22-II-1978.
The apsolventska ekskurzija to Moscow-Leningrad-Kiev. Technically we weren't absolvents yet, we'll be in a couple of months when we finish attending our courses, but then we'll be busy with our exams and then we'll disperse and probably never be in one spot together again, so do that now. We tried to go with the physics folks (didn't even try to bring the other three groups to talk, physically unfeasible), but they had other plans ("We'd go into land", to which V.J. said "should we bury them, then?").
The weather was stiff, it was -18. We were supposed to wait for the shuttle bus to the airport in front of the theatre (or, rather, the building which was used for it, the real dedicated building was built years later), but the bus was late because it seems they didn't have enough diesel under-engine heaters to start them fast enough. So they let us into the heated lobby to wait, which took almost half an hour. The ice from my beard thawed.
There was a running joke about smuggling to USSR, something about the guard at Lenins mausoleum, who after some serious haggling sells his kalašnjikov for a sixpack of chewing gums, and the next day on the maneuvers, on the side of reds, just points his fingers and fakes the ra-ta-ta-ta noise, between making bubbles. Then from the side of the blues comes a guy in jeans, with arms spread, pretending to be a bomber plane. Slave and I heard it from Paja (or the other algebra assistant) a few days ago, when we went to his place for some chat and vodka (as is appropriate for the occasion, otherwise it was usually some brandy).
The first leg of flight ended in Kiev, where we saw a huge truck with a 3m wide nozzle blowing hot air on the concrete, thawing the snow. Actually went back to the same plane for 2nd leg, could have left a dežurni and our hand luggage. Someone bought some better cigarettes in the duty-free so the smell was somewhat richer. Nobody got drunk yet. Someone came to tell me the smuggler-airplane-jeans joke, which means it made a full circle within four hours.
What with the 2 hour timezone, and layover time, we arrived at Šeremetjevo late in the afternoon. The customs and passport control wasn't too serious, we're the socialist brethren, but then the Intourist shuttle bus took some wait to finally start, and then took almost an hour to get us to the hotel. Then another hour to get distributed to our rooms in the grand Ukrajina hotel. It's one of the seven monumental buildings built in Staljin's times (and I remember seeing yet another one in Varšava, ten years before, where it was the Palace of science and culture). The spy in the lobby was so obvious, reading the same page in the Pravda for half an hour, not moving at all, peeking over it to observe us, we thought he must be a decoy.
It just happened that this was their Army day, so we had the luck that our windows were facing front, and saw the fireworks well. The windows aren't foggy because they're double paned and taped around, with that classic paper tape with gumirabika (gum arabic) glue, which used to be on postage stamps and envelopes.
Mentions: dežurni, ekskurzija, Paja Ćurčić, Radovan Tomić (Slave), in serbian