the Soviet state lies embalmed. And only a few kilometres away, a future leader rallied outside the White House, leading to the demise of the same state.
Moscow continues to make history. It is unfolding on every street corner, as Muscovites move into the 21st century, embracing the global culture of the modern era. With the same purposeful optimism that their predecessors looked 'forward to communism!', Muscovites today are looking forward to the opportunities promised by the New Russia. They are breaking down the barriers of generations past - political boundaries, cultural taboos and ideological stricture - and exploring the possibilities of consumerism, creativity and career.
Moscow is the epicentre of New Russia and everything that it represents. It boasts commerce and culture that most provincial Russians can only dream about. Plagued by soaring prices and riddled with corruption, it also epitomises the seamier side of postcommunist Russia. Nowhere are Russia's contrasts more apparent than in Moscow: ancient monasteries and ultramodern monoliths stand side by side, and New Russian millionaires and poverty-stricken pensioners walk the same streets.
The city is magnificent in late spring (May or June) and early autumn (September or October), when the city's parks are filled with flowering trees or colourful leaves. Moscow is spruced up for the May holidays and City Day, both festive times in the capital. But if you want to delve deep into the Russian soul, come in winter, when snow, cold and darkness muffle the modern noise.
Any time of year, Moscow evokes wonder. Even today, you will appreciate the words penned by Pushkin almost 200 years ago in Eugene (Yevgeny) Onegin: 'Already gleaming/before their eyes they see unfold/the towers of whitestone Moscow beaming/with fire from every cross of gold./Friends, how my heart would leap with pleasure/when suddenly I saw this treasure/of spires and belfries, in a cup/with parks and mansions, open up.'
Last updated: Sep 24, 2008
