VLADIVOSTOK-LORD OF THE EAST

Vladivostok (Lord of the east) 4/8
Grey, sea misty arrival at 7am-very disappointing first impressions. Line of spruce navy frigates flanked by a hospital ship ( expecting trouble-surely Chechnya is landlocked?) seem to sum up the historical raison d'etre of this city which was an enclosed armed camp ( off limits to both foreigners and non serving Russians) from 1958-1992.

On the high ground-a series of former volcanic peaks-are 17 fortresses-no longer in use-instead of sleek apartments and attractive villas, there is a series of less than salubrious tower blocks. I now know where the planners who built those public housing estates ( so beloved of the Bill) in the east end of London, Manchester, Liverpool and Leeds got their inspiration-perhaps they are working here now-they deserve to be, on Russian pay. Their decrepit and crumbling appearances also match their British counterparts, testimony to the lack of care and accountability taken for that which is neither owned nor earned. Citizens of John Prescott's Hull would feel at home here.

At the turn of the century-founded in 1870-this city was a vibrant trading hub like Shanghai and Hong Kong. Asians who built it made up four fifths of the population. It was not until the 1920s that the red army finally overcame the whites and Japanese occupiers. Stalin purged the city of foreigners-his multicultural policy of murder, imprisonment and deportation) and the northern suburbs became a way station for thousands of political prisoners destined for the one way journey to the gold mines of kolyma.

The city feels Asian-the general crumbling infrastructure could be Bangkok or KL in the 60s-but it is full of first world, well educated, sophisticated caucasian people, compelled to live in a second world environment by political folly and malice. Poor Russian Asiatics tend the gardens and do the tough construction, street cleaning etc and the well heeled Koreans, Chinese and Japanese are here for business and tourism (perhaps the girls). Fresh Sushi is flown in from Japan and the Yen is much more in evidence than the dollar Euro and Pound. One is more likely to see thick necked security men waltzing in and out of dept stores and banks toting Utzi machine guns as though brief cases. Black cars whiz by rather than Steve McQueen in his Ford Mustang and the rusting trams are no match for Frisco's cable trams. Although, they do pass Yul Brynner’s former home.

As in Petersburg and other cities here, pot holes and crumbling pavements, collapsing subway stairs are hazards, but here is the added threat of uncovered manholes offering a steep bung- less drop to a smelly end. Despite the subsiding footpaths , potholes and protruding steel reinforcement bars from decaying concrete paving slabs, the elegant women high step in the most colourful stilettos-all promoting their bosoms a la Jane Austen movie stars and even more mature matrons wear hems well above the knee. Their speed across the uneven ground is amazing but there is no need to chase as non too subtle phone calls to your hotel room in the night ( in perfect English) offer to answer all ones questions about such attractive mysteries (Ah AIDS galore)

Above all this is a navy town-home to the once mighty far east fleet-On Sunday morning a brass band belts out patriotic music as another heroic destroyer returns from visiting Venezuela??Cuba? or any other port they might be tolerated in. ( Actually it was visiting from Malaysia-doesn’t pay to jump to conclusions)