Nothing Else Quite Like a Birthday in Novgorod

“Get out of bed,” I told myself. “Time to face the music” (or more specifically the balalaikas).

Somehow, on the fifth day of my trip to the Soviet Union I had managed to become a year older. Today was that day--my birthday and my first day in the city of Novgorod.

“You are probably one of only few Americans to have birthday in Novgorod,” Katya, my Soviet tour guide, had commented during the train ride to the city the night before.

“Hmph,” I snorted. For an inveterate birthday-hater, the promise of originality was about as consoling as the cheese and sausage sandwich packed for our train trip. Both smacked of old age.

Lush Green Landscape

Yet, looking out the train window, I began to suspect that Katya might have been on to something. The lush green landscape all around us was evidence of something special about this city called Novgorod (new town). And the farther we traveled from crowded Leningrad, the more apparent it became.

By train, Novgorod is four hours south of the push-and-shove of Leningrad’s Moscow Station. It can also be reached by train from Moscow. This isn’t a large city (population 231,000), yet it is full of history. Novgorod was among the earliest of Russian settlements. City records show that it dates to AD 859.

This is indeed a good place to spend one’s birthday. No matter how many years one must confess to, it is still just a flash in the pan by Novgorodian standards.

A good place to start one’s tour of Novgorod is the city’s kremlin (fortress). At breakfast, a fellow traveler read from his guidebook that Saint Sophia’s Cathedral--beautiful and five-domed within the kremlin walls--was built in the 11th Century.

“Older than you,” he quipped.

Beautiful Buildings

“We are now going to see beautiful buildings in our city,” Katya announced, briskly shoving her chair back to rise from the table.

For once, Katya hadn’t exaggerated. The kremlin is filled with striking landmarks. We entered the grounds on the Volkhov River side.

Saint Sophia’s is one of the oldest stone structures in northern Russia. Its inside walls are covered with masterfully rendered murals. Our guide regaled us with descriptions of the church’s rich symbolism. Even the floor plan, she explained, is symbolic, having been arranged in the form of a crucifix as many churches are.

Like most historic buildings in Novgorod, Saint Sophia’s is surprisingly well-preserved, a result of the government’s restoration efforts soon after the end of the city’s Nazi occupation. We were told that Soviet archeologists and restorers continue their work in Novgorod, finding and repairing remnants of a civilization more than 1,100 years old.

Remnants in Museum

Some fascinating, smaller remnants of the city’s past are kept in the Novgorod Museum of History, Architecture and Art (also within the kremlin). Inside are an impressive array of artifacts from the 10th and 16th centuries. Back then, Novgorod--long before Leningrad--was the “window onto Europe.” Adventurous traders from Scandinavia, France, Italy, the Byzantine Empire and many Asian countries once traipsed through the now-quiet streets.

Among relics in the museum are the birch-bark “letters.” These missives, scratched onto bits of wood, record otherwise-forgotten events in the lives of 13th-Century Novgorodians. “Please come to your land . . .,” reads one plaintive letter from a peasant to his lord. “We are slowly dying. Our seeds were frozen and we need more.”

Outside the museum I found myself in a contemplative mood and had an urge to do some of my own exploring. Happily, that wasn’t a problem. The tour I had chosen for my Soviet adventure was arranged by Scandinavian Student Travel Service (SSTS). Although based in Copenhagen, SSTS tours can be booked through Council Travel Services in the United States. Primarily for people under 35, these excursions allow ample time for independent exploring (a rarity for most Soviet tours). So with an entire afternoon to myself, I set out for my private birthday tour of the city.

Twenty-six churches dotted my Michelin map of Novgorod. Visiting them all wasn’t on my agenda, but I did find a walk to Yarislav’s Courtyard worthwhile. There, amid a tranquil setting stands a cluster of picturesque churches. My favorite, the Church of the Holy Women (built 1510), is an incongruous mix of wood, stone and tile that still manages a certain timeless elegance.

Strolling the River

A stroll along the Volkhov (turbid) River was also a treat. Although this must have once been a frantic port for merchants and sailors, all is quite calm now. More so than in the big cities, the residents smile at strangers in Novgorod. No shouts of “ Devooshka, staw ti delayesh? “ (Young woman, what are you doing?) when I stopped to take a photograph. No crowd of little children pleading, “Nikes, Reeboks, Levis, Swatch . . . let’s trade.”

In Novgorod, too, there seems to be a sense of pride about the city that was unusual among our other Soviet stops. On the banks of the Volkhov an impressive concrete-and-glass structure was under construction. “That is our new cultural center,” a Novgorodian woman said to me, pointing to the building as if she had drawn the plans herself.

Even the Intourist Hotel next door to the cultural center is getting a face lift. Although dark and dusty now, it shows promise of improving once remodeling is completed.

Our group stayed at the Hotel Volkhov. Accommodations were adequate, although hot water was not always guaranteed. Most of Novgorod is only a short walk from the hotel.

Coming to Terms

By the time I’d finished my birthday stroll I decided I could come to terms with the addition of yet another year. Perhaps it was the tranquillity of Yarislav’s Courtyard that changed my mind. Or maybe it was the view from the Volkhov, or--most likely--it was the rain shower that curtailed my summer stroll.

Novgorod is notorious for summer showers. “ Kahzdee den, kahzdee den “ (every day, every day), an old man told me, opening up his umbrella and shuffling down the road with his bag of bread and cheese.

Fortunately, the hotel was not far. I ducked inside, only to be hastened toward the dining room. My tour group had prepared a birthday celebration, complete with lemon-flavored vodka and a gift--my very own bust of Lenin (suitable for a single bookend, I was told).

My Lenin never made it home. He was intercepted by a postal clerk who refused to ship “Soviet art” to the United States. I didn’t really mind. After it was over, I had to confess to some good memories of my tranquil private walk, my tour group’s impromptu celebration and a special, unexpected gift from the city.

After the rain shower, Novgorod gave me something those of us with summer birthdays rarely get in Los Angeles, a magnificent birthday rainbow.