Back in Cold War days I read too many spy stories and watched too many Bond films that made want to go to Moscow. I didn’t want to go to the Bolshoi or gasp at Faberge eggs in a museum either.
I wanted to be spied on while I spied on other people. I wanted to take secret photos before making a nail-biting escape to the West carrying the stolen secret files on a microfilm that I had picked up from the dead drop by the park bench.
Somewhat sadly though, during my visit to Moscow I discovered that the coming of capitalism had spoiled much of my fun before it could begin.
Anyone who is willing to pay the entrance fee can get inside the Kremlin walls. A McDonald’s sits shamelessly on the edge of Red Square. The famed GUM state department store, where in Soviet times only top Communist party officers could shop on the first floor, is now a shopping mall full of luxury brands like Dior, Louis Vuitton and Cartier and ..um… UGG – seriously there is an UGG boot shop in GUM.
But on a spare day in Moscow I did get a chance to engage in a little espionage when I sort of, kind of, accidentally broke in to the Moscow Olympic Stadium.
As an undergraduate student I wrote a thesis on the machinations surrounding the Moscow Olympic Games boycott. It remains a topic of interest. I have a personal connection to and a strong interest in Moscow Olympic Stadium. I was going to see it somehow.
I couldn’t find any information in English about any opening hours of Moscow Olympic Stadium but managed to figure out which metro station was nearby.
I headed out there in the hope they would have guided tours or at least a museum on offer.
After walking past the giant statue of Lenin out the front I found a door with a sign above it that said Museum of Sport – just what I wanted.
The turnstile was locked but the door beside the turnstile was open. So I walked through it. Nobody was there except for two young men, likely fellow tourists looking to explore. They looked like they knew what they were doing so I followed them.
When you’re walking where you probably shouldn’t be, it’s best to walk with confidence and make it look like you’re meant to be there. The three of us did just that.
We kept opening unlocked doors and going deeper into the bowels of the stadium while expecting to be at least challenged, probably arrested and possibly shot. But nobody did challenge us and before I knew it I was standing on the athletics track.
My two fellow ‘visitors’ seemed to be football fans and were interested in the pitch. They stood taking photos of each other on the turf.
For me it was all about the 1980 Olympics. But no doubt a lot had changed since then.
The only other people around were picking up rubbish from the stands.
At no point did anyone challenge me. So, I did a lap of the stadium and took a few sneaky photos. I thought when I got the camera out someone would come and arrest me or at least yell ‘photos, nyet!’ But nothing.
On my way back I found one of the doors I had walked through on the way in had a set of keys dangling in the back of the lock. Someone had unlocked the door and then left it unlocked with the keys still in it.
I took that as a sure sign that I really wasn’t meant to be there and someone else was nearby. I scarpered.
I made my escape with the photos, not on microfilm but a modern day flashcard,* on a boat along the Moscow river and then through the metro to my rendezvous with the other Westerners at the hotel.
*Sadly the flash card containing these ‘secret’ photos disappeared in my home after my holiday and I have only a couple of photos from my trip to Russia. Unfortunately, no Olympic stadium images survive.