St Petersburg Travel Notes: installment one
Greetings from sunny and seasonably chilly St Petersburg, where the trees have just begun seriously shedding their leaves, running just a bit ahead of the old Slavic name for the month coming onstage at the end of this week, listopad (falling leaves). The sun may be up and about for less than eight hours on twenty-four, but its strength is still there – enough to turn the windowed balcony on our pied-à- terre apartment into a fine clothes dryer.
Russia today has a highly centralized political life, as it always did, and the market may be less free and more controlled by the powers that be, but this is certainly not a period of stagnation. On the contrary, the market is bursting at the seams from dynamism. Unemployment, per the figures Vladimir Putin issued in a speech yesterday, stands at a record low of 2.5%, and by his tally, growth of GDP is flirting with 4% by year’s end, a shade below China but well ahead of all countries of the Collective West:
In the two neighborhood supermarkets that I shopped in this morning, one Economy Class and the other Premium Class, the outstanding feature was churn. With the appearance of new products made in Russia, like the burgeoning assortment of home grown hard cheeses, and with the replacement of well known Western branded consumables by new owners of the manufacturing facilities left behind by the departed Western industrialists, it is not always easy to gauge inflation in the grocery basket. An example of semi-rebranding intended to retain loyal customers, is the Activia yoghurts that carried the Danone logotype till the French company sold its property rights here several months ago; now the packaging is almost identical except for the Danone logo. This is what you see progressively across many different product groups. I have seen it remotely when watching the latest television ads for what was Kentucky Fried Chicken and now is called Rostics, an independently owned, Russian registered fast food mega-operator that has been around since the 1990s.
When you look at non-branded foods like fresh fish and fruits or vegetables, there does not seem to me to be any appreciable inflation from my last visit four months ago. Flounder caught in the Russian North may have become even cheaper, selling today for just 3.5 euros/kg, that is four times cheaper than in Brussels. Turkish sea bass is still just 10 euros/kg, 50% below Belgian prices. But rainbow trout steaks from fish grown in the waters of Russian Karelia have gone up in price to 20 euros/kg, on a par with what you will find in Belgium for a product bearing the same name (though the quality in Brussels is lower).
Looking at processed meats, in particular cured sausages, the market entries continue to change and an element of cat and mouse is going on between producers and consumers. The content labeling is so miniscule that you need a microscope, not a simple magnifying glass to understand what you are buying. Can it be that the fat content of that salami is really 41%? Most likely, it is. And did they really mix poultry into the meat mix? You will never know if you trust your unaided eyes. However, that kind of deception is old hat compared to what I discovered on a package of hot dogs from a new producer on our supermarket shelves: the plastic wrapping has a hint on one corner: “list of contents is inside”! This marks a new level of cheekiness and flouting of consumer protection laws that require transparency.
I am not a complainer, just an observer. On the positive side, most all Russian plastic tubs containing pickles, spreads, soups, or what not have a little tab on the lid that you pull down, so that when it detaches you have a grip by which to lever open the lid. In Belgium this common sense packaging does not exist. Very often we have to smash the lid with a carving knife to get to the product inside.
If I may move out of the stores and share an impression of what folks here are driving now, it bears mention that out of the four taxis I rode around town today, three were spanking new Chinese cars, each from a different manufacturer, and one was an old, indeed very old Ford whose owner knows he cannot replace it today with something from the West. Those Chinese autos were all very comfortable, though that is not why the Chinese are making ever greater inroads into the Russian market. The reason is politics, of course.
*****
So where else is politics in today’s report you may ask? Here it is: the subject is what goes on at the Estonian-Russian border at Narva, the main crossing point for passenger traffic which I happened to use last night to enter the country on my way to Petersburg, just as I did on my last visit four months ago.
The choice of Narva, Estonia was not arbitrary. When Finland closed its borders to Russia more than a year ago, Estonia remained the only EU country having a common land border with Russia that allowed passengers through in both directions.
The status of the Narva crossing is also a moving target. I say this as I respond here to readers who have asked me by email or otherwise what is the best way to travel to Russia now that Mr. Putin’s government has truly eased visa issuance.
The relatively humane gesture of the Estonian authorities in keeping open the border crossing was, one might say, a favor to its own dual nationality citizens seeking to visit relatives in Russia. Third country nationals were also beneficiaries of this largesse. But it had its limitations: the bridge over the Narva separating the two countries was closed to vehicular traffic nine months or so ago. Individual passengers must disembark on one end, make the 600 meter crossing through no-man's land on foot with all their baggage, kids in strollers, ets, and then board another bus on the other side to continue their journey.
On my last trip, it was the Russians who made life difficult for the visitors in both directions. They worked slowly and lines of 45 minutes or longer formed at their post both for those entering and for those leaving. However, this time the Estonians were taking the initiative and worked their mischief on those leaving the EU for Russia. They imposed full customs inspection of every bit of luggage, as well as of the purse or wallet of every traveler to count your banknotes, with the result that we found late in the afternoon yesterday: a huddled mass of perhaps 100 travelers was waiting in the cold (5 degrees Celsius) for more than 3 hours to be admitted inside the Estonian passport control and customs building.
It was a good thing that the weather was dry and not rainy, though I doubt any kindness would be shown even if the skies showered these huddled travelers with a deluge.
That this was cruel is beyond discussion. At the same time I note that when we were inspected the customs officials were not unpleasant and told us they were just doing their job. Following orders. This was clearly a political decision taken from on high to make travel to Russia as miserable as possible.
Still things could get worse. The border crossing may be closed once and for all in the new year. This I heard from the taxi driver who drove us onward to Petersburg.
Taken as an official procedure, these customs inspections for people departing the EU make no sense. And what right do the Estonian passport officers have to ask those leaving how long they intend to be away and what they will be doing? This is pure harassment.
You may wonder why I fuss about this relatively minor nastiness. The answer is that it is just the tip of an iceberg of hate and barbarism in the mind set of those who ordered these little guys in the customs office to 'do their job'. For that to be clear, I share with you the remarks of our (ethnic Russian) taxi driver who took us from the Tallinn airport to the city bus terminal.
I congratulated him on his good fortune that the country's highest Russia-hater has shipped out to Brussels to take over the portfolio of foreign affairs and defense commissioner under Ursula von der Leyen. He remarked in response: but some of our senior military officers said publicly a week ago that a preemptive (nuclear) strike should be made against Russia. And there you have it: these charming Estonian elites, like their fellow Baltic elites in neighboring Latvia and Lithuania ,would happily be doing to Russians what the Israelis are doing to Gaza Palestinians if only they had the necessary materiel means. Happily they don’t have the materiel means and never will, NATO or no NATO.
©Gilbert Doctorow, 2024